Mr Shankley

Mr Shankley Apr 2021

If you want the swans
To get a bit promiscuous
Soak your bread wine
Before you throw in the river
So they realise HE
Died for their sins too
Or at least wine and ***
Tastes better than virtue

Mr Shankley Feb 2021

Something About Venus

Her Dad rolls cones, her Mam racks lines,
Her home is built from lie on lie,
She lies her bones on the bed thinking why,
That boy took a rope to the neck and died,
She held him high in her arms;
Higher in her mind.

He looked at her with reluctant love,
Reluctant enough she’d think nothing of,
His seductive eyes; the boy was shy,
He tucked his pride deep inside his sighs,
Until she held him in her arms;
Held him high in her mind.

The river cries;
Walk beside it.
Untie the love locks,
From the bridge that flies it,
And if they sink,
And Venus floats,
It’ll wash up at your feet,
If you walk far enough.

And now she sees it for the first time,
Beautiful Venus undisguised,
Looks that shook the butterflies,
Inside the veins she cut with knives.
When she remembers she held him,
Not just in her mind.

Mr Shankley Jan 2021

Siberian Fur

I’m the master of darkness
You can’t seem to find,
I’m the recluse in the light;
Too divine,
In the bedroom waiting tight,
Inspired on the balcony
With the rhythm alive,
She seems to curse me
With every sound she makes,
And disagrees
With every breath I take,
Another love on a starlit night;
Wine is blood,
Heart is spite.

By Peter Wolfe (wolfman)

Mr Shankley Aug 2020

When the war comes

Our teeth are black, their teeth are white
We praise the day, they praise the night
We know the way of right and wrong
Their tribe is weak, our tribe is strong
We can't be abel until they feel pain
So lets break their bones with a blood soaked cain
Hide their name where no one knows
Under sea or soil or the holy ghost

And when the war comes
We'll take their lives
Take their home
Take their wives
Take their children as slaves
And no one gave a **** about the world
That they created

The man next door has a real nice car
And he walks and he talks from a land afar
His garden shrines are of a different kind
Whatever they are, they're not divine
And if i turned the other cheek he'd spit on it
And if he got the chance he'd be sleeping with
Our wives and daughters
I think its time we taught him
That this place is no place
For a stranger

And when the war comes
We'll take their lives
Take their home
Take their wives
Take their children as slaves
And no one gave a **** about the world
That they created

Mr Shankley Apr 2020

The Bottom of the Pit

At the bottom of the pit
runs a river of spit,
In the subway, rough play
pays out a quid,
Sally's getting pally
with a scally in the ally,
And there's no time to dally
if she wants another hit,

Because it hits the place
that's away from here,
Where the kids don't die,
and the kids aren't feared,
Where poets and dreamers
escape fate sealers,
And the doctors and dealers
are not one and the same.

But when love is laced with
intoxication,
You find no shame
scraping up the pavement,
Twitch the fiction from your lips
when they ask about your kids,
Let them think that your a victim
when your asking for a payment,

Because it hits the place
that's away from here,
Where the kids don't die,
and the kids aren't feared,
Where poets and dreamers
escape fate sealers,
And the doctors and dealers
are not one and the same.

Mr Shankley Mar 2020

Ripping the furs off Venus

Severin speaks in silence
of ****, abuse and violence,
He plays the fool masked tyrant,
when the chance arises.

Conscience keeps him prison,
cataclysm, anarchism,
were thoughts he wasn't missing,
when the chance arisen.

#venusinfurs