3 December 2011

I should have slept four hours ago
after you told me you were staying out

If I had gone to sleep I still would have a packet
but now there is nothing but an empty box

Twenty little plasters turned to smoke and ash
but they did their job until there was an empty box

I felt the nicotine racing through my veins
but it didn’t comfort an addled empty box

A shroud of twenty clouds taunt in wispy dance
obscuring and choking in a walled empty box

In an instant there was red but then it drained away
and there was nothing left flowing in a naked empty box

4am and you’re home now with ‘company for a little…
The staking of the final nail for a six foot empty box


Powdered Wig…

17 August 2011

Why don’t you get a powdered wig
Then put it on your head
And bloviate till kingdom come
My patience is dry bled

For what is wrong in what I say
In all I think or do
What makes you feel you’re always right
Concerning me and you

I hate the double standard
It simply is unfair
You always get your own way
We’re not an equal pair

I’ll add this to the docket
Your long list to begrudge
I hate when you climb your horse
Sit high and then misjudge

“Unappreciative bitch” that’s all I didn’t say
I hate that I love you so much though you treat me this way
Instead of a kind word to speak all you can do is moan
After all this time you know I should have fucking grown

Sometimes I wished that I would die, just so that you might see
The kind of life that you would have, without support from me
But saddest thing I feel right now that drives me to despair
You wouldn’t really notice, for you don’t really care

The Prize…

9 August 2011

I find it hard to take,
Your sexual thirst you slake,
With every guy but me!

Oh Fuck!
Give me “Le Prix”!

You are oblivious.
You’re too lascivious.
Make me an invitee.

Oh Fuck!
I want “Le Priiix”!

I jest! For we are friends.
The joke though, never ends!
It’s fubar foolery

Oh Fuck!
I need “Le Priiiiiix”!

Although it’s such a drag,
I know we’ll never shag.
There will be no whoopee.

Fuck it!

Fuck you!

Le Priiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiix!

Grrrrr…. 😉

Your Place…

8 August 2011

As favours for friends go, there’s reward in it
That while you’re abroad, I come and house sit
Your home is so comely, exactly like you
It’s great to see some things from your place of view
Wanting to be with you, though you’re not home
Lying in your bed, and feeling alone
Except for your cat who’s a love and a bother
Thinking of you in the arms of another
Shaking the feeling for I must know better
Stop wishing we could make a home together


3 August 2011

Am I deceived, in truths or dreams
Is what I see more than it seems
Or maybe what I see is less
And I am easily impressed

But by external beauty taken
Aroused perhaps with my eyes shaken
Your physicality alluring
My vision sensibly assuring

But I debate what I am seeing
Am I a superficial being
Or am I drawn by what’s inside
Your beauty just over applied

Yes I see more than a good look
More than what often is mistook
In truth you’re sexy and appealing
That hardly constitutes my feeling

I sometimes think you’re not that pretty
But I know I am being petty
For your beauty is not just worn
It’s also internally borne


Are You?

5 June 2011

Standing in my fridge so bright and gleaming
Offering me comfort as I’m screaming
So do I take your invite in the end?
Oh Vodka Bottle are you my only friend?


3 June 2011

It’s often hard to see the wood for trees
Don’t know if I will ever know with any ease.
Confusion, conflicts, is it pain or not?
Why do I not appreciate the things that I have got?
Why must I think of more?
I’m what I would deplore
Externally content and inside numb
Portraying happiness though feeling glum
But is it actually to do with you?
Or is it me, unsatisfied with what I do?
I guess both is true
But what should I do?
Impatience though I thought was not in me
Has gripped me tight and points me somewhat desp’rately
I want to be where I think in a year
I’ll be a better man, where happiness adheres
So will I get where
Should you be there?

Happy Poet’s Block

20 March 2011

I find it strange that when it comes to write of happiness
I lack the words, the intellect to create and express

I’m happy and I’d like to say how good it makes me feel
But I find I’m uninspired. I cannot make words real

I cannot form the sentences, build cadence or make rhyme
No matter my environment, no matter how much time

Of love and longing I can write, as well of times so sad
But happy poems I can’t pen. Just why am I so bad?

Unable to translate emotions into words
This writer only generates such brown poetic turds

It’s poignant and indicative, my happy poems suck
My life so far, had little joy, and so I find I’m stuck

But all in all I want to say how happy I am now
It’s down to you, my one true friend, step front and take a bow

Again my life is changing, refreshing for the new
I want to say I’m happy now. I owe it most to you.