Will I Do, For You?

A cleaned up version of an unfinished poem I found
I reckon I started this way back in 2011

He doesn’t listen to you, he doesn’t return your calls
He’s done one on you ain’t he?
Chewed you up and spat you out proper ain’t he?
And no message you spend in a bottle
Will ever reach his shores
You’ve been hustled out of your intimacy

You can’t stop going over the scenario
All the possibles and probably could’ves
The next holiday, your first child’s name
But you’ve been hoodwinked good and true
It pains me to see the pain crawl on your face
But I can’t help but succumb to a grin
This is the most I’ve ever seen you in a week
I always want to see you, but only now you agree

You can’t get the boy you want
But you can get me, I guarantee
You always had me whether you knew it or not
You had me good and proper you did
Cos I never feel more at home at all
Unless I’m sharing the same soil as you
As we see the day to an end
On a cul-de-sac hillside, wondering why

I know I’m not the working class atlas
I know I’m lagging on the witty pace
But nothing amounts to the glee
I feel when you’re in my vicinity
But maybe that’s just dead selfish of me
You might be better keeping me at bay

Sebastian Noël

The Ballad

People can find familiarity in the strangest places
I think we’ve landed in the same funk you and I
Blind to the cheers sent our way
We can only see 2ft in front of us
And it all points to one burning question
Just what is the point of us?
Why are we so useless?
And where can we find the universes plan for us?

I’m a dreg with no means to rebel
I’m a teacher with no wisdom to impart
I’m a poet no one listens too
Baby do you ever feel so pointless
That you wonder why you were even born?
Maybe you feel it too?
Could it be we were destined for something so base
As keeping each other company tonight?

Hey you won’t hear me grouch for now
Not while the playlist’s going this strong!
Maybe I was made for dancing tonight
Highlighting the bias to adolescent anthems
As our chests collide to a Cribs single
Holding our potions for the night
“Hey, you running low on your White Russian?
I got the funds to fix you up for the rest of August”
Come on baby I’m begging you please
Just give me purpose for one night
Cut me up and put me back together
In any way your heart desires

Oh I don’t mean to sound morbid
But do you ever tired with just ‘you’ as a concept?
Same old dreams, same old destiny
No matter how you swerve on the road
You just end up at the same place as always
I just wanna mix and match myself until something sticks
Change my name, my gender, my race
Refusing to call one match-up undeniably me
Keep changing until something sticks
Keep changing till we’re heading somewhere else
Do you ever feel like that honey?
Then maybe we can help each other till we’re there

Sebastian Noël

Clean or True

People hate to see you pulling a mood out of a Mardi Gras
But we got plenty of reason to be miserable these days
If you were to view love as a utility
Well this is it ain’t it?
The heroin shot in between your shifts tonight
As he tells you he’s to collect your favourite brand of wine
That little kick you need to get through a domesticated night
A means to an end in the end, yeah I suppose

Is there much to living life clean though?
Cos that’s the hand I got

Another price hike on the bills, another redundancy notice
But you got a safety net
It’s the bath he runs you to cush the blow
With the bombs and rose petals to tease the eyes
As he leaves you to yourself for an hour or two
You don’t love him sure, but you can’t argue against this
Just as well cos he may not love you too
But the smug duty of a man feels so right to him

Is there much to living life honestly?
Cos that’s the hand I got

Sebastian Noël

Another Draft Of History

If minds could break out
Of the matter that confines them to our heads
I’d sore across the collective conscious cosmos
I’d wag on the laws of time and reality
All to loan out myself for a spell
The mind of now, inhabiting the form of then

When ever I ended up when I entered the cockpit
Maybe it’ll be just as I call for the curtains
Equipped with 5 years of pain, on account of isolation
And the scene by scene of your dying soul
Well…. I’d collapsed on sight at your feet
Whatever ignorance did to tempt my young heart
It’s not worth it I swear
We found something radioactive right here
The kind of things poets and writers hypothesise about
A real home with someone, a real peace

An espers access to each other brain waves
As we pre-emptively cushion a devastating blow
The sensibilities that we leave to fade
While another improv act plays out
During a pub date, down the local dive
An audience of no one, with critical acclaim
That’s the kind of feeling I mean
When proximity produces happiness

If my mind enveloped that body, I’d tell you straight
“There’s no discovery that matches up
No chase will yield a worthy catch
My only will to live was to see us through
And with your absence I don’t know what else to do”
A plea from the future, one that’s true

Oh what a pity it is XXXXXXXXX
That we found each other way too early
To really understand what it was we found
I thought maybe it was a delusion
That it was young love’s nostalgic echo chamber
But is it really XXXXXXXXX?
Could it not be we are the means to be happy?
I’m sure you’ll escape abusive means one day
And find the one to give you a greater feeling
But what of lonely mortals like me?

Cos the fact remains from day 1
That I wanna die everyday I’m not yours
Please show me that love
Please XXXXXXXXX

Sebastian Noël

A part of the XXXXXXXXX series

Date In Castle Park

I arrive at the business transaction mostly on time
Arranged passively on a interchangeable messaging app
You make the radically mundane suggestion of a castle park romp
It’s too much to expect a curve ball at 23

The dice lands on a photography student
What else does steel caped boots and a Harrington produce?
Your hair’s a bath bomb shade of green and blonde
And your eyes reflect like monochrome
Undoubtedly captivating when equipped with a warm smile
We religiously obey the footpath
While I keep the hayfever at bay
“We’re victims of a London class based culling”
As she details how she came to be on this dirty great ‘ol hill
“I took this course because it’s my passion”
As op after op flew by, without a single shot being taken
Despite the 1,000 quid necklace you brought along
The sun transfixes her eyes, as she relays me with ambition
To make it back to London’s streets, or Brighton’s shores
Join the club hun, I’m sure we’ll all get there one day
You ponder about my candour
I’m not sure how to go about that
I’m a teacher in limbo
I’m a poet on standby
I’m the very definition of ‘pending’
I try to dress that up the best I can
But it’s clear I’m not getting anywhere
When that art’s not your art, when art’s not art
Then who cares?
“Can’t you play guitar” Bullet wound number 1

We take a very safe route round the park
To the benches, then to the hills
On our backs, then on our sides
Before you taste the toothpaste I used this morning
How many girls have I done this with?
How many boys have you done with too?
Did you wanna do that with me too?
Do I want you to? What do I want?
Do I want anything?
And if I do want, what’s that look like?
If I could peek into the future
Would it look anything like the past?
Would it look like me spewing white lies
Like I totally still listen to The Enemy!
Yeah…. Live and die and all that….

I take a fourth handful from the grass
As we start to veer around our guards
A troubled home, an absent dad
Apologetic prefacing from a Yelp ad
But then like the sound of a plane being shot down
She goes “Oh yeah my brother has autism too”
It’s time to dig that grave and cut your loses mate
Or maybe I’m waving the white flag to early
If Tumblr’s an indication, people are all about incest these days
But that’s an uphill climb regardless, and I’m out of heart
So to swerve by a handshake goodbye; I knock off early
Then take the scenic route home

Is this exposed heart bollocks for naught?
I like fun as much as the next guy
But the thought of letting someone in close proximity
Makes me a little sick to my stomach
But what kind of superhero am I expecting?
We’re all fucked in our own way
I just can’t stand the gamble anymore
Of ending up losing on beaming Saturday noons
Staring at the walls, flies populating my mouth
While I obsessively go over everything that went wrong
And rub ointment over my heart
All for the kind of empty people
That slap their cunts to Game Of Thrones
Who stroke their dicks to the Euro match
All without anything to say, nothing to show for it
Oh it’s not worth it anymore
If you told all your sweethearts to hit the road
And you hit 22 then your shit out of luck
Too aware to comply, too cynical to wonder
You’re the last kid picked for P.E

I don’t feel like dying again
I’m quite accustomed to feeling safe
So maybe I’ll abstain for another year
Not like anyone’s missing out

Sebastian Noël

Para-para

I could use baseless devotion right now
Now now then ever before
The maps looking coffee stained and creased
With any beauty thriving among the microscopic

The visuals that usually remain exclusive
To a panic attacked backed up by 5 shots of rum
Are starting to bleed into the everyday
As towering bricks and steel start to melt
And the colour pours in between my toes
While citizens turn into goblins and creeps
I dunno what they are, what they’re thinking
Did they rob my future from me as a joke too?

Oh snapshot’s where are you?
The one’s you go back through on nostalgia trips
Remembering even the scents and feelings
Of a lazy summer by the riverbank
It’s as sickeningly sweet as it sounds
The kind of days that make you second take
At the Petri dish we all call a country
The perfectness of it makes me start to gag
Cos my body rejects such a sugary memory
After a diet of cardboard and grit
And an ever fading vision
I dunno if I can go back to comfort

Waking up in our clothes at the house party
The shared whipped cream on the nose
The Clinton card gestures: Forever immortalised
These are the things to keep life okay

Sebastian Noël

†-dressing (W.I.P)

“You’re so damn polarising” they say
“Just tone it down” They always tell me
But it’s just too much fun this way
Pick out aspects from the bed sheets
I shouldn’t be out of the house
I shouldn’t be out of my room
They send me cheques in the mail telling me so
When just getting up’s rebelling, what’cha to do?

Do you just keep it to yourself
Try and get away with it in the crowd
Or do you proclaim it loudly?
Put 2 out of 100 on double work load
Neither one feels like the right way
Nothing steeped in sane logical thought ever does
If I’m a lost cause anyway who cares?
I’m a major league on BBC4 with no rule book

So what I do is give in to absolutely everything
Until the outside feels like the inside
Slap on the leggings and the microscopic shorts
Hidden by grandma’s manufactured hand-me-down
Trying to emulate the only people I’ve admired
Till I’m the person they turn to admire
Then maybe they’ll treat me like them too
So sweet, so pure, so sought after
Eyes burning through my sweater; a dream come true
Outlined by the dance floor every Friday night

For better or for worse…

A finger nail marking down my sides
And the Mayans secure my place in the cosmos
Cos I was never born to survive
A laundry list of conversation stoppers
A hasty count town timer
Exchange the blind eye for pricing sight
To delay the snuffing out of my light
Do you think I look beautiful tonight?
Do you think I got the hang of appropriating right?
Cos I was born to a club that only ever hurt me
If I didn’t want to kill them where they stood
I wanted to rip their fucking tongues out
Have you ever been attracted to what disgusts you?
As their stubble scratches you in the moonlight

I’ll think I’ll just stick to the Yin
But I can’t help but compete with ‘em
I want to be the them they want to be everyday
I want them to be terrified of picking an outfit, lest we clash
So I guess it’s back to Yang with every intent to replace
What I’d give to receive the love you give them
That last puppy in the pound level of attention
To erase life itself, till your the prettiest girl in the room
Hand on heart reciting the psychotics oath
Cos there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get that love
I’d go from Mr to Mrs to back again
I’ll let you call me anything you want
Dress me like a doll, put me on parole
Just to be wanted, just to be found
To be the centre of attention
The apple of anyone’s eye
I tell you I’ll do absolutely anything
And that ain’t no lie

Sebastian Noël

Gone (W.I.P)

She shatters the sound barrier
With a silent mouth and detached glass
As the respiratory routine escapes her
It’s time to dissolve from the very time itself

With her iris now pillaging it’s shade
From every other faucet of her surrounding
As the scalp’s flowing red keeps the sunlight
Peeking from the fringe to survey the surrounding
Grasps turn into scuttles
As the portal’s to the gazes overpopulate
There’s no direction to go to incite some relief
This is the reality of the rest of the night henceforth

A̵̯̓ͯ̈́̊ͭͯͩ̀̚Ă̡̹̟͉̫̖̖̗̫̜̓ͦ͜Ā̷̭̙̪̭̪̙̖̔̍͂Ȁ͍̞̦̻̫̪̙͛ͬ́̿ͨ̓̿͛͢͡͞ͅA͒ͤ҉̭͞ͅA̧̡̬͎̬̪̝ͩ̓ͪ̚H̍̐̉̂ͣ́҉̘̲͈̟̺̪Ḧ̵͙̫̤͚̳͈̗̰̜́͂̍̄̂̍͢H̨̏ͯ҉͚͔͖̲̺R̨̩̹̩̅ͤ̊̋̄͂ͥ͝Ŗ̳̩̫ͫ̓̒̊̊͘U̥̱̱̗͉͚̜̯ͫͤͤ̅͛ͪ̉̒Ų̦̩̮͕̗̞͈̼͂̔ͣ́G̙̖͚̦̠̞͙͎̩͐͂̍̐̊̐̈́̚G͍̲͓̝̖̦̺̠̑̿ͨͅH̙̣̰͈̟̫̫̊̔̊̅ͮ̇̆͊͆Hͤ̇ͦ̋̋̚͡͏̝͉A̡̛̳͈͔̘̜̔̓͜Ḁ̫͗͒̊̽͊A̜̬̳̜̲͆ͯͯ͑̂́Ḁ̢͕̤̮̬͛͌͋̇̊ͨͪ̓̋͜ͅA̗̭ͮ̈́̇̔͋ͤ̈̉́͘G͐̈̅̇̚҉̢̗͍̲͕͟H̶̛̭͓̯̦͊̾ͭ̾͊̆́ͅH̴̷̛̹̃ͥ͆̅H̰̪͚͇̟̤̝͚ͣͤ͒̈́̈́ͪ͞Ḫ̗̟̭̇͛̎̏́̚ͅ

She’s gone, gone gone gone
Gone to somewhere beyond comprehension
He tries to follow you with tap water and lexicons
But such things don’t exist where she is now
With shutter eye visionscape
Stitched facial features
As the voids they covet send you straight to hell
A stethoscope prison, a smartphone filter ghetto
Gone gone gone gone gone

And he’s gone gone
Course he did what else would he do?
Why would he appear this time?
With the knowledge to set you free
Course he ain’t bloody here
Gone, gone, as I am too
I can’t return as is
She’ll have to enter stasis again

Sebastian Noël

It Never Ends

The biggest mistake we make as a species
Is that we think that it could ever end
No path to enlightenment ever concludes
No evil targeting your lively hood ever relents
Is the thought that drives people to the grave
That no Miami tinted destination will greet you
The reward comes with doing the act itself
No drug on the earth with emancipate you
The struggle never ends
The nightmare never ends
Self-betterment never ends
Progress never halts
Growth is never stunted
The light is never in reach
The goal is always out of reach
The reach is inconceivable

Cos where does that leave us?
Sitting with our mouths a gape
Waiting for the drip feed to release us
Never opening our eyes to how it enslaves us
The beginning never ends
The learning never ends
The pain won’t let up
The cure isn’t gonna come
Demands won’t stop coming in
The possibilities won’t expand
Yet the solution never changes
The climax is never unattractive
A finale won’t ever spoil
As your motivation, or as your reason
But the 3rd act doesn’t exist
The 74th act is never the last
The book isn’t gonna close
Cos the end has no end

Sebastian Noël

A Buh-Buh-Bored Boy

It always goes this way
2 stops from the station it goes this way
If not chasing the shadows of my losses
It’s trying to steal that which I haven’t earned
Yeah the closer I get, it always goes this way
9,000 years in the future and I’ll still be a brat

I’ll take any version of it making the rounds
Even if it’s by candle light to a brick wall
As I make a deceleration of a wordplay and poetry
To the reception of a single word review
Illuminated against the stars that have bothered to turn up
Don’t take it hard, just how things are
But an opportunity born from archaic rubble that be
Cos I can’t be fucked with the small talk either hunny

Fuck the colloquialism, designed to disguise
And fuck worshipping love like a religion
I just need a reason to live tonight baby
Like a spoonful of sugar, ain’t nothing wrong with enjoying it
Feed me any myth you want, I’ll swallow it down everytime
Like the house cocktail, I’ll down any shit you give me

I’ll take the first volunteer, cos I’m empty
Not like a man facing the knifes edge
But like a forgotten colouring book, down memory lane
I have no purpose without any input
By which way will my personality progress?
That’s down to you baby, and the shot you fling my way
I wouldn’t christen it desperation personally
That implies I haven’t survived colourless all this time
But god I’m so fucking impatient
Cos I’ve been stuck on chapter 3 for 9 novels straight

So please help me turn the page

Lnc0