"Nothing is sacred" you said, ask away....

Favourite band, colour, song, film, book, poet, author,the list went on
Favourite food, soda, cocktail, ****** position, animal, vegetable, fruit, smell, season, singer, songwriter, tv show..

This endless list of inane questions, hiding the one stuck in my throat like bitter bile.

"What do you see in him?"

Thats the big money question, the answer eludes me whenever I see you together.
Maybe your dappled green sees beauty where my clear blue sees too much ego.
Maybe your heart sings when he kisses your forehead, while my lips ache for the chance.

He doesn't see you, not really, not the you that howls with laughter, head back, snorting with each inhale.
Not the you that pulls weird faces when I take serious calls.
Not the you that I wish was mine...

Only mine.

He makes you different...
Quiet, subdued, Stepford wife.
A good girl. A closed book.
Ignoring his eyes while they wander,
as you avoid the love so obviously in mine.

"Ask me anything" tripped off your tongue
While your expression and the way you shifted said
"Just don't ask me that"

Nothing is sacred.
Except you.

That cut grass smell, freshens the morning
reminding me of your visit.
How you rolled in it with my boy
as he shouted "Grass fight!!" and you bellowed the theme from Dambusters,
a tied sheet your makeshift cape
as his laughter sent other birds to flight.
How you told him that you were 5 too.. but descended from giants
his eyes widening at the mystery of you, this woman-child with hair of fire.
You entertained us with ease and drove out sadness with bad knock knock jokes and good candy.
I knew in that moment that life was good.
He knew in that moment that it was ok to just be him..... because you were just you.

Why so sad my morning angel
did the darkness clip your wings
pull your heart down here from heaven
to settle where the reaper sings.

Why so sad my pretty blossom,
see your weakened petals fall
once you ruled the wildflower hillside
with hope and wonder for us all.

Please lift your heart and sing a lovesong
sing of aching burning need,
sing of limbs entwined and stirring
hidden places, planted seed.

Won't you lift your song to heaven
spread your wings and count to ten
'cause lingering deep within your passion
is where I found my soul again.

My dream girl found a lover
She speaks of him in rhyming lines
the joy she feels dancing between every heart shaped syllable,
thumbing it's nose at my breaking heart.

My dream girl found a lover
the deal was sealed with a rain soaked kiss
and hands that fit just-so.
A love tightly bound,
according to her rose tinted ink.

My dream girl found a lover
I hope he hears the fragility in her sighs
over the beauty that radiates when her smile crinkles her nose,
for that alone can distract a man from the sound of breaking.

My dream girl found a lover
to mend her broken heart,
a coveted position filled.
Leaving me forever dreaming
of almosts and half smiles.

She sings, mostly at night, pouring words from her coveted heart
tapestries rich with regret and carnal groans, bring heat and quench thirst
with tears.
She sings, do you hear her melody
as it reaches in to chill your soul?
I am obsessed with her fluid form
as she runs through our midst
wearing her path through life's granite sidings.
She is everything and nothing to all. She is both the glory of sunrise and the fear within darkness. A riddle within the enigma of an existence mourned. I celebrate the death of each lover that has serenaded without honour at her broken threshold, overjoyed by the lack of harmony as they flounder within her precious stare.

My lazy eyes lap at your thighs,
their jiggles my kryptonite.
Why lust for skin and bone?
bodacious beauty passes by, unnoticed by the blind.
I see it all,
curves and dimples
marshmallow soft and twice as sweet
call my name and boost my blood!

My stare is caught in your embarrassed eye
As you presume negativity not positive effect
pulling at your dress, hiding all you own.
You are beauty supersized,
as my lazy eyes lap at your thighs.

This used to be my home, my safe place but now every room has an echo of you, though you have never lived inside it's walls.

This used to be my mind, it was filled with crashing surf and Beach Boys medleys. Now it's filled with how you looked when my kiss broke your precious trust.

This used to be my heart, only ever used once, I thought it could only beat for her, then it met you, fragile and broken, filled with a delicate strength, masked by the laugh of a devil.

You used to be my friend. You'd fill my days with words, my nights with laughter, my heart with hope and though you're still here, I know that to me you are gone.

I ****** up, I know this now. There is no explanation I can give, no rewind button, so I'll crawl on my knees and hope that one day you'll forgive me instead of forget me.

I will write a million apologies.
Because I can't stand these days without your smile.

collaboration with calpurnia mockingbird*

Bite me, muse
You night time lover
fairweather fickle demon of writes
you shake your stuff in my direction
then run off laughing in the night.

Up yours, muse,
you wanton harlot
spewing fragments, bits of rhymes
take your teasing from my doorstep
sorry *****, don't have the time.

*******, muse
you stinking skiprat
get to steppin' set me free
you mock my gaze with great affection
help me out or leave me be!

******* muse, my new expression
take your words and shove them there
your sun don't shine in my direction
this poems **** but I don't care.

The man in the van
Started hatching his plan
Down the street at a quarter to four
With his clipboard and tie
and his best lizard smile
He purposefully knocked on my door.
"Do you have a license?"
his voice broke the silence
I stood there and claimed common law
I told him his kind on my land were not welcome
asked him to step away from my door.
He said "could I step inside for a second to see if you have a TV.
I told him get lost as he told me the cost
of getting television for free.
I stood there and mocked
he was really quite shocked
by my laughter and absence of fear
at a thousand pound fine, maybe even some time
at her majestys service for me.
I then, quite politely closed the door behind me
as I marched him tout suite down my path
straight back to his van, this strange little man
while the neighbours all watched with a laugh.
"You're breaking the law"
He told me once more
as I put the poor ****** inside
I closed the door tightly
and then so politely
Waved *******, as home I did stride.

He tears about with happy shouts
a truck held in his hand
his shoes kicked off, his hat on wrong
as he runs along the sand
He chases gulls with wild intent
of what I do not know
sea snails hear this cacophony
and retreat to their homes
I chase him through the breaking waves
and catch him with a giggle
this force of nature in my arms
with tendency to wriggle
his little arms around my kneck
on my nose he plants a kiss
I stay this way as waves crash in
in sweet paternal bliss.

Never doubt that you are loved.
You are a spark of light in someone's darkness.
A monsoon to the thirsty
A banquet to the starved.
An undeniable force of nature
A beating heart against the silence
A hand to hold 'til fear subsides
You are all this and more to many.
You are all this and more to me.
Believe.

There was a boundary, a clear line, a stop sign
I overstepped the mark
saw the curve of your smile and wanted to taste it
I watched you, the way your lips drew on your cigarette
the way they move when you speak
and suddenly I was there
leaping the wall between us
breaking barriers that should remain.
I threw caution to the wind
and with a stinging slap you threw me in the trash.

After reading your plea good lady,
I really can't deny
this fire burning in my *****
as your words pass by my eyes.

After reading your plea good lady,
I'm happy to oblige,
soon all sound will be muffled
by your enveloping thighs.

After reading your plea good lady
there were no words to be said,
so I'll kiss your pretty flower
while you moan and give me head.

After reading your plea good lady,
to your front door I will roam
and sort you out, quite properly
before your man comes home.

After reading your plea good lady,
sit back and watch me burn
then tease a little longer
us men, we never learn.

I read your tears this morning,
words written with salt water
eroded a part of me, deep inside.
You are never alone,
Know this, as I plead with you,
beg of you.
I walk, filled with the light you gave me once
I offer it back, on bended knees
as I mourn the loss of your smile.

How loud is too loud for Slipknot?
Ask my neighbour.

We grew up together
I pulled your hair, you kicked my shins...repeatedly....with vigour
I taught you to skateboard
You taught me to tip cows....make a rope swing and cheat at kiss chase
I taught you to roll cigarettes
You taught me to shoot whiskey, drop acid and roll joints
I took you to the fairground
You took me to an illegal rave and screamed RUN!!! when the police arrived
Years between us, you older, me younger
Yet here I am, the bad influence
While your **** smells of roses!
I showed you my writing
You gave me directions....here
I will always be grateful for that
I will always be grateful for you.

**** girl!
Frustration strips my veins as I read your dreams, tempting me with fire
Don't you know I already burn in your flame?

**** girl!
You laugh at my blushes and tease my conscience, as I shake like a poorly mixed cocktail that wants only to slip down your silken throat.

**** girl!
I ask what you're doing, laying supple, arched by the words of angels your reply. My warning wasted on deafened ears.

**** girl!
You don't see what you've got, I do, does he? I'm flesh and blood, close enough to touch, though your soft skin never graces mine.

**** girl!
****!

I miss your California tan,
that birds nest of blonde
you always insisted was styled meticulously.
Your lopsided smile
always accompanied by rolling eyes
whenever I tried to be clever and ultimately failed.
I miss the way your hand fitted in mine
and the way you could never just hold it, without fiddling with my fingers.

You should see our boy now
he brings joy with every breath
and finds magic everywhere
He picked a snail from the garden the other day
to keep as a pet, I said no, snails aren't pets!
he said "mummy will let me" and ran back outside calling for you
searching for your smile
he doesn't understand......
he shouldn't have to.

She is gone
yet here I linger
within this cruel twist of fate
watching boy become man
alone.

I thunder down corridors
the wind in my hair
days spent staring at the ceiling
has made me a little crazy
So tonight I roll with my brother
taking corners sideways
howling with laughter
as we make our bid for freedom
and the sweet night air.

Everybody loves you baby!
We hang on your every word
how does that feel?
The pressure to always be working
always be rhyming, always be thinking, always be tapping on the keys that bare your soul.

Everybody loves you baby!
Do you feel it? Do you believe the words posted under every verse as you tear out your heart? Or do you feel them? lying barbs that pierce your mind like a thousand salted lashes, false accolades by sometime friends who would run a mile if only they knew....you.

Everybody loves you baby!
Your brittle, broken, beautiful words
spun with the strength of a million webs of lies from those that didn't deserve to meet your lust filled gaze. My truth and your truth clash and combine, we love, you hate, I adore, you hide, I write for only you, you poison me slowly with writes for others.

Everybody loves you baby.
Can you feel it?
Everybody except you.

A walk on the beach in the morning
is never a simple affair
once the dog is dressed and the kid's on the leash
we leave with the breeze in our hair.
We walk along the shoreline
and watch the changing tide
we clamber over rockpools
where creatures deftly hide.
I'm not a morning person
My brain remains asleep
for at least two hours after
my eyes begin to peep.
So I take in the horizon
with a deep and grateful sigh
while boy and dog go running
off to greet some passers by
the fishermen are chatting
showing them their daily catch
while the dog he begs for something
from the bucket, just a scrap
So the guy picks out a live one
and shows it to the pup
who jumps away quite quickly
treats forgotten, heckles up.
My son he takes a finger
and reaches out to feel
this shining, writhing creature
in a bucket made of steel.
He flinches as it flips it's tail
annoyed that he can't catch it
but it slithers through his tiny hands
and back into the bucket.
We turn our tails and head for home
and talk of what we've seen
the boy says in his grown up voice
lets not have fish for tea.

My brother comes to stay today
flown home from distant shores
my twin in all but choices
I have little, he has more.
He mocks my lack of money
and loathes my simple life
but that's ok, I get my kicks
by sleeping with his wife.

He tells me I'm too laid back
Says I should be more slick
though slick is what his wife gets
when I tease her with my ****
Id really love to tell him
how I scratch his darlings itch
and wipe that smirk clean off his face
the condescending *****!

Oh how she shimmers
made from the glare of the morning sun
she passes through my world in the briefest instant
My breath captured forever within her deep blue stare.
I can only watch as her dress skims her honeyed skin,
her scent, forever lingering amongst the breezes and leaves
will always stir my soul to sing.

I love the way your smile just sits there
Comfortably
Beneath the mischief in your eyes.
You have that look
like you know what you've got going on
but without the arrogance to match.

We talk about life
Yours, mine
It makes me wish we had an "ours"

I wish I could shake this feeling of betrayal
this hatred of my feelings as they bloom
I promised to never love another...

though I find myself wondering how your hair smells
how your sighs sound
how your silhouette would fill the dark with light..

how foolish to fall in love through words
but the more the words fall
the more I find myself falling with them
helpless against the flow
my rudder trashed
my course set
by your compass
pulling me to my true North
as I fight to hold on to my ghosts.

Off we go with a loud hurrah
dog and kid and stuff in the car
buckling up and blasting some tunes
singing along like a couple of loons.
Taking a ride on a sunshine highway
stopping off at finnegans wake
we'll poke out our tongues at the world rushing by us
and belly laugh wildly for belly laughs sake.
We'll sing of tattoos and rowdy bar fights
and rats lounging in vats of ale
I'll silence myself as the bagpipes start blowing
and smile as my little guy takes it away
I'm not sure he quite understands what he's singing
nor that he cares as he fist pumps the air
I watch as he blushes at the lyrics with swears in
then sings them quite loudly, as if I'm not there.
This music you sent us, makes us feel alive
and Kiss me I'm ******* is fun when your five
not suitable listening for such tender ears
but his grin is far wider than it's been in years.
So God bless the Murphys and God bless you too
for bringing such joy on our trip to the zoo.

For Calpurnia**

You say you're getting old
the years are flying by
your hair is slowly greying
and there's wrinkles round your eyes.
Those wrinkles made by laughter
just add to your collection
of all the little things that show
the depth of your affection.
Let today be filled with laughter
and let tomorrow pay
get loud, get drunk, get rowdy
I've seen how hard you play!
Life begins at 40
for you I'm sure it's true
I'll raise a glass and hope to have
40 more years of you.

Tomorrow you leave,
so soon!
too soon?
months of laying on couches ahead.

"Tell me about your childhood"
"How did that make you feel"

You're always quick to take blame,
when it should be at the feet
of the gameplayers,
the nay-sayers
the ones that trickle poison,
trawling their filthy twitching nets
in the hope of catching a morsel
to feed their burgeoning egos.
While they frig in hateful darkness
happily inflated by another ruined soul.

Home again
the post surgery high long gone
anaesthetic only numbs so much
spending days just sitting,
stagnating with your photo's
and scarlet ringleted dreams
of friendships saved by other methods.
Many coloured sprinkles of poison
line my dresser in precise rows
I sit as the clock watches me watch it,
no thunder running through the halls seems strange but oddly comforting in it's absence.
This constant itch in plaster binding
could drive me to drink, if I could reach the tinkling cabinet of liquid safety but instead you and ink become my drug of choice, one to cause the pain, the other to move it on, a cycle known to all who have travelled with their hearts firmly stitched to their muddy sleeve.

I'll regret you in the morning
but for now, lets have some fun
there's nothing on the telly 
and my working day is done.
I won't call you tomorrow
or even on the next
no need to be your facebook friend
or waste my freebie texts.

I need your taste to thrill me
as into your warmth I slide
with a groan of pure enjoyment
as my stresses run and hide.
I love to taste your honey
as it settles on my tongue,
My God I love you whiskey,
think I'll have another one.

Come every morning you're up with the sun
with hundreds of questions before breakfasts done
like what is a rainbow and where is the dark?
what's that? and why's? can we go to the park?
the beach? the woods? as I sit here and dream
must we have cereal? I want ice cream!
You sit at the table, eyes wide, mine half shut
and chat to the cat about dinosaur stuff
how you like pterodactyls but school, not so much
you rummage through cereal in hope of a toy
one way to amuse such a curious boy
the cat swipes  the box, makes it fall to the floor
"there goes our breakfast!" as sweet laughter roars
you slurp at your juice as I sip at my tea
so it's ice cream for breakfast for you and for me.

The plaster is off
and everything's fine
the rehabs a killer
but it passes the time
These weight bearing stretches
can't go on forever
as titanium rods hold my poor leg together.

Messages from strangers
Speak of waging war.
Go play jump roap,
Marbles, hopscotch.
All are fine playground games
British bulldog or dodgeball
tag or kiss-chase....
What's the time Mr Wolf?

My sweet innocent boy
My 5 years of wonder
will you remember her?
How she lit up like Christmas when you smiled?
How your tiny sneezes brought wild laughter
Head thrown back, radiant in the joy of her creation!
How she paced the floor, wishing your pain was her own?
How your tiny fingers curled in her hair?
The songs that sang you to sleep?
The hours she spent, just watching
waiting for your eyes to open?
Her memory is ours alone.
All that is left of her, I see in you.
My boy.

Today we get a puppy,
though there really is no need
but last night I got rat arsed
and stupidly agreed.
So we're off to see the pound dogs
to look for one we like
the boy insists on three legs
wagging tail, and the name Spike.
Three legs to match our much loved cat
on this he will not budge
just so she doesn't feel left out
and start to hold a grudge.
So we're headed for the rescue
with these categories in mind
with happy smiles and fingers crossed
that a tripod we will find.

There is no time for writing
barely time to tie my shoes
my boy he runs me ragged
and the weather's got the blues.

I need me some alone time
it it wrong to ask for space
when my little man-child monster
gets that look upon his face?
the one that looks for mischief
with a wicked gleam in eye
that lets me know with half cocked grin
that trouble's standing by.

I often wish for boredom
I think it might be nice
to sit there, still, in silence
as the world passes me by.
I'd get on with some reading
do the garden, tidy up
I might even get to see the bottom of my coffee cup (never happens)

Now that I'm done complaining
about how this life's so hard
I realise that I've been dealt
one of life's finest cards...
His hair it smells of meadows,
though his feet may smell like cheese
(seriously, what is that?)
his eyes they melt me everytime
he lifts them up to me
so we'll chase around together
rowdy boys and mucky fights
and I will count the hours
till it's time to say goodnight.

Haters gotta hate
Writers gotta write
Poets gotta wax and wane
about a moonlit night.
Singers gotta sing
Lovers gotta sigh
Me, I gotta go to work
See ya later folks, goodbye!

True love hides behind her smile.
Can't you see it?

I thought you'd done a runner
disappeared into the night
and left without a quick goodbye
I thought it impolite.

You hadn't posted poems
Nor answered any calls
hadn't ventured to your inbox
no sign of you at all.

You really had me worried
cause I know you have to write
perhaps you'd gone and left us
for another poem site.

Then as I woke this morning
my inbox brought a smile
there you were, still with us
just not writing for a while.

You said you're feeling ******
and you're stuck there in your bed
and havent had the will to write,
no poems in your head.

So I'm writing you this poem
as a sort of get well card
the rhythm might be sticky
and I find rhyming hard.

Before I go, one question
out of concern, just for you
because I'm sat here wondering
Do women get Man Flu?

I long to write a striking verse
to make this dark world shatter
but then I see with eyes anew
that words don't ******* matter.

You're the sparkle on the tinsel
You're the twinkling of the lights
You're the tiny bells that jingle
Though you're hidden out of sight.

You're the music in his laughter
You're the mischief in his eye
You're the happy sigh that shook me
as I kissed our son goodnight.

You're the tears that fall in silence
You're the strength that keeps me sane
You're the one I'll always long for
Til someday we meet again.

Please don't take those pills
the ones you told me about.
Lined up, neat rows, single file
in all colours, organised harm.
You said you'd had enough
bone tired, broken you
crying down the line
to bone tired, broken me
as if I could save you from yourself.
No-one ever could.
Sacrifice yourself to life, not death
death is darkness and you, sweetest girl
are light beyond vibrancy
my lullaby at night, my morning song
my fragile, fearsome, wondrous friend.

Why fight against the world so hard?
Does your hatred never stop?
Your poems sit here on my tongue
Like bitter lemon drops

What's shaken your compassion?
who put darkness at your core?
Do you scowl down at the paper
As you write your nevermores?

Why not try being happy
try some kindness one or twice
and shed your bitter cloak for good
defrost your heart of ice

I sit and read your poems
and I wonder who's behind
this anger oozing through the screen
but the truth I'll never find

So I say to you good lady
Get a grip, some therapy
and let a little light in
to your tower of misery.

The walk to school this morning
was an interesting affair
we talked of life and jellybeans
as laughter filled the air.
Your cape it started flapping
In the sea shore breeze
You shouted you were flying
higher than the tallest trees.
You kicked a hundred pebbles up
to orbit round the moon
and on your head you placed a wig
of finest seaweed green.
Then as we approached the gates
you ran inside to play
your cape gone south
your wig askew
that's how you start your day.
The children all dressed neatly
hair parted, brushed and combed
but you my boy, in cape and wig
the finest of them all.

Get up!!
Blue skies and crashing waves are bound!
Warm sand on wet toes ours for the taking!
Come on!

Where do you go? When you're not here? Do you miss me? I do.

I miss the me that was without all that you are.
I miss the me before that moment when the earth stopped spinning at your hello.
I miss the me that believed in love and had not witnessed the irony of your beautiful scars.
I miss the me that didn't hurt, that rode the wave and let things be what they would.
I miss the me that never felt your touch, that never brought his lips to yours.

Now, I am consumed. Swirling within your grief at being taken, drowning within my grief at the sound of our boy's laughter.

Now I am lonely, my thoughts of you driving me further from the light and deeper into a melancholy orbit, where the only existence is within your unbeating heart.

I see you, all the time, a suggestion of the life I could have had, had the reaper played fairly, his attraction to your flame stronger than mine.

There is no regret here, I loved, deeply and without remorse, every inch of your being.

But today, I'll die a little. For you.

I watch you sleeping,
Impossibly long eyelashes, black as rooks
flutter against yesterday's sun blushed cheeks,
small digits twitching,
right thumb firmly in mouth
suckling salt soaked skin.

You are the sea my boy,
the earth, the moon and stars.

I sip at my coffee,
eyed by Spiderman
as the Joker grins
and the Riddler envies Dr Seuss.

This moment is perfection,
a little bit of calm
before the tornado hits
with the blue of your eyes.

I think I'd really love her
That girl stood by the bar
Who wouldn't love the way her ******* jiggle when she laughs...
Or how she tosses her hair with all the vanity of the latest pop ****...
or the way she's ******* on that straw with relish....
Makin' me so **** hot my teeth clench with burning need
I'd soon remove those Daisy Dukes,
to taste what lies beneath
I want her knelt before me
wide open, eyes pleading
begging for it
gagging on it
I want to make her *****, just to wash her clean
this angel drenched in whiskey
with a smile of gasoline.

You're the kind of girl mum should have warned me about
the kind that creeps slowly under skin
the kind that trips fuses in unsuspecting hearts
just by walking past with your warrior stride.
The kind of girl that takes you to the back of a gig
and drowns out the noise with her eyes
as kisses end with a bitten lip and a come get it half smile.
Your face is a lie of innocence
it hides a wildfire spirit
of which Daddy would never approve
his little girl, now a pastime of pleasure,
honoured saintess of the tease
masterfully turning screws
with nimble fingers
before laughing at desire.
Expert level players
fight pointless duels in your name
placing bids to win moments
eyeing the neck of the bottle you swig
while gageing the circumference of your rosy mouth.
I watch them rise at your stare
blood and hope rushing as one
ridiculous in their optimistic dash
to no release.
You're the kind of girl mum should have warned me about
the kind that fashions hope from empty wanting
the kind that views hearts with disdain
the kind I'll fall in love with
again and again.