Between the sheets
you will see the real me
a tender, affectionate soul
no crazed delusions, no confusions
no re-repeated role
for I am but a simple man
troubled from my birth
take a chance and you will see
the value of my worth

White lilies
closed casket
poor fellow
blew his gasket

Have I ever?
would I ever?
depends of course
upon the weather
dark clouds swirl above

it's normally raining
somewhat draining
popping veins
increase with straining
there is no relief in sight

sun a rising?
moon a shining?
each meal is spent
in solitude whining
hunger never wanes

write a rhyme?
commit a crime?
no need for greed
I have served my time
yet the locks still turn

in like Flynn
the mighty Quinn
some rejoice
the colours of spring
I just.. fall

are you still reading?
my toes are kneading
***** defunct
I am done with breeding
oh, what a game

in need of change
to rearrange
every thought is irrational
every thought is strange
press delete then pause

they fooled me, psych
these hills I hike
place my head
upon a spike
the soul will never fade away

automatic writing
thoughts reciting
chattering teeth
pressure biting
blood trickles from my eyes

running low on gas
oh well, alas
invitation to hell?
I'll take a pass
self medication awaits

She led me to the waterfront
I cast a skimming stone
three bounces secured true love that day
seeds of future lives were sown

we married in a small town church
two rings blessed with a kiss
a baby was born the following spring
three bounces gave us bliss

alas, our bairn was taken after three short years
from this it became hard to recover
so we walked back to the waterfront
three bounces, this time, cast by my lover

in the years that passed, five children were raised
each one filled with joy and laughter
the first born was always spoke of and rejoiced
as much as the ones that came after

we often led them to the waterfront
they cast skimming stones, perfecting the art
my love and I smiled with pride
three bounces was just the start

I was the youngest of seven children with a docile, simple mother with no emotion who was obedient to my violent and sadistic father.

Suffice to say I was subjected to continual abuse.

I could not pronounce words which led to years of speech therapy.

The therapist seemed to get great delight in every meeting, forcing me to say " Six sizzling sausages frying in a pan" , which resulted in saliva running down my chin and extreme embarrassment.

She always laughed at this.

At age ten, I found myself confused and petrified as she rummaged inside my underwear with her eager hand.

I never went back.

I never told anyone.

I buried myself in books and wrote poetry.

Years later I collated some poems together and sent them to the British Poetry Society ( probably not the correct name).

To my delight I received a hand written letter from their president, giving advice and encouragement.

His name was Spike.

Spike Milligan.

Thank you sir.

If I could be anything I chose to be
I'd choose to be a whisper

Flesh filled visions
brains burnt out
pariah desire disease
punctured heart
shifted gaze
inconsolable disbelief

All of my life I have had a problem with keeping eye contact.

They say eyes are the mirror of the soul.

The only times I don't have a problem is when I am enraged with someone.

It was so bad when I was a child that I could not even watch the news on TV, as I thought the newsreader was looking at me.

Deep shame was the cause.

Thanks Dad.

Co-writes seem to of vanished from here. Years past they popped up a lot on here. Two poets combining to create one piece.

What do you think?
Should we restart the trend?

I'm up for it

"Good evening, Mrs Jones."

"Oh, hello there officer, what on earth do the police want with me?"

"It's not you, it's your son, David."

"Why, David is a good boy, he is out now taking our puppy for a walk."

"Your poodle, yes?"

"That's right, Harry his name is."

"David has been reported as having relations with Harry behind the post office."

"Relations?"

"According to three witnesses he was seen bumming poor Harry to death."

"To death?"

"Yes, the body has been taken to the police dog pound."

"Oh ok, but you do realise David identifies as a gay poodle?"

"Mrs Jones, I am so sorry. If we had known that we wouldn't of troubled you."

"That's the problem with you lot; you're a bunch of Terfs."

"Tell David not to worry and be assured the witnesses shall be reprimanded and dealt with appropiately."

"Good day to you officer."

"Thank you for your time Mrs Jones and please accept the force's full apology in this matter."

"Hello Edward.How's tricks?"


"Can't complain Mike.
I see your boy's been courting young Emily,
good for him."


"Yes, he makes me very proud.
Only last night I caught him washing his trunk
in the kitchen sink whilst singing
love songs about her".


"Aw, how sweet.
Her old man's a bit of a ****, though.
I heard he was knocking off a cow from the circus.
Filthy ******* can't keep it in his pants."


"Yes, Billy is a disgrace to all bulls.
Mind you,
with a four foot **** swinging about,
I guess you've  got to do something with it."


"Haha, yea, I guess so.
His missus is so sweet, though, it's not right."


"Barbara's a lovely cow, my childhood sweetheart she was."


"No ****? I didn't know that, Mike.
Ever thought about dropping her a length?"


"Edward, I'm a respectable member of the herd.
Besides, I love my wife.
No, I get satisfaction in life just knowing I have a great family
and a herd of true friends.
I don't need any distractions to ruin it all."


"Yea. I guess, you're right. I might have a bash though,
I ain't filled my boots in weeks."


"Just treat her kind."


"Yea no worries. Laters Mike."


"Yes, bye Edward."

Watch me as I'm dreaming
shortened breath and fear
inside my head I'm screaming
since she left me lying here

I'm trying to recover
to become a man once more
poor broken hearted lover
feeling rotten to the core

Praying to the heavens
for redemption of my soul
I'm at sixes and at sevens
as I fall into a hole

Darkness is my traitor
yet I treat it as a friend
goodbye and see you later
I think I'm going round the bend

Jackie was a piglet
sitting in a tree
along came a spider
whose name was Zebedee
Bobby was a parrot
who often ate raw fish
Tarquin was a badger
who really took the ****
Bertie was a rabbit
who couldn't have a dump
Eric was a porcupine
who had the ******* ****
all the funny animals
laughed and drank and sung
'til ****** Sid the problem kid
shot them with a gun

You alright Bert?

Yea, not too bad,
how's it hanging, Max?

Well I had a rough night,
what with my owners at it like rabbits 'til morning
and the cat ******* in my basket

****,
what a ******

innit,
it's OK though
cos I dropped a **** in her litter tray
'try covering that log up you filthy *****'

nice one,
'ere I had a massive dump myself earlier,
the old girl I live with was well annoyed with me,
of course, I looked at her all remorseful like
and did the head tilt thing

did she fall for it, Bert?

Yea,
***** cow,
she even gave me a treat,
humans eh?
Gullible *****

you got that right Bert

'Hello Ted, me 'ol mucker'

'Oh...yea…alright Bruce'

'What's up with you?'

'I caught Sophie last night,
you know...'

'What?'

'She's having it away with Guy the Gorilla'

'Jesus,
he must have split her in two.
Saying that,
she does have a wizard's sleeve'

'You what?
what the **** did you just say?'

'C'mon Ted,
don't play innocent.
She's a bit of a goer is Sophie,
a right old ****'

'I don't believe this.
Have you been knocking her off as well?'

'Yea,
a couple of times,
just casual like.
What can I say?
She wiggled her **** in my face
and let one go.
How could I refuse?'

'Ok,
well yea she does have a sweet aroma
but still,
you're meant to be my mate,
what a ***** you are, Bruce'

'Calm down Ted,
look,
I'll set you up with a
chimp *****, I know'

'Really?
What's she like?'

'Tight as a keyhole and up for anything.
Only last week we played
Hide The Banana'

'Sounds **** as hell, Bruce,
yea mate alright,
I'll give her a go'

'Attaboy,
you know it makes sense'

'Cheers Bruce,
Sophie can go **** herself'

'Or any other ape,
eh, Ted!?
Hahaha'

'You ******'

Beaten with a stick
thrashed by a belt
man weeps for the child
over the hand that he was dealt

walking for long hours
church clock as his guide
avoiding human beings
environmental genocide

lost inside a moment
never-ending pause
beasts visited in dreams
ripping with their claws

child petrified
devoid of understanding
paranoia in full bloom
irrational thoughts expanding

man weeps for the child
who took it on the chin
for the cards that he was dealt
cemented no chance of a win

Teardrops trickled in all directions
across and down my red flushed face
my heart pounded to a rhythm I had never known
uncontrollable mood swings followed

this was my first love, saying goodbye
I often recall and often regret
yet, what could I of possibly done different?
my destiny, my personality, were formed long before she came

many years later, I was given a label;

tut-tut, oh well, never mind
learn to live with it
you can never change

I travel into the echoes of my long distant past
I find life was not as I remembered
insanity was my upbringing
schemas in place long before I knew they were there

the culprits have now both left this world
I have no explanation, admission or apology
just a bucket of square pegs
with round holes to fill

so, to my first love, I say this;

you did well to walk away from me
I would have only brought you pain


yet, the teardrops still fall