"barrelled" poems
on your birthday
I wrote a letter comprised
of all that I adored;
words articulated in strikethroughs
and barrelled with smiley faces
to disguise my evident
addiction to your smile
--to your happiness.
and although I value your happiness
the letter remains at the bottom
of my computer
untouched, unsent
because my heart is already
shred to pieces, and the thought
of you dismissing
the words I poured myself in
is unbearable.
words;
they never articulated properly
although I pride myself a writer;
I addressed situations I overanalysed
over countless nights of lost sleep,
where your mouth dropped,
your eyes lowered
your breath grew heavier after
another brutal attack from my unaffectionate
words.
I noted little things;
conflicts within yourself
and wrote about them,
my remedy a simple melody
contrasting the bitter tunes
spat at you, through widened eyes
and curled lips.
That letter is unsent
because it exposes too much
about how often I think
dream
feel
about you.
while I say very little
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
The party starts at ten to three.
On the second floor,room twenty two
two vicars who had come down from Crewe were wondering just what to wear, to the shindig going on down there.
They collided,both decided to put on crimson frilly frocks,this was not a 'do' for cassocks or for smocks.
Room forty four up on the forth,was Lucy Ann,a double barrelled name of course,a horsey type who came by invite to liven lively up the night.
In number ten slept teacup Ken,who had never once imbibed,the porter was slipped a twenty,but was bribed to keep his big mouth shut, as ties were cut and Ken found Zen in a brandy glass,
and discovered parties were a gas.
The police arrived to room fifty five and found Miss Sterling doing the jive around the severed head of Fred the cook,
poor Fred never had any kind luck.
There is no escape from the party at Lancaster Gate and those who come are those who'll die
but the party is so flamin' good I'll try to sneak in,got to take a peek in room number twenty seven,where it's said,that the lady there can show you several kinds of heaven before you meet your doom.
Got to get in, get a room,check in time expires at noon.
I shall no doubt expire,naked by the fire in
room, one o one.
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 4:44 PM UTC
#
shackled to a notion
rubbing through wrists
in rusted remains
of beautifully easy
it's a slow bleed
through insults slung
in fear the unmaliciois
only noticed in hindsight
calling the innocent a *****
doesn't breed hate from love
the duke-yeilding cowardly lion
flings back like a monkey
##
breaststroking a marathon in tears
wading through pain I never caused
pelted with double-barrelled denial
THIS IS NOT WEAKNESS
there is no waver on my solid ground
torn flesh and compound fractures
cannot break harder than history
still, gavel strikes
in sucker punched cracked ribs
that look like a past that ain't mine
###
keep hacking off pieces
maybe I'll fit into those pretty boxes
your liars left as gifts
nasty reminders that trust has sharp teeth
maybe that's just you
biting back any hand that gets too close
pandering in placating platitudes
ain't my bag
flattery fails to flounce from unfettered friends
####
can't be beat into submission
with unspoken broken rules
can't run from a truth in plain view
this is what it looks like
to believe what you know over
what you've lived
I'm not running
I'm not biting back
I'm not going anywhere
then again, why would I
I'm not the one afraid to love you
https://soundcloud.com/user-166761247/a-fourth-in-time-to-cracked-selections-of-music
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 8:04 AM UTC
Left hope behind
Abandoned fights
All vicious signs
Of savage plights
Felt like a flea
A parasite
All savage plea
To savage plight
Oh Sisyphus
Exhausted might
Lay in a hearse
Oh savage plight
Heathen in prayer
God-given right
Sign of the lair
Of savage plights
A crimson snow
And eyes of white
But don't you know
These savage plights
By Doom's own herald, God's own **** creatures all collide
Like ole rye barrelled, seasoned to withstand savage plights
Let woman cry
Let man be scorned
Let savage plights
Shut closing doors
He'll will stay frozen
Heaven forlorn
The savage chosen
***** of Babylon
Live off of plights
All but one savage
Dragged day and night
Your horseless carriage
Call it a burden
That is your right
One thing's for certain
It's savage plights
With mind so prurient
Give humans blights
From West to Orient
Come savage plights
Dorian-like picture on the wall, too mild a fighter for a knight
Was God-forsaken, after all, dealt sole with and to others each a savage plight
Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
When I was 17 I watched a man **** himself,
I remember the morning like it was yesterday,
the air bit at my heels
and it was too cold to be at the skatepark,
there was a lounge area of
weathered tables and pine trees
about 50 yards north,
I still remember the look in his eyes
confusion filled mine,
he was old, around 70
and I kept skating around,
he just sat there with
saltwater in his veins,
holding a long barrelled
30-30 it looked like,
I kept skating and fixating
my eyes on what he was holding,
it manipulated my vision,
reached out to hopeful ignorance
and yanked it through my throat,
we never made eye contact,
his eyes were buried down
a steel thief,
I kept rolling back and forth,
and I never knew thunder had
the ability rip the bearings
from the wheels,
the crack turned the bark
on the tree behind him
to a yelp,
and I’ve never saw blood fly
until that point,
I still remember how fast
it turned from a picnic table
to a crime scene,
how aimlessly the yellow tape
flew in the wind, as if nothing
ever happened,
time forged a signature
on a death note to man
who never felt the chill
bite at his heels that day,
that barrel screaming for forgiveness
knocked at a door with perspective
standing at the peephole,
I saw myself in his shoes
when I saw the life leave his body,
I went back that day
and saw the city worker
spraying the pavement,
running an eraser over
the pen-painted picture
in my mind,
the chill shattered my
porcelain heels that
day and shooed me
away from the
griptape forever.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 2:27 AM UTC
*(smoke barrelled down
the valley and across
the lake, visible
only through luminous
moondust
i felt
security
i saw that
even the darkness
was shrouded in
light)*
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
On the drive from St. Andrews to Aberdeen
I stopped at a roadside cafe,
For toast and jam and tea.
The young blonde server
Took my order,
And never spoke a word.
Then her mother bellowed
From the back of the room;
And her father barrelled through the door,
And a baby cried;
She's wanting more.
This is their country;
She was their girl.
I paid for the platter,
I tipped the teen,
And continued on
To Aberdeen.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC
I roll the possibilities over my tongue
before I even allow them to breathe.
I carry my lids heavy, as if lost in thought
and pronounce:
"Salt, lust, and barrelled in frustration."
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
this body
this temple.
was made for everything but itself.
the pilgrim for the rain to come.
a harvest, not for me but
for you.
eat from me or we'll all starve
but sneak me some bread
if ever you have the chance.
//
how could i ever compete with a body.
if this shell of a temple is
all thats here, a good bargain but
definitely not worth
the investment.
i still cant believe i
armed the gun
that shot me dead.
i took a knowing wrong turn
and still
barrelled down the road.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 2:55 AM UTC
When debt's piled up to a roof
That you can't call your own
Your friends have borders you can't cross
Stuck in a state that's all your own
When lonely can't describe how you feel
Holding tight onto your phone
Cause others could have been through worse
More horrible than you know
They say, "Come now, son,
Take my hand
We'll lead you through the dark
And a path that you can't stand
Hoping to eventually find the way
But you know they don't know the way
There's volumes stuck inside your head
On what you should have done
And memories inside you of
The races you should have won
You stayed a hindrance to your family
When you know you should have run
You held that hand wiping tears
When it should have held a gun
They say, "Come now, son,
It's a bright new day."
But "Why wake up?"
Is all you can say
Hoping life could just go away
But you know it just won't go away
Chorus:
So, please, let me go
I will understand
If you don't cry for me
Cause the path was hard
The trek was long
And I'm begging you
Hear this song
And don't forget me
And don't cry for me
When you could write a book about
The things this song relates
And every word and every line
Come barrelled up with hate
And you feel the only things to blame
Are yourself mixed with some fate
And just pray that this will end soon
And pray you're not too late
They say, "Come now, son,
We can't bury you
We'll hold you up
We'll carry you."
But you won't go that way
You know that's not the way
Chorus
And don't cry for me...
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 12:26 AM UTC
Dear you;
I have tried,
so hard to paint my feelings out for you;
to relinquish those delicate flowers into the raging torrents.
I have always wanted,
you to understand what I do, is for you;
I don’t have to pretend I’m not falling into your fibres and strings.
I have craved your smiles,
to know they are for me, mine for you;
I frolic along with you, hands bound and the world a riot.
I have never wanted to cry for you,
to let myself feel something so large, trembling inside a shell for you;
to feel is also to know I can hurt, wounds and scars do show.
I always was excited by you,
what you could make me sing for, praise in you;
to feel the sudden rise of temperature, soar to new ecstasies.
I have never known that I could predict words for you,
being able to moan and shape them from my tongue;
I know what they are, before you growl them out and
bite me
with those sharped teeth
and I collapse with them
buried deep within,
my head, arms, legs and in between.
Yet, there are things I have always wanted to say to you.
Things locked away, deep;
bottled and barrelled in caverns and crooks.
I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to voice them.
You make me nervous. You don’t help me wrap my tongue around them.
But maybe it’s simply me; I blunder through it all, you know me well.
I have to tell you that I’m sorry we will never be able to know
exactly who we are, together or separate;
there is no one who knows another person so intimately.
We are lovers, but I will never truly know your body like you do;
and for that I only wish to speak in answers.
Never questions.
Or I’ll be haunted by their coldness.
Take care. I love you.
At the same time I’ve already begun to miss you.
Me.
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC
The figure moved; "let by gones be by gones
n'all" called the other reaching for gun.
Shadow flashed, eyes witnessed unsong;
"bound soul flitting shade bound, n'all!" gun sung.
As the bank clerk accosted sought shelter,
the barrelled void looked on with glee. Happy?
What a time to shine we've a belter,
and I'll betch ya bare presents from me.
Animate beings the devils in deets
Replete we so are and we suffer.
In-animacy, the terms quite discreet,
and our ignorance hampers our buffer.
For guns everywhere, unloading despair,
pushing and crushing; the barrels grim stare.
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC
The sirens wail
turning tail to run
shots expire from a
long barrelled gun,
but it's not me
I flee.
it's youths or yutes as they call them today
scallywags robbing tally bags
the neighbourhood goes from bad to worse but
it used to be good
I think
it used to be a paradise
the end of the 60's
beatniks and hippies
free love
flowers and
rainbows,
we didn't know
or we did
and hid these
thoughts away,
baby boom
baby boom
look at today
our fault the system's down
the wiring's kaput and
not just in this
Northern town
"the lamps are going out all over Europe"
is there no hope?
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 6:48 AM UTC
Your hair is longer than before,
Mine is shorter than the last time,
All our dyes have ran out,
Into our natural brown.
Your a little taller now,
With a head,
not hanging as low,
A tighter spring in your step,
As you wittingly walk toward me.
I hated waiting,
But I've never stoped.
Eager, I can not help becoming,
In the shadow of our showdown.
Modest mercy is all I ask from you.
As we fire our double barrelled Deringers,
Bullets that shoot tangible mementos,
Pierce worthless wounds you have opened before.
-Jamie F. Nugent
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 8:50 AM UTC
Sitting in a swirl of unease,
Hope hum's a loving tune.
Erasing traces of fear and chaos,
But clamouring to be heard in full.
A noble knight Hope becomes,
Treasured by the feeble mind,
Respected by the heroic soul.
Hope sits in the metaphysical.
Blushing with discomfort she
Calls to her knight. Hope dashing,
Settles in her mind, lifting her fear.
The villain has passed, her mind slows.
Hope the hero again, her crutch,
No need to strengthen defences.
Hope has galloped to her heed,
Back to the meta Hope rides.
Distaste swells in his soul,
Has she left his heart to die?
Will she take all that was his?
Hope storms through his thoughts,
Lifting one above all the rest.
She cares still, her thoughts are of him.
Hope, chest barrelled slips back
To the metaphysical, cozy once more.
Hope, gentle upon his throne,
See's in the distance Despair,
Who slithers up his golden steps.
She scowls at his taunting grin,
Her eyes keen on his destruction,
But today she has brought tea.
Stepping down from his holy height
Hope stands tall awaiting.
Drooling, Despair pours him
A cup. Her presence greeted
With captivation, and the two
Flow for hours in conversation,
Until both receive call from the
Physical ones again.
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 9:00 PM UTC
I heard the ring of the ambulance
As it barrelled down from E,
But wasn’t really awake, so didn’t
Know that it came for me.
They had me strapped on a stretcher
In the twinkling of an eye,
And only when we arrived, did I
Believe I was going to die.
The pain had been unrelenting since
I’d eaten the evening meal,
It started up in my shoulder, and
My hands, I couldn’t feel,
I felt my head become groggy, till
I finally passed out,
It must have been when I hit the floor
That I heard your sudden shout.
They said it must be a heart attack
So they’d have to run a test,
But while I lay in the hospital
I’d better get some rest.
I kept on coming and going while
The questions filled my head,
I wondered if I’d been poisoned,
Did you really want me dead?
I’d thought that it tasted funny, at
The time, as I said to you,
The meat had had a consistency
As if it was cooked in glue,
And then some of those vegetables
I couldn’t recognise,
You said I’d not know the difference
Between casseroles and pies.
And then, it must be about the time
That my forehead became damp,
You said whatever I knew of food
You could write on a postage stamp,
But you had been acting strangely since
That boarder came to stay,
Spending your time in drinking wine
That he’d brought from Bordelais.
I knew to look for the danger signs
In your long retreat from me,
I knew at once that he had designs
When his hand had touched your knee,
And every time that I left you two
Alone on a sultry day,
I had to wonder what you would do
To while the time away.
Your friend, Margot, has visited me
Alone in my hospital bed,
She said you were picking mushrooms,
Which has left my mind in dread.
She always seems to have favoured me,
And she sat and held my hand,
She said I shouldn’t have married you,
This is what you would have planned.
My mind was full of suspicion when
You came to visit me,
But you had cried, said I almost died,
And that brought you misery.
‘You know that I’ve always loved you,
But that love has brought me pain,
Whenever you look at Margot, it’s
Like losing you again.’
I asked her about the boarder and
She said that he’d gone before,
‘I only ever played up to him
To make you want me more.’
We’re both a prey to suspicions
And the heartache that they lend,
We’re over that, and we made a pact,
Our love is on the mend.
David Lewis Paget
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 2:04 AM UTC
a family name with two parts,
yet what it has to do with
guns , heaven knows.
there is a hotel designed
around that shape, apparently.
looks out to sea.
some times one wonders about the fuss,
and worry, when.
it is only a privet hedge.
sbm.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
Maybe what was good was bad and bad was good
But if so would it hurt that we could
Return and try till we break once more
Till one or the other walks out the door
But in a way that would hurt less than this
Knowing it's over without what ifs
But we're stuck in a limbo, both still in love, can't let go
but
It's not the right time, we'll lose each other.
We know.
Something I can't do and neither can you
Is lose my best friend and lover, though it seems what we have to do.
To survive this, endless pain
How I wish to go back and live it all again
Fix what was good to make it better
Change my heart to realise sooner
That my dream had changed from art to you
And now I'm left in a pit with nothing- without you
As I said.
Maybe what was good was bad and bad was good
Our love was good but we were too young to feel as strong as we could
In that way it was bad
And we'll struggle to fix it
But should we hold onto our chance? Or cut ropes and drift this?
So confused cause you care and act like you love,
but at the same time it breaks me we're not as close as we should
Be.
We should be,
But only in a couple years or three.
But what then when I'm all alone,
Come back and find you've forgotten me?
Or will you be there, been my friend, still in love with me?
Can this grow again, you said that maybe there was a chance.
But I couldn't bare for us to hurt even more in this dance.
Distance is unforgiving but it's what we both need. Is it working for you?
It's not for me
Till the end you make me happy
And at the moment the end is a happier sight
Than that of a life without you, all alone
Even with art it's a fight.
Bad and good, good and bad,
What does it matter if it just makes you sad
I'll chase happiness wherever I find it
At the moment all i can find is you
With your double barrelled pain
Shooting once for like we were, shooting again for distance away.
But I have to take my chances
After I build myself up
You are all that I want now
And I won't give you up.
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
each new green shoot,
shot to hell and back
with a silver barrelled gun
and razed to the ground
with the surface of the sun
is benevolent
to the poor earth
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 11:47 PM UTC
There was no blank canvas
fresh pages nor empty void to fill
There was.
Delicate taps of dancing feet
Roars and screeches in constant symphony
They felt.
Skin curling from scorching heat
Dust choked the lung suffocated the brain
But the rain of fiery arrows still
fell
punctured
sank in them.
They couldn’t make it rain.
What is.
Howling winds crying out a message
Frantic scurrying to seek and secure
Before.
An ever growing snowball barrelled down a cliff
Frost devoured and gnawed for the last scrap of warmth
And then.
They reached. Struggled and crawled and climbed and fought.
For the faint drum of familiar beat
Until.
The indulgence of an only child
Cuts and gouges, rips and tears
Storms of acid, rupture in their
skin
heart
soul
to the very core.
They were very sore.
The child asked for a second chance. Ha! Whatever for?
You wish to enter a broken door.
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 9:57 PM UTC