Seasons greetings go with a cheer, who will be the
Winner of this nights festive fight club, now here.
Starting with Santa the Easter bunny with his
Whipping ear, Santa starts with a hoho... startling
The bunny as he gives him two to the ear.

No rules in this game we come to see, as the Easter
Bunny drops two eggs, does something smell rotten
In here, eyes watering he can hardly see as the whipping
Ear screeches and straight across fathers tummy.

In pain he shouts I'm so jolly, is this the end of Claus,
No as Santa jumps up higher than the bunny can see,
Landing on Easter knocking him cold with his enormous
Belly, with a hoho.. and I feel jolly,
any one for rabbit I'm starving.

Easters out Christmas is in next round
Let it begin, Halloween enters the ring
Chills down the spine the fights about
To begin. Then explosions around guy
Fawkes jumps in will this end with a bang
Or bewitched the fight is about to begin.

Guy goes for a punch but misses his swing,
Less of a BANG more a wet match fizzle, then
Trying to light his powder a flame needed
But none to be found, Halloween does come
Back skeletons grab through the ground, as
Possessed is Fawkes as he jumps up and down
Madness has taken him whispers say around.

This was a match of two but only one is around,
As guy runs with speed and knocks him self
Out a corner post face print seen all around,
Not the explosive finish we were expecting to
See, then like a ghost Halloween reappears
With a ghoulish laughter the round
                                       Won spookily it seems.

The immobile carcasses of plastic babies
litter my child's floor, never seeking there
birth mother as she was a statue of recycled
imagery. Of illegitimate children holding this
abortion of weaved construction that sings hollow
words of  "mommy, mommy,

But they look within me, in cold eyes they stare in
to nothingness heeding the words of wanting
but their cries diminish to a silent lingering buzz.
Barely heard but I white noise succumbs to dreams
of a lonely child in stress, but recycled voice spoke.

I kicked the abortion of sickening similarity and
wonder back as the form of a child, baby, I have just
kicked. But still it weeps for a mother that is as
fake as the calls its synthetically calls upon a child.

Inanimate objects that stir in repetition, I will be long
gone when you will still whimper in a landfill,
calling in static, batteries last moments and you
still call out "mommy, mommy, no one answers your call.

Few words are sometimes
         more immortal
                  than the motions of many verses.

I could do tricks with those fingers
balancing acts of precision breath
was controlled for this moment.

One false move, and that moment lost,
sighs were heard, head shamefully hung.
As I would have to start over once again.

"OK fingers don't fail me now, I rotated  
getting a rhyme, I heard the excitement
as she released her ecstasy on fingers.

I was her fidget spinner, fingers fine
tuned to do those tricks to make her
world spin, she fidgeted in ecstasy.

Life is a fight, we survive
to see another day, We
are the hunter. But never
sit easy because we are always
the prey.

Food chains change everyday,
the weak will be preyed upon
each and everyday, We are
forgetting what it is to hunt,
survive the real world beyond
your safe doors.

The hunters do not hunt anymore,
we are becoming weak, and sooner
than later the ladder we will fall, and
become just another hunted, as we
have become weakened by how
we live today.

We used to fight for life, but if there
is no fight left in us, will we just work,
rest and play...

We all fight for what is right, for what
we believe in, but with every thought
of right, there is going to be those that
think it is wrong.

Those who have never seen battle, but
have see the scars of those that come
home,those who lost there lives only to
be brought back in a box draped with a
homeland flag.

Some respect those that pledge their
life to fight the fight, while others think
they are lambs to the slaughter. Fighting
for a country that doesn't want us, even
though we offer to help the fight.

Invaders, conquerors, the people think
we are, so even though we offer are help
they fight against those that came to help.
We all fight a fight, but in each others eyes
we are fighting the enemy, and we think
what were doing is right.

I am never alone, you may have
Tried to destroy me from the
Within, but I will fight you with
Strength, with breath of my own.

But I will have more strength
Than you know, for the strength
Of the many will help me along,
Friends, and family keeping me
Strong I will never be forgotten

This journey may be long, people
Will join me on my  journey, they
May walk a mile, then others will
Take the challenge up, I will never
Walk solely in this fight for my life.

For those fighting the C

I fly released my arms
stretched out, my mind
is free, as I glide through
the air, I feel the breeze as
it brushes over my face
and through my hair.

The wind hits my clothes
I see the rain slowly pass
as it goes past my face, I
drift down to the place
that will finish my final
flight from this place.

I had a thought to fly one
more time, to let the world
pass by me, to see me fly
one last time.

Then before my moment of
flight is at an end, I regret that
this shouldn't have been done,
I don't want to fly anymore
regretting that step

But I flew and it is at an end,
fifteen stories up my flight
did begin. At the bottom did
it finish, my final flight regretting
what I did as this is my end.

Caressing your neck with
my fingers,tighter the grip.
I feel your pulse as I hold
tight, I feel every beat of
your life, as it vibrates
through my finger tips.

I hold tight kissing, caressing
your throat with my lips,
I can taste you with each
one, your breathing deepens
as I lick you gently with my
tongue tip

I cant resist, I must do what
I was made for, as I bite deep
in to you I can taste your lust
as I drink deep, the beat slows
but you are caught in lust.

As your final breath exhales you
tasted sweet, as I leave you I
give you a final loving kiss as
now I can taste death on your
still warm lips.

Mourning solitude of a  tattered shell
   where my breath encompasses me

Eyes vagrant, coiled in tattered white
  sheets, only obscurity sees within here.

Spreading outwards like dead branches,
  holding onto nothing but vacant imaginings.

Exhaled memories are watered when I see you,
   finally finding me enclosed, isolation is now broken.

She said he was to down to earth,
that she could never see the stars
                        beneath his staring.

"Am I not grounded enough?
        do you wish to gaze deeper
              than even I can look into..

Would you want to reach the heavens,
to see how many glimmers float deep
       within every blinking of my sight.

"She pondered his question,

If you can make me see the universe
entwined within every look
                                        you give me.
                              I'll be yours forever.

So days past upon his gaze, not at her!
            but the fulfilment of her wishes.
And with that, he brought out his gesture
                                 of making her see stars.


"Strap this on yourself!

But is this not just a rocket?
        will I not leave your side.


Never would I let us part,
       you will only be above my gaze.
my eyes steering you, no longer grounded.

With a twinkle in his eye he gazed at her,
   "I see the stars gleaming in your eyes.
    "You are no longer grounded to.....

And without a word the rocket shot off.
        hearing her faint words.. I was wro…

With that a shower of sparks erupted,
         in the  heavens and for a second she saw stars..
But unfortunately ungrateful of what she had.

He never saw her again after that.
         But he was a man of his word.
Now grounded to terra-firma he gazes
                  towards the stars and smiles.

Give me reason to cross the divide
to believe you were there all along,
not a mirage that my heart only
desired.

All I heard was the echo of
your voice, from all sides across
the divide, my memories were still
vivid like a dream I'd walked through.

I could touch your shadow, but it was a
lie, like the mirage, like your voice,
I only wanted to hear to see, what my
heart desired.

but it was all a lie, finding you was
what I wanted but your not here
any more you have left to the other
divide.

Hair entwined upon a frogs throat no words escape,
Phrases silenced upon glyphs her fingers shift.

Skulls oculus vacant onyx blighted in introduction
Or demise, unseen  glyphs taint your sight mine.

Hair warped on twigs embrace, like a servant I
Usher your will entwined on fingers legacy.

Soul is charcoal in my thoughts no purity, nevermore.
I am the shadow lingering with string behind the door.

If we were exact copies we would find the faults
                                                      that­ make us un-unique..
For some would have a mole in a certain place.
                      Unclean to the others who view
themselves as a perfection of ignorance....

We must all be different to realise that perfection
                    is found in the intricate imperfections

of evolution.

Our faults are what makes
                                    every living thing outstanding,

as were a creation of random fluidity
                                   that makes us no better than those before us,
now, or those who are born
             before our fading
                      of our unique imprint on this pebble.

We all a grain that makes a mark no matter
             our finite moment in this ocean



of finite waves...

They think, that I'm like
   a disowned  feline...

Throwing me out first floor
                    windows..

Do I land on my feet...…
               No I land on my ribs,

on my head, only scrapes..

But my ribs are broken like
             a chess board... one wrong move
and its check mate..

I'm dying where I lie...
             choking on the blood of my
             ******* world moves...


But I landed on my wrist...


They'll never catch my broken *******,

   broken slang.
      

But they knew what a hand held with another
                                                      meant..
a mangled ******* as I survived another day.


I came back like a bee looking to sting,
                     but the ones who fell out there nest


were stung by another not me..


I'll walk another day.. been stung a few times..
             but I learnt my lesson...


Don't mess with the nest unless you

                want to be in anaphylactic shock of


some random fools words

trying to prove,
                               some insecurity for an abandoned




father figure, that's compensated
by a bullet,
                          and a promise of we got your back.

Florescent scales shimmer from its being,
a disco ball of motion
                                       in a watery tide.

Prisoner of subdued surroundings
                     Darkness within light...

If I give
you the five
finger crunch
hello,  don't take
it personal its just
telling you I really don't like what you said.

My words ignite the pen, never
Burning my hand, as inspiration
Writes the words burnt on too
Paper to never fade again.

If the fire should ever go out,
Then the words will not flow, but
Dry up never to be wrote till
Once again the spark ignites.

And once again the pen runs ablaze
Over paper, fuelled from the mind
Once again burning black on to
The paper words once again.

A flasher opens
his trench coat,
the ladies laugh
out loud,
HOW SMALL IS THAT
Is it that  COLD
the ladies are
heard shouting
out, the flasher
embarrassed sulks
away, with his belittled
ego and his tiny
mushroom under
his rain coat, never
was he seen again.

Let me flick your bean
              Till you grow peas
                             Of ecstacy.
And I swallow everyone
                                 Moistly.

Life is A butterfly
       With its
wings torn asunder.  

For when your time
     Comes, and it will.

There will be no flight,
   No beauty.
Just your last breath
         Torn asunder.

Winters decay had fallen to springs
Majestic dance and what it brings.

Like fireworks of life each blooms
Avid colour bursts forth and resumes.

Awoken bees flutter busily gathering
Nectar as hopscotching while travelling.

Gusts collect scents of summer collide
I sit quietly taking in beauty outside.

A kaleidoscope of beauty before my eyes
Watching the colours mingle my soul flies.

Light never permeates  halls,
Illuminated by lost souls
Wandering paths of fallen skulls.

I weep for the flowers,
         who have lost the love of another.


when ever petal drops,
               they are alone.

          no longer beauty,
just a stem of
                                            what was....

What if's,
                could they have been
a
    moment of others picking
             sharing the beauty of life..

But alas, they departed in sorrow,
             and now hangs a stem..
with nothing to show but regrets..


Maybe next time.....

Between the fissures of our existence,
there is a moment where we must all
decay into a garden of eternal beauty.

But for us to collect on the petals of
our demise, we must surrender.
Yielding to our fears of eternal silence.

We are all but a breath from our inevitable
decay, but we still try to water dead roots
that'll never grow again, dead flowers to ash.

Were prettier when were still, vacant allotments
of thought that'll never regrow. Where just a
moment of death consumed to never live again.

It was the first flowers I
Gave you, they were
Yellow, white & pink.
It was the first flowers I
Gave you, they were
So fragrant as I rested them.
It was the first flower I
Gave you, but you1l never
See, smell, touch them,
As I rest them on your grave.
I brought you flowers and
I will on everyone of you birthdays.

She is the girl that speaks
             upon  no ventures.
She only gazes with the sorrows
                            that graze your heart..

Feeding her own discontent.
                     And when she seeds the shallow fields
of your mind.

Only her reflections grow
             showing you the seeds
of not your sorrow
but the flowers of jealousy
                           blooming deep within her.

fluffy pillows white
souls caressed gently above
my wings silken touch

My mind is fluid thought
I think to much, as its
coming unstable like
my thoughts.

I try to keep my mind
together but its becoming
unstable as my mind drips
then tears it self apart.

Expanding outwards my
thoughts and mind torn apart..

Your words fall
           like webs.

And you are the spider
              waiting for the

eventual tug, to cocoon
                        my failures.



But my wings are stronger
              than your silk wordings.






And I fly free of your sorrow
             that you tried to capture
                                     me within.



Your alone, in your web of loneliness.


             And I flutter freely.

Their the glue
          holding my thoughts
solid through the hard times.

I would never fly a kite
            in a storm of depression,
            worried of being struck down.

But when I fly it with them,
the clouds disperse and my kite
                flies high with the love of all.


Every breath pushing my affection higher,
                                   I'll always fly this kite
           as long as there love breathes upon it.

We ponder outside,
                        where luminosity is dulled,

but no matter the dullness.

                  The beauty  of our view isn't stagnated.

I laughed and giggled I let out one
then two they were rather loud,
whoops I laughed out,  one more
followed they really stunk too.

I was in hysterics my friends thought
I was gross, but they laughed to, it
was like a baby ***** had exploded
in the room, the laughter was followed
by heaving that regurgitated smell
not leaving the room.

The laughter reached new levels, my
sides were hurting to, but then I
felt one brewing, and so I did push
to make it a special brew.

My laughter was short lived as a
wet guff came out, followed by
a wet feeling going down my leg.

My friends were laughing till a
brown patch appeared on my
trousers and a log dropped out
of my trousers and on to the floor.

Silence seemed like forever then
they laughed out louder than before
heaving and running for the door.

I was red faced, I couldn't move fast
enough to the toilet as another log
fell on the floor, I pulled down and
my  boxers were a brown stain,
where they were once sky blue before.

Never again would I push out a ****
for the crowd, for you never know
what may come a guff of putrid air,
or the embarrassing wetness down
your leg and on to somebody's floor...

Crimson seeping from fresh meat sliced,
As a screwdriver hit with intent.

Bone gives way like a hard shell sweet,
Giving up the soft pliable centre.

As the straws bladed beneath insert inwards
Thrusting, as twists give up what's wanted.

Thoughts ingested as dead eyes look up
Mmm....
Still warm....

I walked in to my daughter bedroom,
feeling a shudder I never thought twice.
It was an old house OK to me over 30 years
was moving it on. I had lived in homes from
the 70's now they had character.

As in we were sitting in the sitting room
and the steps of a child running briskly
down the stairs would make us mute what
was descending in volume as well as
what could be heard but the problem was...

No one had lived in the adjacent house not a
soul had stepped foot in those unfulfilled spaces.
Yet in the echoes of silent nights there were steps
on descending moments not of ours or there's.

That was in my youth forgotten images faded until
my young were born, now once again the footsteps
have followed. Things fall from ascending heights,
yet on further expectation nothing has fallen but thought.

And I wonder to what end is this becoming, as I'm
writing this and feel something watching in the
darkness as a shiver reverberates through me as I finish...

The floor never sleeps,
to many motions keeping
upon its matter.

Even though parts never clung
to by anything, vibrations from a
pin dropping reverberate and
a wave splashes on a floor just
an insomnia of existence...

*"The floor never sleeps, to much is moving on.

I had a path that at no time intersected
                            with others footsteps.
              Never would I walk on the
degradation of there choosing.

Because,
            if later on they had made a misstep.


I would ultimately be the lemming falling  
                                                with veins cut,
falling into the same inevitable ending...

Every footprint shifts after we have put
                       our weight on that decision.
That this was the right course of action...


             But we were a conveyor that feed
the lie of life that every step was always
                                                            well trod.

We would always finish off with a life well
      walked, but the truth was.
That some laces were untied and some fell.

Some would never reach the ending,
        let alone the beginning of the path..

For our steps are always shifting,
   and  everyone is never the same..

You are the one
                 footstep
that connects to mine.

For every stride we take,
                Is never singular

   But one in unison.


You and I, are a step in the right

           Direction.

Never mistaken, but when we
             Work together


we"ll always take the right step.

liquid love poured from
           seeping fissures.
And she tasted his every moment.

He gave his essence so she could
       linger within a lifetime of memoires.
And she saw every pain of his existence.

Within her tears were reflections of his
            momentary happiness with her.
Knowing she would drain his pain away.


"To collect the pain of another
         is to know the true emotions
         of what its like to live within there anguish"

We only know those we love truly by tasting
        the dirt left behind in there footsteps.
Everyone has prints in the past wished brushed away.