I'm not taking a side
I think you're all daft
With words that deride
Afore and aft
It doesn't have to be snide
Trolling can be quite a laugh
But it lacks imagination
And creates an irritation
When you're ******* at it and use it as an excuse to just be nasty to each other and then you don't step away, and just keep arguing and arguing and arguing like you're in nursery, and nobody gets a solution because the whole thing is pointless and irrelevant and based on opinions that don't matter of people you will probably never meet and it's just so ridiculous I can't even end this sentence because of how ridiculous it all is and its made me forget about punctuation and sentence structure and everything because I'm annoyed at having to read such pointless ******* and I'm tired because here in England it's after midnight and I'm laid here reading ******* rather than sleeping when I just want to read some poetry aaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh and all I know is to make this line rhyme I need to end it in ation!!!

A rhyme about other trolls

Troll troll
You've got a big head
And you're made of stone
And you aren't red

Troll troll
You're in a film called the hobbit
And you're made of stone
And you're not a rabbit

Troll troll
You could be a rabbit
One made of stone
You could be red
Made of red stone
But you lack imagination
Like an Internet troll
Because you're head is made of rocks
And you were made by some sort of evil wizard or something
So at least you've got an excuse
Unlike people
Who lack imagination when trying to be a troll
Because they lack even the imagination of a troll
Who is actually a troll
But came in 6 movies rather than sitting behind a computer screen blaming other people for their loneliness

I'm off to fester in my own self pity, silently waiting to have my troll poem trolled by trolls who aren't really trolls. I'll be back tomorrow for more fun and games.

That's all folks!!

I was reading a dating profile...

"I wish I could find someone normal"
She says

I'm normal
I'm heternormal
Heterosexual
Young, Male, Middle class, White, Just normal
Not a minority - too normal
No label - just normal
People see me and just think "normal"
Too normal
I don't stand out - Abnormally normal

"Someone fun but normal"
She says

I'm fun
I'm funny
I'm a fun guy
With a toe covered in fungi
Your clothes would get flung high
While I passed on my fungi
I jest
I'm not just fun like a normal guy
I'm the best
I don't think or act like every guy
I'm a bit different I guess, to other guys
But I'm normal

"Why are there so many freaks?"
She says

I'm not a freak
I'm unique
I'm kind of a geek
I like antiques
I'm confident - I'm just meek
I'm slim, but I'm not weak
I draw and paint every week
I over critique
I go to this group where we speak
So, I'm different, but I'm normal... If you know what I mean.

"There must be one guy out there who hasn't got any problems??"
She says

I've not got a problem
I tend to overcome 'em
I take them down; I hobble 'em
Until it's not a problem
Give me risks and I gobble 'em
Solutions - I can cobble 'em
Unless I'm hurt - That can be a problem
It throws me off my thread
It gets stuck in my head
It throws me off my thread
I lose track of what I was thinking
"Why did she say that?"
It throws me off my thread
"That's not me is it?"
It gets stuck in my head
"Why do they think that?"
It throws me off my thread
"Am I meant to change?!"
It gets stuck in my head
"I don't want to be that anyway!!"
It throws me off my thread
"Why are we all meant to act the same?!"
It gets stuck in my head
"What's wrong with discussing it?"
It throws me off my thread
"I don't understand!"
It gets stuck in my head
"I want to know why you think that!"
It throws me off my thread
"Just *******!"

Next profile reads
"I'm looking for someone different. Let's take time and get to know each other."

I need to stop over thinking stuff.

Poem 8
A series of very short poems and non poems about the normal things in life

There was a scrunched up bit of paper
It sat in the corner of a room
It was Tuesday

A rhyme about cheeses
Brie, Brie, I love thee
Please won't you get into me
Camembert, Stilton and craft cheese slices
That last one is not the nicest

At 4 o'clock each day, he ran
Except on the days he didn't run
On those days he did different things instead

With a start, he woke
His vision still blurred from his nights sleep
The dawn had broke
At the end of his bed was a figure
As black as coke
Murmuring the words he dreaded
"Wake up, it's time for work!"

A car drove by.
It stopped at the light.
The Lights turned green.
The car turned right.

There's some water on the floor
I should probably mop that up
But doing that's a bore
So I'm just going to leave it

I just picked up a *****
When I rotate it in my hands covering both ends the thread seems to be coming out of my fingers.
But it isn't
And I need to fit this door handle

It's tea time
I was going to make salmon
But I'd don't have any in
So I'll make gammon

The sense of loss
Remorse
He's dead
The end of a long cold winter
His batteries are finally flat
I'll have to call the RAC

Building a wall
Don't let them fall
You need to overlap them all

There was a cat who sat on a mat
In the middle of September
The cat walked lazily from the mat
It was still September

The miracle of growth
From nothing to something
The surprise when you haven't seen them for a while
Then, there they are. Big heads smiling up at you
Then you squeeze the head between your forefinger and thumb and wipe away the **** with a tissue.

On
Off
Colour
White
Up
Down
Light
Dark
Night
Day
"Timmy,­ stop playing with that light switch! You'll blow a fuse!

Hiding in a corner of a darkened room
Eyes covered hoping he can't see me
I hear the footsteps growing closer
A shudder down my spine
Is this excitement or fear?
Then I hear my fathers voice outside
"Coming, ready or not!"

David Cameron goes to the loo
He doesn't suspect a number 2
He ends up with trousers covered in poo

A Christian man and a Muslim woman sat on a train
I question, why do they not speak to each other?
Is this about race?
Colour?
Language?
Religion?
Gender?
Personality?
Coincidenc­e?
And who is at fault?
Who is ignorant? Who is afraid?
The answer is neither.
They were in different carriages.
On different days.
In different parts of the country.
There was no realistic possibility of conversation.

Many people dislike violence
The pained screeching puts many off
But if you're brought up with it from a young age
You can really start to hone your use of violence...
Sorry, stupid autocorrect!! I mean violins!!!

He enters the house
She watches as he walks past without speaking
Just like every day
He does not offer her a cup of tea
He does not offer to cook for her
He doesn't even look her in the eye
She looks down at her food
A meal for one
Again
She is alone
So she tucks the food into her pouch and goes for a spin in the hamster wheel... Wheeeeee!!!

There's a surprise on the way
A bun in her oven
I'm scared it might be mine
She's crap at cooking

What light through yonder window breaks?
Tis the garage light of the neighbour opposite
I hate that c**t

Poem 6 edited
I know and understand the cynicism of most on this topic, but I can assure you that I have not invented any of this, so treat my poem with the seriousness it deserves.

It is a tale of forgotten events.

Things I'd pushed away from my mind as a child.

Things I did not believe we're real.

The dark.

The uncanny.

The Unknown.

I'll begin...

The Evil Tree.

To get to the gravestone we had to pass an old tree
One with a terrible history
A tale that ended, evilly

We walked through the dark woods toward the evil tree.
The mist hung the way it does normally,
but in an evil way.

The trees around the evil tree leaned away fearfully
Or some of them leaned towards the tree,
but less toward than they'd normally be
If it weren't an evil tree

The evilness of the evil tree
was so great that it hid it cleverly
By looking just like every other tree
But evil

Its roots were evil roots
Taking evil nutrients
That looked like other nutrients,
But evil

The evil nutrients fed the evil trunk
Like an evil woody chunk
Filled with standard sappy gunk
But evil

The evil gunk was in the branches too
The branches were evil through and through
They were deepest, darkest evil brown
With evil moss up and down
Swaying in an evil way
Like other branches day to day,
But evil

The branches followed on to the evil twigs
Twigs thinly evil; branches evilly big
Growing out ShArP AnD POINTY!
Like skinny arms, evilly jointy!!
But at the ends of these twigs...

Unlike ordinary twigs...

Were leaves,

BUT EVIL LEAVES!!!!!
Evil leaves!
EvIL lEaVEs!!!
Everywhere were evil leaves!
Some of them high in the trees!
Some of them were on the floor
And on the graves I saw yet more!
Evil green
And brown and red!
Many of them just lay down DEAD!

And if that were not enough...

I walked toward this evil tree
Unaware how evil a tree could be
As I bravely gained upon this pillar
I saw a hungry caterpillar
It was crawling in the normal way
Like caterpillars do every day

Slowly, it crawled
Creeping
Twisted and contorting its body
Edging ever closer
Toward me

I innocently reached down to pick him up

And that's when I noticed

The bite marks

In the leaf

An evil leaf!!

Time seemed to slow right down
I noticed too late, the evil brown!
I saw its evil greeny hue
And it's evil hairy back
Looking like other caterpillar do,
that don't give you a heart attack
Tick and tock
The time passed by
I saw the evil monsters eye
Raised upon an evil stalk
Wondering if he could scream or talk
What would he say?!

He'd say...

I'm an evil caterpillar
I will maim and devour these leaves
Not just the evil, the innocent too
Their life will be a tasty filler
And as their branchy mother greaves
She can watch me as I chew, chew, chew
Just like other caterpillars do
But evil!

And then I'll grow an evil cuccoon
One with plenty of evil room
And hang high in the evil branches
Where nobody would take their chances

Outside, it's still and eerie calm
Inside I start to dis embalm
Myself
I flay my skin
And then begin
To change
Evilly!!

And after many evil days
You think you've lost my evil ways
Until I break
I'm born anew
My evil body grew and grew
The most hideously evil things
A pair of pretty butterfly wings!
BUT EVIL!!!!!

And as I had this evil thought
I realised that I was caught!!
The caterpillar crawled on to my hand
But ...
strange enough I felt just grand!
There was not heat nor evil sting
Just this tiny little thing
I realised he wasn't evil
Less evil than a common weevil
I lifted high, held him aloft
When suddenly he fell back off!

I looked down on him, like a God
Lifted my foot and then I trod!

I now know what happened you see
He passed his evil on to meeeeeeeeee!!!!!!
Mwahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa!!!!!

Poem5
Into the Wilderness

Into the wilderness we went. Edhweirft and Hwyrflung swirled above us, blowing and bustling through the treetops. Watching. Threatening. But maintaining a safe distance as the trees protected us

Scrunch
Crack
Squelch
Scrunch
Crack
Squelch
... we went, as the gloam drew in. Druuuuuin!! Closer. Druuuuuuuuiiiiinnnn!!!!! Closer. It hugs, this gloam. It sticks. It holds. It cloys the mind with its drab-drab-grab. The breath is tight. It fights, for more, for freedom, to live, it must escape, but the gloam holds it inside you. The breath panics. It is afraid. It needs to be free. It escapes the mouth with a fight, then slowly raises up, toward the canopy. But it cannot swoop, it cannot flow. The gloam drags with a friction that burns and the breath is consumed within its mass.

Edhweirft is rattling in the branches of the trees above. Waiting for the gloam. Watching its vile, twisting display unfold. He watches. He sees. He knows. He understands. But Edhweirft is the trixter, the player of games, the jinxing Ju, the rogue andiggler. He is the north wind. He has no substance. He is force. He is energy. He wishes you to know that he is. That he lives. He is alive. He is life. He splits the gloam in 2.... Phoooooooshswipthwack! The gloam separates. It severs. It dissolves. It breaks down its density into its fractal construct. And the fractal shatters and chaos ensues. Dancing apart. It's essence. It's life glue. Dissolving. Dissipating. Fizzling. Sizzling. Fzzzzzz sszzzzzzzzzz......      
And the elements of its structure revel in the end of the gloams monarchy. This is despotism. This is revolution. This is chaos. This is beauty. Microscoppai scatter everywich. Hither und thither. It's chance now to create a New. This one Microscop. He is strong. His force pulls. His charm. His beauty. His power. His magnetism. It draws them to his new rule. A new form. A new structure. A fresh life. A gloam without the gloom.
Edhweirft continues to stalk. He is here. He is there. He shakes the trees as he comes in as if to break their hold on the sky and shake it from their rafters. He picks you up. He throws you to the ground. Then he moves on to his next victim, laughing in his breathy tones. Preparing and clearing the way. The way for his sister.
Edhweirfts sister, Hwyrflung, brings the TipTap. She is electrickery. She swoops with a crack and a bite. She brings the change. She creates the new. But first she destroys. She slices. Then nothing. Aaaaaooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!! She howls in delight. In the distance a tree sniiicpraks and falls down dead. Life gone. No more. This wise old tree. This rememberer of dreams. And play. Holding you high in his arms, protecting you as you climbed. No more. Goodbye old friend.
FizzzzzzzzzxxxxchchchccfrrdrdrffffrAAAAAKK!!!!
Another.
C­loser this time
TachooooooooommmmmmmAaaakakakrashhhh
The crack and the howl almost joining. Like great lovers drawn together at the moment of their deepest impending intimacy.
They wait, these two for little more than a fraction but the anticipating makes time slow down. As Hwyrflung watches they play their game, their dance. Fizzing and building their passion inside her deep black mass. Crackle... The first touch. Atoms rub. Heat generates. A light turns on deep inside. A light that aches for more. That aches for its release. Crackle pop. A short burst. Then recedes.

The wait.

...

The pause

...

The anticipation too great

...

Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhkkkkkrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaa­aasssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!
They erupt together as one! Light and sound. The power of their passion uncontrollable. A pure release, seeking its way towards its nearest destination. The place in can rest. The place it can seek its ultimate fortune. Life ending, life beginning, life changing.

And Hwyrflung hangs, still watching, but the passion of these two, so strong as it was, has sapped her strength and she falls to tears. The TipTap is gone, this is the Schoom. Heavy, thick and fast, draining her essence. Feeding it to the ground. For Hwyflung is not destruction, she is change. Her Schoom takes her pain and feeds its nutrients. It feeds budlings and saps and all the little scitterscatter looking for thirst. Until there are no tears left to cry and the TipTap returns.

Edhweirft swoops in to save what is left of his sister. He scoops her in his arms and whips her to safety in the canopy.

Out comes the God of the sky. He chases Edhweirft and Hwyrflung away with his warmth and smiles at their mischievery. He sends his Prysm through the TipTap, scattering a beautiful light.

And all is well.

We make our way through the wilderness and out, safely, to home.

Poem 4
I'm going to give this context by starting off reading my old match and pof profile. This is genuinely real.

It's always hard to know what to say on these things so I'm just going to fill my profile with exaggeration and nonsense.
I would describe myself as a cross between Brad Pitts character in fight club and a sensitive fireman who likes kittens. Overall I'm pretty awesome. Kind, intelligent, hilariously funny, better in bed than a mug of cocoa. I'm a bit of a geek really. As a kid I just used to love drawing and watching cartoons. I have a ten year old golem figure which is still in its box. It's ok though. It's multiposable. I grew up on a farm. If you go back far enough there are signs of inbreeding. Which is cool because I've got extra fingers to tease you with.
I had two lizards when I was little. Their names were e's and whizz after the pulp song e's and whizz which was apparently about drugs. Lizards aren't like drugs. They're just different. You can't take a lizard to get high. You could possibly try it with the right kind of frog but licking a lizard just makes you look weird. Plus if you tried to swallow one I suspect it would get stuck in your throat. The lizard wouldn't like that. Plus you'd probably get done for animal cruelty but it's ok because you'd have the excuse that you were just smacked off your t**s on Lizard. Anyway, these lizards kind of melted. This was real, not because I was on drugs. I didn't really know about drugs back then. I hadn't licked a lizard. Lizards aren't like drugs anyway, but we've already covered that, it's a bad analogy. Anyway, it was kind of sad watching them, I think I over heated the tank or something. But they had a happy life before that, I looked after them.
I think it's kind of an analogy for life though. You can spend your life worrying about your lizard. Buying it all the right food and keeping the temperature just right. But then you never really enjoy your lizard because you're too busy thinking about its food and it's heat. So, the alternative is that you just get on with things. Enjoy your lizards, crank up the heat and see what happens. I think life is better like that. Not for lizards though. Mine melted. You've got to keep their temperature right. It was a bad analogy.  

Yes, I'm still single... But on to the poem

An ode to online dating - AKA online dating is a lizard in a tank

When you go online, you're  a lizard in a tank
On your own in empty online spaces
Your pea sized brain has drawn a blank
From all the empty, passing faces
As this one passes she gives a grin
She taps your buttons, turns up your heat
Your eyes rotate, step foot to foot
You hope that she'll dip her hand in
Frill your neck and show you want to meet
But she swipes to the rabbit coz he's got a cute ****.

Some "customers" just go to look
Some are scared that lizards bite
Some of them, their nerves are shook
By a previous lizard fight
Some wonder whether they should buy
But think they might get something better
Some buy, then put you on the shelf
Some people think you're worth a try
But switch for something to make them wetter
Makes me reflect upon myself

People are creatures led my habit
Distracted by your Lizard brain
Looking for someone to share your maggot
To change your colours, You try in vain

My frustration is 2 things
1. People expect everyone to be the same
2. You get dragged into meeting an expected role

Muscles, protection, hair, humour, genuine, confidence, normal, drive, good job, nice clothes, nice house, nice car, nice things

Beauty, slim, eyes, *******, legs, ****, no baggage, easy going, don't argue, work hard, play hard, independence, no shame

What if everyone doesn't have to be the same and going for what you always go for gets you what you always got? I've got no answers to it all.

I'm going to buy a lizard instead.

Block Me (I Don't Think That you Get How All That Made me Feel About Myself)

We met online
We joked about all the crazy people
The ones you block
Like the girl who wanted to wear my wedding ring
And got her son to give me a ring
Before I'd even met her
Like the girl who turned up in the night on my block
Like the guys who send you all the pictures of their ****

But they're crazy people.
Not like us
We aren't the type you block

We met
We kissed
We did more than kiss
I got to know you
I won't block you
If you won't block me

We both had big issues going on
You said it was hard
But you liked me
I said I understood
I was going through the same
"Yeah, but not like me,
My ex just blocked me out"
"I understand, I've been hurt too
She was a bit like you
But she blocked me out
But I'll support you
Just don't block me too"

I said I was fragile.
I said I'd been hurt - I'd been round the block
I said I needed people to show me understanding, even as a friend.
To show me they cared even when I fall apart.
I said it would happen, right from the start.

I was there for you
I know I was
Not like just a normal friend
I gave you my time
I gave you advice
I gave you my thoughts
I tried to give you my dreams - but I blocked them out instead

I want to let go.
I just can't.
But I don't want you to block me.
I don't want to be the crazy person.
Just don't block me.

I say "I'm hurting"
You hear "you hurt me"
I say "you don't get it"
You hear "you don't care"
I say "I want you to show me you care"
You hear "I need you to love me"
I say "it hurts being so close but not knowing how you feel"
You hear "I don't care what's going on in your life, you should want me anyway"
I say "I need to step away, you should block me"
I mean "I need you to tell me you care about me. I feel like I'm not good enough. I feel like I'm trapped in a revolving door, going round and round. I can't move forward because I care about you so much. I can't pull away because I'll miss you so much.
I can't suggest more because you'll pull away.
I can't suggest friends - I'm unhappy that way.
The only way out is to not see you
or to see you and hurt.
But I don't want you to love me.
I just want to know that you care.
That I matter.
That you're there.
When I need you.
And you aren't doing that.
And I'm hurting so much.
I want to handle it.
But I can't.
I don't want to make you hurt.
Only I need to hurt.
So block me."