Even though you did me wrong, I've written a few poems about you.
You came in my house and stole some pills, that was a bad thing to do.
You also borrowed some money but didn't repay what you owed.
Sadly, you can't celebrate this Christmas because you died half a year ago.
This will be the first Christmas since 1969 that you're not alive.
You died six months ago today, you weren't able to survive.
You had a heart murmur but half a year ago, your heart stopped beating.
When it came to death, it was something you had no chance of defeating.

Reach out and touch
The reflective surface,
Nearly-perfect, infinite.
She's an unbreakable object held
Within stasis,
A long-durational sleeper,
Motionless in her far-off stare.

Time dilation may be absolute,
But there's no denial
Of a sundry smile
And questioning brow.

Glass divides she
From true self,
Kept in the hold
As priceless cargo
That once inspired the likes
Of da Vinci.

Thus Snow White wasn't quite dead
When the trap was sprung,
Her day lay in wait
For a kiss of life:
An event horizon.

Lift the lid
It did,
And with a centuries-old yawn,
She fixed her face upon
Her growing public,
And broke through
Hibernation,
To give birth to a star.

If John hadn't died because of drugs, he would've turned forty-nine today.
If John hadn't died, his fiftieth birthday would've been just one year away.
The paramedics had planned to perform CPR but they saw it was something John didn't need.
They quickly learned that performing CPR would've done no good so they did not proceed.
Sadly, John had died and he went to be with the Lord.
His arm was sticking upward, he was as stiff as a board.
I learned about the circumstances of his death from the people who he lived with.
John had done me wrong before he died and the time has come for me to forgive.
I had to threaten him with legal action because he'd been coming in my house and swiping some of my medicine.
I informed him that I'd have him arrested if he came on my property again.
Because of taking drugs, those drugs turned out to be John's noose.
Sadly, he was destined to die because of his many years of drug use.

I stole one of Donald Trump's credit cards five years ago.
I spent ten million dollars and prison was where I had to go.
I bought a lot of expensive things, including a Ferrari.
I committed credit card fraud and I'm not at all sorry.
I hid everything I bought really well so that it can't be retrieved.
Trump has tried to find it but it's something he hasn't achieved.
Trump said he wouldn't press charges if I would give the merchandise back.
I gave him the finger and he spat on me so I had to give him a hard smack.
I slapped the taste out of the President's mouth and he started crying.
Even though Trump hasn't found the merchandise, he won't stop trying.
Yesterday, my sister planted a few of the stolen items in Hillary Clinton's house.
The police hauled Hillary away in handcuffs and they also arrested her spouse.
But Bill resisted arrest so the police had to use tear gas.
They also beat him with their billy clubs and kicked his ***.
The cops believe that Bill and Hillary were accomplices to my crime.
And that almost makes up for me having to do hard time.

I just want you
All of you
But not too much of you
Because I'm bad at giving

I'd hate to **** the life out of you
But I love having your energy present
My energy is dim
But brightens when you're around

I can't help but think I'm stealing your light
I can't offer much in return
I'm enjoying you
And you feel yourself emptying

We work well together
While we never scrape too far below the surface
We understand each other
Supportive and spacious

Perfect for someone like me
Who is afraid to get to close
Perfect for someone like you
Who knows he won't be able to stay

I wish I trusted you
We could be something
But I know you whisper lies to satisfy
You value feeling over truth

Everything is scattered
I pick up the pieces and leave you behind
'Keep your space'
A voice tells me

I miss you
I want you
Where are you
But stay the **** away

The stars fall to the ground
Under the dimming, black
Void
When nothing escapes and
X-rays of pure nothing exist,
Yet collect and ponder the deaths
Zooming; skyrocketing into an infinite loop of fear.
And then silence,
Broken on by the
Clap of thunder and rain
Drumming down into
Every corner of a fragmented skull,
Gaining power and
Holding brains hostage
In their own heads
Just as you realize
Killing doesn’t mean dead and
Love doesn’t mean happy.
Mothers and fathers antagonize while
Nameless nobodies lie awake,
Only closing their eyes when their
Parents cease their incessant
Questioning accusations.
Relying on a whim and
Stealing the stars from the sky.

Mother God planted the seed of joy in me but I am still at war with what eternity entails,
sugar peaches kissed in sunless shades,
the fruits of heavens melt evermore,
cosmic outburst at the limit of human perception,
come, steal my fashion, besiege my immortality.

One for the proactive, that never look back,
On the ticking time bomb that remains in their past.

If you join me on a brisk walk down memory lane,
Be expecting a sprint with hurdles and pain.

Life’s a masala, like a bowl of *** pourri,
Do you have Bernard’s watch, or a cup of tea you can pour me?

The bittersweet taste makes everything better..
Watch me paint my face - the ultimate trendsetter,

While I dance around the truth and shake around the fear,
That’s been shadowing me now for a good 20 years.

It started with a breath and ended with a scream,
As many lives unravelled in silence and bad dreams.

So many scenes forgotten, rejected and deleted,
As my young mind drowned but refused to be defeated.

Defaced and defiled, no attempt to be reconciled,
No retribution resonates with the word *******.

One person to blame, one person Scot free,
One person rewarded immunity.

But would the penultimate moment when intervention intervenes,
Cause combustible chaos awaiting to be seen?

So read my tangle of nonsense words scribbled in scratchy black pen,
As I’ll never be able to colour out of the lines again.

Every ounce of innocence and youth has already been depleted,
Let us mourn a life-post, never to be repeated...

A place unknown, to return again,
A criminal racked with guilt.
Shrouded in the light of sin,
His conscious stained with filth.

He wraps himself in linen hold,
He steals a loaf of bread.
The owner of the cloths gone cold,
And the baker's all but dead.

No cheating, nor chasing, nor any rigged racing
Can help a man's soul feel complete.
His feet may rest, but his mind still pacing
He ducks to an alley from street

He's had his fill of bread, but the outside worlds lacks depth
He finds a place to rest his head, decides to catch his breath