Nothing fucking destroys my confidence like poetry slams, went to another one and yeah…… mmmmmmm haha I preformed ‘Will I Do, For You?‘
[ http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/147146779837/will-i-do-for-you ]
in case you were wondering, and yeah I’m shit performer and I fucking tanked the audience were um…. pretty savage

Like it’s shame on me cos I know what you guys like and what THEY the London crowd are two different tastes. But I guess maybe shame on me twice, I try so hard to fit in with them, doing little love notes in a OH MY GOD LIKE ME but it’s never enough for them, or anyone, or including myself. Its all too fake, fake in writing is great we all love fake. But there in front of people like…. I can never pull of fake, people smell the rat. But I guess It’s time for me to realise like being a weird shouty poet is my niche. Not doing poems about the coffee dates and sex illusions, but poetry where I shout milkshake a lot as an alagory for my life slipping out of my fingers. Not a poem about my dead nan, but poetry where I say one word a lot as a weird alagory for internet left wing culture. Not saying how I’ll write a letter to my 10 year old self, but screeching how Borderline and intrusive thoughts makes my life a shitter each day.

Like fuck the London crowd, tonight was my last nerve. Giving them what they want has got me nowhere, next time i’ll be more confident in what I like,and be as obnoxious and annoying as I possibly can. It’s goofy, but no less valid

So another set done and one that’s been a long time coming

So like…. why did I even write these poems? Why did I make it so patently obvious what they’re about? I dunno, there’s little plays and stories you go over in your head and you never realise how down right unhealthy it is to indulge them until you say them aloud I think that’s what these are, it’s indulging the tragic figure I like to play while simultaneously destroying it, cos once you put it to words and admit it’s real it brings it to life where it can be laughed out of the room. The fact I feel so guilty for the events in the poem, when said aloud it sounds so fucking moronic to think I still beat myself up over it 6 fucking years later. I wrote them to try and force a change like “OOOOP you put it in a poem that your moving past her, so you gotta now” I dunno if that ever works but my poems have always seemed to have some clairvoyance powers so one can only hope that comes through again. Who knows? Now I’ve exorcised and admitted to my demons maybe life can get better, maybe the love of my life that’ll understand me more then XXXXXXXXX ever did will come to my doorstep, maybe XXXXXXXX will get into contact, I mean who knows!? But the important thing is not dwell on it, and for god’s sake Sebastian: STOP LETTING IT DICTATE YOUR LIFE no one person is ever worth that

The XXXXXXXXX series

Here’s a compilation of them poems I christen the ‘XXXXXXXXX’ series in what is in many ways a chronological order of events, some of these take years before I finish them so if you want to see my heart be destroyed in a canonical timeline, now you can!

1) XXXXXXXXX
http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/147258028267/xxxxxxxxx

——————————————————————————–

2) Byakko
http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/143784812282/byakko

3) Another Draft Of History
http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/146711143547/another-draft-of-history

4) Feeder
http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/145360464887/feeder

5) Detachment Blues
http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/143989454096/detachment-blues

6) Being Honest
http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/147257267742/being-honest

7) Aftermath
http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/147258954067/aftermath

Sebastian Noël

Aftermath

It’s out of my hands
I gotta keep reminding myself of that
It’s all the past, the handiwork of Luke
That’s not got a whole lot with the person you are now

But what to do now?
As I said I’ve come out a clone of you
Maybe though…. That ain’t so bad
If life’s a repetition I could get another shot
But maybe as the mistress this time
Maybe everything I felt for you
Statistically someone could feel that for me?
Could I be the conclusion to a fleeting heart?

Imagine such a thing!
Their face would animate daybreak as I enter the room
All my actions and decisions becomes to their liking
They’d forget to dream, cos reality is indistinguishable
Every inch of my body is their idolisation
They’d fetishize my very existence
Every time I crash they’d reveal in bringing be back up
In fact they’d take a perverse pride in it!

It’s gotta happen one day right?
In this world where people go out of there way
Not to even know me
It’s got to happen even for a little shit tyke like me
To penetrate the smog that surrounds me
And see their future….

As much as the romantic would like to proclaim
How I’d chase you to the ends of the earth
Force every atom to prove my love to you
Proper ‘Notebook’ it y’know?
I know there’s no way in hell
You’re trapped in domestic bliss, no thanks to me
But I don’t wanna carry the blame anymore
It’s 1 to 1,000,000 in finding a new love
But I’m liking them odd’s
I won’t lie and say the door isn’t left open or anything
But maybe in time luck will be on my side
And someone will reward devotion by returning it

Sebastian Noël

A part of the XXXXXXXXX series

XXXXXXXXX

A burden lifted, a job relieved
Must’ve been Christmas come earlier
Like if the addicts stash grew legs
And filed the restraining order itself

Oh XXXXXXXXX
This is good for us I swear
You’ll miss the biscuit tin rises when taken away
But when your gorging on the 5-star moments
As your creation takes centre of an exhibition
While your published 2nd half to be, he grabs you tight
Kisses you on the head, and tells you how proud he is
You won’t be missing us then I promise

Oh XXXXXXXXX
Dry your eyes princess, this is no time to fret
There’s no glory keeping the Griffin in the cage
You were never mine, you belonged to the Gaia
To fuel those needing souls with inspirations
So they can join you sipping wine at the Tate Modern
Tell the kids it’s just a matter of time
Tell them we can all be like you XXXXXXXXX

Oh XXXXXXXXX
Know that despite time, I’ll always love you
For anymore I’ll doubt such a sappy claim
But for you it’s a sure fire
It’s just I’m a mystery to myself
And I’m a weaker man for it
No need for you to get caught in this mess I’m in
I’ll take the bullet, I’ll survive the bleeding

And when we come across each other again
When we lock eyes in the street
You’ll be wearing the nicest outfit
Arm in arm with an Adonis
You’ll look my way
And I’ll look back with a smile
Cos I know I made the right choice
Oh I’ll never escape loving you XXXXXXXXX
Only love can motivate such a suicide
But don’t worry I’ll make my own way

Sebastian Noël

A part of the XXXXXXXXX series
Originally written 6 years ago, tarted up in 2016

Being Honest

It doesn’t make it any better being honest
Walking down Old Heath road with an explained expression
Didn’t exactly make the times any easier to swallow
Saying the scimitar lodged in my gut may be forever

And what if I become honest with the scripture too
Paint colourful metaphors about the daily life
How the morning toasties taste worse and worse
How my face is succumbing to age and pruning up
How I’ve lost all motivation to keep in shape
You’re lost to the first guy who’ll raise their fist

So what’s the point?

Recollection hangs around like a spectre
Inciting the grmiore of comparison to ruin the mood
How can I progress in the world with this curse looming
Cos I couldn’t help but notice she can’t carry a joke like you can
She ends things 1 punch line too short
She doesn’t get as silly, not prone to knocking things over
Doesn’t get so excited that she screams through her laugh
Or says a diss so loud you command silence in the room

And we talk she sticks to the safe havens
Always people and events again and again
She wasn’t born a great person not like we were
You couldn’t get us away from out ideas
We swear we’re gonna make it in some way
And if we brought up something we didn’t know
There’s no popularity contest: We just don’t know
And we’d be excited to be taught by our favourite person

And when we make our way home
I can’t help but notice she’s not as experimental as you
She doesn’t take the lead like you did
You were sub at heart but not afraid to lay your demands down
There’s no flow with her, not like we’re in sync at all
You were so far on the wavelength you finished my thoughts
And if we wanted to try something new?
No demand was to taboo to see the other smile

But it’s time to accept the dealers hand
There’s no other option but to move on
Into the hands of the less inclined public
The kind to make a roll call based on minutes
“His name isn’t Simon and he wears his ring like THAT!?”
Oh joy, and to think I have to fight for their affection
I dunno if that’s the way round it should be
It’s all statistics, it’s all defensive
No way to let sweet love bloom
When everyone’s hiding a knife behind their masks

The nagging sense that follows from wake till break
Well it alleviates when we wasted any time together
But why don’t you value that? Like all others do?
“I don’t need a best friends” you exclaim
But without irony bust your romances lack of synergy
The key to our woe’s is staring us right in our faces

The novelists dream is right here on our path can’t you see
What’s keeping your veil firmly wrapped XXXXXXXX?
I can’t vision the rewards in store that keeps your back to me
A domestic bronze medal is your ambition? Just seems silly

My friend’s still tease me about it you know
“So are you still in love with XXXXXXXXX?”
Did anyone need confirmation?
I’ve left my psyche at the mercy
Of schizophrenics, narcissists and neurotics
To beat me into the perfect man for you
But it’s still not enough for you
Well nothing would be enough for you
You’re not in the race, you’re not on the market
But just for the 0.1% odds I thought…. Maybe
You’d be enticed by the things in your dreams
But reality bites, don’t it XXXXXXXXX?

Sebastian Noël

A part of the XXXXXXXXX series

City Shit Talk

Who are you?
Who am I?
Dunno
And no one’s gotta

You like that?
That anecdote in uniquely mine
The experience doesn’t have to end there
I got more then tongue
Or maybe I don’t
Depends what you’re into

Is that who you are?
Rad
Who am I?
I told you before; who fuckin’ knows?

So what’s the scene like here
Oh is that so?
Sounds right up my alley
Well anything would be while I live here
Do you like it?
Well neither did I, duuuuhh!

You’re looking nice
You’re looking down right bombshell like
You know I have a reputation back home
That I can’t get into here
Wouldn’t mind it leaking to here
Do you mind giving me a hand with that?

Sebastian Noël

Out

I don’t wanna sound stuck up, but I gotta get out of here
My price tag overlaps the lot I find myself in
Not a class worth, but the value of the soul
I’m surrounded by corpses you see, in Sunday school

Colchester to Chelmsford to Southend
Not exactly the escape to New York City is it?
But it feels a substantial upgrade to fuck all
I can’t get on board with anyone here
Or maybe it’s better to say they’re not on board with me
And any previous investors are already hitting the trail

I’m under no illusions, course I’m running from myself
And the ghosts that constantly haunt me come Friday night
Haven’t the foggiest what I’m expect to find elsewhere
But maybe coming up with nothing is the better guarantee anyway

The vital stat re-roll, the pull of the slots
Maybe here people’s hearts are a slight ajar
Whatever their offering, hell I got the cash to spare
Maybe with a new head on my shoulders, things will be different
When the pain invades, they could materialize everytime!
Tongue will be parchment and a breach will cost
Cheeky to say, but maybe I’ll change in the same way
No ghosts, I’ll treat everyone right
In that way maybe I am different from the others
I come with no attachment to my current form, that shit’s gotta go

Sebastian Noël