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Salvador Kent Oct 2021
Blurry eyes blurry face
Distorted voice from a monitor
With a silver edge
Half asleep crawling to a coffee machine
This isn’t where one needs to be.

Remember being cradled softly
A year ago a girl was weeping
When this happened as it inevitably does
But now no one cares half dead
Coffee cup put under the filter

A split second too long.
That’s life for us in a nutshell
Humanity in relation to the universe
It’s all a split second, it’s all
A second too long.

I am a fish tank
And inside me is blood and water
I am a glass of water
I am a bathtub
I am the fundamental component of being

Over a glass of ice in a dim room
Someone says I love you
A flick of a remote and the lights are blue
I think that guy is using you
Who cares a whispered reply, don’t they all?

We all lie we all lie
I am a fish tank
And my vision is blurred
And I had a coffee
To amplify a headache

I turn to you
And you say
Take some paracetamol
And suddenly I was in a poem
And I was never there.
Salvador Kent Oct 2021
She is drinking free coffee
I am sitting across from her
Giggling I can get used to this
I feel so free. The sky is half dark
Walking across the street
I imagine the brush of a hand
But no, she’s taken. Life does these things.
At least she swings my way
From time to time, a lot of people don’t.
I am whispering to myself
I can get used to this. Her arm
Resting by her side is tempting mine
And I am whispering I can get used to this
Crossing the road leaving her behind
The faint smell of coffee
Imagined on her breath even though
She’s taken floating away
I am crossing the road
I can get used to this.
Salvador Kent Oct 2021
******* IDIOT
I must be silent
I must be silent
I am not silent
I must
I must be
Be silent
For to be
To be silent
To be silent
Is to be
To be wise
Must be
Wise ****
Wise I must be wise
And therefore be silent
I have eaten fast food
I am guilty
I must repent
I must I must I must be
Salvador Kent Oct 2021
sin whispered turn me into a sinner
only now dear boy only becuase
you're looking thinner
these days
that's how it all works...

and then a lustful kiss
you were my muse for many years
a lustful kiss
my breath smelt of coffee
Salvador Kent Oct 2021
The last time we spoke you told me
That you were reading a book called
and you also told me that you missed
Digging your fingers into my bedsheets
Or the naked skin of my back

And I remembered this today in the bookshop
When staring at me from the shelf was
in my right hand was selected poetry
By a filthy man called THE PLEASURES OF
THE ****** and I thought **** me
I haven’t thought of you in a while

Perhaps as a fleeting mention
Or the **** of a joke but Christ
Here I am thinking of you sitting on your bed
In the evenings, having come home
From studying books all day like
A smart ****** sitting on your bed and reading

So I picked up a copy to go with
My Bukowski and walked to the counter
In a sombre mood, because I’d thought of you
The last thing you ever bought me
Was Bukowski, you bought me
During my last stay in your arms
Cradling caressing and ******* like lovers

I walked out the bookshop
With two new books and a feeling
You get when you recall a fleeting memory
Coupled with **** me this is what happens
To my poetry when I read Charles Bukowski.
I wonder how you are, if you finished it
What did you think? And staring at
Text thrown up onto a screen I think
This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever written.
Salvador Kent Oct 2021
Half asleep murmuring your name
Imagined in the corners of my mind
Something terribly romantic and
Suddenly a thought comes to my head
Dreamer called an artist buying a drink
Somewhere ambiguous their head
Softly hurting mind harshly hurtling
Towards something unrecognisable
They put words on a page like a virtuoso
Never stopping word after word on
Love and lust and random ****
Hanging around in cafes with girls
And talking to them about art and themselves
And nothing much else because
That’s their subject and them saying
You should have more self love
To the guy and him not listening
He don’t care he don’t care.
I was half asleep murmuring your name
In the corners of my mind yesterday
And I stared at the mirror thinking of you
And repulsively I turned away because
There wasn’t an artist and you
Also were never there. Softly murmuring
I turn away, I am lurking in a coffeeshop
Alone, nothing terribly romantic
No, I murmur french in a Spanish way
Turn to you, and you look away.
out of the arm of one love
and into the arms of another
I have been saved from dying on the cross
by a lady who smokes ***
writes songs and stories
and is much kinder than the last,
much much kinder,
and the *** is just as good or better.
it isn't pleasant to be put on the cross and left there,
it is much more pleasant to forget a love which didn't
as all love
doesn't work ...
it is much more pleasant to make love
along the shore in Del Mar
in room 42, and afterwards
sitting up in bed
drinking good wine, talking and touching
listening to the waves ...

I have died too many times
believing and waiting, waiting
in a room
staring at a cracked ceiling
wating for the phone, a letter, a knock, a sound ...
going wild inside
while she danced with strangers in nightclubs ...
out of the arms of one love
and into the arms of another
it's not pleasant to die on the cross,
it is much more pleasant to hear your name whispered in
the dark.
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