How does it feel, walking the rainwashed streets without me ?
I hope your hand is comfortable in your pocket,
Or a hand you chose over mine.
On the dining table we never dined
"together", its warmth froze in my heart.
The soup always went cold
and I counted every single bean
Never seen, or tasted before .
I binned the beans and bid them farewell.
I went back to my cold bed
and felt my head explode
and felt my body twitch in need
Oh honey! Lest your soup go cold
Lest you count your beans.
I ate the trashed beans and beamed.
How could I trash the green of your eyes that spoke through the beans?
I think I'll leave the empty bed for sale
It's a free life in jail
without you in my veins.
With me in your dustbin

When his eyes first fell upon her
She was choosing avocados
In the fruit and vegetable aisle.
And he watched how her thumbs lingered
On the base of the alligator pear
And pressed, maternally.
He feigned interest in the cabbages
Whilst sensing her delicate architecture
Through his peripheral gaze.
He thought that somewhere,
In real or imaginary life,
They would soon bathe together.
And when they did,
They soaked for years in secrets,
Details suffusing through their lips and arms,
Water-hole satisfaction and moonlit deserts
To make them feel they might have transcended cabbages
And be pervading a rhapsodic realm
They forgot their friends watching in greenery,
Subsumed by each-other,
They felt no need
To live in a world of relativity and apples.
Their love-traced sphere tightened around them,
Until it ****** at the edges of their skin
And wailed when they parted.
Tighter it grew, elastic dug into their humid thighs
Contorting their once harmonic bodies
That used to fit like crosswords.
And they each became ugly to the other
As the seconds ingested their perfection
And they bickered like flailing urchins
In a deep sea soiled darkness.
Decisions were made and paroxysms detonated
And they were taken back by their
Fungal friends with tissue offerings
And ethanol.
Time passed, and memories were binned
Periodically on tuesdays
Until neither knew the other
And they would pass in the supermarket
With no more than a quickened gait
And a silent thud in each ribcage.

But neither could buy avocados.

Don't worry it's not what you think
Another tale of woe
Of Tiny Tim and all the rest
And the ending we all know
Scrooge and ghosts and la de da
They do it in one night
But, that was Charles Dickens way
It's time we got it right
Nobody works the way they did
The poorhouses done and dusted
If Scrooge was here and lived today
You know he would be busted

So, I'll bring you up to date on this
And Scrooge can come on too
It's been a couple hundred years
Let's make this carol new

Scrooge had let Bob Cratchit go
Due to labour laws and stuff
He didn't have a union
But old Scrooge had heard enough
Every year the same old thing
And every year he cries
It's only for one day each year
At least till his kid dies
So, Scrooge was sitting home alone
Checking files on his screen
Debtors owing money and
Re runs of Mister Bean
Scrooge kept his accounts on line
So he could work on them at home
He got more done here anyway
He felt more comfortable  alone
While surfing through his evict notes
A pop up screen appeared
It said "I am The Marley Virus"
And Sir Scooge, I should be feared
Scrooge cursed the interruption
He thought the virus was a joke
But, when he tried to clear the screen
A face appeared and spoke
Right there before his rheumy eyes
His partner showed his face
Ebeneezer hit delete
But Marley held his place
I'm not a ghost like olden days
I'm a virus now you see
I've moved into the future
And Scrooge you must hear me
You will not get a visit
From three ghost like stories old
We've gone hi tech, it's apps you'll get
And your story will be told
Three icons will be on your screen
Once I have told my tale
You'll click on each of them in turn
And you'll ignore all your mail
Each application will come forth
And will take you back in time
Remember Scrooge, the end result
Could be the same as mine
But, Jacob, I'll delete them
I'll run a scan and then reboot
The reason for your being here
Will then be surely moot
Marley let a piercing howl
And he left Scrooge with his screen
The were just three icons there
Where his desktop once had been
Scrooge clicked one, it opened up
It was Christmas past for sure
A video of Scrooges life
Was playing now, and more
The background everchanging
Showing Scrooge in younger days
When greed and avarice were not
The ruler of his ways
Remember now, we're modernized
No ghosts, so all went well
Scrooge remembered all the good times
As far as I can tell
The video ran on and on
It showed Scooge when he was nice
He thought you know when all is done
I might just watch this twice
The screen went black, the music stopped
And two icons took their place
He clicked on icon number two
And he opened up it's case
Donation links appeared at first
To charities galore
But Scrooge just passed on over them
In fact he showed them to the door
He saw the files of eviction notes
And of receivables and charts
He knew that he would lose one day
And the next, would need to start
To work on all this quickly
Year end would be here soon
He'd evict all of the deadbeats
And then they'd sing a different tune
He saw pictures of Bob Cratchit
Of his family and his brood
Of their meager Christmas Dinner
And the apparent lack of food
He saw how they were happy
How just together meant so much
And beside their electric fire
He saw a tiny crutch
He watched the clip and saw the pics
And in the end it warmed his heart
But there was still another icon
And this app must play it's part
You know where this is going
So, I would drag out the tale
But, in the end all his possessions
Went on line for a huge sale
He clicked upon the icon
And all his files reappeared
And then ...right before him
Each account slowly disappeared
Written off, deleted gone
No money did they owe
The ledger had been vanquished
No balance did it show
This took almost two hours
Each entry in the wind
All accounts forgotten
All eviction notes were binned
Scrooge, we know was changed then
We heard he was a better man
But, in truth he only changed one thing
A new virus protection plan
Remember, it's the future
And corporate greed is still around
And no accounts will be forgotten
Till Scrooge is six feet in the ground
I know you know the story
You want him nicer in the end
But, if that's the way you want it
Go watch the movie once again!!!

she smells (nameless and shameless)


a concoction of mixed aromas,
a once in a lifetime scent,
impossible to bottle,
impossible to name,
nameless and shameless

morning coffee, last nights vin rosé,
a come-a-little-closer-tasting for the summer solstice,
the stale of the evening meals of grains and kale,
the sour remains of bedroom sweat,
the displeasing scented sight of
sweat soiled clothes carelessly discarded

the first of the season red spot-stained white peonies
fail to mask the bodies aromatic musks,
which are mostly gender identifiable

my sneakers hail mary, her stockings odorize the atmosphere
most unusually, nylon and lycra are strangely familiar,
prior memorized perhaps, from deep within, a ****** hallelujah,
deep amidst where, the ***** linens are shelved and binned,
before they journey to the Egypt Nile of the basement waters

the burnt crumbs of illegal in-bed brioche toast
amazingly invisible on unclean sheets,
state “breakfast in bed, was yummy in the tummy,
but next time use a big dinner plate,
down here, the burnt of the bread and the burnt
of other things (popcorn pieces)
is just a scratchiest fragrance too far,
needing a sheet wiped clean slate

even the colorless and tasteless water
absorb the ionosphere of smells,
because one does usually speak poetically,
one of us makes a (vice) presidential declaration:

she smells, I man-ually stink, each,
each glower shower nower,
open the window to the spring wet grass aroma fresh cut,
to exhume and then send away
this odor now christened,

nameless and shameless


11:47 28/4/19

I should've guessed
by the nondescript response
teenagers glazed
by 'proper' use of language;
'old-speak' as some would see it
yet to be blessed by a words prowess
fazed by more than 1 syllable
seems inconceivable
and yet text-speak sits,
or rather, should be, languish,
as a hybrid of our languages
prompts me to write this
out of plain literary anguish.

each year on birthdays
write a small poem or limerick
the momentary excitement of opening the card
is lapsed by reason
(it does not contain a £20 note)
the thought bubble denotes
they express some disdain
the speech bubble that follows
the spark in the brain
just another of Uncles gimmicks
lacking the imagination to invoke
something more personal
than a hardback book:
another 200 recipes
for the aspiring young cook

they implied they enjoyed lunchtimes at school
instead wanted an iPad or something
equally expensive and cool

So I try to embrace it
this thing they call urban
write something poetic in text-speak
the very premise of it
is somewhat disturbing
the infinite curve of learning
LOLs from actual LOLS;
the mobile language equivalent
of online voyeurs,
the posters of nonsense,
noobs and trolls

apparently a ROFL
is more-or-less as potent as ****
I scratch my head in wonder
text-speak is used by millions
to converse on a global scale
some how

Q: does SUM exist
(as in 'shut ur mouth' )
is that acceptable?

A: not yet cordially invited on the list
(its an actual word
doesn't count as an acronym)
Im told

the coal face of the lexicon:
indigestible
the steep learning curve:
unpredictable

by your 30s its automatically
re-classified:
Congratulations
You are now officially 'Old'

we are merely wordsmith pedestrians
lost in the tide of text-speak equestrians
jumping and leaping and rolling in SETE and S2R's
are we binned as an S4L, the Spam For Life?
(perhaps I haven't got that abbreviation quite right)

in the context of text-speak
they are suitably troll-like in their essence
forgive me dear teenager
I am but a
SNAG in your presence:

'Sensitive'
(on occasion)
'New
Age' and
'Grown-up'
(given the right persuasion)

the riposte would be SUYF!!
('Shut Up You Fool' - said like MR. T in A-Team)
STM and Spank The Monkey
apologise, SOZ, SRY and Apls
or something equally short,
snappy and funky

at this juncture
before the brain has a puncture
simply BBFN, lest I
BBS or BBIAB or BBIAF
[thankfully this isn't a test]

like WCA
(Who Cares Anyway)
but you'd remark WAI
(and thats I for Idiot)
let out a long distance sigh
wave the imaginary fist
at the youth of yesteryear

all you'd get back was
Wicked Evil Grin
(WEG) for a
Wild *** Guess
(WAG);
a WEG for a WAG
and a PDQ x 2

would be the sum parts of the conversation
between me and you

if language and words and meaning was lost
if acronyms and abbrieviations
in CAPS
was all that there was

*** smeared in ***
with APLS for the PMJI
TXT SPK has got me PML
when MHBFY and
M8s on a MOB crusade
AWOL and dizzy for the next API
MGB for your MF device
throw in some GALGAL logic
where GIGO will simply suffice
Warning: PAW and GJIAGDV
(where the latter is Volcano)
include your GF for some cuddly GBH
and some GHP if she says so

its T2Go
be positive with the T+
and all of that Text-Speak CUZ
I'll T2UL and T for your time,
I'll TAH on the whole TBC

next year i'll just slip in a £20 note
and simply write:
Happy Birthday
with LV
from me

He’d only just raised the dustbin lid
When he saw the woman’s head,
And what had impressed him most was that
It felt as heavy as lead,
It looked on up with its open eyes
With a stare that couldn’t see,
Which made him fumble the lid and cry,
‘It certainly wasn’t me!’

He thought of the woman the head had been
Before they’d parted ways,
An older woman, but shorter now
Than he’d seen in former days,
He was on a nodding acquaintanceship
With the husband known as Jim,
And thought of him as a friendly bloke
But they’d still be hanging him.

He’d been on the ******* round for years
So he knew most everyone,
But never a severed head before
Had been found on the ******* run,
He hadn’t an axe to grind with Jim
It was just Jim’s lousy luck,
A man should allow for one mistake
So he tipped the head in the truck.

Then Jim came out and he waved at him
And he smiled, ‘Good morning, Joe.’
While Joe smiled back, and he gave a grin
And said, ‘How’s the missis, Flo?’
‘She’s gone a little bit flighty, Joe,
Gone off for a spell,’ he said,
‘That tongue of hers, it was getting worse,
I’ll swear she was off her head.’

‘Well, ain’t that just like a woman,’ said
The man with the empty bin,
‘I see you’re light on your *******, are
There other bits to put in?’
‘Plenty of time, I’ll see to it
For the next time you come back,
I haven’t had time to sort it out
But I’ll bring it out in a sack.’

The following week he got two legs
And the feet were fairly strong,
And after he dumped them in the truck
He drove two doors along,
The bin outside held another head
Of a girl he knew as Tweet,
‘It seems to be catching on, ‘ he thought,
As he drove along the street.

He didn’t think to report it
It was no concern to him,
He only collected the ******* that
They placed in a standard bin,
There wasn’t a line in the regulations,
Not one that he’d read,
Of what to do when a bin was due
And it only held a head.

That street was becoming notorious
For the wives that went away,
Off for a spell to Dingley Dell
For a well earned holiday,
And Joe has quite a collection now
That lines his mantelpiece,
While Jane, his beau, says they’ve got to go,
Or she may well call the police.

David Lewis Paget

The five year mission continues, Mr Spock has got the conn
A shuttle craft is in pursuit, cos Captain Pike has gone
The illusion planet Talos Four, the Keeper there awaits
It's there in the captain's log, with other known star dates

Sent on a secret mission, Captain Kirk is on the bridge
Federation space left behind, we're too far from the ridge
Violating enemy territory, now our crew is on its own
The Enterprise Incident three Romulan ships, crossing the Natural Zone

Let That Be Your Last Battlefield, half black against half white
The Gamesters Of Triskelion, three brians gambling on the fight
McCoy had to use the Teacher, knowledge he had to gain
Medical procedures so advanced, to reattach Spock's Brain

We must feed Vaal The Apple, because it's our forbidden fruit
Gem could heal with just a touch, The Empath who was mute
The City On The Edge Of Forever, is where Edith Keeler Died
Did Kirk cause Ben Finney's death, a Court Marital will decide

If its The Way To Eden, then why have we found hell ?
Can we survive The Immunity Syndrome, an entity that's one cell
My thoughts to your thoughts, melding the ties that binned
An ancient Vulcan technique was used, in Dagger Of The Mind

Elaan Of Troyius potent tears, will make you fall in love
An endless fight where no one died, in Day Of The Dove
The ultimate threat The Doomsday Machine, a dangerous planet killer
A Parallel universe bearded Spock, beyond the Mirror, Mirror

Is Kodos the mass murderer, in The Conscience Of The King
A Taste Of Armageddon, is what computer wars will bring
Playing cards with Fizbin rules, for A Piece Of The Action
The Cloud Minders needed filter masks, to gain clean air extraction

The virus in The Naked Time, made the crew go wild
A baby was delivered, and it was Friday's Child
We've seen This Side Of Paradise, Spock's emotional from the spores
Flintlock weapons were introduced, for  Private Little Wars

Who Mourns For Adonis?, When there's no one left to grieve
The White Rabbit was late, when the crew was on Shore leave
For The World Is Hollow, And I Have Touched The Sky
Doctor McCoy was terminal, and thought he was going to die

We've explored the planet surface, red shirts have been deployed
All life has been extinguished, Cestus Three has been destroyed
Get the ship away from here, engage Warp factor two
The Enterprise we cannot lose, or any of her crew

Can Scotty change the laws of physics, when we all boldly go
Seeking out new civilisations, for life that we don't know
It's not life as we know it, but it's worth investigating
Mr Spock may raise an eyebrow, when he finds it Fascinating

Is There In Truth No Beauty?, when the galaxies edge is reached
Can Kollos the Medusan help, now the barrier's been breached
Kelvins have took over, it's By Any Other Name
Hurled from the Andromeda Galaxy, but the barriers the same

Psionic abilities were enhanced, as well as Mitchell's eyes
When we went through the barrier, with the Starship Enterprise
A silver glare is all it takes, to control the ship
The Phaser rifle has been sent, to loosen Mitchell's grip

We're leaving Delta Vega, where is the next star base
The Warp drive is offline, after the barrier in space
Heading back on impulse power, the engine's have been wrecked
We need emergency repairs, cos there's other Stars not Trekked

Three early birds broke the flying record today,
Under a ball of yellow light and sky of white cobwebs,
Uphill, amidst a godforsaken town,
At the far end of the deserted residential area,
In front of our binned and bagged house,
On the peach tiles of our topsy-turvy garage,
Inside a scroungy cardboard box,
Between the wasted space and rotten nest made of broom,
Where they left their bodies mushy and misshapen,
Where a colony of red ants now celebrate for a carrion feast.
They flew higher than any in their kind could ever reach,
That they went straight to heaven,
Early for their embellished feathers and wings,
Early for their final cartilages,
Early for their full-grown beak and claws,
Early for their black, beady eyes,
Early for their last rites,
Yet for us to forecast the bad news,
Yet for us to get off of our plastic chairs of indifference,
Yet for us to drop our glasses of lemon juice and inattention,
Yet for us to fumble outdoor and crash the ceremony,
Yet for us to solve the mystery,
Of whether the ball of yellow light radiated enough to fry,
That the three early birds had to fly the coop to oasis;
Of whether our mother's frenzy gave a cold welcome,
That the three early birds had to say goodbye when she tossed the box out;
Of whether I am to blame for yesterday's miracle
Of finding their home attached to the open bottom of our air-conditioner,
Which turned into a tragedy of a falling baby out of excitement,
That the three early birds felt like it was time to join their fourth sibling once again.
Indeed, too early
For the three siblings endowed with a mother and a father,
For mankind is blessed enough to have such a thing as family,
Who claimed the three early ones before the garbage does,
Who could've been proud parents in the future,
For witnessing the becoming of their three youngs
Who came out too soon,
Who were traceless of eggshells,
Who never knew a father,
Who were ****** enough to even be abandoned by a mother,
Who never knew if she even came back for them,
Who broke the flying record.
Indeed, too early.
After days of packing up sentiments,
Donating valuables,
Throwing away memories,
And leaving behind possessions,
I thought, for a moment,
We could save something
But we couldn't.

Dark green urban tumbleweeds
Roll on up the road
Bouncing off the passing cars
Dispensing their rotting  load
Garbage bags full of waste
Full of the remnants of the week
Don't let one ever hit you though
They all have quite the reek
Urban, plastic, tumbleweeds
Put out early for the trash
They blow in all directions
Not knowing where they'll crash
Blue boxes trail them on their path
Leaving plastics  in their wake
It's only one plastic bin
But, the mess that it can make
Blue and green, like bulbous flies
Full of garbage and the dead
meat, and tins and paper
decayed food stuff and old bread
Urban plastic tumbleweeds
Every week blow in the wind
Scattering their insides on the landscape
Things that should be binned
It doesn't matter where you travel
But I know you're sure to find
Urban plastic tumbleweeds
holding garbage as designed.

I rue the day I lost faith in myself,
let negativity take over sober thought
and say to me my chances are shot,
to be content at a morose trot fowling maps of my life that strangers plot.

Is Life just a spinning gun? , a game of luck.
Revolving on, in endless loops leaving me stuck in the muck.
Waiting for my turn to tug the trigger as the steak gets bigger
and my goals and dreams are self-dammed,
the fires that burn them self-fanned.
My mind imposing dark bans on self-success as I tell myself “I’m a mess”

what would happen if I focused and give my best?
What would happen if before I play i open the magazine and abandon the bullet?
Would I do better if I wasn’t so worried I’d shoot myself?

If before I play i dare to prepare and tell myself I will win because the bullets gone and that negative voice binned.

I Think I could.

Borrowed lives sulk, sprawling over lines
in coffee stains lies their demise
They live in lonely candle-light
are born in the agonies of night
After the streets have lost their sounds
they are the voices of lost crowds.
After a day’s lies, well-meant
they free truth’s pent-up discontent
Confessionals, they welcome
fearlessly each miscreant
And in a Lover’s hand they shine
with chivalry and love sublime
love which lives purely to exist.
Lives even in those who, unrequited
can but dream of it beyond the binned,
torn scraps which litter their sunrises

It was the children I tell you,

"That was my last moment as a free bird,
"Now I sing behind caged walls.

They were there in the moments of my spiral of despair,
I first heard them, saw them when I took the bottle.
Counting them like sheep,
1 sheep,
2 sheep,
.
.
.
.
.
.
32 sheep more.
Then I stopped momentarily.
The world was a mirage of my thoughts as I threw the
empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. Lets spin the bottle
see where it lands, I watch it rotate on empty odours.
Then it lands base up, I stare into the white emptiness
above my head and see nothing. Fluke of the spin I thought
till my eyes descended down.

"Hi Elizabeth such an old name, for such a young soul,

She must have been no older than ten, OK, the tablets
are making me see things I thought in my mind?

"No Elizabeth there right here,

Partly dissolved white stones linger in her palms, why did
she do that? and how did she know that these were buried
within me. I thought for a moment then asked?

"What do you want from me? why would you save me?
"I was ready to leave this place to sleep in oblivion,

"Were not letting you go yet, we have things for you to do,

"Why would I do anything for you child?

Because I'm not a lone,

"Around, around we go, while were here you'll never go,
"A tablet will never fall, a wrist no blood will kiss the floor,
"You'll hear us whether night or day,
"We'll visit you in slumber and seed your dreams what may,

"Why would you do this,

Then the world became a spin cycle and It was the 90 degree
wash, I woke up sweating, my clothes dishevelled.
I was clasping onto a empty whiskey bottle huddled onto
it like it was a favourite teddy from when I was young.

"Jesus that was one weird whiskey educed dream,

Getting up I noticed what was a jingling sound in the base
of the bottle had I put a ring in the bottle again? I looked,
my skin shuddered and my eyes widened as I saw what
must have been at least forty tablets laying in recesses
of the bottle. I turned  my head to the floor throwing up
what whiskey still lingered in my stomach,. What the hell
had I been thinking?

Footprints so many footprints in a circular dance, and two
more just static in the centre, I looked at my feet I still had
mine on I throw them off in haste, or was it fear? I measured
them in size to mine and they fit like gloves a perfect mould.

"No, no that was just a messed up dream,

"It wasn't our Elizabeth,
"Who the hell ar......,

I wake up again my clothes dishevelled but this time
an added bonus blood, what the hell happened I
thought. I checked myself over and to my amazement
none of it was mine which left me to the more panicking
thought who's was it and where had it come from?

******* I feel sick as I assume that this is one
persons hardened essence now secreted on my being.
I shower and then dry off, I run to the toilet as I *****
multiple times, I cant remember ever eating that?
Where had I been? how long had past in missing time.

I just binned the evidence there was a communal burning
bin. I waited till it was dark, I knew one of the  lights was
temperamental at best so i waited till it failed...

"Come on go out,

I thought aloud, then like a fading star it did the usual.
Flickered and like an ebbing star slowly died out . I ran
like it was a race for life, I'd put lighter fluid in the bag
and threw it in.

"I missed,
"I missed, what the hell,

The light flickered on again I was out of the reach of
its view and noticed another come towards the flickering
embers.

"O' crap o' crap,

Thoughts collapsed like dominos in my head, then he picked
the bag up and all I heard was, "Messy ingrate cant even throw,
Then like in slow motion it glided like a wingless crow in to
the fire. Within moments the bag ignited like a phoenix he lit up.

It was like nothing I had seen before he had stood to close to
the fire when he'd throw it soaked in liquid it went up as well
as him the surprise on his face was intoxicating i watched as
he danced the tango of death.

Then I snapped out of it fumbling to get my phone,  but this
moment passed and he was lifeless smouldering on the ground
I could smell him cooking slowly. I ran inside, grabbed my phone
again to ring the police.

But I looked down and it was still recording.

"What I cant remember pressing that,

"We did it Elizabeth,
"So you could watch your work over and over again,

"Your not real, your a child,

"O'dear elzabeth if that's true then you did this all,

I rewound the video, wait there was more than one?
I watched each of them horror spread like an extinguished
Sun as darkness consumed it. But I felt myself smiling,
I looked in the mirror and they were there all of them.

Counting them like sheep,
1 sheep,
2 sheep,
.
.
.
.
.
.
32 sheep more.
I had closed myself in the bathroom, locked them from view, it
wouldn't be long now. I awoke again, sluggish to my surroundings.
I was again in bed my clothes as the night before, holding a *****
bottle empty and Ii looked slowly and there were 31 pills and a note
on the side.

"We left one in so you could have a good sleep,

I threw the empty bottle and clinging note into the fire, i could
hear that song that I first heard. "Nnoooooooooooo, "No,
I ran for the kitchen for a knife, then I heard a knock at the door?
Within moments it was off its hinges and I was running at them
knife raised, I thought death at last, but instead 10,000 volts I felt.

Awakeing i heard voice not the childrens but others,

"Hello,
"Is anybody there,

A hole opened and two eyes so caring looked inward,

"Hi Elizabeth, your in Hardy Oaks mental asylum,
"We saw your tapes, your a poorly girl it seems,

"It was the children I tell you,
"That was my last moment as a free bird,
"Now I sing behind caged walls.

The hole slides shut and then I'm alone, but
they are here with me I could scream, but I just
watch then encircle me, and sing their endless lullabies.

She knew she had it coming, he was due home any minute,
That stupid ****** letter, she knew she should have binned it.
The door flies open, in he storms, angry flaring nostrils,
"So baby, you think you're leaving me for that ******* at the sawmill?".
She backs up, knowing what's in store, he locks them both inside,
She runs away, to no avail, there's nowhere she can hide.
He catches her and spreads her legs and lifts her to the table,
On top of her, he violates, he's obviously unstable.
"Let him take you now *****", spitting words into her mouth,
Then just as quickly as it started, he sighs and pulls it out.
The facade returns, her chores begin, she aches for her sweet lover,
He'll come one day to rescue her, and save her from her father.

hands in cup
circling, circling,
washing away,
yesterdays detritus

humming, mindless, tuneless
far away in another place
thinking, of memories

slip, crash, drop
favourite cup
now
mosaic on hardwood floor

shards, and shards
me, a barefoot island
in a sea of ceramics

every which way
sharp reefs to navigate

but needs must
I am an island alone

none will rescue me
and i cannot sit all day

one cut,
on big toe
one coffee cup
much loved
now, binned
one bandaid
and off to work

serves me right,
should have paid attention
sheesh I loved that cup

Girl you know I'm lost ...Lost in the thrill of it all...
and I was laying with Delilah..when she cut off my hair...
and i was lost inside her...blinded right beside her...
Eve got me to eat her fruit...and I was buried with her...
naked right beside her...bamboozled cuz I need her...
Coaxed by my Queen Esther...Iam Lost...Lost in the thrill of it all...
Girl you know I'm Lost...inside your temple..
Binned by your ribs...Connected at the heel...
Achilles didn't die at will...but was only protect too the heel
Medusa stares inside me...and I freeze up to stone..
My soul is given to her...i am lost inside her
Girl you know I'm lost......Lost, in the thrill of it all..
Robbed by Rebekah...Blessing will never be the same..
Work 14 years to hold Rachel...caught playing silly games
Ill **** just to hold Basheba...but Jezebel is in my bed!!  
Tell me where is Mary.....Mary he isn't dead
I'm just lost...Lost in the thrill of it all...

What's that on the pavement ?
It's another shoe !
Not a pair ... just one of them
Theres always one not two !

What is this strange mystery ?
Is there something weird afoot ?
Maybe i'll investigate ... so explanation i can put !

What reason to throw out one shoe ?
And keep the other one ?
But if they binned them as a pair
Then where's the other gone ?

Maybe there's a one legged man..
That doesn't need a pair
But instead of throwing out one shoe
He could keep it as a spare !

Or better still save money
He could stand outside a shop
Then steal a shoe from off the rack
And run away .... no.. hop !

So if you go out walking
And a single shoe you see
You may wonder ' where's the other one '!
Wonder just like me .

a concoction of mixed aromas,
a once in a lifetime scent,
impossible to bottle,
impossible to name,
nameless and shameless

morning coffee, last nights vin rosé,
a come-on tasting for the summer coming,
the stale of the evening meals of grains and kale,
the sour remains of bedroom sweat,
the displeasing scented sight of
sweat soiled clothes carelessly discarded

the first of the season red stained white peonies
fail to mask the bodies aromatic musks,
which are gender identifiable

my sneakers hail mary, her stockings odorize the atmosphere
most unusually, nylon and lycra are strangely familiar,
prior memorized perhaps, from deep within,
deep amidst where, the ***** linens are shelved and binned,
before they journey to the Egypt of the basement

the burnt crumbs of illegal brioche toast
hidden on unclean sheets,
state “breakfast in bed,
is yummy in the tummy,
but next time use a big dinner plate,
down here, the burnt of the bread and the burnt
of other things is just a fragrance too far

even the colorless and tasteless water
absorb the ionosphere of smells,
because one does usually speak poetically,
make a vice presidential declaration:

she smells, I manually stink, each, glower shower, nower,
open the window to the spring wet grass,
exhume and send away this odor now christened,

nameless and shameless


11:47 28/4/19

if you refuse
youre refuse
and theyll do
what they do

Too much uninvited post.
The time comes for shredding,
yet that's only a start
you soon tune in to all those warts,
dormant VHS videos seldom played
space issues big as brevity,
now binned to the garage
their space filled with the
next expiry
compact discs.
Lessons never learned,
the extended vinyl collection grooves storage is a premium
My flat is like  origami
it folds with the repercussions.

Cats make me laugh, the selfish gits,
They prowl through life, not taking ****,
We humans are just staff, to them,
Our independent feline friends,
Standoffish, surly and downright rude,
Very fussy with their food,
They change their minds just like the wind,
Very often gourmet food is binned,
And then they stalk into 'their' house,
And disembowel some poor mouse,
There is one thing you must never oughta,
Try to wash your cat in soapy water,
The outraged cat will then go wild,
You will then know the devils child,
On the coldest the winter nights,
Cat approaches, purring, right?
Jumps on your lap with kneading paws,
But one false move, you'll feel their claws,
You can never ever own a cat,
They own you, now that's a fact,
Our intelligence they have surpassed,
They've worked out how to lick their ****,
One thing deserves a generous pardon,
They at least crap in neighbours gardens,
I cannot help respect these beings,
I'd never wish to hurt their feelings,
And so I for one will doff my hat,
Towards our Royal highnesses , the cat.

Some things remained close because they were never meant to be open,
not all is starlights, high tides and bright nights in each moment
but it is not to say that they won't appear or have appeared before you
the exit sign is still lit, your smile is cracking but the glue is before you,
I know I have said it many times before, how I urged you to stay strong,
to listen to a song, to meet people and get along but I was wrong...
sometimes staying strong isn't enough to keep you smiling or happy
and something is always lacking, so please listen to me;
you will make it, because bending and not breaking is your style,
and teddy, that smile, will arise before you as the way it has before
so you can choose the exit door or just hold on a little longer.
stand a little stronger, build yourself firmer, because you won't break,
there's a space filled with opportunities, chances, so without haste,
what is your sign? Is it a Leo, Capricorn or cancer? What's the answer?
It doesn't really matter, because signs don't define you, they define route
and the news that you aren't happy with the you, the you that you are,
is like lighting a burning star on fire just to wish of it from afar.
Take your signs, the exit one is still lit but so is the building
because you are not crumbling, not while I am here, friend.

Take a minute off your mind and don't mind the minute details,
they're like emails, trash boxed and binned, forever stuck in junk.
I know it's not about fun, it's heart and soul, tears and sweat
each moment could be a laughter packed with imminent regret
but you better not forget that I am your friend and I have hope
that you know what is the better road to take, the path to make,
the sea escapes my eyes like a wave clasping onto the shores
and before you, I see a strong piece of solid gold amidst the waves
never changing shades, always floating on as the sun overcasts a light,
and it reminds me that maybe that is enough to see in humanity
the flicker of light, a spectre of sight, a tiny bit of 'I'm probably not right-
but I don't really care', and to be fair, that's all is required.
Take the path that you wish to tread because what is walking a thousand miles for someone worth, when you're walking alone?

Charles used to say hello to everybody
even to us children
as he quickly walked to the shops, for the bus or home.
For us children to be counted as equals with adults
to be included
in a kind greeting
was something special.
It felt nice.
Often he'd spy a piece of *******: a cellophane wrapper lodged in a bush, a squashed drinks can next to a tree trunk or a balled up newspaper tumble-weeding across the road.
He'd pick them up, but only on his way home.
We guessed he binned them, but we never knew.
"Hi, hello. Grand morning, grand, grand," the words spoken as rapidly as his feet moved.
"Hi Charles. Yes, it's a fine day." This was the most anybody replied as he swiftly paced home clutching a takeaway bag while a pile of litter was hinged in the crux of his arm by his chest.
A giant of a man
A head taller than the tallest father.
His face was that of an aged cherub: warm, friendly, cleanly shaved and full.  
I am uncertain, but think his jet black hair was styled like a Teddyboy.
Still as children, but a little older,
a little less naive,
a little more curious,
Something kicked in.
A discovery that he was not like the other adults in our lives.
He always smiled.
"Hi, hello. A bit nippy today."
"Hi Charles. Best wrap up."
"Yes, yes," he would add with a nod and smile before carrying on about his way.
Older still and I asked about him.
Not fully comprehending all the words such as "Mental breakdown,"
but he had one a long, long time ago.
"He used to be a scientist in London," I was told, "but he had a mental breakdown."
The phrase carried weight because it was always whispered as if he could hear through the walls and houses two streets away.
Everybody said how terribly sad it was.
But Charles always smiled.
I wondered who it was saddest for.
Despite my ignorance of things I understood that I should feel sorry for him, so I did (a bit).
I really felt sorry for was us children.
It was understood he only ever said hello because he had a "breakdown" and if he didn't he would be like the rest of adults in the neighbourhood.
Knowledge stole this from us.
For Charles who was a kind man once.

HIM: Oh my love hath thou torn from the pleasure of ecstasy, for in your new found faith, thou hast chastised thy own desire. To please whom but a God thy own eyes can not see, shame to lose such an extraordinary beauty.

HER: Faith is more then thy eyes can see, I find satisfaction in a eternity.
thou hast known me in the past, a shallow fall. ******* angel with such guilt, pride turned to dirt; I so love this, from water new birth.

HIM: Your Majesty, for the fools of the garden no longer dance, you found a new king to focus thy pain. Thou hast betrayed the ones who adore and hath given reason to thine pathetic world, you no longer please, is this farewell.

HER: Farewell? yes from a down spiral of torment, for thy demons that hath binned me no longer hold me a slave. With the promise of the cross I surrender thy past life to the dogs. Depart from me now I no longer seek love.

She stood by the window, half obscured by the steam.
She watched him lean against the brick, his shoulders hunched against the bitter wind.
One light shone down and his face was caressed by the beam.
What a beautiful stranger, a succulent muse.
Her gaze turned down to the maze of crumpled papers, all ideas she had binned.
Thousands of ink drops and nothing she could use.
Nothing that told of the battle inside.
Nothing was purging her soul.
She felt his gaze on her then but she didn't feel the need to hide.
She let his eyes linger and she felt he could see all her years and their toll. But under his gaze, for a split second, she felt whole.
Her attention turned to the music that played distantly below.
Her head rolled back and her lids fell heavy.
But her hips moved in time with the beat, and the rhythm began to grow.
It was the first time in a long time she had danced, and her heart lifted its levy.
Her body swayed and her lips parted with the words.
And she felt the draining of the swamp that had settled heavy in her chest.
He watched her dancing in the window and his laughter lifted like birds.
It settled on her ears and brought her mind some rest.
She picked up the pen and began to write, all thanks to the stranger in the night.

you fell involve with the wrong person
Helplessly and hopelessly
you can fall in love with anybody
but that doesn't mean they're the someone
for your body that aches for another soul to
share your dreams with and compare your
Achievements with
when your heart falls apart don't worry
Because theres countless loves out
there waiting for somebody like you
theres a heartbeat ready to sing with yours
ready to hear the i love you tainted in their
ears forever being binned by you
just because you feel involve with
someone who doesn't appreciate you
Doesn't mean the one out there isn't
waiting for you to join their heart
to love them with you whole body
you fell in love with the wrong person
and i get that it upsets you
but my dear one day you'll meet
the person who fulfills you
with all their love and care
that they could ever bring you

Bless me Lord for I have sinned
As I once grew a haircut that I shortly binned
But I knew at the time it was thoroughly wrong
Because these things happen when you grow it that long
A look in the mirror and you think it looks alright
Seriously man, that really isn't right
Laughed at behind closed doors and always behind your back
Yeah, it's true, you do look a complete ****
If haircuts were numbered you'd be looking at a one
As the village idiot would even shave it off
That bundle
That irresponsible
That monstrosity to the back of the human head
The Man Bun

#youknowwhoyouare

JJB

Love with wrong person breaks a man,
His heart pain,
Unbearable;No one can explain.

He wants to forget it,
But he doesn't,
Broken heart has no courage for it.

His blind love binned him in a rattrap,
He knows stuck like rat in rattrap,
But he wants to spend his life in rattrap,
Because,
He truly lovely with wrong person.

I'm sorry to hear of your distress when you decided to go out
When the wind took hold of the door giving your hand a clout
I know that you'll be ******* with this whole situation
And it's not what you expected for a night of stimulation
It really comes to something when your trying to wind down
And you end up getting injured when your going on the town
It's strange the way it works out so **** the hand of fate
Especially when it's not your fault and what you can't anticipate
You would have had a nice time if it wasn't for that wind
I think that you'll agree that this weather should be binned
I don't know what to suggest maybe next time just stay in
Then you can avoid the pain and at least the gails wont win
There are things that go wrong and things that go astray
But it always seems to happen when it's you that has to pay
Why is life so cruel sometimes it's already full of stress
Now because of the wind its your hand you have to dress
Take more care on your next outing make sure your fates not sealed
Or maybe have a drink at home when your hand has healed
I know it is annoying and your thinking that winds a ****
And how upsetting it must be with making your hand blunt
Please keep up your optimism I know sometimes it's not easy
And **** the ****** stupid wind for making you feel queasy
You'll be back in action and soon your hand will begin to bend
And at least you are recovering and your hand is on the mend

No, I'm not addressing those
residing at surfers paradise or
the beach combers who are out
there looking at the wave graves
in the off chance of finding floaters
gold which is no different to what
one expects to discover at the end
of an Irish rainbow, providing you
get there before the Leprechauns.

Road rangers of ******* left to the wind,
CokeCans@McDonnells should have been binned.

Appache are pronto delivered by Tonto
Kemo Sabe's Comanche, but could be Monsanto?

Is it just here in Cork that those boxes are red
Kentucky Fried Chicken to the crows it is fed.

So who are the Tidies around town here in Mallow,
do they go out much further?  Yes, as far as Duhallow !!


For the volunteers. Mallow Tidy Towns.
Polluted by American take away's