Exonerated for a face no mother could love
Misconceptions and interjections of societies
misguided approach to beauty
Appearance is more than the physicalities
or the emotional travesties it causes
None of whom can ignore the plush bodies
in magazines or the hours spent looking
at hour glasses on silver screens
Smiles which gleam whilst those without
dentistry miss out on destiny
It’s not what you say, it’s what is projected
albeit subjective your standards are selective
Pavement crawlers to body bags, a failure to
understand grace runs deeper than
the vanity of man.
Jun 21, 2022
Jun 21, 2022 at 6:47 AM UTC
Mum said she can see me in you
Surely it must be different views;
See when I think of you I don’t see
the similarities that make me
anything like you.
The hospital told me you staggered
when you walked in and had to be
turned away, you missed the first
time the light hit my eyes yet tell me
that the future can change..
Maybe we could go camping dad?
Maybe you could sleep next to me
on the streets that you’ve destined
for me and you could find excuses
for why you were drunk yesterday
like I have to when I come in from
a long day.
We couldn’t camp though could we
Dad? She doesn’t let you out.
You’re dangerous outside the house,
addicted to flashing lights and liquid
life.
It’s blinding when you can’t see the
view, you’re losing me just as much
as I am losing you.
Do the maths and tell me how did it
equate to that?
When one could of become two but
instead you looked out for you.
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 5:22 AM UTC
As a boy I was destined to be a doctor.
Now I go to the doctors because I’ve been doctoring homemade remedies for pain and gain?
What did I gain.
A broken heart that’s forgotten how to love, what it was to feel a beat that could trickle all the way to my feet and in defeat I found yet another broken thing.
A broken mind that’s forgotten how to stride through time, that’s forgotten how to separate you and I. See there’s things that I can’t deny - yet there’s thing that YOU quickly deny.
See I’m not a druggy.
I’ve had more ODs through everyday living than I have on a high that I’m told is not living.
Living is easier through this world of mine, I’ve met the most imaginative people of my life through conversations in a green tin that holds every whisper of what we refer to as the “Shed People’s” dreams, who know of endless tales through more hazed eyes.
I guess I can’t deny that I’m an advocate of something society rejects and that’s why you’ll always reject me.
All because I can’t deny that YOU have views that contradict mine.
What a shame that adult drugs have taken me to better worlds that are much bigger than YOU and I.
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 4:20 AM UTC
long had I been dead when I first saw the beauty in nature just to be told that we threw it all away.
Long was I blind to see those who silently scream without a bed or the lady who looks her best when she’s living off bread.
How were we so blind to the compromise of being open to the exposure. The greed, the need to know basis of what greed could mean - or what it could be.
Did salvation ever mean that we’d still have to fight for the right to humanity? Humanitarian aid after a humanitarian crisis denied their right to live.
And What did the ice ever do to you? You made it melt but it wasn’t in love. There’s a difference between love and abuse.
I know you’re angry - The world is too.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 3:15 PM UTC
My therapist asked me who am I?
And I looked at my mother and
asked her who she wanted me to be;
She said she wanted a son that didn’t
sniff ******* in his dreams.
And she looked at my sister and said
“What does your brother mean?”
And she said;
“All he illuminates is exactly what a
human being shouldn’t be.”
And she looked to his grandmother
and asked;
“What kind of grandson is he?”
And she said;
“The kind that gets lost on the streets.”
And she looked at his grandfather and
asked if he agreed.
He nodded but pleaded that there’s no
way to save someone like me.
And they looked to his current
lover and asked;
“What kind of person is he?”
And she replied;
“The type of person that screams in
his sleep, the kind of person you wish
your daughter wouldn’t meet, the type
of person who’s married to overthinking
and can’t marry me.
He is the definition of deceit and you’ll
often find him by the sea threatening to
jump in because he thinks the fish will
actually care about his dreams.”
And silence filled the room.
And they all asked;
“What kind of person do you think you
could be?”
And the black sheep looked at his
shepard’s and said;
“Whoever you want me to be.”
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 5:36 AM UTC
Oh Hazelwood,
Hazelwood beseech me to
come home for I've become
a lonely soul wondering
alone with a shaven head.
Not my idea, no, not my
own. The man pleaded for
you to never leave him on
his own.
He's disassociated but he's
never believed it with his
backpack dreams and
time in blackhole love.
Met you and he found a
different kind of love..oh
Hazelwood please come home.
Home was sometimes A&E,
seemed to me that you were
getting pretty tired of it.
I could see. We all could.
Too scared to admit it incase
you'd leave us like our sand-
paper carpet meetings where
I felt the friction of your grief.
And bless your brave soul to
be able to live with the many
people I've become. But I dare
you ask! Ask anyone. You're
the only one they'd say they
loved.
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 6:30 PM UTC
Men of sin are the shadows that lurk among the city lights where the signs don’t just tell you about coffee they energise you as they feast on lobe with sidewalk tales of how men have left their manners at home, drowning in pints discussing the grim details of how;
He ****** her twice only but the other night, peering with a grin because little do they know his lust was a story of latex, teeth, claw and a sharpened knife.
Smile did he as she presented herself half alive, half dead - hanging off the edge of the bed, the twisting and weaving of his stomach as he digested pure disgust and bliss all at once.
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 12:14 PM UTC
You told me that you’d stay,
it made me really cry that day,
that day that you left me.
It’s because I think too much,
sometimes I even speak too much,
I can’t say enough times how sorry
I am for losing my oh so delicate mind.
From time to time I often think back
to when the rope was round my neck
and the chair was screaming for me
to jump.
Why were you the only one screaming
for me to get down?
And the screaming,
the screaming just doesn’t stop.
The way you were feeling you wanted
to be on the other end,
I could see it in the eyes that I miss so
greatly for how will I know that it is
summer without her gaze?
When you left we built barricades
I was trying to suppress the demons
- you told me you was looking at one.
You made me question my mind as
I had so often done and I cried like
a baby torn from his mother and
where is mother?
“Dear mother please” I plead, I
plead guilty of all crimes but
insanity is not one for I was just
a boy who screamed for his mum!
So jump ship and drown for all
I care!
That’s a lie, I’m out of touch
with myself living in this
living Hell.
I can’t facilitate the hatred you’ve
made for me!
I will not accept, I will object to this
mockery of the sacrifice I made!
All lost for one now but none where
I dragged myself through pity streets
waiting for your love to come back home.
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 12:57 PM UTC
Beseech me for my war crimes, propaganda walls converse with stage lights and there was an outcry!
There was an outcry of hysteria, a deep sense of psychotic texture in the lucid air, false prophets constructed for deconstruction.
Contained genocide vacated the negative effects of emotional mind parley when the selfish sacrifices were made - the only question the gods had raised was the worth of the bodies and that nothing remained...
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 7:17 PM UTC
I’ll build you a dam,
then I’ll take you by sea so
we can escape the taunting
memories of shadowy streets
and nuclear physics arguments
over our lack of chemistry.
But now the water no longer
brushes my feet I can't help
feel that;
I hope I meet my demise soon
enough that Capaldi can play
at my funeral telling me
'don’t fade away' and I
want to see you cry,
mirroring you as the tears
fail to cling to your eyes.
For if this is purgatory
then let the maggots eat
me alive.
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 6:01 PM UTC