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Simon Soane Jun 2016
It was sunny today,
the hot light
fantastic,
and warm.
After drinks in the pub
we walked back and chatted,
ever ready for talk
us two
but,
said softly
I wish I was with you too.
Simon Soane Jun 2016
I miss you like maps miss fingers,
Like mikes miss singers,
Like bells miss ringers,
Like cakes miss bakers,
Like lakes miss boats,
Like bad swimmers miss floats,
Like politicians miss votes,
Like doting parents miss school plays,
Like nymphomaniacs miss lays,
Like necrophiliacs  miss graves,
Like hypochondriacs miss prescriptions,
Like ****** misses addictions,
Like carpets miss friction,
Like Billy Bunter misses midnight feasts,
Like the grim reaper misses grief,
Like Henry misses the goodfellas,
Like sand sculptures miss umbrellas,
Like Rubix cube devotees miss puzzles,
Like rabid dogs miss muzzles,
Like Van Gough missed his brushes,
Like speed freaks miss rushes,
Like pens miss paper,
Like the Mona Lisa missed Pater,
Like the canvas misses the creator,
Like how the thirsty miss water,
Like the hungry miss food,
Like ***** miss the lewd,
Like the mind misses mood,
Like the tides miss the moon,
Like the sane miss the loons,
Like the dark misses the light,
Like the brave miss the fright,
Like the kite misses the wind.
Like a phone misses a ring
Like every misses thing.
Simon Soane May 2016
Map
The roar of apparatus,
very fine
we speak;
soar the map of clap us
every time
we seek.
Simon Soane May 2016
It's easy to write words about you,
there is no deliberation over syntax,
these letters get
sequential run;
natural as blue sky
holding new sun.
Simon Soane May 2016
Although
it's only a day
until I see you
it feels like 3
million years,
hours of avalanche
before we dance.
Not aware where time is
when we flare
& spark
the zoom of us;
we meld with high fives o clock; hands of the
tick and the tock.
Simon Soane May 2016
Like footsteps that tell of encroachment
you're never
a surprise;
until,
from still
you rise.
Simon Soane May 2016
Being a weekend binge drinker I don’t really like Mondays
my poor fragile mind is in a alcohol daze,
my limbs are slow and heavy, each movement is a trial
I feel like I’ve ran a marathon after swimming the length of The Nile,
I lop around all zombiefied my legs are full of lead
my eyes are groaning loudly, like an extra from The Walking Dead,
I’m on the verge of snoozing, I do that sleepy involuntary ****,
I pinch myself real hard “Si you have to stay awake in work!”.
So I take a trip to the disabled toilet and have a nap on the ceramic floor,
hoping I’ll feel much better after this tad of a tiny snore,
I rouse after ten minutes and decide to control this ***** ridden strife,
I must get a grip soon, I want a grasp on this Monday life,
a light bulb pings out of nowhere to brighten my maudlin mood,
this sweet recovery will be engendered by lots scrumptious of food,
so I indulge in a savoury overload and gorge on toast and crisps;
Discos, Hula Hoops, Quavers and defo tons of Frisps,
on my dinner I scoff a Mac Donalds and then a Greg’s sausage roll,
this hungry Homer gluttony helps to sustain my whole,
the calorific sustenance does it’s job and my hangover starts to diminish,
I gaze at the computer’s clock and think “hey it’s time I finished!”.
I ponder “ohh I can glide home knowing my day is done
and if it stays sweet and bright I can enjoy a few hours in the sun,
after that I can watch Breaking Bad and catch up with Coronation Street
while busting out the texts and having more to eat,
yeah I’m see what Walter White’s up to while being really greedy,
wait a ******* minute, tonight’s when I’ve said I’d help the needy!
*******, **** **** **** ****, that’s my evening of chilling down the spout,
rather than a hammock night in I’ve got to venture out
and feed a load of ungrateful gits who don’t even clear their plates
and ask me if I’m a cross dresser while sniggering with their mates,
rather then see if Jesse gets caught by Hank and how the story unfolds
I’ll have to scrub those scrubbers dishes pristine while wearing marigolds,
as oppose to nodding off reading with a Rustlers under my front room lamp
I’ll have to put a load of cutlery away after making a 20 sugar brew for a *****!"
So I decide the Wellspring is off tonight as I really can’t be assed going
I’ll just graft extra hard for *** next week and keep the drinks a flowing,
so I’m just about to pick my phone up and call in with a excuse that’s pretty lamey
but then I realise if I don’t go I won’t get to see Amy!
Suddenly there is a spring in my step, my motion feels on point
I shower very quickly and post drying roll a joint,
I have a zip in my posture as I sail and blaze down the road
all my thoughts of staying in they instantly erode,
I think “Amy is ace and topper, in her company all is fun
she’d make a day of gloom resplendent with the sun,
her chirping silly noises are always brill in the air
she turns my giggles to def com one, I laugh without a care,
I mean I know I'm hilarious, I can feel my own strengths in my head and tummy
but when I'm with Amy I'm even more funny!  
She makes it all sunny!
Cos we can berate that gormless Declan who eats with the speed of a cheetah
say he's troffing all the time, like a professional eater,
we can spray a bit of water, have a lot of chat
teleport through nonsense with the free degree of claptrap,
chill around the washer where all the cool kids hang
kicking back like Gs, knowing all the slang,
flick a fleck of sausage then have a speaking swirl
flex the talking muscles with sweet balletic twirl.
I mean she's not perfect, she could improve her lot
she's pretty immodest, always going on about how she's so hot,
alright supermodel, calm down, yeah, okay you were blessed with good looks
be you know being arrogant really ******* *****.
And she don't like the ***** cats, her brain must have a feline blur
how can she not warm to their whiskers and their contented little purrs,
her eyes sometimes don't always work and she is optically infirm
and she steals pies from the scrotes, she don't know to wait her turn,
she'd stab you in the back for a go at the counter, she's always trying to grab the lead,
and added to all that she can't even ******* read!
(I'm surprised you can read this actually.)
But i'll overlook these foibles, her flaws aren't yet that drastic
she has to merge some yang in there to be so yin fantastic!
Ahh, in this life where what was can no longer leave a reflection
it's always super to feel the natural flow of connection;
glowing with simplicity
our joyous synchronicity!"
So i approach the door of The Wellspring and feel sweet and glad
and think, "you know for a Monday you aint turned out too bad!".
Tad of context, Wellspring is a homeless shelter place I work at, obvs I don't really think they are all tramps, just fun for the lols of the poem!
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