As curved as a butchered kidney
foetal almost
or childlike at least
ignorant of the rage surrounding him
Dull against the thunderous ball that tracks him
are panicked, desperate cries for his crawled return
so dull he missed them all
deafened perhaps by the last of his own coursing blood
Foetal almost, his form as immobile
as a fossilised shrimp
petrified by time, not copper jacketed menaces
drilling into sun baked ground around him
Had his tympanic torn?
then again, no one hears the round that kills them
foetal again now, but still born
wreaths back home shiver limply, compared to his glorious spent brass anadem
Tuesday 22 February 2011
Returned.
Return my love
Surrender to my auto centric world
With crinkled nose of displeasure
at painful insults hurled
Invest, invest did I nothing but pure heart and treasure
Return our love
Avast the sailing of a low tide of briny drops
Curtaining the window of demure emotion
Lest dew should worry plumb cheek tops
Questioning my utter devotion
Return your love
As per your statutory rights
Gift of a mans soul
Pair of laddered tights
Pseudo contentedness as per, so empty a bowl*
You incessantly blame me for ear bleeding berating
Truth is your love died along with my credit rating
* not very good is it? But stick it in if you like - R.J.
Surrender to my auto centric world
With crinkled nose of displeasure
at painful insults hurled
Invest, invest did I nothing but pure heart and treasure
Return our love
Avast the sailing of a low tide of briny drops
Curtaining the window of demure emotion
Lest dew should worry plumb cheek tops
Questioning my utter devotion
Return your love
As per your statutory rights
Gift of a mans soul
Pair of laddered tights
Pseudo contentedness as per, so empty a bowl*
You incessantly blame me for ear bleeding berating
Truth is your love died along with my credit rating
* not very good is it? But stick it in if you like - R.J.
Benefits of benefits
Tracksuit clad youths push a mini motorbike
Steering round a drunk pissing up a red brick wall
Whilst his snot nosed infant throws stones, the little tyke
Wrecks a phone box, despite being only three feet tall.
Needles strewn along the kerb
Boarded up houses still inhabited, the house is cold - the Telly’s hot
Disenfranchised teens sit in crumbling grey bus shelters puffing herb
Communal grass doubles as a junkies improvised cot.
Upon the road in foot high bright white paint
Illiterate drug-orphans scrawled Fuk tha PoliceAwfully rude, yet rather quaint
Pity the support officer sent to proffer peace
A leading artist made us a sculpture here, once
It lasted two hours before the first tags stained
the now corroded loving effort as abandoned as community newsletters printed in comic fonts
Crumpled with an agony of twisted steel ill maintained
Grass that’s rarely ever mown
Cracked tiles, detritus in the holes similar to councillors lame words
Weeds poke between Happy Meals in flower beds overgrown
A thousand miles from pride fuelled suburbs
A crazed mut, worse than rabid patrols
Alongside nineteen year old Tanya pushing her wobbly second hand pram
Slaloming through dozens of ineptly unfixed pot holes
On her way to carry out a refund scam
All of these entertainments distract me not
Swinging the lead, my cost of living’s free
Reclining I survey my decent lot
As for years……. I’ve fiddled the good old D.W.P.
Steering round a drunk pissing up a red brick wall
Whilst his snot nosed infant throws stones, the little tyke
Wrecks a phone box, despite being only three feet tall.
Needles strewn along the kerb
Boarded up houses still inhabited, the house is cold - the Telly’s hot
Disenfranchised teens sit in crumbling grey bus shelters puffing herb
Communal grass doubles as a junkies improvised cot.
Upon the road in foot high bright white paint
Illiterate drug-orphans scrawled Fuk tha PoliceAwfully rude, yet rather quaint
Pity the support officer sent to proffer peace
A leading artist made us a sculpture here, once
It lasted two hours before the first tags stained
the now corroded loving effort as abandoned as community newsletters printed in comic fonts
Crumpled with an agony of twisted steel ill maintained
Grass that’s rarely ever mown
Cracked tiles, detritus in the holes similar to councillors lame words
Weeds poke between Happy Meals in flower beds overgrown
A thousand miles from pride fuelled suburbs
A crazed mut, worse than rabid patrols
Alongside nineteen year old Tanya pushing her wobbly second hand pram
Slaloming through dozens of ineptly unfixed pot holes
On her way to carry out a refund scam
All of these entertainments distract me not
Swinging the lead, my cost of living’s free
Reclining I survey my decent lot
As for years……. I’ve fiddled the good old D.W.P.
Tales born of designation
Lead spitting cobra thrusting
7 rounds a second
Accurately toward enemy cowering behind rocks busting
2 at a time if needs be, Talibs not quick enough to abscond.
Lubricated lovingly by the oil we protect our be-
9 presence when operating undetected the very ba-
6 of our craft bathed in lunar luminescence
Allowing mothers to know their sons suffered not.
1 at a time. ad infinitum.
Lightning white hot & molten too quick for diving to ab-
8 their chances of being struck, no medic could re-
5 splintered torso, tumbled rounds or deceptive
Angled glances.
2ward them snake paths of ball rocketing dirt above
Immobile killers prepared to be scared of death again
Without inept shame their masters reek of.
Hot headed
& eager to engage infidels
Killing their weak bodies whilst
Liberating deluded minds, my prophets bloodlust quells
1ton destructions morbid ache.
7ty yards away behind a berm, a sweaty Mahdi swaps magazines
Alarmed at the calm Tom's grasp of technology (just a generation before
2berculouses claimed an uncle) undoubtedly a man by his late teens,
Umbrellas of floating fire leave Terry cowering helpless at his friends loud drama
Galvanised in blinding phosphorus
Lighting the path to Allah.
7 rounds a second
Accurately toward enemy cowering behind rocks busting
2 at a time if needs be, Talibs not quick enough to abscond.
Lubricated lovingly by the oil we protect our be-
9 presence when operating undetected the very ba-
6 of our craft bathed in lunar luminescence
Allowing mothers to know their sons suffered not.
1 at a time. ad infinitum.
Lightning white hot & molten too quick for diving to ab-
8 their chances of being struck, no medic could re-
5 splintered torso, tumbled rounds or deceptive
Angled glances.
2ward them snake paths of ball rocketing dirt above
Immobile killers prepared to be scared of death again
Without inept shame their masters reek of.
Hot headed
& eager to engage infidels
Killing their weak bodies whilst
Liberating deluded minds, my prophets bloodlust quells
1ton destructions morbid ache.
7ty yards away behind a berm, a sweaty Mahdi swaps magazines
Alarmed at the calm Tom's grasp of technology (just a generation before
2berculouses claimed an uncle) undoubtedly a man by his late teens,
Umbrellas of floating fire leave Terry cowering helpless at his friends loud drama
Galvanised in blinding phosphorus
Lighting the path to Allah.
Yank the Plank
Boot or trunk
Afterburn or Reheat
Waterboard or biscuit dunk?
In metres as opposed to feet
Silence or suppress?
Subtle olde world whisper or decadent stateside screams
Careful precedence or shambolic banking mess
Would you chant for city, or build a field of dreams?
Thomas Hamilton or the Washington sniper?
Our was nasty his victims had nappy rash
In the end yours required a diaper
But you’d have given Malvo the needle, just for dealing hash.
Fins or Flippers
Two fingers or one
Pancakes or Kippers
Ronnie `n` Reggie or a fat eyetie Don?
Bonnet or Hood
Pavement or sidewalk
They’d escape if they could
But you wont hear the poorest talk
On either disposable mobiles or cosmetic cell
Fortunes claimed from deep under a swell north sea,
Or nodded by a donkey from deep dark Texan well
Faggot or Queer
Sweets or Candy
Stonewalls lessons fully absorbed over here
McCarthyism today sure would come in handy
Are you an Islam or an in god we trust?
What’s that ya say sport?
Iraq or bust!
Afterburn or Reheat
Waterboard or biscuit dunk?
In metres as opposed to feet
Silence or suppress?
Subtle olde world whisper or decadent stateside screams
Careful precedence or shambolic banking mess
Would you chant for city, or build a field of dreams?
Thomas Hamilton or the Washington sniper?
Our was nasty his victims had nappy rash
In the end yours required a diaper
But you’d have given Malvo the needle, just for dealing hash.
Fins or Flippers
Two fingers or one
Pancakes or Kippers
Ronnie `n` Reggie or a fat eyetie Don?
Bonnet or Hood
Pavement or sidewalk
They’d escape if they could
But you wont hear the poorest talk
On either disposable mobiles or cosmetic cell
Fortunes claimed from deep under a swell north sea,
Or nodded by a donkey from deep dark Texan well
Faggot or Queer
Sweets or Candy
Stonewalls lessons fully absorbed over here
McCarthyism today sure would come in handy
Are you an Islam or an in god we trust?
What’s that ya say sport?
Iraq or bust!
K I A
Kitted Ineptly, Ancient
Karki Impure Apparel,
Knackered Intrepid Army
Kissed Indignant Assassins.
Kept Inside Asgard
Khyber Impossible Aspiration
Kosher Israeli Appearance?
Kiblah Irritates Americans
Karzai’s Imbecilic Acceptance.
Kalashnikov Indicates Anger
Kilo India Alpha
Kieran Ian Anderson
Kings Infantry, Afghanistan.
Killed In Action.
Karki Impure Apparel,
Knackered Intrepid Army
Kissed Indignant Assassins.
Kept Inside Asgard
Khyber Impossible Aspiration
Kosher Israeli Appearance?
Kiblah Irritates Americans
Karzai’s Imbecilic Acceptance.
Kalashnikov Indicates Anger
Kilo India Alpha
Kieran Ian Anderson
Kings Infantry, Afghanistan.
Killed In Action.
He’s still there
He’s still there you know,
Waiting for the women to come out and cut up what remains.
He’s still there you know,
I watched as he filled the electric kettle all precise,
slamming down the lid
Like some durable black top cover of a smoothed feed tray.
He might act normal most of the time but,
He’s still there you know,
I watched him in the pub the other night,
Interacting with civilians,
Mid tour leave & happy almost with being on the skive.
But still wishing his pool cue as he twirled it
Would turn into his L-85.
Waiting for the women to come out and cut up what remains.
He’s still there you know,
I watched as he filled the electric kettle all precise,
slamming down the lid
Like some durable black top cover of a smoothed feed tray.
He might act normal most of the time but,
He’s still there you know,
I watched him in the pub the other night,
Interacting with civilians,
Mid tour leave & happy almost with being on the skive.
But still wishing his pool cue as he twirled it
Would turn into his L-85.
Gunners End: Correct drill for an Operator Mechanic (Above Water ) promoted to Glory;
Hearse of Fiberglas sheaths my casket
Gripped by gunners dressed head to toe in black
Mahogany shell cradled on a silver trolley
Pulled from the deep magazine of life
Selected in a salvo of nine for the eternal starburst
Heaved up onto six smart shoulders at a gunroom door
Pews of goofers port and starboard
Seem relieved now, more than sad.
Loaded flat on ring of steel
The bish gobs off a bit
Following protocol, procedure remains
“Load” cries the bish as the hoist lowers me from the room
All swept away, me, my Oppo's & our old crimson stains.
Up goes the blast proof hatch of the feed tray
And I’m fired into hell,
my ash casing ejected into the forever.
Gripped by gunners dressed head to toe in black
Mahogany shell cradled on a silver trolley
Pulled from the deep magazine of life
Selected in a salvo of nine for the eternal starburst
Heaved up onto six smart shoulders at a gunroom door
Pews of goofers port and starboard
Seem relieved now, more than sad.
Loaded flat on ring of steel
The bish gobs off a bit
Following protocol, procedure remains
“Load” cries the bish as the hoist lowers me from the room
All swept away, me, my Oppo's & our old crimson stains.
Up goes the blast proof hatch of the feed tray
And I’m fired into hell,
my ash casing ejected into the forever.
Liar.
Us liars are all similar, egotistical spoofs
lacing hay to saddlebags
dried grass of top heavy untruths
our Babel of loose lipped brags
weaker even than peeling sunburnt skin
flaking from crimson shoulders
tougher, longer lasting than my spin
that turns to so much dust
far quicker than comparable shed boulders
Ground to a grit of prevarication, covers more in twisted deceit filled psyches'
so, when truth encroaches
threatening to tear a veneer of calculated wheeze
stolen from fantasy or truths of others my tongue poaches
flapping in unscrupulous effort to keep the wolf from the door
barging through my veil those who discover me far from play are hurled
whilst administrating the cheated, each one a point to score
one nil to me repeatedly despite my thinking it is I versus that world
Which robbed me blind of empathy wrenched by previous emotional heist
leaves but unashamed fear as real as any minorities persecution
probing clever minds an antichrist
people who will cry nonsense and deliver embarrassing retribution
can concentrate not on my faux pile
but regard their own contrived existence first
cosmetic vapid pointlessness thrills you all the while
talent less retards auditioning is to your minds a quenched thirst
Satiates pseudo morality enough to condemn us liars as untrustworthy people
but remember, attempting to bullshit bullshiters
first led some brave sole to question the God under your steeple.
Few would argue for sermons to re-replace their Twitters.
Unified we stand in hatred
self detesting so much stronger ever than hate you
might summon at my shamed defrocking, as phoney covers skated
off over a hill of unmasked shock, tainted with an honest dew.
lacing hay to saddlebags
dried grass of top heavy untruths
our Babel of loose lipped brags
weaker even than peeling sunburnt skin
flaking from crimson shoulders
tougher, longer lasting than my spin
that turns to so much dust
far quicker than comparable shed boulders
Ground to a grit of prevarication, covers more in twisted deceit filled psyches'
so, when truth encroaches
threatening to tear a veneer of calculated wheeze
stolen from fantasy or truths of others my tongue poaches
flapping in unscrupulous effort to keep the wolf from the door
barging through my veil those who discover me far from play are hurled
whilst administrating the cheated, each one a point to score
one nil to me repeatedly despite my thinking it is I versus that world
Which robbed me blind of empathy wrenched by previous emotional heist
leaves but unashamed fear as real as any minorities persecution
probing clever minds an antichrist
people who will cry nonsense and deliver embarrassing retribution
can concentrate not on my faux pile
but regard their own contrived existence first
cosmetic vapid pointlessness thrills you all the while
talent less retards auditioning is to your minds a quenched thirst
Satiates pseudo morality enough to condemn us liars as untrustworthy people
but remember, attempting to bullshit bullshiters
first led some brave sole to question the God under your steeple.
Few would argue for sermons to re-replace their Twitters.
Unified we stand in hatred
self detesting so much stronger ever than hate you
might summon at my shamed defrocking, as phoney covers skated
off over a hill of unmasked shock, tainted with an honest dew.
Perils Of Deceit
Perils Of Deceit.
poison laced is a crust of deceit, so much fear
delicate & perilously close to loosing sanity
revealing a petrified naked smear
upon the canvas of all humanity
who's oxygen I unworthily dare to breathe, contaminating
air for others with evil lies as often as I exhale
mountains of brave fantasy from realty my difficulty differentiating
leaves my life an empty burst vein, with skin pale
pallid whilst decaying
rotting veneer of continued deception
spread once tightly across a drum I was overplaying
evil and as wrong now as from its complex conception
was ill conceived and painful
to those who proffered truth and care
love could not transcend the seeds, my conceded sin uncovered as a skull
inevitable quizzes reveal it a fraction of a graveyard to be laid bear
growling demons of a repressed, latent bisexuality exacerbate
no hero status for I never served
alongside men for whom Telic was more than idle debate
talking to them leaves me sadly demurred
not fit to shine their boots
nor iron their barrack dress
but then, not I of any man whether subject to salutes
even civilian honest criminals have more ethical success ;
Bankrupt and devoid of soul
refusing drink played any part
wrong! so outrageously stubborn, helping hide the truth I stole
return me please god, to the start
years back before all my crying, whining & self deluded
mind was fresh, most friends naive, unspent
my own down fall could have been precluded
had I known then what weight and power mere honesty meant
never would I have toyed with, and played them all for fools
restlessly but in silence they all pushed me away
unsure, never knowing what slivers of hoax forth spews
guessing fact from fiction a bored, tired of my lame display
* * *
More! be warned, more, so much more than just this
deception taints the vine of any networking
forget fruitful careers when gossiped as a false kiss
truths to be uncovered are omnipresence lurking
for partners of the future to uncover, shall I marry based on a core of lies?
consideration for but a moment leaves me sobbing
what fool am I to believe contentment from honesty shies
and when will I know the depth my robbing
friends, family, doctors and officials
of any veracity with regard my life?
probably when real trouble pulls
at exploratory strings of strife
unplugging the stopper of falsehood
praying hard had not prevented
exposure of my life as ruined as my tainted blood
coursing through my contrived persona auto-invented
responsively toward a society miss perceived
by my own stubborn alcoholic belligerence
malice of hungover fool acted well, meaning loved ones believed
my evil, selfish excuses and sad pretence
could only carry on for so long before I was hoisted by my own petard
held down low, amassed shame amid disappointment
kith & kin equally scarred
thusly forever suspicious of any word blessed by my anointment
to the chapel then, last bastion of us mental pricks
good company here shall be found
lest I be tempted to prematurely cross the Styx
with much fantasy abound,
Finally! I am at home here,
with all the others who simply can not handle reality.
Hiding away from sin, vice, fear and beer
pressurised personal problems a banality
under the greatest lie of all, worldwide gigantic spoof
no wonder one like I would find solace
no longer alone through fear of truth
all but dead inside.
chances of escape to regular content
might never be espied
until for endless lies I have paid repent.
poison laced is a crust of deceit, so much fear
delicate & perilously close to loosing sanity
revealing a petrified naked smear
upon the canvas of all humanity
who's oxygen I unworthily dare to breathe, contaminating
air for others with evil lies as often as I exhale
mountains of brave fantasy from realty my difficulty differentiating
leaves my life an empty burst vein, with skin pale
pallid whilst decaying
rotting veneer of continued deception
spread once tightly across a drum I was overplaying
evil and as wrong now as from its complex conception
was ill conceived and painful
to those who proffered truth and care
love could not transcend the seeds, my conceded sin uncovered as a skull
inevitable quizzes reveal it a fraction of a graveyard to be laid bear
growling demons of a repressed, latent bisexuality exacerbate
no hero status for I never served
alongside men for whom Telic was more than idle debate
talking to them leaves me sadly demurred
not fit to shine their boots
nor iron their barrack dress
but then, not I of any man whether subject to salutes
even civilian honest criminals have more ethical success ;
Bankrupt and devoid of soul
refusing drink played any part
wrong! so outrageously stubborn, helping hide the truth I stole
return me please god, to the start
years back before all my crying, whining & self deluded
mind was fresh, most friends naive, unspent
my own down fall could have been precluded
had I known then what weight and power mere honesty meant
never would I have toyed with, and played them all for fools
restlessly but in silence they all pushed me away
unsure, never knowing what slivers of hoax forth spews
guessing fact from fiction a bored, tired of my lame display
* * *
More! be warned, more, so much more than just this
deception taints the vine of any networking
forget fruitful careers when gossiped as a false kiss
truths to be uncovered are omnipresence lurking
for partners of the future to uncover, shall I marry based on a core of lies?
consideration for but a moment leaves me sobbing
what fool am I to believe contentment from honesty shies
and when will I know the depth my robbing
friends, family, doctors and officials
of any veracity with regard my life?
probably when real trouble pulls
at exploratory strings of strife
unplugging the stopper of falsehood
praying hard had not prevented
exposure of my life as ruined as my tainted blood
coursing through my contrived persona auto-invented
responsively toward a society miss perceived
by my own stubborn alcoholic belligerence
malice of hungover fool acted well, meaning loved ones believed
my evil, selfish excuses and sad pretence
could only carry on for so long before I was hoisted by my own petard
held down low, amassed shame amid disappointment
kith & kin equally scarred
thusly forever suspicious of any word blessed by my anointment
to the chapel then, last bastion of us mental pricks
good company here shall be found
lest I be tempted to prematurely cross the Styx
with much fantasy abound,
Finally! I am at home here,
with all the others who simply can not handle reality.
Hiding away from sin, vice, fear and beer
pressurised personal problems a banality
under the greatest lie of all, worldwide gigantic spoof
no wonder one like I would find solace
no longer alone through fear of truth
all but dead inside.
chances of escape to regular content
might never be espied
until for endless lies I have paid repent.
Monday 21 February 2011
Selling Pencils
Back when de Klerk handed over a frayed harness
Our timeless youth heir only to hope
I have a perfect recollection of the very moment I assumed
All these silly stories & much of the conformity mess
would be consigned to legend & literature, comprehension our method to cope
without tosh that petrifies, by a scythe of reason pruned.
Beaming in my naivety, shaking my head for our teachers in genuine pity
I knew with Russell's certainty
that there was no god
and that our generation would dispel with systems witty
& glorious philosophy
any notion that we are not all on our Todd.
Embarrassed at first to open my eyes
literally, during our enforced moments of prayer
our vulgar, communal worship
logic at my fingers prise
company of other wide eyed rebels removes any scare
acres more than communions contrived sip.
Anger brewed at our masters
masquerading under their miss's & sirs
as bastions of honesty
in collusion with visiting pastors
reinforced that even King James conquers
with their methodical, child monastery
Fact it was! no debate entailed
any quiz instantly with derision met
" would Mary Jones have walked all the way to Bala
her feet bare, her stomach empty, if her will had not prevailed
as Iesi Crist forged her resource to interpret
her faith as strength?" But who's to say it wasn't Inshallah ?
Later on & all through high school
we actively resented god.
In hindsight, I wished I'd learnt the words to Calon Lan
patriotism substitutes faith with substance to fuel
our struggle, shouldering the anti-theists hod
removing brick by brick a golden empire belonging in an old converted barn.
Worse vivid memories of being marched to church
each Sunday whilst at Raleigh
angered me, but not enough to break rank
Teenage loyalty to HM should not be taken lightly, I had not to search
as my civvy peers "To be, simply, me"
but still from the advances of padres & ministers I duly shrank
Cursing their names and tactic
approaching young men while vulnerable
Even whilst at Sea, for some their first time away from home
conspicuous in the absence of Sufic
When one cruised our mess deck with a fable
of how sailors drink themselves so as to look like a cyclostome
No remorse for being a most intrusive pest
Smirking slightly my inquiry shook him
exactly how many children have you left deeply fucked up?
there's no better than Mors Ultima Linea Rerum Est
so take your Book of fables and see if it'll skim
'cos Bish -You should be selling pencils from a cup!
For Christopher Hitchens, who reminds us it is better to not know and deal with it, rather than to guess poorly and subsequently mentally torture and rule tyrannically in the name of that guess.
Our timeless youth heir only to hope
I have a perfect recollection of the very moment I assumed
All these silly stories & much of the conformity mess
would be consigned to legend & literature, comprehension our method to cope
without tosh that petrifies, by a scythe of reason pruned.
Beaming in my naivety, shaking my head for our teachers in genuine pity
I knew with Russell's certainty
that there was no god
and that our generation would dispel with systems witty
& glorious philosophy
any notion that we are not all on our Todd.
Embarrassed at first to open my eyes
literally, during our enforced moments of prayer
our vulgar, communal worship
logic at my fingers prise
company of other wide eyed rebels removes any scare
acres more than communions contrived sip.
Anger brewed at our masters
masquerading under their miss's & sirs
as bastions of honesty
in collusion with visiting pastors
reinforced that even King James conquers
with their methodical, child monastery
Fact it was! no debate entailed
any quiz instantly with derision met
" would Mary Jones have walked all the way to Bala
her feet bare, her stomach empty, if her will had not prevailed
as Iesi Crist forged her resource to interpret
her faith as strength?" But who's to say it wasn't Inshallah ?
Later on & all through high school
we actively resented god.
In hindsight, I wished I'd learnt the words to Calon Lan
patriotism substitutes faith with substance to fuel
our struggle, shouldering the anti-theists hod
removing brick by brick a golden empire belonging in an old converted barn.
Worse vivid memories of being marched to church
each Sunday whilst at Raleigh
angered me, but not enough to break rank
Teenage loyalty to HM should not be taken lightly, I had not to search
as my civvy peers "To be, simply, me"
but still from the advances of padres & ministers I duly shrank
Cursing their names and tactic
approaching young men while vulnerable
Even whilst at Sea, for some their first time away from home
conspicuous in the absence of Sufic
When one cruised our mess deck with a fable
of how sailors drink themselves so as to look like a cyclostome
No remorse for being a most intrusive pest
Smirking slightly my inquiry shook him
exactly how many children have you left deeply fucked up?
there's no better than Mors Ultima Linea Rerum Est
so take your Book of fables and see if it'll skim
'cos Bish -You should be selling pencils from a cup!
For Christopher Hitchens, who reminds us it is better to not know and deal with it, rather than to guess poorly and subsequently mentally torture and rule tyrannically in the name of that guess.
Hypocrite
Hypocrite
No shoes! But still, off she wanders!
Muttering confused menaces as she avoids
Green, Brown and clear broken shards, remnants of a joyous, rich revelry
Along the wide pavements of the Western Road
No shoes! stands staring at a fat man's roll
a bilge pump of overflowing egg & sweetcure bacon
dropping like a Red Cross aid package
to malnourished pigeons that tussle for prizes
Her stomach worries the Richter scale ’neath her stinking clothes
No shoes! as she scuttles along the cobbles of The Lanes
Swearing at small children
halitosis disguised by Woodpecker, before the mid morning
but still passing advice & comment on the evils of society
to any member of the public
foolish enough to cross her path
No Shoes! Mental!
Exclaims the Children’s Illustrations Undergraduate,
dressed in a Great War trench coat, sporting an ironic Fez.
No shoes! But still, off she wanders!
Muttering confused menaces as she avoids
Green, Brown and clear broken shards, remnants of a joyous, rich revelry
Along the wide pavements of the Western Road
No shoes! stands staring at a fat man's roll
a bilge pump of overflowing egg & sweetcure bacon
dropping like a Red Cross aid package
to malnourished pigeons that tussle for prizes
Her stomach worries the Richter scale ’neath her stinking clothes
No shoes! as she scuttles along the cobbles of The Lanes
Swearing at small children
halitosis disguised by Woodpecker, before the mid morning
but still passing advice & comment on the evils of society
to any member of the public
foolish enough to cross her path
No Shoes! Mental!
Exclaims the Children’s Illustrations Undergraduate,
dressed in a Great War trench coat, sporting an ironic Fez.
Pulled Into Line
Pulled Into Line
Pull yourself into line
Passing as flies pass cars on motorways lucky enough not to connect
Unaware of each others existence alone in this mire of mine
But with fleeting glances one simply can not effect
Ones love for a world gone awry
When violent confrontation is a continual story
No longer the sensation of a boring day
but the normality in a boring subsistence
so common to put your attributes on display
that I shy away, coy and appropriately sad with little resistance
pull myself into line
draw upon courage from my fantasy of day dreaming.
daring to drop my hood on the way to work
Roaring louder than Salto Ángel as if to say "do you heathen scum hear me screaming? "
Forever lost is an appetite of real carnage
So thought many a scholarly gent
Torn back from the brink, now not lost to infinity is primordial rage
On slaughtering a nobody feral teen I’m bent
Pulling my way to a claret covered bus stop
Already death hath passed this way
Waiting for the 8.15 some heads he did lop
Decapitated looks of incredulity lie in the gutter, still where whomever did slay
Had left them, probably whilst laughing.
Pull the other one driver!
Refuses my ten pound note as he has no change
Scouser too! Slowly I explain that I will report the useless skiver
And at a rush a compromise he did arrange
jerking along sickeningly, sanity giving headphones help me ignore that soon
Orange bricked, glass domed cantos of misery spread themselves before
badly manicured lawns and a broken fountain, low is the current garden budget
My cheap suit not uncommon, not here will poor taste earn you deplore
As long as pointless greedy targets are met
Pulled up in front of my yuppie simpleton of a supervisor
pin striped macho tough guy, likes tits & beer and speaks awfully blunt
false as Adolph's loyalty to the deposed Kaiser
is my deference to this prize cunt
dismissed back to my pine bunker in a Formica edged cage,
diminished pride barely motivates me from walking out
thoughts of Thai beaches help me engage
with the protocol of selling, morality again in doubt
Pulchritude of a hazel eyed siren
flattens itself across my mind
attacking receptors filled with hate, from threads of self pity spun
after a capitalist despair had left me blind
she cuts through my knitted agony
of this worlds selfish lust for a quick quid
or violent, rushed, drunken sex spree
camouflaged in my mind as normal, common sense hid
behind the four day weekend
of promiscuity
Not since she pulled me into line.
Pull yourself into line
Passing as flies pass cars on motorways lucky enough not to connect
Unaware of each others existence alone in this mire of mine
But with fleeting glances one simply can not effect
Ones love for a world gone awry
When violent confrontation is a continual story
No longer the sensation of a boring day
but the normality in a boring subsistence
so common to put your attributes on display
that I shy away, coy and appropriately sad with little resistance
pull myself into line
draw upon courage from my fantasy of day dreaming.
daring to drop my hood on the way to work
Roaring louder than Salto Ángel as if to say "do you heathen scum hear me screaming? "
Forever lost is an appetite of real carnage
So thought many a scholarly gent
Torn back from the brink, now not lost to infinity is primordial rage
On slaughtering a nobody feral teen I’m bent
Pulling my way to a claret covered bus stop
Already death hath passed this way
Waiting for the 8.15 some heads he did lop
Decapitated looks of incredulity lie in the gutter, still where whomever did slay
Had left them, probably whilst laughing.
Pull the other one driver!
Refuses my ten pound note as he has no change
Scouser too! Slowly I explain that I will report the useless skiver
And at a rush a compromise he did arrange
jerking along sickeningly, sanity giving headphones help me ignore that soon
Orange bricked, glass domed cantos of misery spread themselves before
badly manicured lawns and a broken fountain, low is the current garden budget
My cheap suit not uncommon, not here will poor taste earn you deplore
As long as pointless greedy targets are met
Pulled up in front of my yuppie simpleton of a supervisor
pin striped macho tough guy, likes tits & beer and speaks awfully blunt
false as Adolph's loyalty to the deposed Kaiser
is my deference to this prize cunt
dismissed back to my pine bunker in a Formica edged cage,
diminished pride barely motivates me from walking out
thoughts of Thai beaches help me engage
with the protocol of selling, morality again in doubt
Pulchritude of a hazel eyed siren
flattens itself across my mind
attacking receptors filled with hate, from threads of self pity spun
after a capitalist despair had left me blind
she cuts through my knitted agony
of this worlds selfish lust for a quick quid
or violent, rushed, drunken sex spree
camouflaged in my mind as normal, common sense hid
behind the four day weekend
of promiscuity
Not since she pulled me into line.
Love
Love
Love is a translucent escort of two people
present but passive to the unconscious mind
Souls connected by an invisible embrace
Eyes all seeing, especially when screwed tightly shut
Love recommends two people join together
Love may discard frail predictions from Tinkers Heather
As Love is that meal thoughtfully prepared for a partner returning home/
a shared smoke/ a walk along a windswept moor
or Tea & toast in bed
In short the simpler gifts we impart to one & other
That to humble I is all Love is
no wonder then I spend another year alone
Lodging with my diabetic Mother.
Love is a translucent escort of two people
present but passive to the unconscious mind
Souls connected by an invisible embrace
Eyes all seeing, especially when screwed tightly shut
Love recommends two people join together
Love may discard frail predictions from Tinkers Heather
As Love is that meal thoughtfully prepared for a partner returning home/
a shared smoke/ a walk along a windswept moor
or Tea & toast in bed
In short the simpler gifts we impart to one & other
That to humble I is all Love is
no wonder then I spend another year alone
Lodging with my diabetic Mother.
Net Curtains
Net Curtains
Once the Ghillie suit of the curious nosy neighbour
In a not too distant future
( when war ravages the domestic bliss of this green & pleasant land)
They'll be the Snipers greatest friend
as the Seven Six Two
Whistles hurriedly through.
Once the Ghillie suit of the curious nosy neighbour
In a not too distant future
( when war ravages the domestic bliss of this green & pleasant land)
They'll be the Snipers greatest friend
as the Seven Six Two
Whistles hurriedly through.
To the Esteemed Members of the Fourth Estate
To the Esteemed Members of the Fourth Estate
Skip silent, or hurtle loud
Attend to your desires, or else leave want sound
Attack your enemies, or else check all fear
Decide to conquer indecision ,
Or leave ambiguities to fade only in their own time?
Read all the classics, grapple with logic, enjoy literatures wealth
or inspire armies of opponents to burn anthropologies archives
of right & wrong.
Destroy that unpopular opposition!
Implore the world to love
else spread the word of pain
but never feel qualified,
to stem the tide of rigorous debate
merely as haughty members
of that perishable Fourth Estate
Skip silent, or hurtle loud
Attend to your desires, or else leave want sound
Attack your enemies, or else check all fear
Decide to conquer indecision ,
Or leave ambiguities to fade only in their own time?
Read all the classics, grapple with logic, enjoy literatures wealth
or inspire armies of opponents to burn anthropologies archives
of right & wrong.
Destroy that unpopular opposition!
Implore the world to love
else spread the word of pain
but never feel qualified,
to stem the tide of rigorous debate
merely as haughty members
of that perishable Fourth Estate
Mr Minister ( Part I )
Mister Minister ( part I ) Scene of wicked enterprise Closet of the depraved instigating safe fear Patent black rides up to a set of St Tropez thighs Bargain red stripe wallpaper, rougher than the beer Perpetuating malice of thought, what the hell am I to do if caught? What of the vile plebs? and then of course my wife? What of the chief whip? Ha! looks like his mistress’s on the stage Would that they might comprehend the strain of constituency life Folly! insisting ministers must all be blandly beige Tea towel holder in front of me recedes between walnut cheeks Sipping only ice altered glen something, my tie gone, top buttons free toying with her split vallum pent up lust inside peeks Issues of state abandoned, my loins ablaze, Oh! heaven help me! Stretched out timid as the whore picks up her skimpy skirt She watched my twitching face, she knows of my translucent viscous shame But what consequence the derision of a slut born in the dirt Her voice, without my cash remains pathetically lame Power of the Old Boys would put her in her place Dipped in the river by Chatham, aught but old carpet to wear Lapping cold waters abound her, trickling up her pretty made up face Dipping below the water line, I’d pay plod not to care cheaper though are bribes at source toward her cotton pickin' grasping fingers green plastic card normally reserved for when plus fours and pastels, a leisurely golf round, guilt's bubbling spring suppressed, oiled with trebles galore for wanton gluttonies costly stride may insight furore should statements featuring lap dancers dyed black indelible proof of wickedness partitioned grounds for divorce espied by my permanent mistress governor of all creation, keeper of limitless resource scrutinising retro whereabouts interrogation followed similar patterns per monthly cycle meaning first fortnight doubts and wretched worry pull strings connected to bells that fear Discovery, a tune beaten out by skilled campanologist's clear cut evidence of infidelities clout My head into thinking far too fast already concentrate on the taxi back to the grace & favour well exercised heart back to a steady pace, enhanced but by worry by my misses finger wag, leaves me no braver. Part II is being written. |
Snatch
Snatch.
We lie in state almost
still forever inside
blood red
vein blue ghost
white draped boxes denied
solemnity as colleagues sped
around below
victims of their own improvisation
deterred little by lethal threats
forcing them only to slow
at fords and small bridges of irrigation
ditches reinforced by Persian Exocets
Homing in on pressure of a Landies unlucky wheel
inside brave fools of their own endeavour
soon to be casualties of other men's wars
too professionally cold to steal
notions they might be being robbed by clever
profiteering scum whose sins exist in scores
marking wrecks down as a neat bit of kite
deaf and blind as our badly burnt brave boys
calling for change from sterile rooms of curtain partitions
denied their voice, opinion and sight
while many mobile morgue deploys
groaning chassis unhindered by missions
induced fatigue or concentrations lapse.
Punishing terrain negotiated
quicker than crooked procurement
replaces four by four death traps
before lower house debated
families opted for private interment
Buried deep in temporary aluminium recesses
twixt five fresh Jackals bound for the front
nine zeros they cost to deliver
Too late for whimsy guesses
of how to orchestrate Osama's hunt
pine three inches from my nose, shrapnel in my liver
Cirrhosis of depleted uranium, Pax cashed,
protection no longer required
irony drapes guiltless shoulders
in ignominy at equipment hashed
deficits covered up by hoards of hired
yes men whose solution solders
fate belying safety
for men protected by less waxed canvas
than Hoon's daughters wedding marquee repair patch
continuing deliberately
to let lucrative deals pass
blowing teenagers to smithereens for some cheap old British Snatch.
We lie in state almost
still forever inside
blood red
vein blue ghost
white draped boxes denied
solemnity as colleagues sped
around below
victims of their own improvisation
deterred little by lethal threats
forcing them only to slow
at fords and small bridges of irrigation
ditches reinforced by Persian Exocets
Homing in on pressure of a Landies unlucky wheel
inside brave fools of their own endeavour
soon to be casualties of other men's wars
too professionally cold to steal
notions they might be being robbed by clever
profiteering scum whose sins exist in scores
marking wrecks down as a neat bit of kite
deaf and blind as our badly burnt brave boys
calling for change from sterile rooms of curtain partitions
denied their voice, opinion and sight
while many mobile morgue deploys
groaning chassis unhindered by missions
induced fatigue or concentrations lapse.
Punishing terrain negotiated
quicker than crooked procurement
replaces four by four death traps
before lower house debated
families opted for private interment
Buried deep in temporary aluminium recesses
twixt five fresh Jackals bound for the front
nine zeros they cost to deliver
Too late for whimsy guesses
of how to orchestrate Osama's hunt
pine three inches from my nose, shrapnel in my liver
Cirrhosis of depleted uranium, Pax cashed,
protection no longer required
irony drapes guiltless shoulders
in ignominy at equipment hashed
deficits covered up by hoards of hired
yes men whose solution solders
fate belying safety
for men protected by less waxed canvas
than Hoon's daughters wedding marquee repair patch
continuing deliberately
to let lucrative deals pass
blowing teenagers to smithereens for some cheap old British Snatch.
Reality of whores.
Reality of whores.
Is spilling blood for poor blind whores
more noble than crucifying men for paying women
who sell themselves in scores
never unburdening pimps of perpetuated moral spin
Do opiates quench harsh pain of ruptured dignity
more effectively when cut with brick dust
does it feel, as it curses home a tad gritty
crunching alien noise with each deep plunger thrust?
Poivrettes are but a few steps from becoming ladies if ill repute
but what of the poor child fucked before she drank?
terrified for life by her fathers prying fingers and bludgeoning boot
kicked through adolescence labelled by coping classes as a wretched skank.
Hiding horrid whores shall curtail it's propagation
denying users ease, only marriage shall appease so
guffawed blue blooded Tories, leaders of our nation
defining strategy with a lack of it, their uptakes commonly slow
Respect should be reciprocal breaking barriers of class
for trust is sure a seed to cure evil cancer of lust
secured in my back bedroom away from innocents who pass
on kerbs and corners wondering why such exposed bust
might be appropriate in such nippy cold.
Indoors now, no car parks or bushes. 'Clients' by appointment only,
unglamorous, flopping back bulky business mans fatty fold
rolling a slimy prophylactic down a tiny shaft in her tired lips
but better now, than standing on her spot, vulnerable and lonely.
Is spilling blood for poor blind whores
more noble than crucifying men for paying women
who sell themselves in scores
never unburdening pimps of perpetuated moral spin
Do opiates quench harsh pain of ruptured dignity
more effectively when cut with brick dust
does it feel, as it curses home a tad gritty
crunching alien noise with each deep plunger thrust?
Poivrettes are but a few steps from becoming ladies if ill repute
but what of the poor child fucked before she drank?
terrified for life by her fathers prying fingers and bludgeoning boot
kicked through adolescence labelled by coping classes as a wretched skank.
Hiding horrid whores shall curtail it's propagation
denying users ease, only marriage shall appease so
guffawed blue blooded Tories, leaders of our nation
defining strategy with a lack of it, their uptakes commonly slow
Respect should be reciprocal breaking barriers of class
for trust is sure a seed to cure evil cancer of lust
secured in my back bedroom away from innocents who pass
on kerbs and corners wondering why such exposed bust
might be appropriate in such nippy cold.
Indoors now, no car parks or bushes. 'Clients' by appointment only,
unglamorous, flopping back bulky business mans fatty fold
rolling a slimy prophylactic down a tiny shaft in her tired lips
but better now, than standing on her spot, vulnerable and lonely.
Formulae for Happiness
Formulae for Happiness
formulae often finds itself lent
to conveying pointless pompous
trivia collated after many hours
seem boringly irreverent
leading away from meaningful fuss
any relevance to most sours
into cheesy nonsense accumulated
around concluding refined assembly
of freshest baked bread ( Fb ) Times best cheddar ( x bC ) not processed
muck soldered on Mothers Pride by a yellow flux of imitated
butter instead relying on pseudo science like Mengele
self preserving and self obsessed
importance from deciding absolutes
but Wednesday left me shivering
to a medical degree constituting
data worthy of formulating beyond any logical disputes
such sweet words to leave me enraptured, quivering
cupids bow string looting
sense and reason from my smitten
mind peppered freely by affection scrawled in blue
ink on purpose bought stationary
not rare but uncommon enough in Britain
to show real care,devoid of inhibitions preview
honest love expressed very
clearly here in verbatim for alls appreciation
Hey Beautiful
hope your day was Fine
Money in my room for beers, was your hunt for occupation
today at all fruitful ?
the rest of the weed what's there is as yours as mine
Xxx
S.
Sweet Erato! such scribed joy can show no fraud
residing within that writers credible pen
aught but common niceties
inspire mathematic ideas moored
alongside quays of Zen
to launch factors of equation to replicate my please
Hey beautiful equals Hb
substitution possible of any other virtue
in recipient the author might somehow see
Hope your day was Fine, flew
from wrist to leaf created
Hb x Hd ® Fi(n)e already
a quarter way through an unequivocally equated
greatest ever communiqué able even to steady
tides of unease between nations
inquiring on my day disarming selflessness
skilfully deployed by a master diplomat
even after my rude aberrations
drunken misbehaviour enough to depress
saint Mungo, vile childish spat
seems ignored, slate clear
invite to enter his private chamber
where monies set aside purposefully
budgeted on purchase just for beer
guilt temporarily a spur
as rope of selfish pain shoots through a pulley
lining up our stringy factors
concentrating on Cash for beer
sees Hb x ( Hd ® Fn ) + Cb
again from gripped note euphoria pours
liberally trusting my maturity to adhere
with caveats arranged in pre
nuptial reconciliation but inevitably post
raging row, courting couples maelstrom
those pointless frustrated screams
reassuring opportunities of renaissance most
fallen drunks would kill for chances with such aplomb
powerful, capable, time left to listen thus fulfilling dreams
lived as a reality, to myself
physical evidence this courageous olive branch
not to be ignored let alone undermined
peeks offering Free Drugs with little stealth
displayed to convey trust at my questioned touch
assured Hb x ( Hd ® Fn ) + Cb x Fd lined
every canto of my mind
all this selfless simplicity
any broken twinges of uncertainty repaired
in finality we find
Hb x ( Hd ® Fn ) + ( Cb x Fd )
= tH or [ = tH² ]
our bottom line a constant of tH or
true Happiness, squared.
.
formulae often finds itself lent
to conveying pointless pompous
trivia collated after many hours
seem boringly irreverent
leading away from meaningful fuss
any relevance to most sours
into cheesy nonsense accumulated
around concluding refined assembly
of freshest baked bread ( Fb ) Times best cheddar ( x bC ) not processed
muck soldered on Mothers Pride by a yellow flux of imitated
butter instead relying on pseudo science like Mengele
self preserving and self obsessed
importance from deciding absolutes
but Wednesday left me shivering
to a medical degree constituting
data worthy of formulating beyond any logical disputes
such sweet words to leave me enraptured, quivering
cupids bow string looting
sense and reason from my smitten
mind peppered freely by affection scrawled in blue
ink on purpose bought stationary
not rare but uncommon enough in Britain
to show real care,devoid of inhibitions preview
honest love expressed very
clearly here in verbatim for alls appreciation
Hey Beautiful
hope your day was Fine
Money in my room for beers, was your hunt for occupation
today at all fruitful ?
the rest of the weed what's there is as yours as mine
Xxx
S.
Sweet Erato! such scribed joy can show no fraud
residing within that writers credible pen
aught but common niceties
inspire mathematic ideas moored
alongside quays of Zen
to launch factors of equation to replicate my please
Hey beautiful equals Hb
substitution possible of any other virtue
in recipient the author might somehow see
Hope your day was Fine, flew
from wrist to leaf created
Hb x Hd ® Fi(n)e already
a quarter way through an unequivocally equated
greatest ever communiqué able even to steady
tides of unease between nations
inquiring on my day disarming selflessness
skilfully deployed by a master diplomat
even after my rude aberrations
drunken misbehaviour enough to depress
saint Mungo, vile childish spat
seems ignored, slate clear
invite to enter his private chamber
where monies set aside purposefully
budgeted on purchase just for beer
guilt temporarily a spur
as rope of selfish pain shoots through a pulley
lining up our stringy factors
concentrating on Cash for beer
sees Hb x ( Hd ® Fn ) + Cb
again from gripped note euphoria pours
liberally trusting my maturity to adhere
with caveats arranged in pre
nuptial reconciliation but inevitably post
raging row, courting couples maelstrom
those pointless frustrated screams
reassuring opportunities of renaissance most
fallen drunks would kill for chances with such aplomb
powerful, capable, time left to listen thus fulfilling dreams
lived as a reality, to myself
physical evidence this courageous olive branch
not to be ignored let alone undermined
peeks offering Free Drugs with little stealth
displayed to convey trust at my questioned touch
assured Hb x ( Hd ® Fn ) + Cb x Fd lined
every canto of my mind
all this selfless simplicity
any broken twinges of uncertainty repaired
in finality we find
Hb x ( Hd ® Fn ) + ( Cb x Fd )
= tH or [ = tH² ]
our bottom line a constant of tH or
true Happiness, squared.
.
CALB
OED.
CALB: accr;
a CALB is a ….
Corrosive Anal Lying Berk.
Called Avast Little Britain
Come Augment Liverpudlian’sBurials
Condemning Aberdeen’s Loyal Boys.
Conflict Against Lashka Gar Bullies
Coming Across Limp Bodies
Combating Al-Amarahs Lunatic Bishops
Camouflaged Against Luxury Baghdad
Castles. Americans Loving Bullets.
Callow Arabs Learned Bloody
Cavalry Attacks Lacerated Burning
Corpses & Although Legions Battled
Caliphate Anarchy Loomed. Blaspheming
Cretins Added Loose Bluff.
Candid Arguments Lacked Boom
Cabinets Analysis Lingered Bleak
Can’t Anyone Look Back?
Caused Absolutely Limitlessly By
Charles Antony Linton Blair the
Corrosive Anal Lying Berk.
CALB: accr;
a CALB is a ….
Corrosive Anal Lying Berk.
Called Avast Little Britain
Come Augment Liverpudlian’sBurials
Condemning Aberdeen’s Loyal Boys.
Conflict Against Lashka Gar Bullies
Coming Across Limp Bodies
Combating Al-Amarahs Lunatic Bishops
Camouflaged Against Luxury Baghdad
Castles. Americans Loving Bullets.
Callow Arabs Learned Bloody
Cavalry Attacks Lacerated Burning
Corpses & Although Legions Battled
Caliphate Anarchy Loomed. Blaspheming
Cretins Added Loose Bluff.
Candid Arguments Lacked Boom
Cabinets Analysis Lingered Bleak
Can’t Anyone Look Back?
Caused Absolutely Limitlessly By
Charles Antony Linton Blair the
Corrosive Anal Lying Berk.
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