It's torture,
The way that he stalks her,
Mina, Mina,
Like some childish chant,
He calls her name,
We chant too,
Master, master, notice us,
Love us, want us, worship us,
Because we worship you,
And I have seen seasons pass in an unblinking eye,
How can I sleep when you are always awake?
Entertaining guests in the parlour room,
My pallor turns deathly when you speak her name,
Your next engagement is the chill in my tomb,
The fear I feel in her heartbeats makes my teeth hurt,
They turn into fangs with the bitterness I spit,
When you take her throat, I see red,
But I cannot admit these things to my absent soul,
By you I am vilified,
Like Christ I'd rather be crucified,
My wedding dress you nullified,
Let light stream in and burn me alive,
Burn me dead,
After aeons since the first I thought this bond was unbreakable,
1, 2, 3, women you have guided into your hell,
Still your thirst is unslakeable,
- But what did I expect?
Denn die Todten reiten schnell.

(Translation: Because the dead travel fast.)

A baseline that you feel in your chest,
Humming thick in your ears,
And your mouth,
You just want to live in their blur of impactful words,
That you don’t understand,
Because it’s just a baseline to you,
But have you ever felt so proud of someone?
That what they’re saying, or what they’re playing or who they’re being,
Becomes the only thing that’s keeping off the rain,
And you can see every tooth in the room,
Every heart that becomes unbroken and
        every heart that breaks,
Well it’s a shooting star,
Baby it’s gold dust,
Because his gaze is tattooed on your body,
Under your sweater,
Under your skirt,
Yours is a crime scene littered with his fingerprints,
But you’re no ****** victim,
Jackie,
       Jane,
             Joan,
Wife,
     Mother,
             Daughter,
Survivor,
          Protector,
                     Warrior,
Woman,
Know when it’s dark,
And subtle shadows are all that remains of your bodies,
Finding all the bones in your shoulder,
The piano strings that move your fingers,
And each indentation of your spine,
Is a bible,
But God won’t give him strength,
It’s your skeleton that is fortitude,
You’re the dragon protecting the castle,
You’re Rosie the Riveter,
You can hold up the world with perfectly manicured hands,
You will listen,
And you will care,
Let him breathe in the fractions of your soul that you exhale,
That way,
Every standing ovation and
     every wound that heals,
Is saturated with the influence of you,
Though you don’t understand,
That baseline you can feel in your chest,
It is your to be proud of too.

I spent Christmas in a foxhole,
Listening to Stille Nacht across the way,
The tree line sang,
And it was dark, deep and snowing,
But the white ground reflected just fine against the moon,
Now I can't eat cherry snow cones,
Because of the way the tracks dragged along and then stopped,
You could still make out a body if you tried,
Well we were taught never to leave a good man behind,
But sometimes there wasn't much man left,
And sometimes there was just too much man to take,
In a land where over twenty-five was old,
Me, Don and George we were just kids,
And my Ma kept trying to send me birthday cake for finally becoming a man,
She kept asking "Was I keeping warm?"
Was I keeping warm?

Angry didn't begin to cover the way no one mentioned him again,
After he fell,
I was keeper of dog tags, locked in my fist,
Fear like a sneeze,
Always at the back of my throat but I didn't let it go,
So I cried alone,
And we tried to get by together,
And I wish I could say he was always with us,
The forgotten shadow in the foxhole,
But the truth is he was taken with little resistance,
And I never saw him again,
Third grade captain of the baseball team,
Kissed a girl before I did,
I was afraid to wash the filthy clothes he left behind,
For fear of wiping him from existence,
They let me keep a shirt without bloodstains,
And it felt like home for months,
Until the smell of my friend began to fade.

I had to stand up,
To be the best man I could be,
Because German was in my tongue and so far away for everyone else,
I saw the dead walking towards me in striped pyjamas,
Shook my head and said: "I don't wanna",
Well my boys picked me up and said: "Joey, you just gotta",
So I saw the worst of what humans can do,
Looked apathetic, like a soldier,
Didn't cry,
But when he told me: "I am a Jew",
I answered: "So am I",
And the star of David he wore on his arm,
Mine was tattooed on my heart,
Once we'd calmed them down,
Denied them my box of rations,
I fell to my knees and sobbed,
Humans punishing humans punishing humans,
And no amount of screaming would stop the film behind my eyes,
They told me I did well today,
"Joe, you did good for your people."

It's been a tough war,
It's been a long war,
And my girl back home,
I married her straight away,
Even though she wasn't a Jew,
But I could have lived and died in her beautiful blonde hair,
So my Ma loved her anyway,
I wanted several daughters,
And I wanted several sons,
So they could have brothers like I did,
My girl called me a hero,
But I ain't no hero,
I ain't no saint,
I ain't no warrior,
I ain't no order,
I ain't no weapon,
No blood,
No war,
I am the cry for a medic in the dead of night,
I am the line of defence that would not move,
I am no surrender,
I am a survivor,
I am surviving still,
I am a husband,
A father,
A friend,
But most of all,

I am a Brother.

There’s a burning in her eyes,
High reaching lace like a poison choker,
Hands around a swan’s throat,
She’s the type who would ****** the world,
Then break its neck,
But even then, she still spits poetry every time she speaks,
Everyone has their curses,
She hides hers in the darkness.

Last Again asks,
But the guy shakes his head and ties her to the mast,
Of disappointment, of tears, as the waves crash past,
He’s edged her again, with his skin of alabaster,
And it’s only after this ******* has won she realises she's the disaster,
And all her hopes and dreams, well they were made of plaster,
Because they were meant to hold her up but she can break
hem if she has to,
And she has to alright because this bloke doesn’t have a
light,
So how’s she meant smoke and make herself feel alright?
How’s she meant to have hope when it feels like the night,
Is encroaching, approaching and she can’t put up a fight?
She searches her pockets and the lining of her coat,
Hoping her findings will enable her smoke,
Hoping finding the lighter will make the night a bit lighter,
But in her mum’s eyes she’s always been a fighter,
So she fights into her bag, against the sticking of that zipper,
Hoping her fingers they grab a zippo or a clipper,
She’s been sticking to her guns but never pulling the trigger,
Then she finds metal’s colder than the wind,
It bites as she brushes, the feeling it lingers,
And it’s never been so appealing for her to smell gas on her fingers,
Like a phoenix from the ash, the butane ignites,
Because we find in times of darkness, we must make our own light.

Creative Writing


Manchester uni,
Fifteen places, but that's it,
****, ****, ****, ****, ****.



The Fridge

I open the door,
But nothing has changed, no food,
My tears flow freely.




Fluffy

Fluffy the hamster,
In sawdust he hides plans for,
World *******.




Which is it

Some call my writing,
Insightful, to others it's,
Sociopathic.




2500 BC

I find peace in rain,
Ra, the Egyptian sun God,
Smites my insolence.




Look like Crab, Talk like People, Crab People, Crab People.

In the near future,
The crab people will rise up,
Crustacean war-fare.




Lunacy

Awake in my bed,
Pulled to open the window,
The moon calls for me




Lioness

Brave as a lion,
She does not show fear as she,
Devours her young.




97% Sure

Bodies in bin bags,
Powdered lime on window ledge,
Suspicious neighbour