The cop asked me for my license to which
I replied what the hell is that.
Officer Tillman  I belive i met your wife in a restroom
down at the laundrymat.
She didnt do ya justice.
Cause you arent  all that ugly
but you are kinda fat.

No my last name isnt Knoxville  but I
sure had some fun in Tennessee.
Met darlin that left a burnin feelin behind just for me.

My life is like a tweenty four hour cartoon.
A wreckless wonder.
If ya wanna ride along theres always room.

Gotta babydoll I often reffer to as Tinker.
She's my favorite semi insane funsize drinker.

Got a amigo or two.
Some fake ID's  cause some people just happen to be looking
for me.
I thought you already knew.

Some people like to hate.
Clive.  Forrest.  Ian.
Dont be jelouse your still living togather in the same basement
no hope ever having none inflatable
date.

Iv'e taken some pretty hard licks.
Put my mind in a blender .
Now all im left with is becon bits.
Im the  ******* of poetry alone I hold the crown.
Some might call me a village idoit.
But I would say im most fun fella in town.

And if ya read this work and still cant see.
You can go to hell.
And thats one thing apon me my imaginary friends
and my little badass tinker agree.

The time I felt tummy hurts
Those that needn't the doctor
Those of hunger strikes in me
I clinged to worry for myself
Before my life discovery.
Was too used to pizza and burgers
Nothing from my own homeland
Though in my search I fell in a direction
An improved variety tabled for us
Down the table I sat, not popular to the world but my tummy signed in
Lost my taste buds to only this
To that I ate like a hired thief in full bites
The bells of Hawaiian, becon, chicken, sausage, all for One
  A Rollecks.....
Marked my anniversary of love for snacks
The place whose memory runs in my blood
The Ugandan Nemo's,
Imprisoned my love for Rollecks
One of a kind shared without regrets

Immune to the depravity.
Enslaved to the creativity.
A weaken soul, to the artist brush.
A becon of burning coals, in the artisans stove.

Two sides of the same coin.

We are writers.
We are painters.
We are smelters.
We are dancers.
We are singers.

We are art.

We are, us.

Miles go I seldom care.
None cross the path fear is adrug I need to exist.
The road my hunting ground  night my  world.

In my view the lights a becon caliing the  road holds no mercy.
The weak shall  be erased.
Im a dealer in pain.

Hell's highway calls me every mile  is a battle of will.
Do you know my name?
speak it in fear of long nights  traveling alone.

Souls matter none for it's  the flesh I yern to own.

Its hard to concentrate
When your thoughts rattle around
Like machinegun fire
Caught in complicated clockwork
Trying to captivate
One cognitive idea
About Life
Conglomerate

While the tapestries
Of cliches attempt
To coalesce as they
Cascade
Only to fall away
As they dribble out my ears
The critics are unimpressed.

There is no one on this earth
Who is still interested
In simple lyrics backed by
Overwhelming overtures
When the focus is on expenditures
And the bottom line wont budge

Its as if it holds a grudge
Torturing visionary artists
Hiding in their closets
From monsters under the bed
And detained by superego authorities
While alone and afraid
Locked in Negative Headspace

But the artists becon of light
Is an ironic twist of common life
In a pedestrian plight
Captured on 8mm film
And put on Lifetime.

How do you write a song when
The melody is wrong
But the lyrics flow from the hand
Like the last latent ramblings
Of a dying, possessed man
Onto the page as
The imaginary lines fade
And the surreal becomes real

And in your head its something you can hear

In your gut, its something you can feel

But the fingers on the guitar
Cant catch these falling stars
And before we go to far
Its time to take a step back
To breathe

The guitar bleeds
But its blood isnt music
And if you turn away you lose it
As the sound gets trapped behind
The saturated limitations of the mind
The brass threads slowly unwind
Only to stab you in the neck.

And still,
The critics are unimpressed.

We have no choice in our birth
Or the time we are brought into this earth
Henceforth tis only by a want
A choice not to be flaunt
It's a fight that will only put on delay
The day when we kiss this world away
Destined for a date unfathomable
But to some the beauty is discoverable
Each soul lives by self a self goal
Wonderful wants tucked into a unique skull
To some the end is a terrible fear
Others becon it near
"Love thy neighbor"
They may be poor
Or
Shut you out with the slam of a door
But, if you love you can do no more
We will all face the hooded reaper
It can end in a gentle whisper
Or a terrible fight of terror
For many including i
We don't wish to die
But there are those who suffer
Whose choice to live is to worse than the other
We all wish to save eachother
And yet must discover
Dieing is a salvation
To a burdened soul without any hope of a collection
Of their deserved happy memories
Denied to them since infancies
As awful truths as these
Death is no disease
I love you
And no matter what may be
That is true

The last fruit and vegetable shop closed today ,
part of Ashford has gone away ,
next door to the church for fifty years ,
Dave and Jim and Brian will never get old .
Vegetables with no cling film ,
or selefane wrapping ,
Mushrooms as large as you’re hand ,
Kale in bundles not sold in plastic bags ,
Plumbs prunes and potatoes.
Peaches apples and pears ,
purple brocole all tied in a bundle ,
all sold in brown paper bags .

The fish man arrived once a week ,
Where from Grimsbys shores we bought . .

The bells rang out on Sundays,
Where at Christmas,
Trees would be bought ,
Lined one by one  .

So tomorrow the supermarket s will becon ,
with their plastic wrapping and plastic bags ,
So spare a thought for the fruit and veg ,
With no plastic wrapping and celefane veg ,
the old shop where the community shed a tear ,
for Ashford’s last fruit and veg ,
has been and left here .

Last night I saw a picture ,
from 1910 ,
yes  I guess they were still there way back then .

I do not write words of passion or sorrow, I write them for thoughts who won't see tomorrow. For she was my angel who fell from grace, ice to my fire she left not a trace. I am Able, Electra, shadow and fire. I come for thoughts who evil inspires. The fire in my belly is quite literal. my friends are the 4, there are worse things then death, and worse things than war. 7 sins and 9 ways to hell. I will be there as well. I will becon you here as a angel on fire, I will carve a path in your blood to my little hell.  And we will rest here forever. Now isn't that swell.

Leave me here.
I can't imagine what else to do with myself, or my life.
There isnt anything interesting.
The amusing moments only lasts for five seconds.
I becon for help.
I reckon that it wont work.
I'm not that old yet, and I already take my youth for granted.
I'd rant it all out, but I don't know what to say.
It's nice that you want to help.
But I'm stuck on this shelf, I need to help myself.
Leave me here please.
Don't tease me, if I nees your help, I will come to you
I can do this..
I hope

A RADOX LIFE...

Peace at last ,alone in the bath
wondering how long this may last..
water steams so hot I add extra cold, mix with me toe..
Radox stress relief bubbles foaming suds.
I lye within this little peace of heaven,
stretch out in me giant bath,
as you see im a tall lass.
At last..the tension unraveled..
 like the bog roll I see beside me,
the kids earlier were playing mummies..
Not me no, the Egyptian kind..
But this bath tomb now cradles me.
Looking down I think greenpeace could becon,
I'd give shamoo a swim for her money I reckon.

peace at last, alone in the bath,
wash away stress of the day.
Christ I'd be scrubbing night and day.
Red circles I inspect on my legs,
was shot earlier by a nerf gun.
 Until dead..
Several times..
 Again n again.

I can hear my husband downstairs,
playing referee with the girls that I'm blessed.
I'm staying hear as my ears repair,
my girls how I love them dear.
As I'm preening daily tensions away,
not much longer in hear can I stay.
for my toes n fingers wrinkle,
may also have tinkled...
As I pull the plug clean away.

Looking like a super sized rhubarb and custard..
Pink **** n backs of me knees,
I disembark the comforts of the bath.
slightly chilled now feeling at ease.

I want her to know..how much she really means to me.....I want to be there when she falls .....always answer when she calls
If she sheds a tear....tell her I will always be near....when she wants to talk......or maybe just take a walk
Anytime she needs me ......I will be where ever she wants me to be
So Baby if the sun refuses to shine.....I will reassure you that everything will be just fine......I want to let her know that when ever she needs me I will always be there
Baby so if our train slips the track.....I will always make sure we make it back
These shoulders are not just here for me .......they will be there for you to lay your head upon can't you see
So all I am trying to say I will always be there when you need me......just call me once and you will see
If the day is just out of whack......or if those hornets are ready to attack ......it doesn't matter what it is big or small ....or even if it's nothing at all
That is what I am trying to say......I will always be at your becon call......

3:16 am

I am missing you.

I am missing the
still beat
of your
heart.

I am missing the
way your body
fits beside
mine and
warms me.

I am missing
your sleepy
green eyes
and the way they
becon me
back to my
slumber.

3:17 am

I am missing you.


(m.a.)

i have good and bad days. its just that the bad days outnumber the good ones. and sometimes the bad days get really bad and i lose myself in my thoughts. sometimes the bad days get so bad that i can feel my heart aching and trying to burst out of my body. sometimes the bad days get so bad that i forget to treat myself like person and instead, beat myself with sledgehammers and hockey sticks. but sometimes the good days are so good that i skip around dancing and singing all day. i smile and laugh and forget the bad things and become this becon of light. i just shine and shine and infect everyone around me with all the pure happiness i project. sometimes the good days are just the day where i dont break down. sometimes i have good days and sometimes i have bad days. im hopeful that the good days will outnumber the bad ones, eventually.

I look back to move forward
Now stained with memories, my feet flounder...
I'm drawn to the patterns of my past
Casting shadows in the now
The becon of my future not as clear as I've envisioned...
Caught up in the woven net of yesterday
tangled and confused
I seek a compass to turn my topsy turvy direction true north.

She hid herself from my sight ,
Of which i could not embrace ,
the beauty of her loving touch .

The crystal waters of the seas ,
reflected gently on her breeze ,
all of which were not mine ,
but borrowed from her wings of time .

Yet before do I now tremble in fear ,
for the crystal waters becon me near ,
never to look upon her face stretching out towards the mountains .


There the shallows of dark waters where ,
caught like moonlight in the air ,
she pulled me under ,
Without a care ,
as if I would ever follow her there ?


And there she stood in crystal white ,
her eyes beamed ,
though they hid not light,
and I was able to see her face ,
it shone as if it were white .
My lungs were full ,
I could not breath ,
and slowly ,
slowly ,
I sank to my knees ,
then .
All  went black ,
Indeed .

Light filled my blackened gaze ,
all was lost
untill I heard her say ,
‘ take my hand ‘ .
and so light entered by moonlight ,
my soul I surrendered to thee .