Fat bride Jenny,
Went to see Dr.Benny,
Had gas and constipation,
Could not eat her favourite venison.
The nurse asked her to get up on the scale,
The scale gave a yell,
The scale huffed and puffed,
The nurse in fear trembled and coughed,
The scale cried,
"We need your weight,fat bride,
Not Your Mobile number,
Get down, don't mount me ever."

I miss them
missed them
kissed some of them
loved all of them.

Holy ghosts
move the goalposts
when it suits them.

I'm listening to the fireworks
at least
something works in
broken Britain.

On a scale of one to ten how bad does it hurt?
The doctor always asks this before giving you any form of relief.
And you lie and say it's an 8 when it's really a 5.
Afraid the remedy related to the number won't be strong enough.
Afraid you'll still feel the pain and there will be nothing more to stop it.
Afraid that it might never feel as good as it's going to feel in this moment
This moment is the last you get
And I'm afraid
I'm afraid this pain in my chest will never stop
And no matter how many bottles of ***** you go through it will never feel that way again
That moment when you're anticipating the pain but it's not real yet
You're just looking at it
And then the words come out and it's reality
Your world is crumbling and there is nothing anyone or anything can do to stop it
So I lied and said it was a 10 when it was really a 15

As the sound of her footsteps diminish in proportion to her figure
her shadow lengthens across the street
The horizon eats everything and I am always on the inside
from that same hunger I yell, please.

/

She told me a secret
Now I make maps from empty pages
and hide my poetry in her
I believe in nothing else

/

In the emptiest hours of evening
through an open window to your kitchen
stray animals are lured by the scent of flavours they've never tasted
and I knock on your door hoping you are not home

/

In spite of the chemicals
and circumstances that we are
I kiss the stars and lose my place
upon the pages you are writing

/

I long to be collecting
on your tongue
like snowflakes
like secrets

/

I see now
how
after the third try
a genie fails to complete
what comes naturally
in your arms

/

childhood is a secret we'll remember someday;
for the heroes we were, for the monsters we saved

/

hope everything falls out of your pockets
hope you arrive at the gates empty handed
hope they can forgive you for arriving empty

They try to label me,
Tell me who I'm supposed to be
But I'm not giving in to that.
On a scale from 1 to 10
They try to tell me how I am
But I'm better then that,
I don't need your numbers because

I am perfect as I am
I don't need you to tell me
Who I'm supposed to be.
Hey, why is it we get objectified?
Told we are not perfect as we are
And that we have to change
In order to belong.

Why is it everyone wants to be on top,
Looking like the "perfect" person they see in magazines?
Nobody seems to realise
We're made to be who we are
Not some fake idea
And unrealistic dream where nobody feels good enough.

We are perfect as we are
We can be whoever we choose to be
There's no reason that
We should change at all.
We are not somebody you can alter
Or try and squeeze into that box
We all belong as who we are!

I don't want to sit around waiting for a knight in shining armour
I want to be my own hero
And not let people change that.
Why cant I be who I'm meant to be
Is that so wrong?
Will it ever be seen as perfect
To be who we are?

They try to stick me in that box,
Label me and make me feel small
But I can't give them that power.
On a scale from 1 to 10
I am perfect as I am
I don't need someone telling me who I'm supposed to be,
Because no matter what anyone says we are all perfect as we are.

Today I am holding on tight to nothing
and it is just enough to keep me breathing.
How marvelous to be an ordinary artist
who can survive on so little.
You taught me that a kiss matters
more than all the pain and terror on earth.
I leave the world's problems to its big men.
I am a small man working only on problems
a small man might hope to solve.
Why are there birds? What do dogs think?
Why do cats purr both when happy and sad.
Why do you taste like lost oceans?
These are the mysteries I care about.
The curve of your cheek matters more to me
than stock markets, earthquakes or wars.
My hands caressing your human *******
matter more than tsunamis and revolutions.
Your voluptuous *** speaks ****** volumes
about where the world should pay attention.
I would gladly lie down with you in Eden
smelling of apples and the loss of eternity.
I sing only for helpless humans and animals.
Let the wealthy and powerful purchase their
own poems though I doubt they even care.
I am content to feel the texture of your hair
and celebrate your green eyes with humble words.
We are human, we are warm and we are here.
That's enough for me, maybe more than I can bear.
I am holding on tight to nothing and I do not fear.

~mce

You're a solid nine.
But seven ate nine.
I guess that makes you a ten, then.