My girlfriend is comming over tomorrow.
We'll have a barbeque with my family and some friends. The day after we'll go to an amusement park with everyone. It's one of the most fun weekends of the year. <3

I lie here, supine
Listening to sirens
Heading out towards the motorway
Somewhere, someone's evening
Has turned bad,
In the streets outside the echo
Of teens on mopeds
Reverberates between the
Terraced houses, squeezing
All they can out of a 125 engine
While squeezing all the joy that is left
Out of everyone's sunday night,
Before we all head meekly to work
On monday morning
Weekend warriors, tamed by
The restraints of finances,
Needing to earn the freedom
Of another fix next friday.
I lie here on my side
A pillow blocking at least some
Of the cacophony,
More sirens head out towards
The motorway, someone's life
Has turned into a disaster
All I wanted was an early night.

Hanging on by a thread,
I feel like the walking dead,
Can't wait to go back to bed,
Oh Lord! When will this week end?

my weekend
of insanity
begins to blend
in my soul of vanity

From friday
to tonight
i fell prey
to my soul's bite

i dealt with
the scream
in my mind
when a dream
was all i wished to find

the going was rough
but the pain
was put to *****
and began to drain

this weekend i survived
the insanity
from which it derived
has hopefully brought back my humanity

And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that
he was the only one for me.
We both knew it, right away.
And as the years went on, things got more difficult --
we were faced with more challenges.
I begged him to stay. Try to remember what
we had at the beginning. He was charismatic, magnetic,
electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in
every woman's head turned, everyone stood up
to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of
a man who couldn't contain himself.
I always got the sense that he became torn
between being a good person and
missing out on all of the opportunities that life could
offer a man as magnificent as him.
And in that way I understood him
and I loved him.
I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.
And I still love him.
I love him.

I walk home under a red sky
back to my dingy apartment
I strip off the garb of the trade
and fall on the inviting single bed
Walls close in, but I'm thankful
for the large window beside my head
To watch the trees
To watch the birds return to their nests

Old coats seem like hanged convicts
From the jagged cupboard hooks
The only thing that is new
is the mountain of books
On my bedside, yet to read
I shall pick one up on the morrow
To feel coin well spent
To feel the surprise - will it be thrill, joy, or sorrow?

I place my blue hardback journal
on a makeshift table of cardboard box
I ensure the fluorescent sleeps
so I do not suffer unexpected knocks
Under a tungsten fire, with royal blue dye
I strike the pages with a fountain pen
To mark the week as done
To breathe back life into the poet again