One cold breeze flitters by,
Awake, a shiver rolls down.
Seeping through the ground,
Coated in many aspirers lie.

Abrupt to awaken an eye,
Gazing the half clearer image.
Soon greeted in holy light,
Fixated, gasp a lonelier sigh.

A shadow sweeps by up high,
Quickly to restore the blind.
Bones barely intact inside,
Reaching up seeking a sign.

A shrivelled tongue I do try,
Forcing out the air for words.
Eyes swelled, an anxious look,
Patience left to care the tide.

The blue air reflecting from the water,
Soon I arise to realise where I’d laid.
The minute grains, digging deeper,
Penetrating through my rough skin.

A slight wash for the ends of my toes,
Clearing the dirt further up my feet.
Soon my whole legs were glistening,
Shining like the pearls deep beneath.

With my head levelled I start to recall,
Visions for which I felt most alone.
I search my pocket to reveal a clue,
That night I spent burning in waste.

Shaking in disbelief, falsely accused,
The bluntness of my saviour’s truth.
The sea I think to dispose this guilt,
An addict never deserves his mercy.

Like smoke through a crowded room,
She seeps between the cracks of life.
Dipping, ducking, dodging them all,
Passing freely to the end of the hall.

Squeezing herself around strangers,
Stroking mammary against others.
Her feet planted in front of the bar,
Hand raised to protest, "she's a star!"

Suddenly she clasps onto the edge,
Gripping with weak force to protest.
"Shots" she calls, never gains a reply,
"Shots over here" not a single sigh.

A quick view of the crowd behind her,
In shock of the horror that surronds.
The hideous approaching themselves,
Must she care little for their health.

The lights flickering to her heart beat,
Like thrillers which build with tempo.
Gasping, what lies created this hole,
Leaving her stripped of all she knows.

The hands swinging by with haste,
She stares out pleading for attention.
Nothing but blank gazes of her body,
Searching for a better man to serve.

Like a rabid child foaming at the mouth,
Lips tightly surpressed within the news.
Reckless, careless to an innocents mind,
Pursade them to leap off with you.

Pushing past all ideas and logical sense,
Rush! Rush! banging through the drums.
Panic with no lie, settle into your home,
Any way to wake the endless nights?

Sadly are the nights spoken kindly,
Contrived without the slightest care.
Wishing truly for our life's simplicity,
Patience of a steady water flows.

Under the oak, sat in the sun aligned,
Cooling off from the setting breeze.
Legs weary from the climb upon hills,
Wondrous days lay in far distances.

Like a rabid child foaming at the mouth,
Lips loosely locked within the news.
Reckless, careless to an innocents mind,
Deceive them to leap off with you.

Doubts of intention,
Lies of invention,
Words of destruction,
Pain, loss, devotion.

Minds of illusion,
Names of instruction,
Fists of destruction,
Born, live, cremation.

Hard times await, scuttle past your old home,
Burning right down, left to an unknown.
Bruises covered by shirts strung to your body,
Casting away a pleasant man’s nurturing.

The clock falls from the mantel,
Children, run, play in your disbelief,
Broken empathy for one’s little grief.

Words that are harder to say,
Much longer to pray,
A courtesy banished in society,
Slipping past nature’s intent.
Put the blame on somebody else,
Manners fall as simple as hello.

A slave to his own country, he walks by,
Abandoned and so alone but he keeps a smile,
The sun shines on the brighter man,
Blackening those who became gratified.

The hands are filled, one doors shuts,
The hero’s hanging up his cloak,
Letting someone less smart apply.

Words that are harder to say,
Much longer to pray,
A courtesy banished in society,
Slipping past nature’s intent.
Put the blame on somebody else,
Manners fall as simple as hello.

The clock falls from the mantel,
Children, run, play in your disbelief,
Broken empathy cradles your grief.

My summer sweats bloom from a grass rag,
Scratch another hardly blasting out a calibrate,
Can I break, strap out hacker doozy bluemoors,
Caught from an out sound, an out frowned
Blackening the coffin sweet cough lubricate,
Shackle high tops on pipe dream loft shakers,
Clover feelers, four hitter on lucky seven collar,
Depth sin protector, **** I ain't wrath looter,
Nor do poppa sizes on some puke lips locker,
Key switch for gates hellish donor, back loner,
Course you see, I seek seep suckled *****,
Not some subtle soul (gap in skirt) poker,
Forever reaching lines, bust knuckle lifters,
Cracked rage like Nile is flooding wealths curlers,
Jewel duplicate for ruby cuts on roofless lust,
Symbolise another and I'll grabble force an honour,
Sober up soppy crotch rummage coper,
Scan cell prison ament Scholar's "repent!"
Mace battle X axel swop blunt round passel,
Cost more on pepper rubber rock relation,
Patient prep operation, cramp dilation,
Dial engage **** sudden blocked injection.
Cast nocturnals ominous above monuments,
Men fall like weak's race for joy's division,
Attend pro's vision, pure as skies probations,
Pack pampers protection tracks premonition,
Flat lines before lap times, clenching half rhymes,
Hop hotter than blues croft in dusks knots,

"Happy Birthday dear..."

I start half way through the bent jingle which became more
Common by chanting all the words. That awkward sense
Of mutual buddies forgetting the name of the cocky boy
Blowing out the wax that burns through the mixture raw.
Faces envious of this attention seeker, while sat on a fence
Forcing that smile. The age he can be excused by his toy.

As one turns arrogant adolescent, the other takes childish
Place on the cute thrown. Not today, the world can wait,
But not for long as time shifts further down many graves.
The countdown begins when leaves grow onto the mildest
Weather that will warm the old cold hearts at such a rate.
Not all fret, soon more birthdays will join while kids crave.

The teen’s decision isn't fate or destiny, it's just how they
Live a life purely between lines of crack. To be so rotten
Is a crime in any mature life. Thank God they are care free.
How soon will they learn to care for the gift that they pray
And how it differs from the cracks that will be forgotten.
Shame for us not to embrace time. Each one pushed into

The ground swept away by the blink of old men's eyes.
Devastation rid across lands by generations over turned.
Look out your window; see the sky break, fall into hot ash,
Burning pretty skin which brought tragedy to all those fines.
In the bowls of hell the scent grew strong. Women yearned,
They felt so careful not casting felony by using other cash,

Knowing full well that it was their fault for this mad panic.
Think how the boy's maternal role must be copying with all
The accidents around her. Fingers pouring out all the blood
Of a false economy, channelling some wizards dying magic.
The virus spreading across all borders with no place to fall.
The conspiracies becoming ridiculous, dragged thru mud.

"Judgement Day draws nearer, who will blame the ******"

Starless nights, and endless fright,
My eyes stiched as I avoid you.

Heartless fool, no care or rules,
Just a candle light for comfort.

Weary days, life's little pay,
To carry a burden of pain.

A cruel lie, to let me die,
To wither without a reason.

Restless fear, I call you dear,
Return home where you belong.

Remembrance of a bad memory is
The only memory he will remember.
His mind is always racing over all of
These atrocities, not one pleasing,
His cause is fault by familiar faces.

Trying to steal his touch from
Old and dusty photographs,
Four stone walls trap suffocated
Screams of a doted past,
Flash of silver and red, a mélange
Of animalistic fervour and love.

The chalk will wear thin some day,
Soon he'll lose track of pure reality,
Forgetting is obliged but is it a cure?
The gruel splattering on the plates,
Dimmer becomes his pure identity.

Eyes scrunch, blood-red shadow,
Not enough to hide a past
Which is screaming obscenities
Within him, even Houdini would
Struggle to free himself from these
Self inflicted knots.

Lying on stone bed, comfort from
Dropping so high to places so low.
The boots that kicked his child’s soul,
Battered tidily into empty cars boot.
His son's wounds left torturing mind.

The appropriate father
Lying dead under his thinning
Crown, a forest of follicles
Giving way to exasperation,
Remorse and a manic lust for
Changing history.

Cleansing red drips from his palm,
Constant stains conspiring in mind.
The pre maternal shatters fear in tear,
No love left to bail the blood thirst.
Maybe if he could love lucks lie, then
He may glimpse a cooler freedom.

Hath he not heard the plea
Of kin, fragility wavering
In the shadow of a beast,
Tis' he who peeled back his
Own flesh to see nothing but
Blood and yesterday's regret.

The bliss of fine white hairs fall top,
Blisters burning from the foul cycle.
Flickers of mellow memories save a
Soul to reconsider his own judgment.
But time was arch from the first stab
Into the child, mercy rejects his grief.

Former clown's face steals
Sorrow from his slashed canvas,
And ***** stained swinging shadow
Cannot trip the hollow child with
Black eyes, who is forever whispering
Into his ear, “Why, Daddy?”

Supply my honesty, tower over me;
Pour the steam right over my
Cunning face. See how the night slips
Round full throttle. Call the bluffs, no
Jokers booked for tonight’s showing,
Sorry sweetheart.  Just one night I'll
Spend, one hour to fend, can't you
See me working dear?

Trembling, my bones drenched in the
Aches of longer nights spent away.
Dial, I can't be engaged! The phone
Hooks round the ankles and necks of
Any acquaintance fond as I am.
The dinner parties, social gathers I
Point at for the waste and
Bitterness of each cheerless soul.

The specs and freckles of each cute
Lady, fluent as could be, could drown
A man in intellect unknown to all.
Nothing is meant for me, all praise
Directs to your faithful empathy, to the
Mirrors planted in each fair ground.
Once and forever to treat all my
Wounds, dearly you burn in peace.
To disturb so little, how foolish to
Erupt any trivial fool’s tonight.

That one breath I try grasping,
Saving a fist full for later in the night.
You never approved, time I moved on
To my old styles which kept any air
Fresher than the one we share. So
Keep your innocence in the purse, let
The old clerks browse their own
Selection. I'll care little for all, once I
Marry my *****!

I must start with repeating my hatred for those who shackle any intention of caring in any slight manner of common acknowledgment, thinking that one could be so generous towards another’s opinion, without looking shameful. Let them be posed as the liars that they really are. It comes clearer to me each day that life commits no care in the situations of likeable nonsense of some deluded fool who could drink sorrowfully and says it’s all part of his humanity. Wrapping myself in the stench of others, stupid but yet helplessly loveable in there false approaches to what we merely see as a way of keeping our sanity just to be awoken the next day, unattached to one ounce of another’s sense of care for commodity. Even to my own surprise this cyclical motion never retracts and it leaves me only in a state of unwanted hysteria. Life as its little lie, preparing for the next false boy to creep his way back into my frontal mind of reasoning. Hypocrisy is an awful crime to any who share decency as essential, but yet this word rings through my mind like the troubled souls who let down such communal feeling in our lives, clinging together, waiting for the sudden break of those who try to pursue in beauty, poise and unbearable jealousy.

Melodically I find it hard to grasp any sense of one so particular to throw themselves to others with less care (in general terms), making themselves out as a symbolism of a characterised revelation. “See me and this is where we go”. An idea I have completely no trust at all with. Generously society take these images of people so brave, they can station themselves in others lifestyles so much, they become the dominance of something which could cause the most decent man to turn into the hideous monster that would cause an uproar in what society could only describe as a “justified sell out”. Piercing through days and hours just to make themselves feel accomplished in a situation where their choices become the only action which serves in this fuel fired outrage for a postmodern style of friendship.