i believe in a thing called love,

in toxic oxytocin tears and

jagged daggers of emotions

that hit hard and quick and deep

leaving lovers dazed and aroused

on kitchen tiles and sticky dance floors.

i do believe in love, i do,

in blood filled love potions

you put so much of yourself into it

that she just has to love you

she has to, she must,

and she does, she does,

ugly crying but ****,

for you, all for you,

please just hold on

she pleads -

mucus filled tears cascading down her face,

*******,

thighs,

pooling on the floor,

making the doctors both cringe with disgust and

simultaneously lean forward with interest

swaying in non-existent breeze -

and you die with your first kiss in your fist

and a piebald smile that splinters her inside forever

but i guess that isn't your fault, right?

i do believe in love, i do, i do,

in unfettered devotions

in ****-that-guy,

the quality relationship improvement show,

because you want to be a lover

but the guy ain't right

so just make him up

and use a real guy as his outside

you love him sanded, smoothed, buffed, painted

with rims and an inexplicable 48 inch lcd screen

you'll officially get hitched but don't cry

divorce is common and either way it doesn't matter

just look pretty and make sure to squint.

i do believe love, i do

i believe in

poisoning yourself for Juliet

rather than taking her pulse

to taking dear John's heart and

jumping on it happily

because you love him sooooo much

but like, the world has conspired against you,

not with guns and bombs and videotape

but with, like, freely made decisions,

peer pressure and jagermeister  

his blood makes pretty patterns on your

milk white thighs and i guess that

he sticks around for the show

oh boy, i believe in love, i do, that

6 and 9 aren't meant to be together

they just fit, that

there's no place for 'pure' in love cos it's all

pain and *** and spit

as for 'star crossed lovers'

the stars are always crossed

else eclipses would be boring and

each lost lover on a course

i do believe in love, i do,

in the sweetheart who lispes

licking earlobes and bottom lip biting

of metal snakes, happy fates

and piscean traits,

exuding high fructose glucose syrup

instead of saliva

so kiss them carefully or you'll

sugar high and sugar low

and sugar crash and burn

with every cosmic turn and

oh, i believe in love, lovers, oh i do, i do,

in the swirls of black and white that

play ying and yang

that kiss and grate and fornicate

forming a pasty grey

declaring that their grey is the

greyest, greatest, gayest grey

i do believe in love, i do,

bridezilla has destroyed new york in the

quest for the perfect dress as

otherwise her,

sorry,

their,

day will be ruined

milan and paris are shaking in their loius vuittons

praying they will be passed over

oh anna wintour,

just one more working day

please let the cake be next on it's list,

deliver us, oh lagerfeld, from

polyester blend shrouds in hideous off white,

amen.

but yeah,

i do believe in love, i do,

in philosophers that never tire

who'll be debating whether

kpattz, robsten, or my name for it,

sorry, them,

pattenwart,

really love each other

or are merely feeding off the media **** storm

to soothe their fragile bodies

and appease their shiny deities.

so yeah, i know what it involves

every ingredient labelled and shelved

sampled and sicked up and

given 5 star reviews on amazon

with words of advice

and i do believe in love.

i do.

oh, i do

so friends,

hold out your bleeding hearts

apply some anti-skeptic

your wounds will heal in 30 days

give or take a century.

My heart falls out of my chest with a splatter
SPLURT gush mush
Crushed berry blood
Now pooling at your feet.

Now I have sicked up my heart
It is nothing to do with me
And you must clean it up.

Transplant what has burst into your own chest,
Cavity spattered, a gory work of art.
This is yours, this ******, awful mess.

Stay at camp and remember
what won’t be forgotten,
unless the picture you got printed
disappears and returns to embers.
3 months away is 3 months too long,
especially when every day, every day, every day
is reminisced, sicked up in the conversation ashtray.
Stub out the cig and smoke what is real,
as then the hits you score will reveal the hidden,
the truth and the tiny minute, microscopic detail.

[Swearing Alert]


- INTRO; Angel Of Grotesque -


They say they need my help.

Can you believe it, MY help?!

It seems the crimson **** tide has finally turned - now here they are, tails between their sorry legs beg-beg-begging me for help.

Here I am, chained to a steel bed post and clothed in nothing but orange dungarees and socks - I stink of stale sweat, the odour mixing with the backed-up toilet reeking in the corner of the cell. I haven't seen daylight in over 4 years (I think) and I burn away the hours sharpening my nails and quietly ******* -

(often the latter first, don't want a paper cut down there(!))

I'm a man of no mercy. I have no 'better' nature or gratuitous soul - my ego is wholly puerile, at times pugnacious and others vile. I'm a self-centred beauty, a dancing Angel of grotesque. Grinning behind this mask of smiles, in leather and chains I love to dress.

I've long forgotten my name, there's no use for it when you've been stuck alone in a metal box for half your life - the only connection with the outside world is the crude letter box the guards shove food and drink through. Well, I say food but it's debatable whether the floury **** they give me is edible. Then again anything's edible when you're starving - toilet paper, clothing, even your hair and nails.

How did I get here, I hear you ask. Well basically once-upon-a-time in the ****** underbelly of Manchester there was this blindingly vivacious dealer who got in a teensy bit of hot water - resulting in some ******-off yobs dismembering his wife and kids for ***** and giggles. Said handsome dealer (yeah you guessed it, me) was then framed for the ****** of his whole family and locked away in some mental institution for just shy of 35 years.

It's safe to say I went stir-crazy - my brain sicked up all logical sanity and shat it out along with any humanity left in my heart.

What should a man fear when he has nothing left to lose?

I didn't **** my family, but I did the two officers when they took me to the station for questioning. I got tired of the twenty questions game they were playing so I snapped the lock on the inside of the door, slit the first copper's throat with the hook of my handcuffs (had to dislocate one of my wrists to get it free) and choked the other ponce with his own tie.

It took ages for their colleagues to get in, I guess it goes to show that reinforced doors do work.

Shortly after I was carted off to court, restrained in a straight jacket and chains (oh I did love that **** look) where the judge declared me insane and sent me to Greyhound Infirmary For The Mentally Insane.

And the rest is pretty much history from there on - I've slaughtered 4 nurses (one was an accident, I promise!) and a couple of patients, although I don't hear the Infirmary complaining about that.

I can't stand people anymore, when I look into a living face - be it man, woman or child - I see the killers that took away the only people I've ever loved, took away anything I've ever had and locked me away in a world of emptiness and dark.

All I want to do is carve the pain that gnaws at my stomach into their disgusting skin, make them feel how it is to be the freak that's laughed at, locked away, all alone.

That's why I've been incarcerated in this little metal box, left to rot away.

Forgotten.

Until today, when the seemingly dead cell door finally clicks open and I peer up at the first human face I have seen in over 20 years.

And ****, was it an ugly one!

velar from my newport
return to the usual sicked filled court
tired everyday imagine my discomfort
staring at blind lady with no child support
tempered old man
wearing the 3 button sport coat
he old fashion but what he lack tho
is the manners of a young man
working everyday just to afford him
those old ****** got no manners
and the ones who got nothing
see it all

I have walked through this road.
Yes, it was very broad.
I walked with my sugarcane.
I both angry sun and cat-rat rain.
That same road without any pain.

On the road she hugged and kissed.
She protected me from hissed.
I steadily received no unhappiness.
Arm to arm to people's hardness.
That same road was filled with likeness.

But on a certain day,I earned love sicked.
The wearing and weeping on this road I picked.
My companion announced our separation,
not of wish but to friend's appreciation.
That same road I wept for our relation.

a happy child
tangled in sand and strings of seaweed
cling to his velcro shorts
wet with the sea
the only love hes ever known
that kisses him every time he leaves and comes home
whispers from the trees and salty breeze
fill his mind leaving it at ease
for the hot months when the world is green
his imaginary friends laugh and pretend
sun soaks his skin and worries run thin
but there are voices shadowed in these happy notes
he cant quite make them out but they poke
holes in his shield of sunshine and gold
and soon the cool breeze infiltrates his armor
one by one leaves fall
colors lack in ardor
as does his smile
and those shadowed voices
grow stronger in the frosty chill
darkness like tendrils wraps and winds
around his mind
from the inside
out
the golden skin of a sun kissed romance
is chased away
leaving him white as if
he'd just seen a ghost
and the snow coasts
its way over
because everyone knows that
misery loves company
and each tear he sheds
is its own salty sea
streaming from eyes that no longer see
what the soul longs for
as they roll of his chin they hit the floor
and get sicked up
by the dry cold earth

Art
Simple art
Abstract art
Personal art

Expressed in different ways
Some write songs
For the feelings that sing along
Some dances with the beat
And tries to pull the crowds with it

Music it is
Music's your only friend when you feel alone in a crowd
In a party, in won't be fun without
But sometimes the person whom we think we can trust
Can be a traitor and start acting so unjust

Music can be two-faced
Hurt you in the time of sicked-age
Pain will blow up inside you
It won't stop until you decided to think it through

Drawing, painting, building
A bird, a sea, a tree
Anything that kicks from the inside
Would want to be expressed in an artist's mind
You've no choice but to let it go
Cause sometimes, it is the only choice you know

Writing is the simplest and the thorough
It completes all the art show
Can't be understand by the narrow-minded
Can be the escape of the one who's interested

Takes time but worth it
Especially if the message conveyed is at its peak

Atramentous bedroom
Sicked by splotch of white
Mother drunked by sattire
Father high as Franklin's kite

Dancing the cumulus
Breaking the heat
Dogs seem harmonious
Ghetto streets

Countryside terrace
Latin in sight
Scraping of green skin
Razorblade makes easy right

Shavings to fill the wooden panels
Loose hairs to come off head
Kittens to amuse thou
A forceful taking end!!

Distant dolly
Dancing alone
Till she's falling
And she is gone
When she's spotted
The Game begins
Hear that calling
Don't let her in
Why's she crying
Do not be tricked
She is trying
To get you sicked
On by polly
Her teddy bear
He that pulls out all of your hair

I'm your knight in shining armour
I'm your bane, your adipose
I'm the reason you're not happy
I'm your ****, your tuberose.

You're my shock, my half cooked omelette
You're my biscuit never picked
You're my very painful fracture
You're the fur ball cats have sicked.

He's the one you should be courting
He's the one that hides distaste
He's the martyr, self inflicted
He's the life that's gone to waste.

She's the one that smiles at no-one
She's the girl that lives alone
She's the happy, carefree songbird
She's the chocolate scoffing crone.

Count your blessings maid of plenty
Lucky that you've never cared
Comatose to squires, to gentry
That beating lump you've never shared.

The thick in my throat sicked by ash and Mary, teardrops and slurry
Burnt fickle flutters to another bash for my little dreary head to bury
Want hinder my teared touch to sunder our broke torch searing my heart
Blink twice for the top of your nave may fly away to take trickle part
I wasn't to know before you could bow out your prickled ideas and flight
But the bright crown that aloud my head to bow under bunting weight; it was
Cleft in two, my head lift and adrift my eyes could see you under the bright
My gaze reassessed and my mind a blister, writhing admission, I felt over and through
but still I couldn't resist her

the depth unfathomed deeper than death
swallowed my fragile heart
puked me out its putrid stomach
licked me up like a dog eats its sicked up meal
again and again for centuries
dripping saliva slobbering all over dreams
I was dissolved in deaths final say
and this is where we will finally be united
a silent scream into the depths of hell.
the experience of the dark night of the soul.

Born in hate
Plagued by it if you had darken skin
It was the shackles around there feet
When they were forced to walk down dirt roads
It was the word at the end of whips
As is carved through the skin
Laughed as blood dripped
Mixing with the mud
And splashing on the leaves
When they misbehaved
It was the noose tying word as they hung from trees
Made to keep them from being free
An to keep them stained with fear
Made to punish
As they were sprayed
Whispered in the ear of canines
As they were sicked on them
Created to ******* as they were beaten
Back then the word was made to abuse
Theses days it's stamped as just a word
But it's more then that

When You feel LOVE, it is something wonderful, Esoteric, Lucious and marvelous.
But when you FALL IN-LOVE, you Fade away, you doubt something and make an excuse.

I'll tell you, that this Feeling, is an emotion or rather an Empathy towards a persons deepest desire,
An unwanted goal to acquire.

Don't be afraid of FALLING, But instead be courageous in LOVING,
for LOVE has no limits, or gimmicks, with tricks or to be sicked with

Love does not just sit back, it walks everywhere with everyone to aspire.
Love, you do not simply require.

THE CAT'S COMMUNION  

oh my head
splits open..spills
my memories on the floor

all these
little Donalls
running here and there

curiously
mostly me
at age 7

making my Holy Communion
and just taking
the Host upon my tongue

when Charles
our champion mouser
pounces upon my little self

at this very
holy moment
"Holy Mother of God!"

now our cat
who is normally
a nice chap

swallows me
down in one
big gulp

I wonder if this
constitutes a cat's
Holy Communion

but I am sicked up
slimy as slimy can be
a slicked fur ball

after that
all the many memories
I am

manage to somehow
pull themselves together
make it back into my head

well I wasn't
going to do that again
in a hurry

the cat eyes me
nervously now
looking very very holy

as if a Voice from
up above declaims
"This is my beloved

cat in whom I am
well pleased
...feed ye him!"