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Gary burns Sep 2021
Rain rain , sun burns , wind , the train that might stop at the stop that stops me .
Fun in the heat
Drags , smoking cheap ***** like baccy was just fine , clouds over am nearly smiling again .
Bus to shitsville I don't care , the stops look mostly the same , the shops sell mostly  the same , I never got off the bus , i was going no where and probably back to my illness anyway.
Sunshine again , the humans got of and took in the the same middle town sights, I took more of myself prescriptions  , went to the  toilet on the coach, not  a lot happened  , a slight passing of *****
There now all back on now and the next stop is  definitely get off place , tall trees green grass  high bridges and another small cafe , with lost people just like me x
Gary burns Aug 2021
I just don't know  what to do with myself,  so I've taken to living in a shell.
The stench is putred
But it's my new crustaion, away from the nation and people who give me unease , I'll stay here alone in this new home,  survive on the slime on the walls just fine, The previous resident left me
Gary burns Aug 2021
The yellow straw like bleached hair suitable to her look was just fine ,
The bar was mostly empty , just lost souls, the stale smoke and stale smell of un washed folks staring into empty glasses , waiting to be filled again strangly made me feel welcome.
As I approached the bar the tender asked what's your poison , just a beer and a shot of your cheapest liquor , I savioured both glasses and asked for just one more double of the cheap liquor.
As I drank it down
My cramps now gone , again it was up to my liver .
Gary burns Aug 2021
Well am still on this road, that holds no gold , just a *** of sour memories,
The more I search , there is no help just people with false dreams.
I drunk them dreams took em too the streams of unfashionable places to be ,

Got wrote off tore off drunk some more of the jailer I called queen .
Layed my head down sought the liquid crown , and that was the end for me.
Or so I thought
Till I lost the plot in a small town just of the Ochiltree  vally.
Queer folks rambling,  trading anything for gambling , drinkin gut rot home stilled unpleasantries,
I picked my way , from this  darkest of  days and now lie in my wooden box regardless
Gary burns Jul 2021
The belvidere tar ,was soft , picked at with intent ,
Sour leafs often tasted , but never quite ingested
The sap of the finest dandy , seemingly made for a leak in your bed ,

When elvis died,  my first memory of music pain , his Saturday crap movies set a standard,  it was rock n roll, I am not ashamed,

Then punk rock playing from another room,  my dearest brother, oh **** by the buzzcocks,  a new sonic boom .

Music  from the pistols to the bee gees and Handel,  its makes me what I am ,from the summer of 77 tar stained blue sandals
Gary burns Jun 2021
I spend endless hours
With questions no
Answers,  my brain
Not easing , should
Be this way that way
So confused my heads
Feels  naked unsure
Habit forming mess

I do look at our planet
I also try look after oor garden
Although jackie has made it
The smell from her planting
Our bees are not stressed

So as I look from my window
With a half ****** head
I am generally encouraged
With whatever life gives .me next
Gary burns Jun 2021
Your veins
Like old yellow
Doc
marten laces
Your smile
Places we laid in
Your touch
Always the taste of
Sweat on our trade ins

Pleasure was seemingly
Empty embraces
Drowning on our
Over indulgence
Your habit and mine
Distilled of the finest

Sweet dreams
The fix that would fix us
Left you cold
Kissed air to your lungs
Now your gone
I ask for forgiveness
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