Help me stabilize
Intoxicated roads
Slurred sentences
Sipping away drifting apart

We exist in rain coated streets
Red and blue blaring
The sirens that simply take
There's no comfort in these sheets

A drink to think
A smoke to cope
A lie to hide
A note and rope

A lukewarm December
But my soul grows colder
Scraping my skin, ice, dirt off my shoulder
Chilling my spine
You body bleeds cherry wine

Dreams of a white haired horse
Summer night, quiet
Swinging chairs on the wooden porch

Is it better to be left alone
Time for your mind to freely roam
Or feel like no one is listening
You drown in explanations
You sink under

Staying awake is as hard as falling asleep
Followed by demons
Followed by voices
The sounds they creep into my skull
My thought out thoughts are boring and dull

I fade out in my words
Clinging to each word you haven't heard

....

*This poem will fade out as well
I realized I'm a sad contradiction
If you read this far.... I'm sorry

The ball is about to begin
Get your fancy coats
And your elegant gowns
Get your monocle
Get in gear
All the important people
Will be here
No winos
Or other disreputable folk
Will be allowed
So please come one
So please come all
To
The very very important ball
You will not
Be murdered and robbed.

to wound me with an arrow
take a lurid one
you're high on the barrow
watching how scare I run

burst out of usual shadows
like one-eyed albino ghoul
only to see changing weather
by unintelligible rules

sick of Gulliver's syndrome
from living in a wooden box
where's my abandoned kingdom
I'm fed up with these rocks

so try to aim, warden
I'm not that beast of burden

Walking through the city centre
the sun has almost set.
There’s a sharp chill in the air.
Birds screaming “socialite!”
Shouting coarse through their tiny
delicate throats.
Marking the end
of the day.
There’s nothing they can do.
Marking the start
of winter.
There’s nothing they can do.
Misplaced and nostalgic in crispy air.
I heard summers ghost in their cries.
I felt Autumn **** up against the **** of winter.
Still present.
Her body intertwined
in a dying pile of leaves.
She looked better in golden light.
But perhaps she feels more comfortable
wrapped
in the fraying grey coat he has to offer.

kicking lonely through the autumn leaves
you wondering how life came to this.

but we're all still here,
like everything you miss:

the moment, the moon, the mirthful child's bliss.

staring like strangers who swear they knew,  
sitting on benches while shadows grew,
rising up towards the night's debut,
moving like moths near the light of you.

On the train
Again
Strangers all around
Big and little
Hurted heads
Nothing said
Credit to
The kindest mother
Ever seen
'Tween
Now and then
Somehow seems
So long a time
Between my rhymes

Soon I'll be
Home again
Off the train
Let it blow
Let it rain
The cold will
Stay outside
And inside I will hide

Sean Hunt  
Between Scotland and Windermere
2015 English Winter

I am a torso,
With the heart exposed.
Given a single morsel,
That shrieks and floats.

"This place is dark, "
Says my flying eye.
"Did My head go to the park? "
Responded I.

The woodgrain tables,
Coated in dust.
Homestead cables,
Plagued in rust.

The ghosts are sick,
And cannot move.
The air is thick,
Within each room.

No one lived here for years,
No windows in it's place.
The home sat empty with fear,
As apparitions pace.

Screams echo through the night,
As the front sorry creaks.
The brave cry with fright,
As the walls speak.

The boards rot away,
The clocks all stopped.
The curtains away,
Occasionally a head pops.

I roll into my place of death,
In hopes yo find my skull.
I got myself into this mess,
As I couldn't pay the toll.

Carpet Diem.