Writers Recycle
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
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.
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
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
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