from death, alive,
the wedding between the good and evil gives birth to the death’s sublime beauty,
far from the depths of darkness,
in the huge void,
nobody can see, feel or perceive,
the truth and nature of the fragile consciousness,
a death alive will **** the spoiled allure of the world,
a touch of death over my eyes,
the gaze which brings sounds and rhythms after life,
death over beauty in the dark,
from void and blankness I rise,
the virtues of the infinite,
dimensions of time and lustful waters soak the mind,
I am the gate of irresistible hell,
passions and fashions of the dark,
the love from death was a temple of endless births,
inside my prowess, inner joy,
I put a spell over the time ending its life and continuity,
today time is finished and vanished from perception,
ending but never,
prolonged by a luring infinite.

Or?  Go figure.  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXIII)


What? as night's blackness is passe in frail
Excuse, the hours now merely for good sense
Um, stacking up whiles I close down from hence
This slim machine for lack of aught else' tale,
And this where Twitter promised to avail
Itself of all my minutes--all's fr'intents
Too dead, dull, boring--I've moved on, pretense
Worn to a frazzle in aught that I'd hail.
Remember:  "I should write more--" to bestir
Me, yet ideas have flown off unto
Is't nether regions?  cuz I "watched in tour"
Who cares who?  Fashions.  "Follow her--what you
Should wear is...THIS."  I've MY own style, in poor
'Scuse, am ergo at odds with all, cool too?

25Mar19b

They were a common or garden,
run-of-the-mill variety
of right weird bleeders.
Individually, nothing I'd not seen before.
But oh boy, together -
it was like the circus had passed through and their apprentice scheme had got left behind.
Mind you,
you could see what they were attempting,
and give them a few years
I'm sure they would figure out a style
and colour scheme
that worked.
For now,
well like I say
- right weird bleeders.

I do, seriously.  Problem is, I want to have babies...



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXXIV)


He said, "You don't need anything fr'intents
In there." as I picked up and flipped t'avail
Through Boden's latest catalogue.  In pale
Excuse I talked of this skirt, or from thence
Stared keenly at the models like their sense
Of perfect:  "you can't live without this" scale
Of being was tops.  Yes, studied aught detail
Like I was nonchalant oer sheer pretense.
If that earned me his lecture on how poor
My chances are of seeing him longer to
Effect are, guess I should have known as twere.
There was not anything I wanted.  You
Can argue that I'm wrong and that's fine too.
My wallet can't afford aught now in tour.

28Jan19b

Gold rings on slim fingers
Long eyelashes batting, bright
Amounting to the moment, no value when the night runs
Men laughing, their eyes full of unbridled lust
Only the tinkling of glasses, carried on a breeze
Rushing champagne from a bottle, embossed with the best label
Outrageous fashions, the fabric thin enough to rip
Under twinkling stars, the players move on
Snakes all of them, their fangs shining in the light.

Gay men often are setting
the agenda for women's
attractiveness; projecting
an ideal femininity onto
someone far from perfect.

Look at all these wannabe gangsters
Terrorising our streets
That one's wearing camouflage trousers
Just wait till you hear him speak
'Dems bear skills mate'
'Can you lend me fifty bar?'
He sounds like he's from Los Angeles
Doing time in the yard
But he's not
He still lives at home with his mum
And his pregnant girlfriend
And he's under the thumb
You see them outside Tesco
But they're not shopping for pesto
Let's go
They've seen the old bill
He's known around this town
For selling dodgy pills
Guns, knives and slang
That's what you need
If you wanna be in their gang
No education
Just a stolen Playstation
And don't forget the ****
Even on a school night
They're out doing speed
You'll see 'em in the park
With a bottle of cider
Then they'll start
On a poor old-timer
Tracky bottoms
And a Burberry hat
Chav fashion
Cause they think they're all that
But the funny thing is
They don't have a clue
They don't think like
Me or you
They think that they're rap stars
Dreaming of fast cars
But they're just wankers
More like 'wannabe gangsters'