Biography of Jon Lloyd
I thought it was about time that I rewrote this. It’s not that I have anything more to say. It’s also not that I have anything less to say. It’s just that I wanted to replace one example of nothingness with another. It can be so satisfying sampling different slices of meaninglessness, don’t you think?
Jon Lloyd Poems
Each second leaves fall one by one to ground, And languidly caress their neighbours one By one, as if in fond farewell. The sun Still smiles, but weakly now, as though it’s bound
Arm: needle; Needle: arm. Can’t wait for you To become better acquainted.
When the wind slaps your face and the rain blinds your eyes, when you're lost on a mountain in the fog with aching thighs,
you are my raincloud, my dark grey raincloud. you just depress me, when skies are blue.
How Much Do I Love You?
'How much do I love you? ' I ask myself again. All the way to Jupiter, And half-way back again,
A Puppet's Cry
Picked up once more, like marionette, And then flung down again. How can anyone forget That puppets too feel pain?
Disaster Contingency Plan
If my world should ever fall apart, I'll go and find some glue, To put it back like at the start - That's always assuming I can find a hardware store that's open.
Staring at the earth From the top of a tree - It is countless vile bodies Ripped at the seams.
Distant, But Not Forgotten
When I think of you so far away Across that stretch of sea, I cannot help but wonder if Sometimes you think of me.
I push the plunger home again and wait For multi-coloured patterns to gyrate... Off we go! I'm flying once again - 'Psychedelic Airtours - you won't return the same'.
I know you've heard some evidence - You think you've got the facts - But look into my eyes my love, Before you raise that axe.
Some say that self-destruction Lies just around the corner I say 'Fair play - that argument May just prove to be true,
It's unlikely but true - Your physical attraction Entertains me On so many levels.
Can't let myself be crushed again, By the merciless indiscriminate beast called love. Won't let myself be pushed again,
Running frenzied through the forest
Screams and bugle calls and howls
Panic grips my fragile body
Causing twisting in my bowels.
Bracken tearing at my flesh -
Blood clings sticky to my side -
Hounds and horses: blood-red coats
Rushing at me like the tide.