Trudy sits sipping cocktails
Watching the passers by.
The girl with the Botox, false eyebrows to match,
The ****** old codger, with his hand on her ******.
They swan right on past
Ignoring the view.
No-one knows why
She's invisible to you.
But she doesn't care, she points one finger in the air,
She'd rather look at the sky.

Rattle along to our own sound
You and I
Unleashing brains
Still wrapped in chains
Avoiding the rain
And smoky grounds
That are
Getting us high.

Cheeseburger exchanged for one pound
He and I
Describing pains
Down country lanes
Avoiding the train
And busy Towns
Who are
Making us cry.

Guitar strings so loud we are drowned
You and I
Cutting veins
No one who gains
Avoiding the sane
And white gowns
They are
Keeping us dry.

Can I love the you in me
Saying things to set ourselves free
Sitting silent
Lonely at times?

Can I hear the sound of your voice
Words we say and don't rehearse
Feeling lonely
Steady at times?

Will we be a prefect two
Sailing off and into the blue
Swimming softly
Under at times?

Will you reach the deep in me
Touching gently what you don't see
Smiling violent
Hiding our crimes?

I like doing the Maths with you
Our one plus one
Adding some
Making three
Our minds free.

I like hearing the voice in you
My one minus none
Needing no-one
Breaking free
We are three.

I like being myself in you
Feeling words come
I am someone
Being ME
Can it be

You understand
My equations
My sensations
My dilations
My inhabitations

Can you
Should you
Would you
Make My X
Equal Y

You gonna try
To be the same
Or play a game
Or just apply
The equation.

Hello there?
Hi to you.
Tell me now -things that you do?
Of course I will - I don't know you!

You have a ruler, a cane, a whip?
Most of the time it's Biff and Chip!
Dress in skirt and blouse so tight?
That's what keeps me up at night!

No-one there?
Goodbye to you!
Why not ask about the things I do?
Of course I won't - it's not true!

You have cash, a car and no snip?
Most of the time you are the drip!
Wear your heart upon your sleeve?
It's what I call I liar - oh please!

In amongst dark clouds
A slice of orange gives you hope
But there a scars there
Deep and red
That fade to yellow
And then they are gone!

Shadows whisper memories
Of urgent conversations
Slowly gliding away
One, two, three speech bubbles
Fading into the unknown
And I'm shouting!

Lines change, directions change
We all change in a world of change
So why does that bird fly
Fearless into the unknown
Into the darkness, a dark cloud
And not worry about the return!

'Can I come up today?' gasped the innocent guy,
'My bus ticket's lost and do you know why?
The way on this road is so steep and uphill
And certain things stop me and give me that thrill'

'Yes, yes, yes, keep on climbing' said  I
'If you make it up here then I will not try
To keep you enclosed in my black, dark den
Let nothing detain you and arrive not past ten'

'Are you tired my dear?  I echoed out loud,
'Take off those shoes and don't be so proud
Rest on my bed and take a little time
My curtains are blowing, my sheets are just fine'

'No, no, no, just resting'  he vowed
'Need to get away from the voice and the crowd
And put my hands on a full pair of *******
So I'm staggering up here to forget all the rest'

'Dearest friend, now what shall I do?'
I have you here and the bus ticket too!
A party parcel, a knife and a slice
Cut it in pieces and it feels quite nice.

Miss
You
Are the one I needed to see to
Today because I have to
Say
Goodbye
But hopefully not forever.
When I came here I was below in
English
Confidence
Self-esteem and there was no way
I could imagine I would ever
Sit
Learn
In a classroom that echoed for me a
Violence
Hatred
Of words and symbols I could not understand
Because I was 'different'.
Five
Years
Has taken me to the point of success
And I want you to know that
All
Everything
I have become and will be is
Because of you.

I knew
so had to come out and look
and it explains everything
Waning Gibbous!

Thunder roars
lightning strikes
rain lashes down
upon exits.
Who would want to
wake up to
clouds that hide
blue skies.
Our streets
will either wave happy
banners of red
or be filled with blood.
We tried but the
blind can never foresee
the foreshadowing of
our own doom.

Today I was given a lucky charm
Or defensive hanger to protect me
Against the flea bitten of spirit.
A talisman to conquer that elusive love
Against hybrids of tails and coins
Against hybrids of toads and butterflies.

Oh Lucky Charm defend me from
Those who make work more complicated than it is with
All kinds of *******.
Protect me against cars and their drivers
And those who make me afraid with their fear.

Give me luck so that I can put up a shield against
Those so twisted that they bite their tale with
Intentions I do not need to discover.
The two faces in one
And those who despise poetry and art.

I hope that by hanging onto you I will
Fight against those who want more from me
And find those that seek love.
Safe from those that make us afraid with fear
Wrap promises in warm true fingers
Not wearing gloves instead of hands.

Mistah Kurtz—he dead.

A penny for the Old Guy

I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We ***** together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

It is always around midnight when
I sit and contemplate my days
And what better way to say it
Than a poem by Robert Graves:

About midnight my heart began
         To trip again and knock.
The tattered ghost of a tall man
Looked fierce at me as in he ran,
          But fiercer at the clock.

It was, he swore, a long, long while
          Until he'd had the luck
To die and make his domicile
On some ungeographic isle
          Where no hour ever struck.

'But now, you worst of clocks', said he
           'Delayer of all love,
In vengeance I've recrossed the sea
To **** at your machinery
            And give your hands a shove.'

So impotently he groped and peered
           That his whole body shook!
I could not laugh at him; I feared
This was no ghost but my own weird,
           And closer dared not look.

A knowledge and a mastery
              kept inside
is not wise and why keep those
     S    E   C   R    E   T   S
            that easily
S
     L
           I
               D
                     E
out, up, down, forward, back
around, a sight, a sound
                     to
                      D
             I                   E
                   L     G
not guide!

To acknowledge the catastrophe
                not hide
those cries and why weep for a
    B  L  E  A  K  N  E  S  S
             that cunningly
R                                    S
          I     ­              E
                    D
in, down, behind, in front
a trot, a canter, a gallop
                     to
***                           IDE
and hide?

No longer in black
or funeral colours
of grief but
today it was
shades of blue
dresses in other
shapes
with skirts
that could lead me
into a twirl
and make me ditch
denim trousers
because I'm still
a girl!

Do we
Live in a world that we didn't even choose
Utopia, Dysphoria, War Zone?
Or stay
Safe in a place that is nestled within a womb
Placenta, Myopia, Safe Home?
Or should we
Stay in a county with possesions we own
Dictator, Fabricator, Planes drone?
Can't speak
A language that was created by us unknown
Metaphorical, Native, Foul tongue?
Is there
A Universe that we by chance could exist
Uninvited, Alien, Pesty Guest?
Or would
A world of full of boundaries let me find
A Nation, Peace, Permanent home?

Those four red lines
do not represent any journey
we have had
or will.
I am not climbing
your ladder of
hurt and
self loathing.
The compass you used
will take us in a new direction
of red sands
and deserts.
Let that be your guide
and do not dig that
needle in again unless
it's to pinpoint our travels.

My favourite time is
when I carried you
through ripe
bananas, melons, cucumbers
and hated them
choked in my throat
but saw a way through
mixing smoothies
to no use
abuse
so
nothing I did
or advice I took
was ever quite true
silent
keeping vitamins inside
it was serious
swallowing things so vile
couldn't see
past the life mapped out
in a bedroom of blue
strawberries, oranges, lemons
a fruit
I grew
you
flew.

There should be a way
to just save thoughts and
feelings
automatic
come back
with no setting
just there
a thought on the air.
I've lost mine
and it won't come back
exactly as I needed
to say.
Lost
but with support and
if this were
entwined in
everything
you can redo and rewind.
Hello!
It's Poetry xxxx

# most apps save and you don't lose

A scent wafts in today
and I start making my own goals
in the wrong direction,
fingers clogged with dirt
nails raw
clawing with that uttermost splurt
that sends my head spinning
with no reflection.

Or maybe it's because it's May
and in-between my ***-holes
the wind is a distraction
minds filled with hurt
heart sore
feeling with that need to blurt
that sends my soul winning
with no detection.

A tongue
Used for exploring
Mmmm!
Everywhere I've been.


A tongue used for licking
Mmmm!
Soft swirls of cream.

A tongue used for circling
Mmmm!
Parameters so extreme.

A tongue used for flicking
Mmmm!
Pebbles in a stream.

A tongue used for speaking
Mmmm!
On a particular theme.

A tongue used for shrieking
Mmmm!
Fantasies in my dream.

A tongue
Your tongue
My tongue
All tongue
          Oh My God...... Words
                                                    Just
Come!

In the ill-considered dark
Behind electric lights
Rats
Like an oil slick
Poured into the night
Unseen.
Their blind pink eyes;
Blood dripping on
Varicose Street
Where revolving insomniacs
Gathered
To greet a future
Hard Won
A destiny of dust
Inconsequential motes
Bought by votes.

Take a chill pill
Relax
Sit slack
Have a crack
It's not real.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN
IT'S TOTALLY OBSCENE
THAT I'M NOT ALLOWED
TO BE ON THE SCENE?

Take my chill pill
Adapt
Hit back
Have a knack
It's surreal!

Good evening
And welcome to
The blame game.

Tonight we will lay it
At the door
Of the most vulnerable
In our midst.

Tonight it's the turn
Of the poor
It's the poor
(Undeserving of course)
Will be kissed.

Yes. Tonight's Star Prize
One not to be missed
A leech's
Kiss.

Put on your dress he says
A dinner, date, rare steak
No!

Wear those heels he says
A tango, salsa, quick step
Slow!

Show me that silk he says
A clip, photo, one take
Go!

Open your door he says
A knock, bang, hard touch
Low!

Busy with work he says
A silence, blank, upset
Blow!

Blunt
Smart
Razor
Sharp
Is my tongue.
Stick yours right there
One day
Words
Might
Come!

Wonder why I can rejoice in a light breeze
but a single fallen leaf
turned in the wrong direction
can make it feel like
a storm
a hurricane
a monsoon?

Wonder why I can revel at my ease
but a single word so brief
aimed in the right direction
can make me feel like
a swarm
a bit insane
a baboon?

Bit bored and lonely
so I could go out and meet
Jack
in the green.
Paint colours on my face
and wave a white scarf
Jack
in between.
Could listen to music
that vibrates within my soul
Jack
you have seen.
But stay home only
not to start a parade of mine
Jack
I have been.

I'm in a pub garden having a drink
when a wasp comes by and what does he think
that disturbing a giggle a smile and a laugh
it's ok to dive and have a beer bath.
I think to myself I could rescue the thing
but what if I do and he comes back to sting.
I leave him there but feel guilty and know
that diving in beers is no place to go.

I wonder what might be going on in your tiny mind
little black fly as you land in a glass of chilled white wine?
Do I let you drown in a Yellow Sea or rescue you and set you free
to enjoy the intoxication
as you try to fly away?
Or will I use my finger to push you deeper and squeeze
the life out of you
why?
death could be sweeter.

I don't want relationships
based on bonds or strings
or things that make me
               tied
                        down
let
        me
                 drown
                                 in
my
            own
                         imaginings.

I don't want friendships
based on falseness or lies
or spies that make me
                  hate
                             love
let
         me
                    suffer
                                   ­ in
my
              own
                              ties.

I don't want a kinship
based on trust and hopes
or jokes that make me
                   smile
                                cry
have
            me
                       hang
                                       on
my
                   own
                                    ropes.

Slipping through dry leaves
you teased me with your forked tongue
not so young
a whole lot  more
older and wiser but no advisor
to deny the hiss as you slid through
holes
and let it come
so much a *****
cleaner and greener but not meaner
to stop future slime slithering here
leaving
skins
at my door.

I have written a lot of things
but it's nowhere near to everything
that I could once do
because of you
I stopped
starting something new
because I didn't believe in anything
but it's not now me that's perishing
and thoughts become few
a conclusion I drew
I swapped.

I don't play ping pong
green with no surface
to bat it back and forth
over a net that I cannot find.
I don't play those games
life with no strings
to say it back and force
white lies and
anonymous things.
I like juggling
*****
so have the decency
to say one day they might
be yours!

She painted a disguise full of colour
grey, green, pink and red.
A mask of flesh to cover
thoughts, bruises, dreams in her bed.  
She laid it carefully on paper
buff
no black text on white
blurry
images
mixing with her head.

It took time to mix and caste
ideas, thoughts, rhymes and tears.
A shield to confront her innermost
magic, demons and heart of fears.
She wrote with a pen on the
left
the left that is left and not your right
early
pictures
where she treads more near.

she usually lets it sit in curls quite
natural,
with no warmth or heat that is so
unnatural,
but he says he will arrive on his feet
contractual,
she straightens and tidy's away the
factual,
and puts things in cupboards to hide
supernatural,
he comes and he goes not noticing the
actual,
woman he came to see is in chaos
collateral.

You did not need to be anyone at all
biological, but safe and warm or
just to put your arms around a child
to heal that pain.

You did not need that cord to be cut
umbilical, but only think and
just to have the feeling that she won't
open the wound again.

You did not need a child: lost and found
miracle, but to hear the voice or
just to witness screaming and dreaming
in vain in vain in vein.

You did have a child that was quite
illogical, but you never come here to
just a life without reasoning
with no pressure no stain.

Do you hide it
And pretend you are 'normal'
When the world around you
Is Insane?

Do you tell it
And pretend you are a 'total'
When they use it against you
To their gain?

Do you write it
And let the words flow and 'blow'
Upon empty ears
Is it the same?

Do you you give up,
And let them 'break' your nose, blood
In a corner
For their gain?

Or do you?
Why would you?
Why should you?
How could you?
A friend?

Autistic
Artistic
A statistic?
Trying to connect.