Monday, 26 November 2018

Busy body

Chug a coffee Keep it solid Strong and stable Stripes and fables Lines in sand Rows of grave holes Life’s Las Vegas No hours contract No hours contact Times held back Behind cash stacks Behind fat cats Thrice blind rats Stay the course Fight the tide Run the mill Read my lines Read on Or read over Never between Every defeat Cleverly seen As flaw or crack Stacks all packed In your subordinates Like insecurities Similar to injury It’s not me it’s you It’s not fair it’s true If we change anew Thoughts enough Swallow the juice Gas the bees Gotta make honey Sweet dreams

Friday, 23 November 2018

ire

Rain down you ashy titan
a heavy chain of heated ions
tied on throats of weeping lions
the sea of Egypt red and rising
solitude to isolation
glossy eyes with gripping vessels
but the grip of canines causes rising tension
explanation:
Perplexed
enraged
the delivery that never came
the lie dissolved upon re-entry
the loss of love
death of many
Angry sad
the hopeless lad
swelled with pain
stitched up mouth

Wednesday, 24 October 2018

Expectations

I think I might die.
I hope that's okay,
I don't know if you loved me,
if you did you might cry.

I miss all the living.
I'm left with a life,
if a verb has no feeling,
its a noun deep inside.

But my words have no meaning.
Without action racing behind,
like that frayed and tethered cord,
plunging to its final snap.

Yet if my skin turns palid.
Just like festering maggots,
then the flies on my corpse,
gain more purpose than I did.

I don't want my life.
I hope it's not bitter,
but even if I fail to use my gifts,
MAMA DIDNT RAISE NO QUITTER!

So every sitting shower,
with every beer I've downed,
crowding all around me,
the choir announcing,
that I will fail,
"how astounding".

I wasn't born to stick the landing.
I don't cry because I'm failing,
I am not lost but simply floundering,
When I rise tomorrow,
I will smile again.

Tuesday, 23 October 2018

whole words

Love
over the years we lose
vying for what we want
even if it ends

Hate
anyone who grips your pretty ankles
taunting at your hope
even if you're wrong

Trust
revel in those who earn it
understand it will be lost
stand against the storm
till you break and fall

Stop
tell me the facts are lying
obey my desperate wish
please me when I'm wrong

Go
only two letters make me one again

Self satiety

Do you have a passion
or are you just abjectly
walking through glass house's
fixated on what's watching 
the focus of white watchers
while thinking of which want
will impress your onlookers
what makes you inferior
shirts or interior 
the fiery soul ripped
out a defrosted freezer
dream to be neon
don't last for eons
brightly burn out
or be shattered in fear
of the bold and the bright
there's no colour in light
but bleed on a bulb
if red is all you want.

Friday, 12 October 2018

Trust me

I've never felt healthy While bad men are wealthy With fancy whips Wristwatches and jewelry Girlfriends kept cruelly Close to the bedroom While others creep in Ain’t it slick How they slip Out of girls who aren’t her Never admit Never Quit Keep spluttering Muttering virile shit Then smiles for the gram While she cries behind him Friends won’t deny him Cause silver tounges Spray redemption And apologetic half confessionals Shame about her Sucking devil dick Tastes better than honesty If only the charm he had modestly Reduced like his moral reach While the meandering and pandering Lands into a final straight Why are you a shitty friend?

Wednesday, 26 September 2018

Veg stock

take a little bit of sadness
throw it deep inside the pot
don't tell anyone about it
we want emotions to be lost
now leave the pot in a corner
feverish but out of sight
check on it late at night
scream bloody murder inside
cut yourself and let the blood run in
take the hate you have and add it in
over time the pile will grow
with fetid greens and moldy fuzz
seeping juice and virile gasses
the mass inside the pot should be dense
mucus clinging with depressing strength
more than you've got 
less rot than your heart
or broken parts
matter of fact this pot of filth is worthwhile
but your not 
so piss off
crawl into your own pot 
shrivel into something useful 
like veg stock
but even your the worst of the lot 

I love veg stock
versatile and cheap
compared to meat
better still 
while being flavour filled
cures the sad and ill
without the need to be distilled
I love the broth it coats my lips
sticks to my ribs and fills my hips
it's deep and rich an hot as fuck
it's overlooked that kind of sucks