Roaring with colours
Wonderful and bright
Filled with the people
Who bring me such light

Dyed with their colours
All the reds and the blues
Staining my heart
Creating a wonderful work of art

A little bit of each person
Some a little more
Mixing new tones everyday
As each day its like an all out war

The colors they contrast
Making me who I am
Though some overpower me
Destroying parts of who I am

Though in the end I'm still me
Influence and painted by the people
Even if some parts are grey, dark and black
The rest is beautiful filled with the light of my history

From the colors of the rainbow and everything unseen
A walking masterpiece of colors
Drenched with dripping paint
Leaving my own mark on many others

Adding my own touch to who they are

Upon approach, with facts and all,
You've brought with you a righteous haul,
In step, a dance of victory,
To spite the guilds of history

"A crucifix is ****** to fail,
If Honor's face is blue and pale",
You lie to string the vengeful gale of providence,
Along your trail

Behind your foot, a lagging force of gravity,
As if a horse, compels itself to gallivant in misery,
When no reproach is cast on he,
Who shields himself from revelry

Strike your fields with rusted scythe,
Convinced, your crops now take their life,
In what seems as though a winter fair,
Alas, your fruit is torn and bare,
Again...

We live in a straight world.
You might not think it’s true,
“Gays are coming out everyday
could be them next or her,
maybe you too”
Well I’ll take a minute to prove it to you.

If I told you I’m into girls
I’d see your brain short circuit in real time,
“But you don’t look gay” you’d say.
“Straight passing” is what they call
a girl like me, who still looks feminine
but doesn’t want the D.

This “luxury” of remaining in the closet
is really hurting my game,
Added another straight boy
to my list of those who lost it
when they heard me exclaim,
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m gay”

Let’s not forget the most important issue
“Gays will ruin the sanctity of marriage”
Here, I’ll hand you the tissues.
Man and woman, hand in hand, till death do they part,
and yet more than half of all marriages
end in the perfected art of divorce.

Far be it from me,
to take anyone’s right
to do and say what they want,
while you embrace the hate
and live fighting the inevitable reality
of any queer couple tying the knot.

It might be 2018,
but I still can’t hold a potential partner’s hand
in a public facility
without getting disgusted leers
and a dreadful look at multiple cases
of unprovoked hostility.

So, try to look me in the eyes,
And tell me I’m not right.
But despite it all
I’ll keep my head up high
And let that rainbow flag fly
Because this might be a straight world,

But love is love

is love

is love.



And that concludes this winded verse.

trainspotting in st mary  magdalene church 02.09.18

welcome to poetry that's dark
many will have a trip down memory lane
shooting up goes on in every park
even near church st mary magdalene.
look at the spoil
wide spread makes it mega
has everyone got hooked on danny boyle
or maybe the stud ewan mcgregor.
the park has a tremor
infarct its making society ill er
is that going in ewen bremner
with side kick johny lee miller.
having a fix and leaving a skid
really is vile
5 mins and leaving kevin mckidd
not touching any syringe is wise robert carlyle.
no longer looking for a tester
urban poverty and squalor comes naturally
edinbough needs no investor
they are filthy rich culturally.
best film in 2004 ever
is the resemblance knotting
****** trade is very clever
ahead of its time was trainspotting.

The ash and brimstone might have tasted sweet
Amid the harsher fragrances of hope
That bloom like lilies, lucent on faint slopes,
And root themselves in sinless psyches deep.
I heard those vile unchaste murmurs slide
In through the gate, where purer flowers hung,
Enwrought with ancient banes in ancient tongues:
The doors to Hell remain secured with pride.
      As Parthenos in Athens she was known,
      So oathless Devil shall in Hades reign.
      Beyond the depths that man can fathom rests
      The starkest palace, laid with mica stone;
      Yet in his kingdom lies a fertile plain,
      And in its soil faith may effloresce.

I will stay awake this night
For the dark will not take me captive
I will not be a prisoner to the setting sun
I will be no part in the daylight's declination
For my demons have no plans for me
I will set my soul on fire
And they may come all they want
Again, I will take a stand to split up my mind
And decide what must die and where to fight

you say you’re not a poet but
with a girl like that,
how could you speak
anything less than
the stars?
-a.c.b