Your sweet and sour disposition lights my wide eyes seemingly
I've sunken deeper into your glory
The hills you paved were treacherous
I blinked in rhythm and counted corners
Nervously, I talked to much
Your eyes would prompt me to retire
But I would never let you win
I know sometimes my Achilles Heel is out to get me
The rumor is it could be you
I'd laugh to try to disconnect from all the things I hate to love
You'd try and look into my pupils and gaze into that great abyss
The dilation keeps you hooked but I could still never let you completly in
I tried to kiss you to surrender, but that's not what you've come here for
And I convincingly stare right through you and of those subtlties you wear
All that intimacy is not what I'd prayed for
I've come for something much more complex 
So what I need to do is stop deflecting, keep it real and hold you close
I wish that I could start connecting that broken little girl whom speaks in vain
Fairytales are not an option
But for some odd reason I'm starting to change my mind
The way I think is still distorted
And for you it might be a silly game
Because all these bruises keep me guarded
And all my problems shelter all my shame
And thus my soul is not yet at rest
And my heart still runs a muck
But if you have the patience for it
It might be better than you imagined

I. (The Real Poetry).

All these notions but nothing on the page.
Haven't we heard it all before?
Impetus from departed greats
wash ashore in our brains
but when confronted with an void white meadow
our hands go numb,
glued to the roof of a freezer.
This idea of mine is big, challenging,
but so far only a few thousand letters
have made dirty snow angels.
In its place, poetry.
Swifter to write, to read.
No rhymes usually,
just haphazard feelings lurching out my head
like a turquoise waterfall.
Sure I pace round the room
waiting for the next line to evolve
but who doesn't?
I write about real people,
people I speak to, people I know.
Do they know it's them when they skim my work?
Perhaps yes.
Perhaps they don't read them.
Perhaps best for all of us.
The book remains unseen, incomplete
while real poetry rushes into the world
like another superfluous boy band
playing more vapid pop.
Numb them instead.

II. (The Wind).

On a bench
in the garden
I sit with her
as she rests her frizzy Goldilocks
on my shoulder
and says I shouldn't go on Sunday.
A few years younger,
sweet and out of bounds.
Out. Of. Bounds.
So why am I holding her hand?
Doesn't mind from what I can tell.
She likes me.
No she can't.
When does 'the other side' ever like this?
I've told her about the one back home,
how she could be superseded.
I'll disclose, for a while now
I've seen photographs
and wondered what if,
what if the same way too feeling
snaked up the ladders
and throttled me?
What would her sister say?
'He's only been here four days
and look at him, cuddling
the queen of yesteryear.'
Her sister comes out, surprise, joins us.
Say no words, look at stars overhead.
The direction of the wind is altering.
Must be.
I unzip my eyes.

III. (The Sun and the Moon).

Half eight
a year or so in the distance
on a Wednesday morn.
A car.
Neither of us can drive as I write.
One of us is about to though.
London.
Why?
To meet friends.
Another reason?
A show.
A show of sun and moon.
A sporadic delight like a white Christmas.
I say to P it's one of those events
that must be attended.
I'm what, twenty-one?
She's gotta be twenty-four, five?
When will this ever come about again?
Have to acquire this chance.
He says if she'll be aware of the poem,
the one I scrawled down some time ago.
Doubt it, but you never know.
You never know.
Maybe it's true.
A young, beautiful girl
with a hat and a guitar.
There's something you don't see every day.
To the city.
Rejsen begynder.

I've seen this shit,
I've felt a hit,
    growin up most have split,
just fifteen  oh so close.
trust he past on an over dose,
all those kids that he knew
are suffurin still, no school no clue,
I'm still hear and standin true
my child HOOD school,
was at howard,
be tuff survive or be a coward,
15 too,
best friends ex had time to flex
did a drive by and hit the high way,
where's he at?
        fuck reward be fat....
All those girl that would never say nope, who made me shit?.
put me to trauma with the lies of there drama,
now there just hoes fuckin for dope,.
hangin in high school on a tender rope,
how they do it how they cope....

My first love was gone in cuffs,
would never lisson,
cause his parents were always in prision,
poppin pills?
       what great learning skills.
I used to get high to feal em in the sky as if he was on mars,
instead locked behind bars,
I miss him in tears, I feal for his fears.
when he gets out  for runnin and bookin,
hope he's still stunnin as sure as good lookin,


shit sure has faded
I'm sure glad I made it.  

Jesse   Mckush

Outside Oslo
in the base camp
after showering
you met Moira

in the cafe
for breakfast
and coffee
she was in a mood

about the Yank girl
and having to share
a tent with her
(when she wasn’t off

someplace being screwed
Moira said)
and always chewing gum
and those panties

she wears
I’ve seen more cloth
on a finger cut
she said

I’ll take your word for it
you said
she pouted
and stared at you

the finger cut I meant
you said
by the way
are you into

Oslo today?
you asked
mind if I hang along?
sure as long as you don’t

talk about the Yank
or football or Mahler
or whoever else
is hid up

in that brain of yours
she sipped her coffee
and ate her breakfast
saying nothing more

and you watched
as she ate
her eyes dark
and deep

her hair frizzed up
after the shower
her tee shirt
holding tight

her tits
and her blue jeans
hugging her thighs
as you’d like to do

later in Oslo
you toured about
the streets
saw the sights

had a beer or two
while you sat
with her
in some bar

she talking of Glasgow
and her job
and her brother
and his girlfriend

and how
she had this awful
wiggly arse
and floppy breasts

and large eyes
like cow pats
soft and brown
and she laughed  

and you liked it
when she laughed
it made her seem better
more human

less grumpy
less critical
and had you been
more brave you might

have kissed her
there and then
but you didn’t
you just ordered

another beer
and talked of Nietzsche
and Mahler
just to watch

her lips move
and incidentally
bore her.

On a care free day
Pandora had a box
She was told not to open
For In it brought misery
She had to much curiosity
She opened the box
And everything came out
All the diseases and everything bad
They stung her
She closed the box
And made it tight
Trapped inside was hope
Out came hope
curing the girl
And soon she did for the rest of the world

On a care free day
Pandora had a box
She was told not to open
For In it brought misery
She had to much curiosity
She opened the box
And everything came out
All the diseases and everything bad
They stung her
She closed the box
And made it tight
Trapped inside was hope
Out came hope
curing the girl
And soon she did for the rest of the world

On a care free day
Pandora had a box
She was told not to open
For In it brought misery
She had to much curiosity
She opened the box
And everything came out
All the diseases and everything bad
They stung her
She closed the box
And made it tight
Trapped inside was hope
Out came hope
curing the girl
And soon she did for the rest of the world

So i'm in this room,
these guys all wink,
hella dumb said pink in the stink,
when I focus they go
      Hocus -pocus,
    side tract mind cracked,
mind lost,
     double trouble.
I'm in math can't help but laugh
cause two plus two means me plus you, ? O.o
your just so funny,
  lol I'm not your'e honey,
your so cheezy and your'e hair is greesy.
Only girl,
And i'm the shit,
cause these boys can't take a hit,
bitchen. Bitchen hissy fit,
why there hear,
well babysit...

Were you always a killer,
commendable, expendable
secret agent girl?
Were you always a dancer, entrancer,
Irene Adler, romancer,
secret agent girl?
Were you smart or kind of heart,
lover of art, playing your part.
secret agent girl?
Were you feared or revered,
a pioneer of weird,
secret agent girl?
Were you a dream, beauty supreme,
eyes all agleam, more than you seemed,
secret agent girl?
Who lost you, tossed you
and at what cost due,
secret agent girl?

When did they rob you of your glory,
rewrite author, title, story,
secret agent girl?
Where did they take you, break you,
make you into something new,
secret agent girl?
Are you Cold War fossil lost in time,
too young to be old, past no prime,
secret agent girl?
Beneath the earth, above the sky,
not allowed to cry, to die, are you,
secret agent girl?
Who were you before your halo cracked,
before the fact, your devil's pact,
secret agent girl?
I'll kiss you, miss you,
this bliss is amiss,
secret agent girl.
It's time to go, leave me alone,
you broken hero,
secret agent girl.