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Poetic T Apr 2021
God was the homicide
               that killed a whole world
over his jealousy of man's will not to

bow to his corrupt virtues..

He had planned every life and every sin
                  was his masterful collusion with the devil.

For both were one and all, two sides of a coin
                that always landed on its edge

and no one was the winner.

Definitely, a man or woman who thought they
             were a creation of purity.

But if they were a creation of the beginner,

The end was always a plan to fail like an image,
          it was never perfect but a delusion
of a copy that like its original
            corrupted by ego.

As it knew every breath, but still sent every baby
to the hell of inescapable torment.
                   As it was its plan all along.

That no souls reached its peace,
but the torture that it watched on its throne
           above and sighed,,,

That this was its creation, an image of self...

And it knew it was the master of every moment,
                       and they all  leads to hell.
Apr 2021 · 671
An Accidental Near Murder
Poetic T Apr 2021
Even though you could feel it
                     fathomless than your soul.

We glimmered into each other's lagoons,
            and for that finite moment we
swam within the moment of the
   past,
          future,


present.

That even though you were
                bleeding out, we knew that
we were one the blade, you, me


                          us.....

I didn't pull it out,
as I knew id lose you.
               Instead, I shredded my shirt,
    collected it around the wound
that was never meant to be.

I was a killer of many dreams,
            but you were the reality that
awoke me to the possibility of u and me.

As u bled out we wrote a story of what was,
   could have been...

911 was our ring tone of love,

And the ambulance was the church bells
             of our blisful joyning.

When the investigation of our meeting was
                                                                ­    over.
We were together,
the scars of both united of us,
                                that we were meant to be.

But love has many sharp edges and we both
           had a blade under our pillows..

Sweet dreams were  balance on serrated edges
Apr 2021 · 507
Suicide Metapohrs
Poetic T Apr 2021
The restrictions upon my self
worth, never the right, write,
              wording, metaphor

of what I wish to show you, u, me.

That even though I don't cry or
                scream, I'm swaying

every sentence I write, right to  
the point that there was never
a chair to hold words.

Instead, I bleed my word, pain
with every stanza that collected
beneath holding me up.

Until I wrote so much that there
wasn't just air beneath me but solid
              meaning wanting to
hold me higher than that which
may make me fall...
Poetic T Apr 2021
She was never the one,
   I wanted her to be...

Giving her all of me,
   never asking for a thank you,

or even do you want me....

All I wanted was the smile,
   the curvature of her lips to
say I like to be with you...

But I couldn't feed the hunger of
  my heart with the maybe's

She was never the one,
   I only fixated on her curvature.

Giving in to my insecurities
  never asking if I was the one.

or even that I mattered to her.

All i wanted was to be loved.
   The curvature of her heart to
mirror the image of what id

         imagined our love to be.

Bee stung in the reality that i
    wasn't her nectar,
more the annoyance that she'd settle
for to sting
I was a ****,
  never the flower....


Only the one swotting her away
awaiting to
    be


stung...
Apr 2021 · 559
One For The Many
Poetic T Apr 2021
Whoever thought the fly was the prey,

never thought it was a diversion..

The sacrifice of one
                                         for the many...

So many wings flying through threads...

till the spider free falled to the death

                                            of inevitable fate...
Apr 2021 · 300
Untitled
Poetic T Apr 2021
Never
expect
anything,
but always give everything.
Apr 2021 · 474
Untitled
Poetic T Apr 2021
No one will ever
understand you unless...
You let them swim
in the reality of what
you swim,
or drown
            slowly in..
We all swim in the same ocean.
Poetic T Apr 2021
We had a shelf life,
an existence that we
        played like a broken

fiddle, out of tune...

But now every string is either
          broken, worn beyond its
reproductive rhythm.

Were not creating  vibrant
        versions.

Just broken, collages that
are just not a complexity

        more a diluted, infertile

copy
        broken and substituted

never to be the real thing..

humanity is just a fading shadow,
    fading under the unrelenting

sun of reality....
Apr 2021 · 588
No More Sweet Dreams
Poetic T Apr 2021
I could never count stars
  as they were always shooting
point-blank at my forehead...

Hollow point dream killers,
   my eyes open pools of despair..

                       The night shone,
within the white pools,
   non-reflective reproductions of

desperation..

Every sheep that jumped over
that
       hedge...


Face hugging the granite of my
                dried up lake of sweet dreams..

I'm still awake....
Mar 2021 · 157
Correct-ish For The Other
Poetic T Mar 2021
Attention to detail,
              always looking as if everything
was motionless.

But you were the equation that
was never composed.

Mismatched from the start,
        I was always motionless
   but you were eloquent.

Never one to play by the rules
                         of others that were around you.

Never listening to the motions
                             that others considered normal.


You were ninety degrees from any normality.
              And through every angle you never

attached to the normality of society.

                  i said yes when you asked if I'd be your confusion...


Were mismatched from the start,
                    but what's the fun
             if we were correct for each other
Poetic T Mar 2021
This is mostly based on the true-ish happenings of
Beth Huges was born in the 80s, her parents
called her Lizzy for short well that would explain
a few things. Her upbringing was more in the 70s
then the 80s. Her parents were new-age hippies but
with the chemical abuse of the 80s.

They were vegans, nothing on land was to be sacrificed
for the fulfillment of their needing only organic substitutes.
  They'd eat from the Ocean as that was the well of life
and always giving and in a continuous replenishment cycle.

Not knowing, she was repeatedly dosed with LSD.
to open the spiritual aspects. But Daddy had a bad trip.
            And wore mummies face saying she was
talking through him.

The cops didn't see that way and vented his body with
                           at least nine new breathing holes...
She was still high as daddies blood spayed over her and
she finger painted on the floor.

She'd lived with relatives but this didn't last long as they
were meat-eaters and she had a vast disdain for all who
murdered and disfigured the life of the land.
   Her auntie was a vegan, so realized the pressures.
   But as she got into her older years having episodes.
of repressed trips. Glaring at the walls and painting in
her own blood.
It hit a moment in her twenties when she caught
her auntie giving head to her new boyfriend..

She was disgusted as she heard her call it "the meat,
             distrustful of her auntie and she'd desecrated
the law of her body, after she pleaded no meat.

While her auntie was being contaminated she put
sleeping tablets into their drinks after the *****
inducing acts had finished and she came out of
the room wiping her mouth.

                     "Here guys I made you a drink,

She played it cool reading a book until they
fell unconscious. She was reprehensible that
                   what was being done was right.
Pulling down his joggers she got some
scissors and grabbed it, momentary she put
it in her mouth, it was soft and she felt a sturring
and gagged... with one fatal swipe she cut it off.
throwing this maggot in the fire, Burn filth...
Her auntie lied there silent, her breath deep.

"How could you,

Even though she has momentarily engaged in
                pleasures of the flesh.

She went into the cupboard and found a cleaner,
             the warning on the side said corrosive
wear gloves.

She stroked her aunties hair and then tipped the
entire bottle down her throat to clean the desecration
from her.
All that was heard was a curdling and then froth
expelling from her nostrils and mouth...
She got a cloth and wiped her mouth, even though
doing this had murdered her auntie, she still loved her.
Now she was clean from the manmade contamination.
    Pure once more, the acid mixed with her stomach acid
creating a pungent smell as it was eating through her side.

A pool of blood and partly digested food bubbled
on the floor, it started to eat through the laminate flooring.
At that very moment, she heard screaming incoming on
her kneeled position.
As she turned she saw the half-naked bleeding profusely boyfriend. In his anger, he never saw the pool of corrosive remanence of his departed girlfriend.

Scissors raised and ready for vengeance, he lurched
losing his balance and landed face down in the
bubbling maroon stench.
Lizy scrambled to her feet, ready to run.
Instead, she screamed as he got up and turned around.
The flesh was peeling off, as he grabbed at his now dissolving
features. The shock was too much as she passed out.
A while had passed and as she awoke she went to move
but the scissors were interred in her hair.
Her scalp felt wet, as she touched the area, red liquid coated
shaking hands. She put her fingers in her mouth and tasted,
yes, it was her blood. she pulled at the scissors and they
wouldn't dislodge as they were firmly embedded in the
laminate flooring.

She had no other option but to yank her hair out,
******* that hurt, she had a blad patch where
the hair follicles had pulled away.
Her head spinning, but as she turned around there
he was still, his face no more just white, with patches
of blood his hands around his throat.

She got a hand towel and threw it over his featureless
remanence, and then saw the disemboweled auntie.
If it wasn't for the middle missing dissolved all over the
floor, you'd think she was sleeping.

Lizzy had to think fast, how could she get out of this?
But it was easy, she'd heard shouting and saw her
auntie come out with scissors, soon after her boyfriend
came out blooded, she saw me and told me to hide.
As I watched he grabbed her dragging her to the
cupboard unscrewing a bottle with his mouth,
then pouring it down the struggling auties mouth
at that moment I ran at him pushing him away as her  
auntie convulsing. We struggled but he was too strong.

It was at that moment he grabbed the scissors lifting me up,
he lost his balance and that the last I remember before waking
up with my hair pinned to the floor by the scissors.

The flashing lights were so bright in the darkness as I was huddling it to the waiting ambulance.
Crocodile tears poured from my eyes.
I told my story, it was worthy of an Oscar.
There on the stage, thanking the gullible audience.

As I walked from the courthouse, tears flowing thanking
everyone for their condolences and wishing me well.

I looked in the mirror as I saw my aunties face,
wearing it like my daddy wore mummies.
sprinting at the policeman at the door I got him
in the neck. Shots echoing out into the dark night.

They must have been alerted by the screaming,
can't people just die quietly? I ran into the night.
Not been found yet, but I kept the scissors.

I go after men now, I'm quite pretty for being so
crazy. I offer them ****** favours for drinks,
I always make sure they have a car, that's a must.
My favourite trick is getting them to drive to a secluded
spot offering them head-on their bonnet.
somewhere we will not be disturbed.

It's amazing how gullible men are when they think with
there meat instead of there brain.
I found this awesome pen that's a tasar, telling them
I'm leaving my signature and number, so if they liked it
they knew where to look if they wanted more fun.
Its quite funny the gurgling scream they make when
you zap their ball bags, they crumble like wet paper.

Kind of pathetic really.  Now we alone and there quite,
snip, snip some do take two chops you know.
Then into the woods or the dirt side of the road.
But I learnt from my first time, cut the femoral attire
in the leg, that way they stay down some did come to
but a was driving away by then I heard their
screams and I smiled. Of to the next town now I think
Driving while its dark is better I sell their belongings
in a pawn shop to raise money the dead cant report
their belongings stolen after all. I just tell them there
my ex. They don't really care about where it came from.

I like my new  hobby, at last count I'd snipped fourteen
of them and I still have my auntie with me I wear her
sometimes just to feel close to her.
her pa
Mar 2021 · 139
Teapot& The Teabag
Poetic T Mar 2021
Dipping his teabags over her,
                      as she whistled in delight.

Brewing for a while more,
    she could taste them better,

as they'd double-dipped
           for that just-made taste.
Mar 2021 · 391
Cement Boots...
Poetic T Mar 2021
You were the cement boots around
my ankles and I would sink beneath
your gaze screaming as I sank to the
                                                  bottom.

I saw the others the ones who failed
your questioning, your mind games
of unconscious action and reaction.

But with me, I screamed in laughter,
as I knew that you'd always let me
drown enough to be conscious of
                       your ever-changing needs.

We were the lime and the sand,
our words the water that would be
mixed together. We would be concrete
           metaphors of each other's needs..

And I found it slightly ***** when you
tried to metaphorically drown me in
                                       your mind.
I always learnt some depth to you the
                         longer you let me drown.
Poetic T Mar 2021
I had a star, my own a mark of who I was,
but it wasn't like the ones in the heavens,
                   never shining bright.

It was on my arm a symbol of who,
                        what I was classed as.

They never thought I was anything.
  I'd fell hard from the heavens,
and
                           now I was in hell..

   My Mother & Father were
smiling at me as if nothing was wrong
as if this was a new normal,
            even as we were separated.

They never cried, but smiled.
Taken to this room, there were a few
of them, I heard the screams,
   saw the smoke billowing from
upon high.

But they just smiled, motioning
silently with their mouths.

                       " We Love You,

I never saw them after that,
   young but not naive.
Hearing rumors before I'd
      been taken from my home.

Even as we left, or shall I say relocated.
Intruders moving in, laughing as we were
taken from our ancestral home.

Generations had grown up moved on,
it was a home of a hundred smiles.
    But now we were just shedding tears
as we  were torn from our foundations
our home.

I see the children lying in the snow,
laid bare, bodies like the bare branches...
  contorted silent.
But at least their tears are silent...
        their pain evaporated like their last breath.

Not like the new arrivals, there's not much space,
  Broken down to useful or not...
      I saw a parent lead away screaming,
     some even shot as the **** of their womb
is taken to the smoking house...

You hear tears, then the wails of why's...
then silence, a silence that makes you *****,
even though you haven't eaten in days,
you're sick to your stomach and cry dry tears...



Rest in peace, my friends....

I was exhausted, frail, and malnutrition
   eating away at me.. I was lead away,
  my friends just looked down as they
knew where I was going I was garbage
to abandoned and reduced to dust.

Hearing the wheels turn, I had laid bare
that this was time, others cried screamed
I just sat there.

   Dying with pride, without giving them
the satisfaction of my tears.
   As we started to burn,
explosions words unheard in a long time.

And the door swung open, melting silhouettes
ran then fell. I was lucky I was at the far end,
Lighty burnt I ran out naked and alone into the
arms of a serviceman who covered me with a
blanket.

His words still in my thoughts every day.

                            "Your safe now child,
Poetic T Feb 2021
I wish you were here, next to me in the moments
before the church bells, we called them that for they
fell ever hour, and when the bells tolled there were
the ones that never got up, silenced as every bell tolled.

But your home sitting in the roust, keeping mother safe,
keeping her from the truth, I still write letters from Robert,
she was her favorite,  we all know that.
                                              But he took a shell to the face....

We wept for five minutes straight, he was the strength between
us but now were the strength between us
                                                              ­          keeping each other safe.

We buried him beneath a bush, we gave him grace.
               then we walked on knowing it wasn't  about him
or us, but those that depended on the messages we carried
like a dove flying to that peaceful place.


We got there before the many fell. we lost one but saved
                 the many that would have been RIP's

but know breath for a moment more,
                               not falling for now in this place

"Dear mum,

Robert is keeping us in order, were not missing a step,
he says don't worry as he'll take a bullet before one of us.
He asked if you could say a prayer, saying a thank you
                            to the Lord for keeping us all safe.

We march on tomorrow to the place they call the tomb,
but dont worry we have Robert
                                        looking over us to keep us safe.

Dear mum, if we don't all come home just know
were with you now.
     And as we take every footstep

                          were one closer to home.
Jan 2021 · 761
The Hoggle That Could Hoot
Poetic T Jan 2021
This fella or
                      was it a lass?
  the compelling
         question to ask?

This unique one, with a hoot.

No, it didn't bark
                            or woof or even
meow,
                  or blow bubbles like my fish,
                                  Pop!

It never spoke a word
            or a sentence.

You could speak to it,
  can you understand my
     soft words?
   All you heard back was
                          the hoot.

Was that a yes or a no
                          or a maybe?

short and sweet,
                  or long and soft.
I couldn't tell but I thought and
shrugged my shoulders thinking,

                                   "oh' well,

My name, never mind what's yours?
                         it gave a hoot.  
So I said you look like a hoogle to me?

What's a hoogle you say,
well it's what
     this hoot looks like most of all.

    But really I just made it up.
                           "Shhhh our secret,
                 that's what it is a hoolgle

And you know what it gave out a happy
hoot,
                i think it likes its new name.

But remember if you meet this unique
   one, with a hoot.

No, it didn't bark
                            or woof or even
meow,
                  or blow bubbles like my fish,
                                  Pop!

But it will merrily walk
    and just hoot all-day and did I mention

it hoots in its sleep?
    That's why I'm awake writhing
Dec 2020 · 1.3k
What We Grew From
Poetic T Dec 2020
Never forget the root that fed you,

for no matter the height you attain

remember the earth beneath your feet..

No matter your height,

                       you forget what
    you grew from...


you'll easily fall and no one will hear it.
Nov 2020 · 561
Man Boobs
Poetic T Nov 2020
I was told I had nice ****,
         but they were a tad on

the hairy side...

A Woman can be so judgmental..

they aren't sagging,
                            and yes I may be an A cup,

but anything is more than a waste to my wife..
Nov 2020 · 533
What Made Me An Atheist
Poetic T Nov 2020
What made me an atheist!!

I get the question a lot!!

And my reply isn't for the
                               faint-hearted

Giving back in return what the
         the priest gave me but in return.


                            Over the alter,
all you heard from his lips where
             profanities!!!

Oh Jesus,
          ****** it!!

holy mother of god!!

    He took the bread and his ****

drank the wine...

And I thought if a man of the cloth could
           say the lord's name in vain so much
how could there be a lord if

he was blasphemous to such a degree...

I left him tied to the alter, a cross down
his throat... swallowing his faith,
             but his god couldn't save him...

I did the sign of the ******* as I left....
Nov 2020 · 790
Wishes do come true.
Poetic T Nov 2020
Never be what some one
             wishes you

To be.

Be the genie,
and show
    Them your wishes.

Trust, friendship & empathy.
Nov 2020 · 846
I Walked My Dog
Poetic T Nov 2020
My dog its name is Gizmo with a capital G, he isn't
very tall and not very long. He's very playful doesn't
always listen to what he's ever told. But it's like his name,
as others have said so. If somethings missing the blame
would always be on him, to this hairball this is just a game.

His favorite season for walks is when autumn comes to call.
The puddles on the floor and the leaves on the ground, all
he wants to do is be playful in the heaps of color and crawl.
Beneath them playing hide and seek, but he is always so
easy to find, following his lead a tail-wagging to and fro.

He never misses a puddle, his hair soaked, and has very
muddy little toes, chasing all the birds, but he's not scary
at all. They fly away squawking and he just looks at me
then runs around again chasing nothing at all. We see
in the distance home letting off the lead, he runs in glee.

Towel now around him, drying him quickly off. As his wetter
than a puddle. Shivering we give him a cuddle, feeling better
he now falls asleep upon his bed. Five minutes of peace before
he gets his energy back, and then a zoomy around the floor,
and then I'm like, has anyone seen my sock?      Gizmo!!
Wrote this for my youngest daughter :)
Nov 2020 · 367
Swings That Were Static
Poetic T Nov 2020
There was a swing that the unhappy
                        people swung upon..

they were most happy when instead
of the too and frowning

It was static,

    They stayed there awhile.
Nov 2020 · 506
Tied Like A Maroon Bow
Poetic T Nov 2020
Is it the radio or the silence,
             or the music in your head on repeat
Does that drown the monotony of
                       replayed silence that's
never-ending like the road traveled upon?

But we never question who the hell is driving
                       us to this place that
we never even questioned.

Are we on cruise control
                 lost in our thoughts,
wrapped like a bow around a tree?
Nov 2020 · 413
Unchanging Tempo
Poetic T Nov 2020
Chronology were neither
at the point of no return
                          or a way back.

What's perplexing in the narrative
is that neither can be changed,
                     as were in neither
but the  momentary



      fluctuation of either
Nov 2020 · 478
Regulated Contortions
Poetic T Nov 2020
Deteriorated configurations that are
neither of consecutive methods
                                             or contorted reflections,
it's upon the eye line of those who look perplexed.

For what is slumped like tired unimportance,
is neither an inflexible road,
for nothing is
               either invariable or contorted
It's just a view that each takes.

                                Me I'm like the reed,
both woven in a paradox
of motions.
For who sees a contortionist
   that's neither of each
                                     or the other.

Riffling upon the aspects of my decisive
                            displacement that catches
nither the truth or the lie.
  
You  may catch the second,
                        or minute,
        but beyond the mirco filaments
that linger between variable glimpse
that pass.

Is more than constructive  tendrils
           of a lifetime of consequential
amendments or defaming the
              consequential understanding
that nothing plays by the rules..
Nov 2020 · 350
Knee Down, Recycled Breath
Poetic T Nov 2020
The voice of many is all one. it doesn't matter
the flavor of our skin with coffee,
                      we milk, were caramel.

Were all different tastes but some think
because our tastes are different
that they can throw the cup down
                             crush it under the knee..

We aren't recyclable we may taste different,
                 but doesn't mean you can crush
any of us under afoot
                                 or knee.

were all in this together if one falls, we all fall..
Poetic T Nov 2020
Well this has a deflating feeling but
                         a pumped upending.  

There was a little one, he was always
kicked around, but they were the best
of times, boot or hand he didn't mind.

Scuff marks marking his features,
   every now and then washed off
Mudd crusted between stitches.

If he felt a little deflated they'd
be positive pumping him up full
of air once again.

It was him and them for a time,
  but it moves on.
He went out less and less,
  it was summer and he went
           out once.
Sitting on the windowsill
wishing to between the blades
of grass. at the end of a foot and
                   a goal post.

Not being kicked and thrown
around, then it got real, he was
put in the shed empty not feeling
the air between his stitches anymore.

Then he heard voices in the back,
   don't worry you have friends,
Were all a little deflated in here?
I think some of us were mislaid.
Forgotten by mistake or we like
to think that. Hi, I'm seasonal, I'm beach.
Now I'm just missing the sunshine.

I got a puncture, I wasn't as floaty
anymore, I was their favorite  seaside
friend, you see they fixed my bobo.
I don't leak anymore, but they didn't
fill me up or throw me again.

I was put in here for another time,
but I only see them when they are
looking for lost things, but not me.

Meet tennis and his sister,
there a right pair, one always going
over the net, the other hoping that  
the other would hit so they could
feel the air bouncing between the
                            racket and them.

The racket was in here, but never talked
just time pulling at his strings,
sagging as if a smile hanging upside down.

We have been in here a while,
  don't know how long, we just
chat about the fun times before.

So they told each other stories wondering
what it would have been to be the other.
Laughing and joking at the possibility
of either hit by a boot or floating so high
in the air,  as if they'd never hit the ground.

Time passed and one day the family all
came to the shed, older than before.

Oh my gosh, I remember you guys..

Mum, I found the beachball, oh my gosh
he's still got his kitty plaster on...
They pumped him up and he went in to
the air, he could feel the heat of the sun,
and it felt right again.

They grabbed me I was a little shrunken,
  And the boy now a man, oh my gosh..
I thought I lost you, they pumped me up.
He did tricks with me, on knee head and
foot, wow he's got better as time passed.

Then racket came out with tennis and his
sister, what shall we do with these,
   Oh' no they thought are going to end up
in the trash.

But they saw racket tightened his strings,
and then the yellow siblings where smacked
against the wall, they smiled at the noise and
the feel of Racket upon them again.

The sun was beaming and everything felt
like before. But then they were put into
the car with other objects, a vase slightly
chipped, but beautiful anyway.
Books, with folded pages, what stories
they could tell us, another time anyway.

We traveled a while, hearing noises
outside, And handed to another,
don't worry we'll find them a new home.
We were put on shelves, price tags stuck
to us, we were left behind pieces that
others didn't want to throw away.
But finding us a new home, racket and the
twins were first to go,
                    at least they weren't separated.

A new face taking them home cuddling,
holding them tight, a home was found.
Then it was beaches turn, a little girl with
her mummy, she saw the kitty plaster and
was smitten. She threw him in the air
i could see him smile at the thought of
once again being thrown again.

Me I was the last, I was asleep didn't even
realise that I'd even been sold.
Rudley awoke to a foot in my face.
what the, and I could feel the air between
my fibers, I could see children and more
of me being kicked around.

I was among others as laughter and glee,
as we were kicked and thrown, it felt like
home again, not the one before but a new
one I was inflated and gliding between posts,
back of the net, and out again.

Home is where ever you feel needed,
and never let yourself feel deflated as
we are all useful in our own way.

I have to go as I have fourteen children
chasing after me, and there I go.
boot to me and in the air, I fly again.
Nov 2020 · 437
One For The Fallen
Poetic T Nov 2020
He was young, and by that hardly
able to shave, they thought he
was arrogant, not brave beyond his years.
   But he knew that sacrifice for what
                     was just and right.

He sailed the sea, throwing up overboard
                    feeding the fishes.


Never taking the bus, young ones
crying missing home.
But don't take their tears for cowards,
                they fell like petals fighting a worth.

But for him,  he'd rather walk showing worth.
           His mother, she cried,
bro, staying strong while I'm away.
Taking the burden of home cos too younger to follow.
He'd said if I fall,
                                    know I did it for us not me.

Poppy was on my chest, as we fought,
       We  had three brothers, they smoked
and joked but anyone from the other side played us,
                         they'd put across in his chest.
Dead but respected, no one buried but anger
                                                and respect blurred.

We lost henry to a ******, couldn't  bury,
just put a petal on his chest.
   We teared up, as we walked on,
took his angel out clipped their wings
    they ain't taking anyone with them.

Henry earned his petal, as we looked back,
         but we walked on.
Across broken buildings and bodies,
   we respected everyone we passed.

Sign of the cross, move on friend
                   and enemy you're at rest.
We carried our guilt of henry over the hill,
                            but then an injured soldier.
Delerium had taken hold, Allen got a knife
between the ribs, pierced his heart before his
next beat he was dead.

The soldier crying thinking he'd saved us,
    Allen had a tear falling on his dismayed features.
                  Edwin punched him in the face,
but we held him back.
            He gathered his composure noting that
this wasn't his fault.

We said thank you for your sacrifice, and he pasted,
                            Edwin gave him a swift kick.
  What he'll not feel it, I know the confusion
but Allen was his friend.

We put a petal on his chest closed his eyes
so he didn't see the rest of the war
                       with eyes wide open.

After this, I and Jeffery were called back for the
the final push, on the beach of gold and blood.
  We looked at each other and shook hands as
                       the boards fell, we ran, I must rewrite
this as we were the first to land and Jeffery was
the first to fall, he was my last brother, I just stopped.

They were treading upon me, but all I could see was my
friend's smile, grinning at deaths touch, proud he was here.
Seeing the fear and pride in his eyes as a single
tear fell. I picked myself up and put a petal on him.

Thinking this was my last day, a petal left on my
chest if I fell who would put one upon me.
   Nevertheless, we won the day. I have scars.
              physical and mentality I lost a lot.

Got home, saw my girl she was grown up,
             happy that my love waited for me,
We lived a long life, we had more than one
         who gave us pride.

2020 I lived through another century,
    Standing proud, as I lift a palm straight
                                            to my brow.
A single petal still standing proud,
                 As I gaze I see three figures approach,
pinning the other three petals upon my chest.

They raise there hands and swipe,
                          you respected our fallen.
And on every petal was a message and a name.
     You gave everything to them and now we give it back.


I cried tears as when I looked beside me,
                        my friends were there smiling.

And we stood to attention,
                              for our lives and deaths.
We saw what was and the sacrifice of what
                           we all paid the price for,


                                                          ­     Freedom
this made me tear up, :(
Nov 2020 · 284
Static Branches Bare
Poetic T Nov 2020
Intervals depicted by woefully
                        stark sights.

Tombstone branches drape
              over the division
of essence.

That now clings to the earth,
  moved on by the breath around.


I see them grazing in the air,
a corpse  of what was warm.

Now showing the frigidness
                          of what is upon us.

Mourning the beauty of what was,
         and I look up at the tombstone
branches in reverence.

Awaiting the time when life wavers
          above me once again.

And then I will smile, for now,
       I slumber within my

stark contemplations.
Nov 2020 · 582
Morrows Weaving
Poetic T Nov 2020
labyrinths of interwoven
                            time..

Cling on the dawn of morrow.
       unseen until the rigor of seasons.

I gaze out and splendor at the
     entanglement interlaced
before my eyes,

                            and smile.
Nov 2020 · 409
Confectionary Delights
Poetic T Nov 2020
A woman is somewhat like
   confectionaries.

If she takes a Twix,

    be it one or both.

Well then, you are in luck.

But if she is a Kit-kat,
    and takes every finger.
Then by all accounts my friend
who at best is a mar-bar at worse
     a pack of Rolo's.

Well, you're not touching the sides.

With that in mind, the tongue is wider
        and can taste a woman much better. :)
Nov 2020 · 339
Memories Are Like Breathes
Poetic T Nov 2020
Can we hold a breath,
some are like dandelions.

The seeds may disperse,
  and we may try to clasp
             upon them.

We may tenure a few,
   but nevertheless
only certain animations
     may linger.

But even though we
   may lose so many.

The ones we have will
           grow, and even
though some dissipated
beyond our reach.

A flower of
   memories breathe on
in the wind
   flourishing brighter

                      than before.
Nov 2020 · 305
A Spot That Was To Be More
Poetic T Nov 2020
There was once a spot,
some would say he was charcoal
others would say it's got to be coal.
then you would have the, no its dark grey.

But we'll let you decide that for now.

The spot was on the page all alone,
   he filled up quite a portion of the page.
But it's not fun being alone, so he thought
instead of a spot ill become many dots.

So slowly what was one became two, three
smaller and smaller did spot become.
After quite a time, the spot was no more but
dots sprinkled over the page, they all looked
at each other the many but still alone.

So they decided to connect slowly the large dots
shrank as they lined from one to 100.
It took a while but now they were connected.
still their individual selves but now not alone.

But the funny thing is, that when we connect
things, we see more than before.
They didn't realize that from a spot to a dot
then united. They Painted a picture, you
may ask of what could a giant spot becomes.

Well ill tell you, it had a waggy tail, four legs,
and one of the cutest barks. He ran around
the page, some dots shock loose.
landing in the middle spread out but
close enough not to be alone.

They wondered for a while what they were till
they went "Woof, Oh my gosh were a dog,
a puppy to be exact. And with that they came
up with a name, they did a vote that was only fair.
All wanted one, but you have one always
                             wanting something esle.

Well the vote was in the many had thought and
pondered, now they knew who they were going to be.
Drum roll please....
      Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat ratta-tatta-tat-tat.
And there name was to be Spot the dog,
   except the one on our ear.

He shall be known as bob.

After he had a zoomy, scuffing the edges of the
page, he settled down, ok after he'd chased his
tail just this once more.

So the story goes from one to the many,
to be more than they'd ever wished before.
We have Spot the dog and Bob the spot.
    And if your careful and don't make a sound.
You can peek through the door and see spot
running around the page, chasing his tail
and barking in the excitement that he's now more.
Oct 2020 · 967
Hand On His Head
Poetic T Oct 2020
They think that cos they wearing badges that
its power, feeling it be like they wild west.
          thinking they catching outlaws.

When they the ones letting the shots hit unarmed
                                           hands on his head.
but they not moving as he shouted gun.

It wasn't even a mobile, they just trigger happy
                       in blue as the family was in black.

Tears aren't bringing his last word back,
                       Mum, Daddy,
last cherished thought his baby girl.
Tears fell silent as they had knees on his neck,
                         what the **** he dead
yet you thinking he needs cuffs,
                                   morality took a side step.

No one is on their knee no more,
         hands held at height trying
to reach the fallen to show that they
still being reached for.

I promise we ain't forgetting any fallen,
       we'll reach high walking the streets.
   They ain't holding pistols to this many.

Hands-on heads showing peaceful metaphors,
          we shouldn't have to be scared
of a badge that's meant to protect
                               not a knee on a neck.


Or a gunshot on an unarmed person,
                   due to his demographical heritage.
                     another fell like a tree in a forest.

But every flower has a camera and nothing
falls silently anymore.
Oct 2020 · 388
Whispering Others Sorrows
Poetic T Oct 2020
She was silent a mute, or so they thought.
            Butterflies would frequent her abode.
Dancing around a kaleidoscope of words fluttering
around her, she was like a lantern in the dark
           and they seemed to be drawn to her.

But where colour was imbued above,
below in unseen hollow spaces,
                    there were remnant glimmers.
Fragmentation's of what was but deathly hues
enveloped in the frigid cadaverous silence.

There was no flying from where they'd fell,
                like autumn's leaves falling off the
tree of life now they were obscurity.


No one knew that she was able to talk,
          but she was an empath,
   collecting the negativity of those
                                           around her.

Everyone thought she was in a mood.
                   She'd just look at them with sad eyes.
But she played it cool to everyone around her.

They're all happy but she whispered all
             the woes of every word expelled,
she tried to play it cool..

But when she told the butterflies what she knew they
            feel frigid, cold.
   They wanted her company, but they hid under her
               bed hiding the depression that fractured

there every movement.


She always tried to show positivity,
     but the shards cut her feet underneath her
                              bed.

But above was rainbows where beneath the
                  fragmentation of emotions screamed.
Poetic T Oct 2020
I argue with you so much,
           I'll be no victim to your rules...

So why you preach that you'll be there
        when you ain't here,
two thousand years absent,
                                  
                                    Father problems..

No, you were never a father,
            more like a ghost of wishful thinking.

But I'm now not confused,
          I went through a depression,
  
But now I know the only faith I need is inward,
             I've been here before and
   I'm not playing by your verses.

Never letting ignorance lead me astray,
    Why do others think  I'm lost when
                                     in truth I'm
finally found..
Oct 2020 · 375
Oh, Shit
Poetic T Oct 2020
She never played by the rules,
          she asked me to hide.

I wasn't going to be the victim,
  shorty had a blade but I wasn't
  into
    being  her fatality.

deviating
                    postcode, different rules.
Oct 2020 · 551
Not So Shiny...
Poetic T Oct 2020
We may give them all of us,
                          but they are cheap,
                             ******* around like were
worth 5 cents and not the diamond that we gave them.

But they end up broke,
                                broke up,
                 broke as there on the street.

Clothes on the pavement.
And we were richer without them, no ******* around,
                          begging like were paupers.

But were prosperous without them,
                            there begging on the street.
The only thing they get is middle fingers,
             and your trash your love isn't even worth


the 2 cents to recycle...
Oct 2020 · 1.1k
Not Your Average
Poetic T Oct 2020
I never drove by that was the ***** way,
             half time trying to hit a wet spot blind.
or killing the time of those who were never
meant to fall...

Got honor between the lines, I'll stop the car,
              open the door, walk out suited
not you average gangster, look like the others
and no one running till I pulls out your
friend it anit here for a meet and greet.


More like say hello to, goodbye...
   you bleeding on the floor, I'm a good shot...
One to the chest, you fell now one to the head,
   you aint paid you bills now your blood
                                           stained in the wind.


Casually walking back to the car signing
         autographs of his followers.  
This meet and greets been productive,
   Family signing you off on the morgue...

I aint going to lie the only necktie I be
           tightening is yours...

Tied to a chair, if I need information,
   asking as politely with a ball hammer
                                   and some pliers...


I had a few mouths shout off,
now they walk the street silently,
  never **** disrespect.

Show what silence sounds like,
respect is fear
         and I'm the scarecrow in the
field.

And you crows,
    you worm eaters ain't seen nothing yet..
Poetic T Oct 2020
Cursing like they diamond but
they don't even cut glass..
   Holding wraps of cash, but the top and
bottom be 50's but the rest is the monopoly
that they can't even pay...


They are burning rubber on the expense,
  but they rented, they dent...  
          Paying back on the record company.
You sold 50 thousand but you owe
                                                   a hundred grand.

They ain't going to shoot out you knee caps,
         there just going to gang-**** your voice..
Thinking you original, swallow that pride,
you one of there cash cows,  
           they milking you, can you say Moo!!!
******* around making the milk sour.

They'll just pressure bolt you
lobotomized, on the industry you either overdose,
             or working at KFC..  

Think you had grills now sold off to pay
the rent, the only thing you can afford is
a tin foil grill and you only cooking,
                                                 is burgers...

"Hi sir can I take your order,
Oct 2020 · 777
Drive By Baby Swinging
Poetic T Oct 2020
Pushin my baby on the swing each one way,
        Bullets passing the wind not punching
me and my baby. But the fools be running
like they could outrun fate.

They can't escape the crosshairs of
  ill-prepared revenge.  
    Cadavers hit the floor blood outlines
that turn white after they felled.

I kept pushing my youth, hoping
she'd grow to an age where she
           could push her own.

But every day I playing Russian
   roulette with her swinging,
    me pushing her further so that
she's higher than the gunshots


          as they always hitting lower.

Today I was pushing her, she in her nikes,
     swinging her higher than death could
catch her tight grip...

But my neighbor she hanging low, catching
two unfollowed friend requests  flying through
the air, one in the thigh, one between the thoughts,

I kept pushing as her shadow swallowed by her
folding on the floor, her baby swinging slower
but still alive.

         Blue took her to her daddy, hope they
find out who they are as she had more than
           one by another man...


I m still here pushing my baby on a silent playground.
      No one comes here, that's good for me.
   pushing her low as there isn't a problem
of drive-bye byes... No more *******, no one to ****.
                  There is just me and my baby pushing..


Come on baby its time to go home,
                 the road is white, and we aren't
going to our usual place...


R.I.P to those who never didn't do nothing.
          


Another drive-by, grills smiling as flashes
greeting shaded window frames,
                                          hanging low.
Oct 2020 · 627
Meaningful
Poetic T Oct 2020
Life is not wealth but
                         moments.

For wealth can easily be lost.

   But moments always last a lifetime.
Oct 2020 · 814
Mean So Much More
Poetic T Oct 2020
People think,
    "I Love You,

is the most romantic
                     word.

But in truth,
          "I've Missed you,

means true love.
Oct 2020 · 2.1k
Summer Strings
Poetic T Oct 2020
She was so, what's the word I'm looking for?
  not *****, some would say submissive.
There is no way she was that, more *******.
But she never let it show, she'd have a way of
controlling the situation to make you think you
        were in charge...

How could I explain it? more like your in a desert,
         thirsty and see a fountain in the distance.
Running towards it your strength disperses,
  and you believe what you see even though your
            swallowing the passing of time.

Even as you choke, you still believe you've
quenched your, I mean her thirst.
          If she was poker, she'd have the winning
hand every time...

So back to the moment at hand, she was so dam
         rough, I had scratches that looked like I'd
had a sleepover at Elm Street.
I'm not saying I didn't enjoy it...
I liked it when she made me trickle.


That itch while at work, as my back
was healing, it turned me on knowing
that she still lingered even though we
weren't near.
       She had this suffocation issue,
but it was kinker than just naked...
        

It was in a summer dress,
                    and only in the summer.
Like she was seasonal?
I'd lift her dress up. she was pantiless.
           But before that, my hands were even
within her thighs, she was damper than
the grand canyon dry around the edges,
       but between she flowed...

There was no finesse it was all or nothing,
     no gentle hands, deep and hard were her ways.
She knew what she liked. But like a drug,
Its strength diminishes over time,
and the thrill was now near non-existent.  
And a frustrated woman isn't one to be trifled with.

So we got others involved, ones that had
the same suffocating view on life.
Constricted on the normality of ***.
The first one, ***. It was embarrassing.
  We'd guest they were more inquisitive
         than had done it before.

We'd had them sign a waiver on the obligation
of what it entailed. A few drinks later,
Ok, more than a few and it was a melting ***
         of flesh, we were all over each other.
      She strangled my other half one-handed
constricting her flow of air, the other fingers
in her mouth being ****** erotically.

I'd never thought of how ****** this would be,
it didn't matter that it was a woman,
the fact she was arching so much.
All because of another stifling her breath.
                    I had my fun though I was deep
in the other,  **** deep as she didn't want to
be penetrated in her flower, she likes her petals clean??
   My other half could see me over the other'ss shoulder.

Enjoying the fact of both woman were in my bed,
              I was getting close, and then it changed.
She saw that I was about to pleasured by another.
Her hands clasped around our new acquaintance.
For such a petite figure she had a grasp like a clamp.

I felt her clench around my external offering,
           and the smile off my other, it was suffocatingly  
pleasurable. All three of us slumped at the same time.
The bedsheet was drizzly with the fulfillment
  of all three of us. I'd never experienced such a
moment, it was unexplainably fulfilling.

We rested for a moment, and then as I pulled myself
from this sweaty gathering, I needed to ***.
I know wow how romantic, But you open a valve,
waters going to pour eventually.
   Walking back to the bed all smiles.
     She looked at me with fear, but with a hint of
excitement.
                    
"She's dead,

                            "What dead tired?

  "No you ****-wit, as in you just pleasured
yourself up a corpse you necrophilic *****...

I laughed, as I jumped into bed thinking she
was hoaxing me. But she wasn't moving.
  Holy crap that was an ****** to die for??
  She looked at me sheepishly, no not really I got
kind of confused, she was strangling me and i
was so turned on.

But then I saw you about to lift off, and I didn't
like the fact that it was in another and not me.
So I tightened my grip, I heard her throat crunch
under the pressure, and she came,
either in exhilaration or that she'd just died...
Is it wrong that it was a multiple's!!

I've had doubles with you but that,
                                               I'm still twitching.
Oh' not to the fact that there was a dead blonde
in our bed. But the fact she had a multiple with a dead
woman on top. I brushed that thought away as we
had more concerning things,

I said to her,

"Do we phone the police,
             she signed the waiver?

"Do we phone the police!

  She said in a sarcastic manner raising her brow,
  
I could never do that dam thing, she was like
a **** trekky when she did that Mmm..
        I'd live long and **** the **** out her in
that cosplay outfit, pity I broke the ears last time.

Crap, I'm getting distracted.

I  could see where she was ******* from,
       why the hell does the dead woman have
***** *******,  whoops my toothpick just
became a great redwood again.

Are you getting stiff off seeing a dead woman's
******* you freak? They are kind of just there,
As she lent across and licked them.
         Oh, there cold, she looked at me
in her I'm ***** look.  We shouldn't waste an
opportunity really, as she opened her legs
and maneuvered her so she could scissor her.

What you waiting for, put your piece in her gob,
her mouth cold against it, but moist enough
that I face ****** her till we both got close
            kissing each other and ******* at the same
time, wow that was intense,
                                        we both sheepishly smiled.

We both got in the shower, the bed damp still from
                  when all three were breathing but her
head slumped to the side and you could see it dripping
out her mouth as if she was sleeping and  drooling
                       on the pillow.. that's gross.

After we were all cleaned up, we had to decide
what to do, the police wasn't an option.
   We'd watched enough dexters to know that
cutting her up was going to be way too messy..
And last time I got a paper cut I fainted.

Grabbing some cling film out the cupboard I started
To wrap her up, beforehand we went to the store
and brought 15 liters of bleach. I used a kitchen
a utensil  with a short straw-like funnel and proceed
to bleach the inside of her ****.. and gave here a detol
mouth wash, we put the rest in the bath and put
her in there, she hadn't started decomposing and
rigor mortis wasn't overly making her stiff like a plank
so she easily sank to the bottom.

After lunch we let the water out, god she looked clean.
But her eyes had become white, like ghost white
staring at me, like she'd known what we did to her.
I tried closing her eyelids but they wouldn't shut,
so I used a permanent marker to color them in..
   What was I thinking, now she looks ****** possessed.
Drying off was like a ritual we were gentle and making
sure her hair was brushed nicely.


Then with the 6 boxes of cling film, we wrapped
her up nice and tightly.
Crossing her arms over her chest seemed like
a nice thing to do. You never realize when
someone says dead weight, just how heavy that is.
We did that nursery rhyme as we threw her in the boot,

A leg and a wing to see the king and yeet...
    I gave her a 7.5 for landing. As we drove off
we took the map out, using sat-nav was a no, no
as we could have our steps traced back.
   There was an old coal mine just twenty minutes
away, what was cool was that there was an opening
that was so deep but not many knew about it.

I know how convenient is that. We parked up and
we knew we'd have to be quick so I slung her over
my shoulder, walking along I got really damp?

"Babe, what the hell is going on?
                     "Is she peeing on me?

I started to gag, but then the bleach smell hit!
       Phew! she was leaking bleach all over my jeans.
Thank **** for that, I knew these were going
to be burnt later anyway and had a spare pair in
the boot just in case. What I come prepared.

As we got to the opening a couple was standing there
throwing a rolled-up rug down the hole?
we both just looked at each other, what's up?
                              Nothing
What's up with you?
                     Nothing!
We just smiled and dropped our cling film roll
down the same hole. they pulled a knife we pulled
a baseball bat out.

Look, we know what we've both done,
   and if we walk away now you, we,
well neither of us will get hurt or have to throw the
others down that hole. How about the saying.
You didn't see it, so it didn't happen,?

They walked off, we walked off calmly.
That went a lot better than I thought as I laughed.
But just as we got to the car we heard a twig snap
right behind us, out of instinct I swung hard
catching him square in the temple.
as he fell he landing on his accomplice.
She was screaming Oh'my god help me..

My other half leaned over her, foot on her wrist
pulling the knife out her hand.. What were you
going to do with this then.

            "*******, she yelled.

No how about I mouth *******,
and with that, she raised the knife up
and shoved it into the hilt of her mouth.
God, i love this woman.
   As she lay there gurgling..
I mean the noise was nasty..
  So she just trod on her throat and silence.

We looked at each other, and started kissing,
    and before you knew it we had steamy windows
handprints visible to what had perspired in here.
As we got redressed and the tension now reduced
we dragged these two both to the hole.
I mean  my girl just grabbed his feet and like
luggage threw him in. She's so awesome.

You do realize we got from accidental murders
to nearly serial killers now.
And you know what it was such a turn on.
     I must admit we were both turned on by death.
We found their car and drove both down the country
lanes making sure that cameras were nowhere near.
We burnt it out, but not before doing donuts in a field
to make it look like joyriders had stolen it..

After that, we had plenty more lovers, false addresses
to entice, and snare our next lover into false security.
We got tech-savvy as well, in the car we had a scrambler
that blocked their mobiles. most didn't even notice
they lost signal, some did and were over-cautious
                   If they didn't come then unlucky them.

But we remembered that everything was to happen
in the bedroom. Gosh that coal mine is now a mosh pit
of broken voices, that crunch just as we orgasmed.
  That never got old, as everyone was different some
***, others ****** them selfs, that was new and gross.
But luckily we had mattress protectors on and plenty
more in the cupboard. To date, we must have made
love and silenced at least 12 over the last few years.

Only in the summer though,
  and the dresses, god she looks so hot...

Got to go through as our new friend
just turned up in guess what in a summer dress
of all things.
           We just looked at each other and smiled.
Poetic T Sep 2020
I wish every day was a Friday,
that seven-day repetition that
        I no your walking through
my door, no looking back...

Were here all night a 2.5 fraction
of a week where theres just me
             and you, just us....

Runing a 4.5 day missing you
    to a weekend of just us
through the minutes to hours
            to the where did this
                                    weekend go.

The alram sounds, then the race
             to the end of the weekned
starts,finishing as we count mistakes
     of days that we catch on to a friday.

Your here now, were sorry I missed you,
              but the weekend is ours..
  no leaving, were just us, me and you.

            I've missed more than just your body,
           missing your breath on me,
                but now were here in this moment,

long live every weekend when your next to me.
Sep 2020 · 529
Clutching Pillows
Poetic T Sep 2020
I never wanted to change the sheets,
    as I always smelt you even though

you weren't there.


I loved you from the distance,
             from a kiss from you to us.

But I knew that I needed you to know,
          that I was here even though
you weren't between the pillow
           and sheets keeping me warm.

Sleeping without you, clutching the
             the cusion that had
                        you head rested

next to mine..

Closing my eyes I'd imagine you looking
               lost into mine.
Breathing deeply I feel a moment
       when you loved me.
            

I felt lost till you were next to us,
       we weren't apart.
      But I lost you every time you
             closed the door.

But now you're next to me, no longer
               cuddling pillows of dreams
I  have the real thing, you next to me.
Sep 2020 · 328
Crucified For Loving...
Poetic T Sep 2020
You were  my cross,
    stigmatised for loving

                                        you...

  
  But I'm crucified
for loving him.
Poetic T Sep 2020
When I'm down the sun never
seeks the sky.
                          Just a dullness
that hovers  beyond the grasp
              of my need to rise above

my pain...

I only needed that ray to hit upon my
                                 sighs...

                         I need to not hurt like
before, I cant keep this smile aloft..

It's falling like a shooting star,
   bruised when it hit the ground
             never again found.

   I'm dwindling like the stars caught
                 between the dawn and nightfall.
But never
            a light flickering before its
radiance is just an echo like me..


You'll find me, that star that fell,
        but never wished upon.

Just cold never seen,
               here but missed,
   as I fell from a moment of height
  to a place where I'm low and alone.
Poetic T Sep 2020
We spend to many fractions


taking away or adding up the
                              meaning.

Times are incomplete,
          but we must always
divide every moment so that

everything adds up to the equal
                         breath that we aren't

in control.


But we are but numbers,

                in an equation of now.
Sep 2020 · 347
And Always Smile
Poetic T Sep 2020
May the future never be a sprint,
           but a smile

as that which you cant walk through
       can be traversed

with but a gracious glimmer
              of hope.

And smile :)
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