He knows I'm a poet
Not just because I told him
but in my cadence.

Conversations through a screen
I've seen your pictures but not your face
and you mine.
But we talk like old friends
and you make me genuinely laugh.
It's more then puffs of exhaled air
actual sounds.

"you have a way of speaking I like"
he said
"I'm crazy interested in something you wrote"
he said
"oh no"
I said
"It's not my best"
I said
"best or not "
he said and I blushed

A man who cares
Is all I've ever wanted

She's like ink on parchment paper
Solid with faded edges
She's got a lot of weight while being light
Trying to make sense of the shape
At the same time respecting it
I respond in kind by being weightless, a feather quill
To her I am a threaded needle, continuously progressing into a seam
Starting from the beginning until the end
Making a garment without any shape or form
Responding in kind with a letter of my own
A
Ey!
Hey.
As cryptic as where we started
It has potential to end
If I continue our thread there could be a *** of gold that isn't a fool's
There could be a painting made for my frame
There is something about her skin that deserves solid lines
That stretches out toward the strobe lights
That makes its way toward the true light
If paradise was meant for the wicked
Then we are created to balance good and evil

There is this guy I know, I call him Sabby.
He is pretty great.
He is funny and smart, he makes me laugh.
He likes the same music I like.
He asks me serious questions that are funny at the same time.
He is super sweet and I really like him.
Friend or more, I don't know yet.
We are still working on that.
But I still am glad we are friends.
He's the best:)
Love yah Sabby.

For a short time we met
I thought I knew you
We shared ideas, and laughs too
Some hobbies and music too
This went on for some time
Even world's apart
We were just a text away
Different timezones
We adjusted a little well
Everyday we would text each other
Excited, for everyday
Every Phone buzz
Thinking it was you
And most of time, it is
I would answer instantly
Whenever I had the chance too
I thought we understood each other
Like a real friend
In the online world
Then it happened
One day, you were asking for more
Something that I cannot give
Everything changed
And so did we
Thank you for the lesson
I've learn't for a short time
Goodbye, to memories that we have created
Illusions that I may have of you
For I know, they are not real
And so are you

Ladies of the Net… A warning to male adolescents everywhere…

“Hi Honey….I just got matched with your profile”… At least that’s what I think it said.
Brilliant I thought because I’m available and life round here is, well…it’s dead
“I’m looking for an experienced guy who’s good in bed…  been round the block, but not the clock…
One with plenty of experience and a huge…err…appetite…
for hooking up instead of these inexperienced boys…
They’re all excitable, probably all over too quick…
need someone with poise reserve and a twelve inch errr… Libido?… ego?
Click my pics kiddo and let’s get it on… you Stud!… Well I would!

*******! I’m overwhelmed but let’s not peak too soon…
There’s loads of stuff coming in as Spam that would probably make us all swoon.
So check it out…without fail, “eeeh!”  They’re all there - these ladies of the net - they crop up daily -
Sheila Blige… Tanya Hide… Mandy May,  Bette Sheedus, Lovinia ****…
I’m not sure if these are their real names... But - Phew -
with things like this going on round here we could all get *******!

She says she’s just round the corner, you know like Sompting, Steyning, LA (that must be Littlehampton)… Southwick…Little Haven Halt, Portslade.
We could meet in a lay-by and we’ll get laid… just an innocent little escapade.
It won’t be my fault if you miss this chance…
Just try it - I’ll handcuff you to the bed and lap dance.
Click on my pix, big boy, they all beckon.
Take a closer look at these sonny boy - now what do you reckon?

Well, you’d have to say they do look very alluring in the taster…
so why not just click...
to the next page… see the site… don’t waste-ya time…CLICK!
*******! The screen’s gone blank…
now I won’t even be able to have a __
Knock, Knock, Knock!

"Kevin!!!?"..."Mum?" "Is that you?" "Yes Mum!… Everything’s OK!… I’m just turning out the light… G’night!"

Bob Dylan’s hats mean more to me than a requited lust for fame.
On our screens over the summer months,
with it’s logo slapped obnoxiously onto the water cooler -
covering more pressing concerns.
As people rant and rave, the so called stars of the show are prominent for a matter of days.
In their fifteen minutes of fame they become better recognised than a man called Dave.
Some are hated for things they have said or done.
trending on twitter and being memed from day one.
But as the winter solace rolls into place
Everyone forgets the familiar face
that pranced and clapped on morning TV
What was his name again who was he?
What once was a Dave is more like a Huxley or Mort.
He was far too easy to replace, when fame hit abort.

I’m starting to think she may have died
gone up to blue tick heaven after being verified
Caught up in a mockery of an internet led democracy
World wide fame to blame for the tragedy
Her Tightened grip on reality was merely a saga of concise works of fiction.


She tried to Reach out for profanity and found a hundred degrees reality.
Well It all means nothing to nobody now
Here comes latest trend you’d be mad not to bow.

Been inactive for days lost track of the newest craze
Whilst her exploits were insightful
They ultimately led to her downfall
Spin the wheel line up to play the game
Because nobody remembers your name
Only your handle.

I’m starting to think maybe she lost her mind
all of the tape unravelled when she tried to hit rewind.
There was no filter there when she opened the window to look outside
without the second source she was unable to decide
she went offline to go backpacking in the sky I wonder why?
It all seems so alternate
With her curtains drawn at the break of dawn it seems so analogue.
She had a shockproof phone case but I can’t say the same for her mind

There’s a brilliant world of words and wine
Hidden behind the curtain:
A barrier of stares and smiles
Shyly given, modestly strained.
Each subtle push
Met with an even gaze.

Tell me more about yourself -
Your secrets
Your lies
Your favorite memories
Your darkest times.

There’s much more here
Than society allows we breach
On a first date meeting
In the middle of the week.

Sure, you swiped right
And that means you think I’m cute
But do we have a connection
Deeper than this Champagne flute?
I don’t want to talk about the weather
Or what your roommates do.
This isn’t an ad on craigslist,
You have nothing to prove.

Now you’re checking your phone
At every silence
*** we’re hardwired to our handheld
Asylum.
And if we aren’t leaving together
The night's been a bust.

No gain, no loss, no truths to wrestle -
No point finding a soul
In a hollow vessel.