did it feel good?
sitting there, intoxicated by devils blood
another night washed away
followed by that soughtfull delay

did that feel good?
seeking a pair of glass eyes
a set that's making you question your disguise

was it pleasant?
how you swallowed the past
and cleared out your oesophagus

was it all worth it?
feeling that euphoria

as the music plays loudly in the room I had made into my home
I put my phone down and get out of bed
as my feet hit the cold, creeky winter floors
I begin to feel this rush of pure joy
the music makes me jump up and down, throwing my arms around wherever it feels right
I do not know how to dance but I listen to the way the music moves me
at this moment I do not think about the boy who doesn't love me or my mother who so desperately wants to leave this dreadful planet
No.
at this moment my head is empty, no thoughts that could bring me down
suddenly, the song ends
I stop dancing and crawl back into my bed
what a joyful moment that was

until that song plays once more...

I wanted to write a poem
about the incessant discomfort
I always feel in my left eye
whenever my contact lenses
become old and dry
I thought about how it tickles
but scratches at the same time
and starts off alright
just a minor annoyance
but quickly, overtime
becomes almost unbearable
like my pre-school bully himself
is folding down one of my eyelashes
just enough for it to poke me
at the slightest movement
then I thought about how
I'd sooner write a poem about my life
and how it started out equally alright
and quickly, overtime became almost unbearable
as if my pre-school bully didn't do it right

so I found him in his adult life many years later
wife, two kids and a mortgage
yappy staffy-cross, two cars
and an alright job as a graphic designer
his garden full of gorgeous flowerbeds,
a full head of hair and a fading right hook
"MAKE ME FEEL **** LIKE YOU DID THEN."
a puzzled look on his face,
garden hose flooding his drive and the yappy
staffy-cross still yapping away
at the living room window
"I'M DEAD SERIOUS ANDREW,
NOTHING HURTS LIKE IT USED TO."
so he called the police
and I never got to feel young again
unless you count scurrying away from
a council estate under the threat of
a poor meal at Parkside police station
the rekindling of my youth

so this is my infomercial poem
about how not to confront someone
always be fully clothed
that's very important
avoid being drunk
any mind altering substance
is best avoided in my opinion
remember just because you care
just because you remember
does not mean anyone else does
oh and
don't eyeball craft beer when
you still have your contacts in
you know what?
-just don't eyeball craft beer

Raise your glasses high,
tonight we won’t cry,
the wine is pouring,
and my love is at home, mourning.
Next round is on me,
we’ll get more drunk than sailors at the sea,
just drink from your wooden tankard,
until everything around is blurred.
Let me hear you cheer,
spaced-out from ***, wine and beer.
This is our last night,
next day we march to fight.
Now, let’s dine,
cause tomorrow by this time,
we’ll be dead,
and our clothes will be red,
like this delicious crimson wine.

empty bottles everywhere
awkward glances and longing stares
you’ve caught my eye, i can’t look away
makes me want to know your name


but i carry on sipping my drink
and try to dance with the music in sync
desperately trying to look cool
and pretending I haven’t noticed you

Channel South.
The Mississippi fold
Whipped midnight dust
From the quiet cages
Of homeless graves.

The dead awake
To low night music
As yellow electric light
Mirrors the slow flow
Of gorgeous life
That loves to shine.

So speak to the fine eyes
As if you found them
In a great Khan’s garden,
Elegant and wild

O silver and black knight of the forest,
what goal have you taken up for the castle?
"I seek to slay with my beauty only..."
"Slay those cries and moans from lonely damsels."

"What business does an evil eye have in the land
of purity and repose?"
"I have many good deeds fine guardian."
"Then enter secure, but let no evil in, or you will be cast
out."
....
"You have no business here until your
wicked deeds are paid for, get out!"

"Hey, that's okay," a fair damsel
allows me to part from my solitude.
Put on the sandy veil of partnership, for the spirit has
reached into the divine female and divine male.
Let those chakras make a transpersonal point,
but sacral business is all I see.
Maidens forever young.

It seems an eunich has breached our display.
But are we allowed back into the land of purity and repose?
It seems the true goal of a babe's heart
at the lap of his mother has entered the lair.

Now is the fair damsel taken to the merciless judge.

Now is a beautiful friend, waiting all this
time, to exchange a breeze
of heartfelt love.
****** purity is sought after, yet
there is no place to hide a ****.

Light no longer is transferred from the 8th dimension.
The male/female chakras above the crown open up again
for sacral play.
The sattvic essence remains,
and I am held dearly at this party.

The children outlast me during the night.

I enter through a circular gate of pastel crystal petals
into a deck of superstrength beings
of all colors.
A female face is grafted to mine.
She puts on silver and black armor
and the walls are crimson.