look around




let us stop

let us pray


for-get thoughts ambitions desires


turn in


I  A M



We are all water






By Nicholas Peart

Written: 12th September 2013

(c)All Rights Reserved


image: pxhere.com

Kings Out Of The Smallest Ants


A thought for which I fought

in marble blood-stained lands

A bridge united all these forgotten fragments

Once dead in stagnant Earth liquid;

the white light blinds our eyes

and makes kings out of the smallest ants


by Nicholas Peart

Written: 22nd January 2014

(c)All Rights Reserved 

Image: https://photographyfree4all.wordpress.com

The Secret Plain


Folded complex
a bitter rot

nothing smooth detected
no sugar coat
only you
and all your human core
at the fore

as days turn to clockless horizons
where unknown freedom reigns supreme
no nostalgia needed
in this eternal loving vacuum


by Nicholas Peart

Written: 29th October 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved

The Effortless Beat


A faded glow pricks the plankton
most agitated from decades dishevelled
at the micro level too close to the picture
then yes it is a rut not softening the blow
where I am never protected from what I want
and where silent subtle beauty is forever elusive
and joy only permeates once the controls are discarded
then the muted band of life breaks free

Moments are the sacred secret chords
like temporary cloud formations
they ring in a key
before the new pitch saves the day
and old spheres make way for other tones
in all their elegance, discord and limitations
a splattered banquet with no way of knowing
questions and answers are mere confusion

The astral warp is also a puppet
we will never see who pulls the strings
if you search you will not be in rhythm
to the harmony beyond your self imposed prison
the leaves on the trees don’t inquire
they only be; not chasing the next best thing
and when they see those restless rainbow seekers
they laugh so hard the ground beneath them smiles


By Nicholas Peart

Written 27th October 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved


Image: Arcaion

The Light Inside Of Us


Ash fog brown
on a marathon to quartz
a slow and steady eternity
to the heart of the sun
but then what’s next?

Turned around
now I can see
revved mind energy or splendid fudge?
the process is all I can trust

Crushing it through corridors
passed out next to brief candles
there is no golden period
just the experience of life
or is it the randomness of life?

Ask the dust
ask the wind
ask the most primordial fragments of stardust
in the deepest vacuum of space and time

Even with the most advanced AI
and the entire dimensions and secrets of life
tapped and exhausted
a new landslide of questions
a brand new fire-bird
more insatiable than the last
breaks through
a more expansive longing forms
like blind love with no breaks
the captain thrown overboard and quartered
in the heat of the one-track revolution

Back to a ringed space worse than the other
undisciplined wonder knocked down too many
now Mediocrestan is what I crave
coming from a soul who lost his mind

This life…
its all a scattered game
a futile quest to control
if that’s what you want
let go

Then death…
the greatest leveller
death gives life the parity life cannot give
with all matter in union
all matter in peace
a cause for celebration
not for grief


By Nicholas Peart

Written: 26th -27th October 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved


Image: Felix Mittermeier

Fragile Plates

Giorgio di Chiricho

Down the fifty drawn vacuum pipes
His last run was timed out
It made him drown up the sacred crown
Longing for glory again
Nothing got swayed – nothing of note
Tired of the decrepit drone ballads
He took a trip lying down in an oval-shaped plain
In the next life it would be a sapphire bowl
Of purple fruit low hanging in cryptic labyrinths
The gutter bites
The knife and then the swipes
Locked doors and slashed faces
Ships re-built in bombed out yards
The grain now the high gain
The shooting crafts on mercy street
The brawls of crimson faded grey
Distraught lovers laugh
Even though it is no game
Crazy hearse-chamber minds
Sabotaging time
Like a miner dealt the worst hand
His next mission is to kill now the thrill is botched
Until the lever breaks
And all kings, paupers, astronauts and pitchforks
Are strewn on a level field of play


By Nicholas Peart

Written on 2nd May 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved 


Image: Painting by Giorgio de Chirico


Natural Blues (A Reassessment)


reeds scraping gristle

sound of thick pillar refinement

synergy going dilapidated

mattress excitement in

a formation

(ethereal ring)


all sacred buds and dominant postures

to wrangle the rise of suit equipment

barge jumping off a wooden bridge

high jump mental insanity

peacock suit of twisted…

revitalising exhaust turbine

polluted with low pick ups

and the same ricocheting chords

the lads chorus follows shortly

and stadium bang

white dwarf collapse of plan B

open protective fusion

two reptilian eyes

bloodstream corrupt

now falling

soil and poison


evil stench and dead sun

(sub human electricity)

grind hurl TV rock star abuse

on a motorcycle doing 180

distinction in the shape

of the level the sound and the person

and now we hark back to Earls Court 75

and the high fat content

at the expense of the dole originators

bow down Charlie Patton and Son House

(with Blind Lemon in the ante room)

humble cotton field afterglow

the stadium was non existent

and they knew

Sonny Boy knew

Honeyboy Edwards knew

and the bliss of a Kronenberg and snuff

after the pioneering devil enigma

white hot


a nihilist at Three Folks

beats a nihilist at Knebworth



By Nicholas Peart

Taken from the poetry collection; ‘In Arctic Measure (Poems 2004-7)’

©All Rights Reserved

Image: Angular Visions (2015) by Nicholas Peart



Da Pitchforks R Comin’


All over the land across the oceans
A number of punks they know the motions
It’s the Unicorn Kings who have all the bling
And the floating chumps in the heywain ring
It’s a life sublime if you don’t read history
You can kid yourself with rosy mysteries
In the 1920s many candles were lit
But in the 2020s, the axis’ gonna split

Da Pitchforks R Comin
As you outsource like a mother
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Get a gulfstream to New Zealand
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Grab your bitcoins and your gold!!

If you Wikipedia The French Revolution
Wat Tyler and his Peasants Revolt
You’ll getta surprise and a good dose’ o vision
Seeing all of the world in its double division
And now you see, yo, they not you!
As you chompin high on ya crystal stool
From the highest clouds to the bottom of the ground
They all howlin’, yo, da only way is down!!

Da Pitchforks R Comin
As you outsource lika mother
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Get a gulfstream to New Zealand
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Grab your bitcoins and your gold!!

There are many solutions with no confusion
There are natural forces to stop the revolution
Maybe 3D Printing has a secret ol rhythm
Ending capitalism or is this just some ol jism?
There are many theories bout post scarcity
Post work post money post everything
Da future will be roses or da future will be murder
Yet this risin division cannot be taken further

Da Pitchforks R Comin
As you outsource lika mother
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Get a gulfstream to New Zealand
Da Pitchforks R Comin
Grab your bitcoins and your gold!!


By Nicholas Peart

Written: July 2017

©All Rights Reserved



I wrote this rap back in June this year at a cafe somewhere in Amsterdam. At the time there was a lot of renewed interest in cryptocurrencies and prices were beginning to spiral out of control (and continue to this very day with Bitcoin having just reached an all time new high of over $10,000!!). Below is my rap inspired by all things crypto…


I bought a bunch of Bitcoin
at da top of da tree
But my boy Daryl bought
when it was almost free
Coz Daryl got da skills
He know when to make da kill
I am a Johnny come lately
Always beggin outside Macy’s
All I wanna do is make it
I accidentally always fake it
Me n Maceo always look
To Daryl D da crook
Tappin all that homie knows
Thinkin bro it’s gonna blow

A world of insania
Extendin to Asia
And all da pain in ya
When da prices go up!!!

Then one day da bubble burst
I’m thinkin yo I got it the worst
I bought all the way at da top
Got one hell of a mess to mop
Now I am slammin on doors
N clutching at straws
Rappin to all n sundry
Hustling like a real numpty
When I tell em the price I bought
They reply I am a chump worth naught
Now I am diggin through all my thoughts
Asking; What have you every caught?
Any gold any silver?
Or fools rock n fake guilders?

A world of insania
Extendin to Asia
And all da pain in ya
When da prices go up!!!


By Nicholas Peart (AKA N P-ART)

Written in June 2017

©All Rights Reserved