Head spinning
Ears ringing
Skin tingling
You sleeping
Me existing

Another stolen night
Another hotel room fight
Another hotel room ****
Another run of bad luck
Another bottle of scotch

I watch your torso fall and rise
Remembering the lust in your eyes
Listening whilst you told me lies
You “Love me” what a clichéd surprise
Yet, still I cannot say to you “goodbye”.

How nice it would be
to walk into the sea
warm waters lapping my knees.
To go further into the surf
the warm sea of this earth
deeper still, until submerged
down deep until purged,
with the drowned of this world
floating and bloating in purgatory.

"Are you lost?" Said no one to the ******* the bus.
"Are you cold?" Said no one to the figure huddled in the doorway.
"Are you hungry?" Said no one to the hollow eyed man.
"Are you scared?" Said no one to the child with the bruised face.
"Are you safe?" Said no one to the family in a squalid room.

"Please send a donation to the human race. We've lost our humanity"

Hush, and feel the flush
and crush upon your body
as the air is expelled in
a gushing, rushing torrid of
****** memories.
Damning you to want more,
you want to thrash at the bedclothes
needing to find that release once more.
Yet you lay there spent in the morning's
hush, laid upon the chest of the one that
has made your heart sing, ears ring and
left you corrupted at the core.
The rise and fall of in sync breathing
is the only sound in the room
hush, hush, hush.

I left this morning without a backward glance.
I boarded the train without a moments hesitation.
I started work, continued my day without a secondary thought.
I operated on autopilot, smiled, laughed and bantered accordingly.
I thought of nothing much outside of work.
I like that I'm lost in a crowd.
I waited for the clock to hit five, then left.
I cut a lonely non-descript character.
I like that I'm not seen.
I like that I'm not noticed.
I like that I'm not thought of.
I like that one day someone will say:
"I never knew".

A heavy sigh escapes my lips
I need your seed to feed my need
Your taste still lingers on my lips
Your hands still feel moulded to my hips
Your absence has made the bed go cold.
Our heat has dissipated between the sheets
My greed for you makes me want
Your absence wants me to hasten your return.
I cannot call you, but I need you now.
Only you can help me regain feeling where
numbness resides, to feel the pressure of you
on me, in me. But you are not mine, I am not yours
We are both wanton ******.
I concede my place to second, no gold band upon
my hand, my conscience makes me short of breath
Indulgent, wanton, sumptuous gratification,
if thats all we are together, then fine, I accept.
But, I need you now, and always.

I'm invisible, forgotten, a memory in someone's head
I want to be remembered, lauded, loved
But you put paid to that.
I wonder how you sleep, dreamless, more likely
How do you sleep like an innocent? Teach me.

If I shouted would you hear me?
If I hurt you would you feel me?
If I threw a glass at you would you see me?
If I blew softly in your face would you get cold?
If I kissed you deeply would you ******* rotting corpse?

Slide to unlock you command
I do so with a sleight of hand
Enter passcode you demand
I press four digits, and up pops your brand.

I check my apps, play some games,
Update, mail, and Facebook old names
Shuffle my music, delete and reply
All the while asking myself "why?"

I'm a consumer gone mad.
The world turns and I'm sad
People die every day, in such horrific ways,
Yet I slide and unlock, and do as commanded.

After all I'm a human re-branded.

Hate not blood course through my veins
I want to laugh in your face, when you feel the pain
My fury is my story not yours to tell
Mine to yell, demonstrate, remonstrate
Wrath, in its purest form, presents with self-destructiveness, violence, and hate that provokes feuds that go on for centuries.
Wrath persists long after the person who did another a grievous wrong is dead. But, wrath is mine to feel, to touch, to taste.
Feelings of anger impatience, revenge, and lividity.
Wrath is allowing my revenge, call it self-destructive, call it
bad behaviour, my sin of wrath is directed internally toward me.
Suicide, deemed as the ultimate, albeit tragic, expression of hatred directed inwardly, a final rejection of God's gifts.
But,you made me angry so it's you I reject.
When cold tempered steel,
meets hot vengeful blood

I have an itch.
It needs soothing.
I can't scratch it, I won't stop.
I'll scratch until the crimson petals appear.
Watch the vermillion bloom against the white.
Then pick and scratch some more.
Feel relief as I watch the red run in rivulets down into a deep pool.
Hitching myself to an already aching itch was a mistake.
A mistake and itch scratched away with a meat fork*.

Pretentious
Meaningless
Semantic
Gibberish
Jargonised
Words
One
D­oes
Not
Understand.

I am afraid
I am alone
I am unknown
I am labelled

Labelled 'Damaged'
Did I damage myself?
No, fate did that
Can I atone?

Atone? For what?
A disease that differs for one and all.
I know what I am, but choose not to
take the moniker, 'sufferer'.

Yes, I hurt, I tire, I cry, but
I cannot explain, and you,
you cannot empathise, you
don't have MS, the broken smile.

I look whole, but I'm a jigsaw
with a missing piece. That piece is
peace. Peace of mind, peace for my
loved ones, peace for me.

I know I'm a person, I know I have MS
I know I'm loved, I know I'm a *****
I know I'm part of a family, daughter, sister,
aunt, niece, cousin and most importantly Wife.

I will be whatever the fates decide.
I will not be a sufferer.
I will not give up.
I will be loved.

I thought I'd pen a jolly rhyme
But, then I ran out of time.
Then I thought I'd be sublime
But, then I went all pantomime.
Then I thought I'd commit a crime
But, got put off by the splatter and slime.
Then I thought its supper time
And drank a bottle of turpentine.
Didn't I say I ran out of time, for a jolly rhyme?

I stare at the kettle, I've forgotten to flip the switch on
A teabag lies in the bottom of a cup
I look at the clock and wonder where the time has gone.
I'm in the kitchen, there's something wrong.
I see the sink, the fridge, the oven too
Stop, please, let me think.
I turn back to the cup and it hits me,
There should be two.

Every colour has a melody
Every song has a hue
Every kiss has a story
Every scar is true

A soldiers strength
A lovers tenderness
A mothers love
All warriors true

All endings had beginnings
All beginnings will end
All starters will finish
All rainbows will bend

Every love will taste hate
Every hate will love taint
Every tear will see a smile
Every smile will feel great

Every colour has a melody
Every stranger is a reminder
That you paint your own pictures
And kiss them with colour.

"Trick or Treat"
Clamorous voices demand at the door.
A cry that you've heard so many times before.
You open the door face plastered with a grin.
Wishing you could cull this rabble and stop
their screeching babble.
Sweets doled out,  "be safe" you shout at their backs,
after all you wouldn't want to be hacked by a ******!

Knock-Knock**
Its sound echoes all around.
You hate these midgets at your door
looking cute and asking "give us more"
You'd love to keep the door closed,
but well then you're known as the weird house.
So adjusting face and keeping pace you open the door,
only to be heard of no more.

Wise scarecrow with
Awareness both harrowing and
fallowing, wisdom and knowledge.

Straw in glove you stand in a field
straw man, scarer, protecter of the
unseen world, and fields.

Kuebiko (崩え彦 "disabled prince")
you have no legs to roam,stood out in the wet and cold.
You and I Mr scarecrow are alike, no working legs.

Afflicted ******,our minds still know
Impaired we are a pair of straw myths
Because he stands all day outdoors, he knows everything
Because I sit all day indoors, I know time.

I fall in love and cry
Cry for those who can’t

In my life I've dealt with grief.
Deaths of family, friendships and innocence.
Still I'd hoped that life and time would make up,
become friends and chime a tolling bell of peace.
Thought ruins dreams.
There is inside us a black so dark we become a void.
Why try searching for the light?
The light has gone aground.
Mankind has ***** this fruitful earth,
despoiled its beauty and its worth.
Money means more than humanity.
Desecration of this fair planet and its inhabitants
justified by the men in suits.
News is just a propaganda tool,
it makes a mockery and a fool of us.
We line up for bargains, forgetting the unfed
We lie to ourselves that good still exists.
Where? When even religion becomes contentious.
Guns, bombs, hate, greed, ****** of the innocents,
who among us opened the seventh seal?
The Seventh Seal was it opened by blood mixed with oil on the altar of greed?
If so, it wasn't done in my name.

The wine glasses stand sentinel,
to last night.
Candles burnt out,
wax cold pooled
on the dining table.
Remnants of the supper
testament to our hunger and
for each other, as lovers.
The house is cold now
like my anger.
Last night,
You told me we were over
You'd fallen for another
younger lover.
Last night my anger was red like the wine
in the sentinel glasses.
Now cold, daylight brings a clarity,
time to start the cleaning.
I'll sweep the table's items into the bin.
I'll keep nothing touched by him.
I'll then take a bath to recover and figure out
what to do with you.
You can't lie on the floor forever.

You came in late, again
I said hello, pecked your cheek
and waited for the flow of excuses.
None came.
You went and poured a drink
I sat awaiting your words.
You came back in, sat heavily down
and looked at the floor.
I felt rage inside my breast,I had news to tell.
You never asked how I was, or how my day went.
I sat quietly waiting, listening to the ice ***** the glass,
I felt as vulnerable as that ice cube, once solid now melting,
waiting, fuming, controlling my anger.
You looked up, you looked at me, no through me, and said
"I'm late because I've been having an affair"
Did a freight train just hit me? I felt despair, but you said more,
"She's pregnant, and is keeping the child"
Clarity liberated me from my stupor, late nights,
meetings, high mileage on the car.
I asked a question,
"Are you leaving me?"
You dropped your head, and said the words most wives dread
"Yes, I have to be a father, do the right thing, I love you but....."
Your words trailed off.
I stood up, took your glass and refilled it for you.
My turn.
"Did you start coming home late because of her? Or because I've gained weight? Or both those reasons?"
Silence.
"Pack your bags, leave the keys, get a hotel bed"
Those words came out so clear, you'd swear I'd knifed you.
                                               ~
At the front door, you turned, about to say something, I cut you off
"Send me your new address, I need it for the solicitor,
I'm divorcing you. And by the way, before I forget, you're not the only
one that's been late, it would seem you know how to propagate"
I shut the door, rubbed my tummy, and waited to be called mummy.

How am I still holding on?
Wasting my time
When I know you've gone

I still drift back to younger days
I wasted my time over you
I tried to understand, I failed

You stayed with me up until I realised,
you were gone.
You were never mine.

I saw you the other day
I was sat in a café people watching
I saw you, I watched you.

I ached for you, for me, for the past
For regrets, missed opportunities, failed declarations
Realisation that together we were friends, almost more.

In a crowd we were separate beings
Societal dictats stood in place, never to be questioned.
I watched you in the crowd from the café

Watched you looking my way
Steam from my latte bringing a haze to my eyes
Oh how many nights I cried for you.

Wanting you, needing you,
hurting inside for you, denying others "just in case"
You denied me then I deny you now.

Stay in the locked box deep in my soul
Memories in a woman's heart
can never be stolen or forgotten.

I left the café with an ache
Turned the corner, felt your stare
Then, saw my husband standing there.

To him I moved my wheelchair forward
To him I kissed my ache away
To him I will always stay

I turned for a final glance
Looked at you standing in the drizzle
You stared not at me, but the chair.

Realisation shone on your face
Confusion clouded those eyes
I am her, but not now.

Your height, your hair, your brown eyed stare
You're all that I remembered and more.
21 years have spun away, as did I that day.

You lay by me on the cold shale,
I hear your breath soft and deep
I know that you are not asleep
anymore than I am.
We came here for the peace
We came here for the obscurity
We came here for you to lie me down in a lay-by
For you to lie and watch me die.

Tonight you left me breathless
You grabbed me by my hair stared,
then kissed me deeply.
You tethered our lips and my soul followed.

As we interlaced our bodies,
I wondered where you'd gone.
My husband, so gentle and caring,
had taken me by surprise.

Your eyes normally closed for a kiss,
blazed and made me crave more.
You broke away from our pleasure
Leaving me altogether undone.

Who was this man? I'd seen you daily
yet here before me was a new being.
I felt a slave to your passion
British men don't kiss like that!!

Night heat, sweat, and alcohol
lifted the veil of lace from my eyes
you, were now my possessor
I your possessed.

Turning forty had made you an aggressor
And, we the transgressors of the night
Breathlessly I managed to stutter
"You don't kiss like this"

As I shuddered you replied
"Yes, I ******* do "
And continued with your displays.
My body, the storyteller of our pleasure.

Snow fell today and cleansed the ground, in a shroud of white.
As quickly as the snow came it disappeared.
As quickly as the ground was made clean
it was dirtied by the living.
Dirt, fumes and car tracks sullied the linen white earth.
Nothing stayed today,
not the snow,
not the footprints,
not the cold wind blown faces of children.
Nothing good can stay.
But, for an hour the ground and day became pristine.
A cold, weak sun shone on the glittering snow
Like the first winter snowdrops promising a spring,
weak  winter sun promised better days.
Snowdrops the striking bloom of the winter months,
lifted up their delicate heads in a blanket of blue white drops.
So, snow fell like spilt milk, and snow melted away.
But, the snowdrops ‘milk flower of the snow’ stayed.

Alive and kicking, above ground.
At the last gasp, *release

Unread
Unsaid
Undone
Unsung
Understand
Undo
Unlike
Unloved
Unafraid
Unattached
Unavailable
­Unceasing
Uncanny
Unclean
Unzipped
Unusual
Unprint­able

I lie with the cool moist breeze caressing my skin.
The mossy grass as soft as a feather mattress at my back.
I hear the birds up high in the canopy of leaves.
The sounds of the glade, from the squirrels scurrying to the foxes prowling assail my ears.
Peace pervades this forest, life carries on unhindered, from the ants to the worms, time and existence carry on full circle.
I'm part of that circle of forest life
ever since you took mine with your knife.
Leaving me lying staring up at the sky.
I see you returning every now and then,
do you see and hear and feel what I do?
Or do you just see the rotting me,
lying as still as a mannequin?
My murderer know this, I have been a feast to the beasts,
and I live on in them.
Soon, you'll not come back again, but I will always be with you.
And so will the insects, flies and life that bred from me in this glen.

Your life is a lyric, less a song
A painting with no canvas
Waiting for the words and tune to come
The muse to inspire flashes of colour
To inspire music and scene.

But, to be seen by the muse you have to command
Inspire, craft, graft, and create
She does not wait idly by, she needs to see your life
Your song, she in turn needs to be inspired.....by you.
Nothing is free in this world, even inspiration has a price.

Within myself I know there's two.
Of who? Of me.
I watch while one takes hold.
One is meek, one is bold.
One is sweet, one is selfish.
One is kind, one is evil.
Which one I am on any given day,
depends in part, on which one I've fed,
and what diet I've served it.
Was it vitriol or humility?
Was it hate or love?
Was it just or unjust?
Was it sweet or sour?
I'll not know until the hour one of two is called.

I was shocked when I heard the key lock.
My heart dropped,
I was left to rot.
Forgot, mocked, and blocked from outside.
No where to run, no one to turn to.
The key had turned, my fate was sealed.
Robbed of life yet still alive,
pleading silently, "please let me out"
Would they treat my plea with dignity?
I couldn't shout, would they hear me?
Not above the hiss of the respirator, of that I have no doubt.

Eyes closed.
Darkness envelopes my mind.
Under my eyelids letters dance,
join and create.
Like two lovers seeking through caresses
these letters form and culminate in words.
Sensuous sentences slip into my mind,
like a lover slips under a sheet.
Tumbling together writhing for space,
imagery, sentences and truth spill out.
Caressing my eyes with beauty
these words combine and come to being.
Hot need is found in the words.
Love, addiction, fear and hope.
Like a life borne out of love
poetry is made.

Today I forgot to laugh,
instead I "lol'd"
So, technically I'm a liar.
I neither laughed, nor did so out loud.
It was a platitude
It was polite
It was accepted
It was a lie
It could have been worse, I could've ROFL'd
but that is ridiculous.
So, ***, BTT I lied.
IMHO WFM FWIW B3

I wish I could see the beauty in the world
one, that is clearly dreary, cynical and cold.
This old planet, home to millions of species
and billions of humans, hanging in orbit,
turning, turning, forever turning.
I want to see the romance of the stars,
without knowing they're dead cold and lifeless.
I want to hear music in the crashing waves,
without knowing the seas are rising, and species are dying.
I want to touch the earth and feel its life beating in sync with mine.
I want everyone to taste clean water, hot food and freedom.
But, I know that this show called life is full of spite,
there's no *** of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Just a huge arch of colours in the sky caused by water droplets.
There's no lollipop or band aid big enough for this broken earth's pain.
Lollipops and rainbows only equal tornadoes, and rain.

My hunger for you never wanes
your, smell, touch, look send me aflame
my lips bruised after being crushed by yours
my thirst quenched by drinking you in,
my need as robust as your thrusts,
my cravings, like a ****** in need of a fix.
Immersed in you, luxuriating in you,
knowing you, has starved and saved
my soul.
Amongst the smell of lust and lechery
Dante watches, he watches my soul.
Purgatorio, penitent I walk within flames to purge myself of lustful thoughts and feelings.
Dante's Inferno. Souls of the sin of lust are blown about in restless hurricane winds, I feel the wind at my back. Howling.
A symbol of my own lack of self-control to my lustful passions
in this my earthly life.
Just be with me when we are judged, together we can prove our
Love

Death
is
the
home
of
maggots.
I
am
its
carrion.