My heart doesn't feel so good,
I can't think or see straight anymore -
my chest aches and skips,
I'm trying to sleep but my eyes are burnt and sore.

It seems that everyone I love
or had ever known,
has now betrayed my trust
packed up their bags and just gone -

I'm so ****** independent,
I ain't got no friends -
hell, who needs them?
Relationships with loose ends and frayed dividends,

portraying care that has a flair
for going sour and stale,
compassion that cries in corners
as love suddenly collapses and grows frail.

Are our lives determined by the shadows
that plague our sorry pasts?
In this black void of a world,
is there truly a happiness that can ever last?

Cawing crows as black as tar,
pick and feast upon my naked soul...
it's alright though
'guess I'll never be fulfilled whole,

never have a girl, nor a family,
I'll probably die alone in these faded clothes in which I dress -

once upon a time I cared...

but now I just want out of this life that's a sorry mess...

Chewing upon fingers rotten and curled
knowing everything makes sense in a senseless world
inglorious, bedridden, they hide behind trees -

serving up genocide, well-spoken and civilised

clawing at the insides of our sordid society
wearing TNT like it's the latest fashion
they smile politely and walk upon our streets -

brainwashed and stupefied, Dumb-hounds corrupted and paralysed

crawling down the path of a religion
birthed from self-righteousness and bomb-smoke
upon their jealousy, their juvenile blinding faith
we suffocate, gag and choke

visualising the world from eyes
of despotic marauders
selfish needs defeats the objective
desensitised clones bound to extremist orders

innocence green-eyed and bastardised
reciting prayers bound together with cyanide
they call upon a Lord that no longer cares
alas the tendril of insanity catches them unawares

for 'tis within the womb of bloated belief
that martyrs are bred,

sanity unreeling, dangerously unfeeling,
and willing to allow our streets run red.

A little glimmer off a shooting star,
a wave of glittering gold-dust
sprinkled from a world, afar,

liquid life,
sprouting shrubs and growing trees,
a wave of evolution,
liberating the inanimate,
gifting them with legs and knees,

raging slivers of fire
mercilessly compressed and tamed,
birthing the light and Sun,
a magnetic core in the earth
holding us down, letting stagnant waters run,

the reigning darkness,
purged back deep into the shadows,
concealing the hole to Hell
where temptation whispers
and sin grows,

then us,
children of Adam, and of Eve,
living in virtual utopia,
in a beautiful world that we thieve -

for this world is not just our own,
to taint and manipulate,

but yet we still burrow deep into our selfish minds,

seeking paradisiacal perfection

that we will never find.

Uncouthly, the freeze of late-february did start to wane,
and from the canals that run through the city of Manchester
mists slowly arose, along with degrading auras of heavy disdain.

As pubs and nightclubs alike
shuttered up and locked down upon the cusp of early morn,
slimy creatures slowly ascended, treading the shadows of the streets for easy prey to ****** before the oncoming dawn,

stray felines and dogs, the most common of their foods,
thy amphibious monstrosities leaving behind nothing but bones -
and upon the second night after, their hunger sought more,

so they snuck into unknowing buildings and stole children from their homes.

Now what happened on that morning after was most queer;
these children were not found dead nor reduced to corpses, but in the strangest of places -

standing upon the edge of the canal's miasmic bank,

untouched 'xcept for the stretch of skin that now covers their faces.

In silence she sits,
gazing at the glass of water shimmering on his bedside table,
deep down knowing she must do it -
but also knowing she'll never be able.

Lay there,
plastic tubes fused to his veins,
his beating heart exposed bare -
and yet the Doctors say his brain is
DEAD,
and yet, breathing, he lives
outstretched before her on the hospital bed.

They never had kids,
she was always unable to conceive -
and yet night,
after night,
he always gave it,
and she always tried to receive.

All he wanted was to be a father -
because of her
he never got the chance to care,
to rear a child of his own;
provide a loving heart,
and a warm and safe home.

[I'm so sorry]

And at 17:01,
with the machine monitor
covered with a single white cloth,
she bends over her late husband,
with a shaking hand,
she switches the life support off.

17:35

She sits
and cries
a lonely woman,
already grieving and telling herself lies.

[Don't be -]
[sorry]

Whispers in the wind.

AJ

I fear the insanity of reality
the dying of the light,
I fear the poisoned blood inside my veins
and the nightmares that plague my nights,

I fear the cancer within a killer's eyes
the two-faced tyrant that shifts disguise -
I fear the loss of touch's sense upon my skin
the stark fact of being unable to give in,

I fear the men behind the make-up
red noses, big shoes, dickie bows and ties -
I fear loneliness's tortured silence,
of being left alone with my mind's screaming cries,

I fear the dead girls in white dresses
the struggles of modern life and it's many stresses -
I fear of finally flipping over the edge
cursed with the bastardised genes with which I'm drenched,

I fear the mysteries that life beholds
the thieves that'll creep in, steal my shallow breath,

I fear the eventual eventuality,

that is to be woken by the chilling whisper of Death.

You are the light that shines
brighter than any star,
you're a gem riddled with flaws
but that's not what makes you who you are.

You're my candle that glitters in the night -
you may not have always been there for me
but hey don't dwell on it; it really is alright.

You may be a bit big (quite a chunky monkey)
and yeah you've lost most of your hair -
but now you're here beside me
and for all your faults, I simply don't care.

For this Christmas I want to give you something special;
I wrote this poem from the bottom of my heart,
powered by that beautiful life and strength
you gave me right from the very start.

I give you something no one can ever take away;
a present that can never be touched,
never be seen, nor heard,
but can always be had -

on this fine Christmas Day,
I just wanted to say I love you Dad.

Slowly, she clutched the covers tighter to her chest.

"Oh Aleshaaa... you can't hide..." drawled the monster beneath her bed, it's choked voice gurgling thickly at the back of its throat like a blocked sewer pipe.

#twosentencehorror

In slit-throat symphony
it pumps
encapsulated by its own desire
as it quivers and jumps.

A sucker for love,
and the vector for infectious fury,
four bloodied arbitral chambers;
Victim, Executioner, Judge and Jury.

For I can feel
the soured anger it injects into
the cerebral cortex of my brain
infesting my life
with sickness and clotted disdain,

this foolish heart
I'd rip right out of my chest!
Forget all the pain
because I don't think I'd feel the rest,

It's just not fair -
not fair, that with every passing day,
I feel less and less
like my true, honest, self -

O' sweet Doctor

lock the door

I think I'm very ill of health...

Do I disgust you? Do I repulse you
is my fashion sense really that vile?
Am I too ******, do you feel queasy
when I flash my sabre-tooth smile?

Am I too black? Or maybe too white?
Do my exquisite tastes blind your eyes?
Am I too sultry, is my bare-faced adultery
the very thing that you despise?

I am a king, I am a queen;
my greed grows from below to above -
my alacrity I stretch, to hear people retch,
I am a commander of one and the origin of love,

Yes I'm an exponential craze, I live to amaze
entering blistering gunfights blind -
so disgracefully *****, reaching the ripe age of thirty
and I've already left my thousand sins behind,

So do I still disgust you, still repulse you
with my repugnant smile?

Yes I can be ******, make you feel queasy,
but trust me it'll all be worthwhile.

Locked away in the dankest corner
bloodied fingers frantically pawing the ground,
a lonesome girl of nineteen, distraught and weeping,
too afraid to utter a sound.

With filthy hair matted upon her forehead
and an eyelid that's split in two -
all she wears is linen rags tied around her waist
whereupon the crotch, ***** slowly seeps through.

It was always her dream to be a singer
to cherish a life of fortune and fame -
alas one nasty twist of events changed everything,
subjecting her to a life of abuse and excruciating pain.

Once a sweet little girl singing songs in the school yard,
now a schizophrenic teen, living in warped fantasy -
care workers leaving her to lie in her own faeces
as doctors discuss psychosis, and even lobotomy.

Fast-forward to seven weeks later,
wheelchair-bound, with nails so long they've began to curl,

gazing at this giggling black-eyed freak,

never would you believe it's the same girl...

Meet Delilah,
she's infatuated with Lilies,
out in the courtyard she'll play
upon every hour,
for every day,
until she suddenly flips with the sillies.

I would not say she's pretty -
more like pretty ******* strange!
With a wrinkled old head, and sticky-out ears,
an inhumane goblin that's twisted and deranged.

Because, to Delilah,
you're as strange to her, as she is to you,
she'll always be one step ahead
of anything that you may do...

Delinquent Delilah,
strangled her puppy in cold blood,
and mowed down her cat -
inside her mind they were no longer;
Fin! Gone! And that was that.

I mean -

She just sat there, stroking the petals
on her stupid beloved Lilies,
as those poor animals writhed in pain...

so I'd remember that,
when she next offers you a daisy chain.

I plunge my fists deep into the cavity beside your heart
oh then I scream as thou pristine hands are painted red, for
my knowledge's a disposition, my loving's an addiction,
I may be tightly knit but my mind's fraying at the edge,

I felt myself caring, when I thought it no longer could be
my warped obsession with you
gave me something to think about, and queerly set me free -

alas my pastimes remained
a quandary to the twisted and deranged
through the eyes of a calculative Psychopath
I am cursed to forever see,

yes I know what to feel, I know what to say
but don't be fooled, I'm a living masquerade and I care not for you in any way -

oh I'll buy you a coffee, take you to a room and please you there -
but then the twitches start, as I rip the sultry fabric
from your skin, grab handfuls of your velveteen hair,

oh you'll be petrified, you'll freeze
as I finally unveil the insanity that I strive to appease -
in full swing and oblivious to the pain
revelling in the serendipity that is my disease

I'll take you for all you are, and all your worth,
then I'll swiftly **** you
and leave your body bleeding upon the hearth -

strolling casually into the dying sun,

smiling as the day collapses and begins to fold -

a horrific sight enough

to make one's blood run cold.

CHAPTER 1 - Part 2

He stopped, the knife still in his hand, but now pointing to the floor. He panted, his breath now dry and stale again; the wound in his thigh now severely bleeding.

[I'm sorry]

The air was still around him, all sound ceased to exist - no wind, no shimmer of any trees, no birds singing. Only his dragging breath and beating heart.

[I'm so sorry]

"Aaaaaaaagh... aaaaaaaaghhh."

His head snapped up, jaw squared, his whole body locking down and freezing.

A few yards ahead of him, shambling along in the diminishing sunlight, was a living corpse. Its breath was also wheezy, but rattled too as the loose fluids inside its rotting body sloshed around. It glared at him with one rheumy eye, the other just a black socket - the skin torn right down to its chin. It wore absolutely no clothes whatsoever - its reproductive organs now gnarled and black. One yellowing femur bone protruded from its right leg, sticking out and bending queerly with every slow step.

"Aaaaaaaagh... aaaaaaaaaghhh."

Jay stood up, and made his way slowly towards it, yet again flicking the carving knife up and down. Blood poured down his leg; the corpse smelt it and starting to lollop towards him, attracted to his bleeding flesh like a ravenous dog.

"Like the smell, eh?" Jay roared, his voice rusty and hoarse. He started to run to it, his steel tipped boots clicking on the tarmac road as he went, the metallic sound reverberating in his ears and echoing around -

-and around-

- in his head, high-pitched and tinny, drilling into his mind in excruciating and relentless pain.

"I said - DO YOU LIKE THE SMELL, YOU SACK OF ****?!" He screamed at it, his head pounding, his own voice repeating over and over to itself. Dribble ran down his mouth - which was now pulled into a rictus-like grin, showing his teeth and bleeding gums. "Come here - have a piece of me!"

"Aaaaaaaaagh!" The corpse gnashed its mawed jaws together, the single eye wide in greedy excitement. It stumbled ever-closer to him, its calloused fingers reaching out to grasp his white shirt - to pull him closer.

And that's when he struck, bringing down the blade onto both its wrists; cutting them clean in two with a crunch. Blood sprayed everywhere; over his chest, his shoes, in his grinning face. He swept back his hair, revealing one lucid green eye - dancing with eclectic hysteria, the other eye circled by a scar, its pupil wide and pooled in blood.

Using his whole body weight, he shoved it, where it fell over backwards like a sack of stones, never putting out its hands to break the fall, merely just letting its skull smash right onto the road. It didn't stop though, carried on wriggling, holding up its severed stumps at him. He kicked them away, and dug the heel of his boots into its empty eye socket, pinning its head to the ground.

"There we are, just stay there -" He leant over, whispered right into its gnashing face, holding his knife outstretched behind him. His other free hand twitched.

"I must admit, you done me a favour coming here today." He spoke into its glazed eye, the browning eyeball swivelling round madly in its socket, as if the close proximity of Jay was giving it some sort of sick ******.

This didn't phase him, only made him chuckle darkly.

"Sometimes my mind... wanders... just like you do, come to think of it." He flicked the knife , shoving his boot harder into the corpse's socket as it tried to lunge up at his face. "I had a wife once, she didn't like it when I wandered... she didn't really like me... just my money."

A large gob of snot exploded from the zombie's nose, dribbling into its snarling mouth.

He looked at it and smiled, bringing his knife to its face and tracing a long invisible line down its forehead.

"I don't think she'd like you either... can't see why." He continued with his knife, now tracing up from the corners of the zombies mouth to the undersides of its ears. "She would always look at me when I'd returned wandering, looking at my face and frowning - that's the whole reason I would go off for night-time walks, to get away from her; to get away from the smothering ***** with all her pregnancy problems and financial qualms."

He traced a line up from the opposite corner, now completely enthralled in what he was doing, his face creeping closer and closer to the zombie's.

"She would look at my face, and then laugh, with her prissy hands on her hips and her slutty lips pursed, and she would say 'Why Jay, are you carrying the world again?' and I would frown and say 'No' and then she'd laugh and tell me to turn my frown upside down." He cracked his head back, roaring with sudden and hysterical laughter that brought a slaver of bile running out of his mouth.

He laughed and laughed, cackling hysterically, his bloodshot eyes weeping, his mouth pulled right back into a full blown rictus - the trapped zombie beneath him still smacking its jaws together, trying to bite.

He whipped right back again, staring straight into its face - his green eye now cold and calculating. The knife once again traced the corners of the zombies mouth.

"Why," he grinned, "lets turn your frown upside down!"

AJ

CHAPTER 1 - Part 1


The lone figure hobbled painfully down the road, one hand clasped to his bleeding thigh, the other just hanging aimlessly by his side.

He wore a filthy white shirt, the collar now dog eared and embedded with stale sweat. The baking sun bore down on his navy, army-style, jacket - burning its fabric so intensely that the colour pigments had actually started to fade, giving the whole coat a washed out purplish tinge at its fraying edges. Upon the jacket's left arm was a peeling smiley sticker, the actual curl of the paper contorting the smiley's face into a strained grimace.

The other arm was stained with blood.

"Go... go... with the flow -" He whispered quietly to himself, head hung over, cast in thick shadow by his greasy hair. With every jaunty step he took, a spurt of blood escaped from his clutching hand and dripped onto the tarmac road - where it sizzled in the sun.

He wheezed and gasped, as if his throat was lined with dry sandpaper - and yet he still whispered quietly to himself, those same words over and over again.

"Go... go... with the flow."

Fields of daisies surrounded him - their once canary yellow petals, now scorched brown; dead and lifeless. Everything dead in this world, apart from him, the punishing sun in the sky, and Death itself.

He shook his head swiftly once - for no apparent reason.

["You don't have to, babe - we can work it out!"]

"No... we... ca-n't..." He groaned to himself, shaking his head side to side, his free hand starting to twitch.

"Can't... just can't -"

A slight wind suddenly blew from the north, lifting up his mopped fringe, scantly revealing his face. His skin was sickly white, the hair only moving enough to reveal a circular scar gouged all the way around his right eye - the pupil of which, was pooled with blood.

He smiled, a lopsided grin that revealed pristine white teeth.

["No, no please - just put it down, we can sort it all out!"]

"Baby, baby, babyyy..." He spoke clearly, his tone now remarkably smoother and refined. In some eerie way it was as if he was trying not to laugh at something, the same sort of tone a school kid would use when trying not to laugh at a joke as they're getting told off by a teacher.

It was as if... well it was as if he was in his own little world, talking to a person that was only existent in his head.

["I don't care what you've done... I still love you!"]

"No you don't."

His leg continued to bleed, and the sun burned even brighter, but he stood up straight - well almost, one shoulder sloped slightly to the left side. His leg was bent at heavily at the knee, blood running in rivets down his pants.

["Jay... l-listen, j-just put it down - there's no reason for this!"]

With a flick, he shook out a seven inch carving knife straight out of his sleeve - the hand holding deadly still.

The blade glittered in the sun.

["Jay - no!"]

He lurched forwards, holding out the knife to his side and flicking with a menacing flair.

"Baby be still... just go with the flow..."

AJ

The light glows off her sleek hair,
the tint of her skin,
divine and deliciously fair -

she's stood at the newsstand
paying by debit card,
her smart mini satchel clasped in her hand.

I watch cautiously from the nearest side-street,
through frosted up glass,
jumping now and then
at the occasional car that might pass.

She's beautiful - moving so effortlessly
and strangely angelic,
the chemical lag of this non-present world
makes it all seem so... psychedelic.

Oh, will she see me stood here
with those inquisitive blue eyes,
will she see through my insidious disguise?

'Cause I crave food on a daily basis,
many people stroll past me
sniggering and laughing with disgusted faces.

I lounge on the London streets,
my beds are the floors,
I curl up beside the twisted lepers
and next to the infected ******.

And so as the woman exits the shop
I feel my hand twitch, and drop
to the little surprise tucked in my belt -

after all these years
I never wanted to know how killing someone felt,

but

my stomach gripes in pain from starvation,
my bowels are always tight with constipation,

it seems everyone lives so grand
but not me, oh no -

I just want that bag clasped in her hand.

(16+)

Come sit down my child
whilst I tell you a little story,
about the son who was a wicked boy
and how he fell from glory.

It was upon a dark Sunday evening
betwixt the eleventh hour and the twelfth,
that our young boy
paid a fleeting visit to his sister, who was very ill of health.

Suffering, and weak with scabies,
pale skinned and lay bare on her bed,
thy demonic *******, was excited by her submission,
so laid her 'til she was dead.

And upon the following morning,
there was not a sound of his grieving
but that of his tired yawning,

as he put back on his clothes
wiped up the fingerprints
and carefully cleaned up her robes.

Because even he knew
that this secret little interest
was an illegal, sordid, act
of malicious ****** -

And so, seven long days after,
at the funeral he paid his dutiful respects
to the girl he'd fantasised about for countless years -

grinning sickly on the inside,
but still managing a few small tears.

Never in your life has a nightmare
been as **** as this -
the hag that had once repulsed you, now preens,
rubs her *******, blows you a kiss.

["Hiya sweetie..."]

Oh, she grins and giggles
removes her mouth and opens up a rotted carcass;
moth-eaten rags hanging off
her bony chest that's puerile and heartless,

dancing in pools of stagnating, coruscant blood,
stroking the tender fabric of your deepest frights -
arching her back, licking her lips,
she rips holes in her legs beneath sultry velvet tights,

******* clad, her old sagging skin
waxy and sick,
whacking her *** naughtily

[Slap! Slap!]

as she gives you a cheeky lil' wink -

#FLASH#

you're wide awake, stiff upright
sweaty and cold -
desperately trying to get to grips, but knowing

[too little, too late]

that to the darkness your soul is
forever sold.

To dance with angels,
first you have to forgive their lies;
over-zealous birds with peripheral faces, and fingers -
about as exciting as the clouds floating in the skies,

covering their ears
as the world below them burns and cries,

over-zealous suffragettes in dresses
I admittedly loathe and despise

pugnacious, self-centred and frozen to the core
laughing hysterically as we worship and spread their lore,

not actually interested in who we are or what we do,
making emotional archetypes out of fools such as me and you

oh yes -

give me one, I'll burn away her clothes
expose her, barren and broken, like she did me,

give me one, I'll douse that halo in tar then **** on it;
purely vengeance from when she shattered my hopes of finally being free -

[sigh]

I think if I ever did get the chance,

I'd rather clip her wings than have a dance.

Prising through the fog like creeping fingers
headlights approach slowly, glaring and foul
from beneath the obscurement of mist,
a demoniac engine gurgles and growls.

A 1958 Plymouth Fury, one beauty of a car,
spoilers whistling, axels whispering

[THIEF]

ancient, but without sentiment -
the grills above her bumper curved into slender-hooked teeth

blood-red and fat, a body that's sleek,
bloated, ready to chastise;
one twisted zygote, a devil's reject -
from the depths of a broken heart, tendrils of fury begin to rise

blue-smoke billowing behind in transient swirls,
my mind bends as reality curls,
still lay here and she's getting closer -

and closer -

[- oh leave me be -

- just let me go -

- crawl someplace where your face won't show -]

She can't understand that my love for her is no longer,
she can't seem to understand that my resistance to her charms is so much stronger -

and still she speeds along the highway
taking the night and violently painting it red,
her wheels squealing towards
the dusty asphalt where I lie my head,

speeding along

not slowing down -

["Hey stop! No please STOP!!!"]

///CRUNCH///..-.

There was once a stuttering freak,
who floundered at every syllable he tried to speak -
many people called him queer
so he lived in fear;
fell down at life's knees, fragile and weak.

Every cold winter's night he'd kneel and pray, wishing
for the freedom to walk the streets without being called gay -
judged by his clothing, odd stride and hair
swallowed up in a world that's disgustingly prejudice and unfair

Oh, why live in a world writhing with sin?
To be ridiculed by merciless ******* that just want your dreams to collapse, cave in -

shot with ***** looks from blackened eyes,
living with luxuries that some despise -
alcohol, drugs, morals becoming less and less
the human race spiralling out of control as we indulge in ***,

and so our stuttering hero spat in the face of strife,
alas in a cruel twist of fate, that person carried a knife -

with a swift punch to his head,
he was knocked to the floor and hacked at until dead -

seems that in our shattered world, not even courage wins;

sprawled upon a paving slab in his own blood

floating away from our sins...

AJ

A Lion's heart, but it lost it's pride,
one nasty grudge with a gun
and a million thoughts that flicker and subside.

I see your face in the dying moonlight,
a heart that's torn, mangled,
kept awake by past memories that whisper in the night.

A bud that splits, fed by intravenous inception
moral decomposition ingrained into its glistening petals,
leading its victims on a crimson stained mis-direction -

you're my Dove that shines in the light
but with split feathers, and broken wings;
the kiss from the Devil you used to love
still bites and stings.

For tonight you cry for mercy
as I silently peer through the crack in the door -

it seems father finally took your heart,
and left it bleeding and shattered upon the floor.

Welcome to the Physical World
where everything black is found -
shattered buildings, broken bones
and bombs buried in the ground.

It's a world rife with clichés
and violence gone amiss -
smoke lines the horizon
as death puckers up its first kiss.

Flowers growing
in waterlogged tank tracks,
hundreds of poisoned children
their breath wrought with coughs and hacks,

bloodied crimson stains
the choked gravel that was once streets,
barbed steel walls and gates, blocking
where one nation to another meets.

Welcome to the Physical World
where the gods ignore our desperate pleas,

Welcome to this ****** nation,
that has fallen to its knees.

There's two sugar dumplings
called Tate and Lyle -
one just frowns
at the other's queer smile,

for Tate is different
to the rest of the sugar pack;
he harbours an overbearing weight,
an abnormal secret strapped to his back.

He's attracted, not to women,
but to tender men -
an odd manifestation within
that yearns again, and again.

O' sadistic Lyle knew this of course
and so was furious to the core -
for the little sugar brat
nursed a bleeding heart, broken and sore,

and as the pendulums of time
did eventually sway,
Lyle allowed his own brother
to be taken on a spoon, up up and away -

down into a boiling furnace of tea,
alas 'twas sallow anger,
not guilt, that Lyle felt,

his crystals of sugar bristling,
as he watched his younger sibling drown and melt.

This very Rose before you, my loving honest friend,
will tell you of how such beauty becomes real
and whether it lives or dies, upon
your judgements it depends,

for this ivory Rose was crafted
from a single feather of a ****** Dove
that was birthed, and blessed
by our mighty father up above,
kissed with evanescent lips dripping
caught from the valley of dreams,
the fountain of Aphrodite, where it was slowly sipping,

plucked gently from its graceful wings,
the feather, comforted and stroked
transformed into a seed by his loving hands,
where-upon he strolled into the vast and hazardous deserts,
buried its precious life in the sands -

and of all the names should he pick,
it was yours that he saw,
your maiden name that influenced what he chose,
for this very flower was created just for you,
my love, my sweet Eleanor Rose.

Delivery by C-section,
lawyers and court orders
demanding patient discretion.

How could something so natural
turn so wrong?
Thousands of conceived babies
thriving in bodies where they don't belong.

Homosexuality, and legalised Gay marriage -
the good intentions of our governments
opening the gates to a disastrous passage.

Because now our women's numbers
are drastically few,
yet the Human race continues
to breed fresh, renew -

No, you can't change what you love
or what tempts you to sin;
even the best, most straight, of us
can always give in.

But will you still agree
in ten years time,
will you still accept equality when,
our women are hopelessly infertile,
and children are birthed by men?

She's one killer queen
captivated within a nest of fire -
she's so ****, alluring,
her body seductive and bristling with desire.

Smoky eyes, ravish-me red lips,
bringing you to your knees -
lust, will ensnare you,
she seduces with her predatory tease.

Next you're asking her out for a drink,
as she clouds your head with her slick oily thighs -
minute after minute,
you're pulled further into her insidious disguise.

Hunger for flesh controls, drives you on,
purity is only skin deep -
truth concealed within her curves,
accountability on delete.

Oh yeah,

her facade masks a sadistic virus,
slowly curdling her elegance to obscene -

she's one angel that's black and dying,

I guess that's why they call her the Killer Queen.

AJ/SJW

Striking, turquoise genetics,
douse my cries in grieving resplendency,
for my naked soul
weeping has become almost a dependency //.-

familiar devil's hands
tucking me into home-made bones;

conscious, automatic,

////-..f-feelings sporadic ///.-.

I..-///.-..     ..I.///.-./.

I am not on my own,

shambling skeletons, rocking out upon the dance floor,
twerking to a cathartic post-punk sound -
jagged multi-colour squares flashing spasmodically,
jumping and jiving all over the ground,

crowds of pretty girls in leather tops,
thrashing their hips to the beat,
moving in fluent passion
skin blushed, dripping and sweaty from the heat,

whilst the darkness spoons out mousy doe eyes,
trading them in for introspective sight
colliding souls gyrating blindly
beneath schizophrenic light

curdling their kaleidoscopic hearts, tainting them homologous -
rubbed raw from a crass reflection,
hammering lips to robotic DNA

.//-. dr-...dru- //

drugging our minds for a complexion that's perfection.

AJ/SF

#cheekyrepost

She kisses with liquorice lips,
grins with an auriferous smile,
she lures with skin as soft as feathers
and devours with teeth of a crocodile,

she doesn't care who she hurts
or who she teases -
she's able to ignore all the agony
so long as it pleases -

O' she'll grab your mind with her greedy eyes,
then seize you by the ***** -
a ****** expression, ******* on a cigarette,
she whispers in the night and mockingly drawls,

clad in tights that unveil the premises of liposuction,
she'll make you sick, and disgraceful;
rip apart love and **** on it, then deny its abduction

for when it all looks lost, and you finally flip,
she'll only preen, groaning at your petty insults -

she's a flower, black and withered,

she's death by **** results.

I awake to a light shining upon my temple,
bask in the amber hues of dawn -
in the throes of fascination I gaze out
to a land magnificently vivid and beautifully drawn,

clouds that are semi-crescent wisps
remnants of a giant silken web spun,
mountains and mountains of pumice rock
from which crystallised water runs

field after field of emerald lemongrass,
hundreds of bovine cattle that stroll and graze -
a sky so agonisingly blue it near blinds the sun,
a picturesque paradise which can never be erased,

and as the trees around sway and bend
so does my fragile mind;
enthralled in this utopia and believing false perceptions
I take a step forward and leave reality behind -

heart crashing to a shuddering stop
as I catch a glimpse of my battered reflection -

alone in the semi-darkness of my bathroom
riding alongside the Devil on a one-trip road to perfection.

Lost in the dark
tangled in silken threads,
naked and cast in pallid moonlight ~
her ageing skin she scratches and sheds.

Entombed deep, and safely within,
teetering on the cusp of reality
and the breadth of sin ~

tirelessly feeding,
her demoniac litter
from the sour milk of her breast ~
a thousand eight legged freaks
languishing in a giant skull lined nest,

relishing from her comfort,
her love and undying nourishment ~
tainted, but untainted,
encapsulated by the grip of shadows
free from any arcane judgement.

And in the thick of night,

inside your closet

and under your bed ~

they're there,
smiling with pincered teeth;

a thousand hairy abdomens
swollen with nightmares,
and intoxicated with grief.

When the world implodes and the nights fill with screams,
she drapes a hand over my shoulder
opens up my mind, takes a blind plunge into my dreams...

Inside the main room of my soul
lies a whimpering naked child trapped in a cage,
silently crying as its terror pools around in one big sick tide -
the animal within it rips and gnaws
seeking a hole where it can curl up and hide.

My girl ignores this creature, following the signs
to my heart, and far away from my head;
away from a festering tumour swollen with pulsing nightmares,
leaking life and soon to be dead.

For there's a fire among the horizon
that's pushing her naked body closer to mine -
in the dark, cold, November nights
our love - oh it did burn and shine!

Alas then she was gone, and I was depressed
nondescript, useless, a piece of junk to her fleeting fancies -
that night she left...
I blew my gasket and she lost all her chances.

So I ignored her when she crawled back and cried,
'twas only two weeks but I was over her

now she's much less picturesque without me by her side.

It was good, wasn't it?

With my mates gone on their own ways,
wandering back to their empty flats,
whining and shuffling like lost little strays,

I sigh, pull out my phone -
about to sink back into my lonely pit,
filled with a hundred broken hearts
and black devil's spit...

That's when our eyes suddenly catch,
you stood by the bar,
an iced ***** in your hand -
drinking just to pass the time,

and I'm stood there,
by the exit, a ringing mobile in mine.

Through the lavish, heavily sagged light,
you slowly approach -
preening back so that every inch
of your slick body
is in clear sight.

And that night
we made, not love,
but ******, sweaty lust -
a drunken ****** act
built on nothing but hidden motives and flawed trust.

And yes, it was good;
your firm golden skin,
dimpled by the lace straps of your bra,
mouth pulled into that **** grin...

But I don't love you.

I've laid all of my deck on the table,
held up and shown my playing hand -
me and you, Babe,

It was only a one night stand.

And yet you stole my number
off my closest friend,

Is this ever-
Is this ever going to end?

You're just an abdominal cramp in my existence;
still ringing my phone,
with that irritating persistence -

And I'm retreating back
into my twisted, abandoned pit -
the sweat on my body
turning slowly into that black devil spit.

Poppies...

Fields of red.
Memories of unrelenting dread.

Poppies...

Pillows of consequence, of loss
of love.
A memoir to our mistakes.
And fury.

Poppies...

Fields I tread.
Resting place of the dead.
Blood of a thousand stain their leaves,
little embodiments of death -
little life thieves.

Live off the deceased,
beautiful scavengers -
some drink their juices, liquid energy.
Liquid Poison.

Poppies,
pure poison in its rawest form,
***** field of heaven
conflict field of the past,
present
and future.

Stick it in a needle,
give it a shot -
but remember, these plants
grow on bodies that still rot.

In an inter-galactic ice cream van he arrived
and whizzed me away to countless nether-space lands -
through a universe of broken jigsaw pieces,
where rich diamanté flowers grew in shape-shifting sands.

He took me up the scarlet mountains
of the cotton candy clouds -
we both stood upon the smouldering brink of Hell
and gazed upon the ****** souls and tortuous shrouds.

He shown me light
wherein it seemed only eternal darkness prevailed,
he cracked the Astro-Riddler's code, and what
the aliens contempt language entailed,

with blistering fury
he spat in the pitiless face of greed -
with an almighty FLASH! And a rip-roaring DASH!
He travelled back to when God first planted mankind's seed.

He witnessed the future of the human race
fall horrifically out of place as the cunning serpent tempted Eve;
once he even stood before his coming demise
just to witness what the dead perceive.

O' those star-studded journeys were amazing
infinite wonders and simple love he exhaled,

but the most important thing he ever shown me,

was to never give up no matter how often I failed.

He comes every rainy day,
when all the outside is dull and grey -

a glorious smile killed by a frown,
he's Misery Pessimist
the Ever-Weeping Clown.

He peers through the windscreen at me,
breath fogging up the glass,
his hair slimy with greased sweat
his rictus grinning mouth as bold as brass.

Droplets of rain
making him look as if he's always crying
in bone-grinding pain,
smiling that sickened smile -
never knowing who it is he should blame.

I try to ignore him
but he doesn't go away -
he's a sadistic little puppy
that just wants to play.

[Maybe he'll go away if I fall asleep?]

but I can't rest at the car wheel
and besides, he'll just creep

[to the door handle]

What do I do?
Where do I go?
Is there any window where his face won't show?

Those charred eyes, always -

CRYING

[lying]

That bloodstained rictus -

LIKE CHEWING ON BROKEN GLASS

A torrent of angst, a tidal wave of rheumatic arthritis
spreading like noxious -


GAS


I can't laugh at the Clown,
can't laugh into his rheumatically mauled face -

thick oil running down his cheeks,
a face of mutilated insanity,
of a thousand screaming freaks

leaking eyes burning,
desperately pleading to be set free -

I can't laugh at Misery the Clown,
because I secretly know

that Clown is a true reflection of me.

AJ

Keeping beneath the streetlights she strides
hugging herself within a warm winter coat,
checking alleyways and shadows,
shaking, nervous fear tickling the back of her throat.

There she goes -

past broken beer bottles and empty cans
drunken pedophiles rubbing together twitchy hands,

past doorways where scumbag teenagers lie
sharing needles, and half pills just to get high -

ahead of her frantic police sirens wail,
followed by the sickening glow of blue flashing lights,
heading off to another seedy club;
a minefield of fury and bloodied, brawling fist-fights.

There she goes -

past the policeman ignoring the crowd's cries
as his suspect chokes and dies

past the little girl running and crying
saying that Daddy got angry and Mummy's now dying -

Oh there she goes, now indignant and ignorant,
a soul as transparent as the night's sky,

one monument to our sins

from a world now long gone by...

You're a thousand miles from heaven
and a million years amidst the stars,
from the world, there's a difference within you
yet I still can't figure out who you are -

with every dragging step I take
and every blast that peppers me with flak,
it seems that the only love I gave
drew you out of the blue, and into the black.

I still see your satin body sheening
fresh out of the shower and fair,
little droplets of water, glittering
like minuscule diamonds in your hair.

But beneath that flame kissed skin
I pierced your chest, tainted your heart -
I'm sorry dear, but my sins
would've always offset our love, even from the very start.

And that is why I'm here
to say sorry, apologise for everything that I've done;
it seems from this distant, confused predicament,
there's no easy place neither of us can run.

But no matter what happens next
or if you choose to hurt me, like I did you,
I'd understand completely, because after all
you can't love someone, if that love is untrue.

In the night clubs
for hours she plays;
crowds of ***** drunken men
staring through the stale tobacco haze.

Alice, her name is -
not that a woman's identity
is useful in a decrepit place like this...

Black silk tights
smothering her luscious skin,
the fabric cups of her bra -
faded from the light, slightly too thin.

She's wasted,
grinding her body across oily bars -
a single lost sliver of gold
shining bright, caressing the jealous stars.

And it's escapism that she seeks,
but it's grief that she gets,
for the door to her fantasies
is sick addiction to *** -

in her tired mind
bodies, erotica, sweaty flesh;
indulgence of the black arts
shoots her to high, ecstatic stardom -
so why not join Alice

in her secret garden?

There's a heart
on the floor,
growing in the corner,
right outside my bedroom door.

It pulses,
constantly in shadow's light -
it's the heart of darkness
it feeds off itself in the night.

B-Bump...

B-Bump...

Echoes outside my door,
that relentless beating
reverberating inside my body -
tainting anything whole and pure.

In the dead of night
even though out of sight,
I know it's there,
it's slimy tendrils rooting
down into the surface of its lair.

A parasite
roosting off its own black flesh,
the same stagnant blood pumping,
its body occasionally jumping
as it beats, prolonging its curdled life,
feeding off war
feeding off strife
feeding off my own life.

Then I get the knife.

B-Bump...

B-Bump...

My own heart beats in unison
with it,
as if a desperate message
shrieking from its festered spirit.
But I carry on
sink the knife in its diseased core
picking it up, stuck to the knife in a clump,
where I throw it out the window -
it landing on the pavement below with a sickening
'thump!'

... two months on,

Now it's gone
I'm all alone
but my life's still a dump,
for at night, when no other sound plays
I can still hear that consistent, hellish
-

Ba-Bump.

From within a blackened heart
spawns madnesses twisted Invictus,
a severed head sat atop a plinth, filled
with decaying thoughts of cyanide and citrus,

completely crazy, inverted, perverted,
infected with an insanity that dances from the eyes -
pouting lips tempestuous and alluring
from the tip of a tongue he sews insidious lies,

roosting upon the bleeding emotions of others
a vile disassociation sanity can't pertain,
charred lips from suckling the ******* of Hell
the back-broke miracle nature refuses to explain,

exhaling noxious fumes, a pyro-manic incense,
one soul re-arranged, deranged and blisteringly intense;

so much so, it disgusts me beyond words -

so kick the rotten apple,

watch the maggots writhe within thou sour curds.

If I had a son
I'd love him with my life -
I'd stretch the boundaries of my own health
just to keep him from strife.

If he was ever upset,
I'd comfort and scare away his fears,
I'd cuddle his little body
and love away his tears.

Upon the loneliest of days,
I'd mess around, tickle,
make him smile -

I'd run along beside him,
even if it was for the longest mile.

And in the darkest of nights,
I'd show him the sparkling Moon,
the glowing Mars -

I'd shower him with my undying love
and ****** him to the stars.

Inside roosts a rose of the purest arsenic,
and fanged teeth that prey upon the beating heart -
liquored venom that curses any skin with lesions,
completely devoid of mercy, it rips both flesh and bone apart.

With tendrils climbing the chasms of its velvet walls,
and thorns that would puncture thy lungs -
it's hunger devours the cytoplasm of living cells
it's saliva insidious poison that forever runs.

Only did it open when I spilt my blood onto its hellish fibres,
rejoicing with a tune from a voice that was beyond broken -
with a SNAP! And an almighty CRACK!
Did its demonic jaws spring wide open.

And there, lying in the decaying rotten core,
was no gold but a circular nest of poised stingers,
guarding this devil spawns horrific treasure;

one chest of nine severed fingers.

My dear friend, don't seek to follow me
for I'm off to the land of broken promises and pity,
within its river of alcohol I wish to drown my sorrows -
upon the black pearl that is Heartbreak Heaven City.

It's semi-mythical river runs through a jungle
of grimy brickwork and choked smog -
a city that revels in its own pollution
so much so, it's many people suffocate beneath it's caustic fog.

And this river, of which I speak,
acts as a candle for the deaf and the blind -
no one would ever dare to live in this city
if it weren't for its promises of prosperity pushing them from behind.

Sometimes there's a brief lapse where the fog lifts,
and people sip the river's waters beneath a moonlit sky,
alas, they only end up gorging and passing out -
intoxicated, they fall into the shadowy depths to drown and die.

Oh, tonight I venture out to its miasmic bank,
sadness and anger so intense, my brain it burns and chars -

upon the twelfth stroke I will descend into it's surface,

and my soul will rise to the everlasting stars...

Time does canter forth,
as inky blotches stain the ground -
violent panic whizzes and fizzes
within this wonderland now ceasing to astound

for the Rabbit was late
and Luck has fantastically fallen at the final hurdle -
the fragile hope that did keep me going
is now starting to throw-up and curdle

for despotic ink oozes from the sky
bleeding woes and pities into the barren sands,
as the sun shines on, the shock settles in,
I wipe away the tears with shaking hands

t-trying to ignore the screams (oh the cries!)
as my family burn within our flaming home -
with a slight flick of a match
everything I have ever loved has lit up and gone

five corpses of the familiarity to which I've been accustomed (smoking)
drowned out by the new stories forged -
amidst the loss Death lounges, burping and bloated,
satisfied by the life that has been gorged

("Oh my that was stunning! Now what next, toffee pie or treacle pudding?")

alas my mind shatters //-

-- // CLATTERS //-

eensy-weensy shards that a-pitter-patters

to the stale ground -
the howling wind tortured cries of the living
searching for the deceased that are never found.

He gazes down upon his friend,
the latter's body mutilated and shredded -
he gazes down upon his deceased companion
staring straight at the loneliness he's dreaded,

he's a fighter, a sole survivor
ignorant to the moon above that grins -
he spits upon his hands and uses them
to wash away the blood splattered across his shins,

his valentine is the death
he's avoided for so so long,
having traversed these radioactive wastelands
his conscience is weak and his hunger strong

for now he constructs a fire,
a crude make-shift grill and spit -
hacking off his comrades arm, he leaves it to roast
and for a while all he does is sit,

'til finally he tucks into his tasty meal
of human flesh, gristle and bones -
eating another person simply doesn't phase him
and for more his stomach groans,

three days later his victim's corpse
lies barren, rotting and stripped bare -
no amount of muscle, flesh or fat to be seen
'xcept for a scalp still covered with hair

- - - Silence - - -

broken by the turbulent buzzing of the flies
that feast and swarm within the fighters mouth,
his body now lay dead and rotting
about twenty miles to the south.

Does one have to care about the intoxication of a man's desire
to simply mimic it's pathetic existence?
Can the foundations of a lone human soul, stand tall
devoid of the calloused knife that is love's persistence?

Should misinterpreted geniosity be denied of strength,
to be distracted by the limitations of compassion and respect -
why would one care about another's delinquent woes,
when he can have brilliant superiority and intellect?

Should any self-deserving man work the need to feel,
when really he could simply pretend -
why, would you cut the stork of a blooming Rose

if it were to suddenly grow, expand and extend?

To have the heart of a loyal friend, and of a lifetime's lover
is most honourable, a gift you could not beset -

alas, thy cold-hard heart of a killer is much stronger, for
if those relationships were to crumble, he could simply smile and forget.

Three thumbs,
an inverted nose -
the socket dilapidated and hollow
from which her left arm grows;

yet, quietly she breathes,
whilst her life-support machine hums,
chewing on her sixth finger
from a mouth with no gums.

The accidental off-spring
of one belated wife
and one related groom -
a nightmarish parody,
twisted from the bruises of a womb -

but, by miracle, she lives
crying from eyes that won't close -
a new-born child
with the face of a blackened rose;

and outside,
out of raging curiosity,
the whole world queues,
trying to see the baby in the little red shoes.

Would it be so bad if it dies?
Would it be so bad
not to hear its gurgling cries?

Or would you want it to live,
take away its self-respect,
just like a thief,
force it to live in a life
of ridiculing grief -

What would you choose
for the deformed child in the little red shoes?

I travelled straight west
to the epicentre of the southern wastelands
and 'twas with mind-numbing disbelief that
I found an Oak table propped upon the sands

and it was not alone either
for three beings sat it, seemingly nonplussed -
one was a skinny old man
wearing a linen suit faded and powdered with dust

his collar frayed around the edges
a moth-eaten hat sat upon his head,
he had a daisy poking from his breast pocket
so very much preserved, so very much dead,

to his left sat a one-eyed Hare
the sole eye ecstatic and wiggling -
he swore and blasphemed each time the man spoke
from a mouth toothless and dribbling,

sat to the right of the man
was absolutely (absolutely!) nothing,
however I observed with mild humour
that both man and Hare were convinced it must be something

for the man was profusely adamant
scorning the Something for dissing the Hare's hair,
although the Hare was too busy rolling around its one eye
to even notice the man, or simply give a fu- care

"Hey hey talk to I! Hath thou seen my missing eye?!"
Hare asked from a voice shrieky and shattered
saliva running in rivets
upon the table it slopped and slavered -

then suddenly the man started singing encore
his voice cringe-worthy, out of tune,
sounding like a cat back-broke and on steroids
rocking and waving like a spastic-loon;

"If Father Time has no end,
does he even have a beginning -
oh, if there's pain is there gain,
which one of us is it that's winning?"

alas, that's when my attention was brought to the mounds
of surgical needles cluttered on the ground,
feeling sickly aura lick the back of my throat
I started backing away without a sound

["Hey hey talk to I -"]

["If there's pain is there gain -"]

["Hath thou seen my missing Missing MISSING EYE?!!"]

#FLASH!#

the dystopian landscape around me melted
into a field of bloated poppies -

serene, scarlet and blinding 'neath the sun,
feasting upon our charred bodies.

AJ