Sunday, 30 November 2008

batman haiku

From behind this mask,
I rage at the world through pain,
for I am Bruce Wayne.

bus stop

Fed up of waiting.
Cold bus stop

Barfly Girl

My ears are struggling to hear
your thoughts from your lips,
those, that you believe so dear
this shoddy live band drowns
deafening your angelic sound.
All I can hear is your smile
eyebrows moves contortly
into relaxed frowns
and just nod contently.

through the smoke machines haze
usually I'd be checking out your rack
I cant draw my gaze
from your smile.
Gives so much life, like the river Nile.
Something I always lack.

I dont have a bebo or facebook
far too fiddely is all that,
I would just for another look.
Will put words I want to hear
into your perfect mouth
as this cover song ends,
I catch a word from you
the crowd cheer
no strong regional accent.

through the smoke machines haze
usually I'd be checking out your rack
I cant draw my gaze
from your smile.
Gives so much life, like the river Nile.
Something I always lack.

I hope for the right words
out of your delicate mouth
your smile framed by dimples
looking back your eyelids flutter,
twinkling, whites of youe eyes
doing that cute girl stance
and I'm glad you so cant
hear my stutter
through the bands noise.

Saturday, 29 November 2008

something geeky

I've been trying to work on something geeky and epic for ages and all I can come up with so far is this. -

I would be your Fry to your Leela.
Even get off the wwweb to meet her,
You're WonderWoman, Spiderman is me,
Just a perfect match of Marvel and DC.
I just want to say to your face....
Suck on my plus ten mace.

reason 153# on why i couldn't be a archaeologist

'Out of this trench we have just found the remains of bronze age slag'

'pfffffftttt, hahahahahaaha, ....slag'. Sniggers me in the background.

trip to the north pole

Friday, 28 November 2008

superman haiku

Female kyrptonite.
For you, I, Superman will
continue to fight.

chunky woman haiku

I am hypnotised,
by those thunderous big thighs.
My chunky lover.

Thursday, 27 November 2008

my fantasy women

Look down at those lips of yours
covered in my saliva.
Slobbery kisses, Strobe lighting.
Consequences of when we drink
three bottles for a fiver.

In my palm, a small emo girls,
gentle fingertip touch.
Your straight dyed black hair.
Those beautiful eyes framed in
thick eyeliner, used too much.

Fantasy women are Emos.
Those thick frames glasses.
Studded belts, slung over your pert asses.
the poor mans gothic girl.
But what stood out,
was your pout.

Stumbled our way out of the exit
a bright nailedvarnished hand.
The fizzy street orange glow.
Leading back to yours for dirty sex,
I lied and said I was in a band.

You and friends youthful slang
I have no idea what it means.
Cant start a conversation so.
I laugh awkwardly in places
as we queue for chips and beans.

Fantasy women are Emos.
Those thick frames glasses.
Studded belts, slung over your pert asses.
the poor mans gothic girl.
But what stood out,
was your pout.

toaster haiku

Toaster fails again,
pops up milky white. Should be
dark brown in colour.

posh fastfood

Wednesday, 26 November 2008

all I am to you

I am not what you want to see,
what you hope, believe in me to be.
All I am is my mothers misery.

I warned you to stay well back,
please dont come closer I'll attack.
All I am is my minds sad & black.

I am kept secure, safe in this cage,
where I can perform on my own stage.
All I am is my fathers deep rage.

I live in my self imposed isolation
dead inside, full of wanting frustration,
All I am is lonely oneman nation.

I punish myself for reasons forgotten,
the inside my core dank, completely rotten.
All I am is weak like delicate cotton.

I fall down into the dark musty floor,
hands bloodied from beating at the cell door.
All I am is a dying lions last roar.

I slump to the ground about to drown,
my face is scarred from my angry frown.
All I am to you is a unfunny clown.

I feel my life fading, final breath,
my long awaited friend arrives, thats death.
All I am to you is a pathetic mess.
(say mess with a lisp, otherwise it doesnt work)

another super quick drawing

its a bit old, a few months, I sniped him over the sofa while he was working

Tuesday, 25 November 2008

crying over spilt milk

Broken milk bottle,
sees the mess. Mother beats me.
Tears run down my face.

one min drawing of miss_strawberry

I recorded myself on my cameraphone to time myself, I dunno why I didnt just use my watch.
Plus a few seconds just to ink it in with a marker pen.


Feet now, toasty warm.
Slippers made from the remains
of Sooty and Sweep

Monday, 24 November 2008

kicking myself again

Still even now, running them through my head
all those simple moments when I could of said.
I still see that smile of yours in every woman
see, I was and probably still am its biggest fan
Slouched on the sofa, looking in my direction.
Said what I want to hear, waiting for a reaction,
your long legs, poking out the bottom of the bed
tall enough so there was not much tilt of my head
to look at you. Features so stunning and a delight,
I promised I would defend your honour in a fight.
An honest chap to those all around but not for me,
keeping myself blind, refusing, not wanting to see.
I miss your cooking my belly continues to mourn,
you were my morning chours each and every dawn.
Reach out my hand to touch you, pull it away again
like that old worn joke and run it through my mane.

That worn out joke, thats me.

30 second drawing of sianz

another winter haiku

Crunching under foot,
like a empty crisp packet.
Grass in morning frost

drunk in town again

As usual, I strike up the conversation with a woman: 'So what do you do then?'
'I'm a drama teacher.'
'Really', I reply, 'A failed actor then?'
Mind you she did go to the same uni as me.

Sunday, 23 November 2008

Tranny Porn

This also is inspired like 'crusty sue' from a b3ta QOTW.

I'm in my gibbering, sweaty, horny mode,
Waiting for porn so I can sploof my load.

In front of me, female perfection on show,
as she grinds teasingly in hi-def slow-mo,
with her pouting those fully glossed lips,
wriggling senusally and shaking her hips.
The internet my vast porn wonderland,
Oh thank you, quick speed broadband!
Full of the filthiest video grot ever seen,
no longer will my mind be pure or clean.

I'm in my gibbering, sweaty, horny mode,
Waiting for porn so I can sploof my load.

Rub myself again harder, it wont be long,
a fantasy girl, such a slut and so strong.
Running her hands over her pert body,
Most (all) my ex's were pretty shoddy.
Smug with myself that I found this link
on the screen she gives a sly cheeky wink,
pulls down her underwear, over her bum,
I close my eyes and judder, I'm about to ......

I'm in my gibbering, sweaty, horny mode,
Waiting for porn so I can sploof my load.

Open my eyes, leg still twitching. In shock,
in front of me she has a great big cock!
Panties dangling, like a portrait off a nail.
Eww! Ladyboy, tranny, a lady shemale!
She tricked & cheated me! Rude and wrong.
A minute before she was a lady in a thong,
My mind confused, aroused? Dismay
What now? Does it mean I am gay?

I'm in my guilty, sweaty and disappointed phase,
deleting this porn, so I wont watch it for a few days.

Gerkin Haiku

Gerkin jar empty.
Belly full, for all to see,
loud smelly hiccups.

empty waiting room

Saturday, 22 November 2008

another winter haiku

Feet cold without you.
Nothing to rub them against
in this lonely bed.

Thursday, 20 November 2008

Fat People

I've seen people sooooooo fat, that they have these fat massive chins, so to nod they have to tilt there head back rather than forward.


I hate the phrase babe, who ever calls their boyfriend or girlfriend babe, I hate you. Why you ask? I'll tell you why, everytime your out in town and someone says, ‘You here babe?’ Every single person looks around thinking its them being called. Its just like that standard text message sound, everybody used to check their phone.
Why Babe? You're just referring your partner like you’ve referred to every past partner you’ve ever had, this person should be special to you and yet you call them what? The same phrase that you used before with your last partner, now these two partners are totally different if not why are you with someone else? did they leave you as they got fed up of being called Babe?
Use something that means something, everyone one of my friends has a shit nickname, I mean really shit, its just something between us two, more personal and much better than wailing babe.


I got a book out from the library to help me with my hugging issues, it was called, "How to Hug." It turns out it was just volume seven of the encyclopaedias.

Wednesday, 19 November 2008


I wear contact lenses now but I used to wear glasses, the most annoying thing about glasses is when you can't find them, you walk around the house looking for them and your housemate says. ‘What are searching for?’
'My glasses', I reply.
‘You tried looking for them?’
Now how can I look for something when I’m blind, then they go on to say.
'What do they look like?'
'GLASSES for fucks sake!"

Posting a Letter

I had to post a letter the other day and I spent a good ten minutes licking this envelope to seal it, it cut my tongue up a treat just trying to get it to stick. It wouldn’t, driving me insane I threw the letter down and I look back down at the letter, it turns out it was one of those self sealing envelopes and I hadn’t seen the sticky strip to remove.

Tuesday, 18 November 2008

Scally Mother

'Wat uoo lookin' at bruvva?
Yeh, so wot I'm a teen muvva.
Check me out wiv all me bling'.
Fingers chock full of sovereign.
'Eee aint fat, he walks everywhere.'
Vodka piled high in his pushchair.
Grubby vest rides up over her tummy,
how many times has she been a mummy?
No hope, no future, start to sterilise,
curb this problem. It's always on the rise.

winter haiku

Rabbit running home.
Back down into its burrow
far too cold outside.

Saturday, 15 November 2008

The Captain

My friend, the captain of his ship
pround and mighty, not like this tip
the sails on his ship full of patience,
flags flying high on a ship of vigilance.
Sails into these storms, never hesistates
to stop me, drowning in my weak states.
He stands firm, solid, not queasy on deck,
ready to guide to calmer waters, this wreck.
Someone I want to be like, a respected captain
tall, imposing and fearless like a mountain.
Rather than this drunk surly, salty seadog,
still lost deep in the dark thick bitter fog.
By his side his faithful woman, his firstmate
she too patiencly keeps me shipshape.
Wont be long til I'm made to walk the plank,
into the sea deep, dark, damp, cold and dank.
At least they've given me time to learn to swim
even if my life. future is bleak and ever so dim.
there is ever only so much I can be reassured.
Scared, I feel as if I should jump over board.
To allow them to sail untroubled into the sunset
this man my friend, I'm honoured I've met.

Pool Playing Women

Why do women insist on playing pool, not snooker but pool? I dont play pool I cant play, so I always refuse to and go and ask behind the bar if they have any darts for the board, but I get nagged into playing by women. So I put my fifty pence down to play and not just for a sly peek down thier top as the cue up thier shot, but to shut them up and keep them happy. But as we've had a few drinks before we play and after telling the local guy who hangs around looking for someone to play against who states that it is, 'winner stays on,' to fuck off. The game starts and after about 5 minutes with no balls potted, for some reason every woman I've played pool with, starts to cheat and obviously right there infront of me, place the balls in the pocket and laugh as they do thinking its funny and ok to cheat and stand there with a huge grin on thier half drunk face. Damn them, maybe this is the real reason why I dont play pool.

Thursday, 13 November 2008

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

Crusty Sue

You are always there my faithful,
the reason why I dont go out to pull.
You will never hurt or leave me
they dont understand, they dont see.
No matter where I go, you'll be by my side,
'it will never work,' they chorusly snide.

I love you Crusty Sue,
my guilty pleasure.
You fit perfectly, made to measure.

Once again, I come home alone,
in my pants, I'm hard as a bone.
Then you appear my faithful friend,
we both know how this will soon end.
For those many, many who may mock,
shes more to me than just a wank sock.

I love you Crusty Sue,
my guilty pleasure.
You fit perfectly, made to measure.

Laying next to you in my warm bed,
have you here, than a woman instead.
my head is spining, myself a tired mess,
waking up late, alarm blaring, time to dress.
Sock on my foot, uncrusts, becomes unstuck
yes, its the one full of my dry man muck.

I love you Crusty Sue,
my guilty pleasure.
You fit perfectly, made to measure.

There was that one awkward moment,
she had my house keys, a way into mine.
My 'then' girlfriend, walked in on me,
passed out drunk, pants folded on my knee.
You were on there, doing your magical thing
creased, crumpled on my ding-a-ling.

I love you Crusty Sue,
my guilty pleasure.
You fit perfectly, made to measure.

whats never said

I never told you, never said,
to hold you, like how you hold me.
Thats the way I want my life to be.
I just pushed you away instead.

That has been my biggest regret,
couldn't admit and let you see,
that you meant more to me
than my complete pokemon set.

I said it over again in my head
just wanting to hold you tight
I cant do it, with all my might.
you are that keeps me sane.

To me it is a very big event,
could have easily passed by
as a said whisper or sigh.
not create an awkward moment.

snuggle haiku

Me and you all snug,
warming me through like hot tea
steaming in a mug.

Monday, 10 November 2008

More Haikus

Biscuit falls in tea,
moment of bliss broken, spoilt.
Fish out dregs with spoon.

Cold draft snakes through house,
shiver rises through my toes,
Up to my red nose.

Angry Dog

Abandoned, cold and alone.
Sits afraid in the pound,
no love, hope and no home.
Barks and growls a loud din.
Making a rawful sound,
as people happily pass by him.
throat, blistered from wailing,
exhausted too tired to sleep.
Sulks at his constant failing.
Growling at those who come too close,
can do nothing but weep.
Biting those he cares for most.

Silly mutt, put him down.
Out of his misery.

cup of tea haiku

Cup of tea, too hot.
Leave it on side to cool down,
now its too cold, yuk!

Sunday, 9 November 2008

fringe haiku

Long hair, floppy fringe.
Getting in the ruddy way,
like an unkempt minge.

Saturday, 8 November 2008

A Poem About Wee

It varies does wee.

From your age, time of day, to what you drink
and what you eat, as some wee's make a stink.
You have those that sting like lemon juice,
flowing out like a freshly opened sluice;
To those the consistancy of golden syrup,
some even fizz, like alka seltzer stirred up.

Yep, weeing is great and fun for all.

Sometimes, off guard you might leek a drip or two,
As you frantically rush to the room with the loo.
Some people whistle starwars tunes as they go,
As they find that this helps maintain the flow.
Some wees start off small, nothign more than little,
So many men get the flow started with a little tickle.

Now dont get me wrong, I like a good pee.

Except those that wake you from dreams,
These bathroom visits take forever it seems,
Standing or, swaying side to side, shaking one leg,
Once you're done, giving a little shake to your peg.
Sometimes you focus and gain some composition.
Or even be lazy and sit in a ladies' positon.

Thursday, 6 November 2008

autumn haiku - again

Early morning mist.
World covered by this blanket.
Frosty autumn dawn.

roleplay gone wrong

Roleplay, should be fun.
Handcuffed to bed, she enters
smiling, with strap-on.

Wednesday, 5 November 2008


A lot of people cant make good cups of tea, Ive been told Im one of those many, but what annoys me is when people go, 'we need more milk, theres only enough for one more cup.'
I can promise you that if I go to the fridge, there is going to be more than enough milk for another 4 cups, you weak tea making piece of piss.

Monday, 3 November 2008


In Haarlem, I spent the evening drinking sweet tasting rose beer, drumming my fingers on the bartop as a dutch band play tightly in the corner. Looking at my watch I realise that it's getting late.
Not only am I in a town I dont know, but I'm in a country I've only just set foot in. It dawned on me I had better make an attempt to get to the Hostel. Staggering alone through the streets that I had only just been introduced to that morning, I make it to the bus stop and manage to get on the correct bus, as it slides effortlessly through the quiet, wide streets of Haarlem.
Out towards the outskirts of town is the Hostel, and I am still sloshing about on the bus seat from too much beer. I'm suprised with myself that I've made it this far without getting lost. I Slink into the hostel quietly, then into my room.
Everyone else is already asleep and in my experience, rather than make a mess all over the floor, I decide to get up onto my bunk before any attempt try to undress is made. The reason that I always have the top bunk is for this very reason; while attemptng to climb up the ladder to my bunk, my drunk leg swings into the bunk underneath and kicks the person below in the head. Realising what has just happened, I spring up into bed and feign a deep sleep in a desperate attempt to shift the finger of blame.
The morning blurs around, and the rest of the room begins to murmur. Poking my head out of the bunk to expect repercussions, I spot a girl in her underwear stretching off her slumber, she walks over and says something to the male on the bunk below.
Now i really feel sorry for him, I've kicked him in the head and just seen his girlfriend in her underwear.I fall back to sleep hazily drunk, awaking a little later when the room is empty. I sheepishly enter the breakfast room on my own, to feast on cold meats and cheese.


The lights from the industrial cranes of the harbour are silluetted through the dark, sitting like a charred Guy Fawkes through the fog and orange suburban lights, Harwick glows gently like burning embers from the bonfire.
The breeze cuts down from a Northenly direction with an intention to whip my hat off and make it scamper across the deck. I return inside to try and locate my room through this youth hostel designed maze.
Children scream and dart around the corridors, as teachers try to keep order, giving tired apologetic looks at everyone they pass. I trot down to the bar after giving up trying to find my room, and order a drink. A look of confusion passes over my own and the barman's face as I try to pay for a drink with both euros and pounds.
Sitting down at a table there is a mix of families, European truck drivers and travellers; all sitting together talking to one and another - where they are going and where there from, passing on tips and advice. It's a very social and friendly environment to be in.
After having a few more drinks with a German couple and a Norwegian backpacker, we look out into the pitch black darkness that this ferry hurtles through, its engines working hard agaisnt the current.
I return to my cabin, more wobbly as I'm slightly drunk. Entering my room, after wiggling my barcode keypass in the door, it suddenly reminds me off my time in student halls; drunk and trying to find my way back to my room which is very generic, versatile but comfortable. Lying on one of my two beds, I fiddle and adjust the mood lights, jumping down from the top bunk to use the bathroom, which is completely tiled so it makes not hitting the pan less of a priority. The ferry lurches slowly making it harder to pee than it is on a train, now I can see while they design bathrooms completely tiled.
Lying in bed, going to sleep, my body rocks drunkly one way as the boat rocks the other, both gently compensating each other so I sleep blissyfully.
In the morning, I am now clear headed. The intercom cackles and informs that we are arriving into Hoek van Holland. I get out on deck in the cutting fresh morning air, numbing my nose as I patiently watch the flat hollow country of Holland come into view.

Thanks to Prescott for the edit

central heating

Central heating clunks,
purring like a sleeping cat.
Heat warming through house.

Sunday, 2 November 2008

Drunk Girlfriend

Drunk girlfriend, hanging off my arm,
Holding her up, keep safe from harm.
Slurring, screeching random speech in my ear.

You whine and shiver that: ''I'm soooo cold
I should've brought a coat like I was told',
I've tuned you out, I absently reply 'yes dear'.

shoes swinging in hand, staggering barefoot
up the street, soles of her feet black like soot.
Guiding her through lumps of broken glass.

'Dont want that, want chips' So we queue again
strength in my support of you begins to drain,
as you stop to hug strangers as they pass.

I close my fingers tight around your hand,
your far too messy and drunk to understand,
the importance of the green cross code.

Guide you safely back home to our comfy bed,
you can annoy me there safely instead,
as I slip off to sleep, still in autopilot mode.

Saturday, 1 November 2008


Another morning, another trip to the bathroom,
up ahead, one more day of my life does loom.
In the mirror in front I look like a grizzly bear,
my face comes into focus through a bleary eyed stare.

Me, like a few, take time and lather up soap with a brush,
But most just electric shave as they stress about in a rush,
as I change the blade and drop the old rusty one in the bin.
I want a sharp clean fresh one to shave my chin.

Stroke up, rinse, then shave down going under and around,
pat dry with a towel, smooth face. No stubble to be found.
I wont try to grow tashes, handlebars or a goatee,
as nothing, not even fake beards seems to suit me.

Over the years I've cut off spots, left them headless
I can tell you, it involves a lot of blood and icky mess.
Steaming hot water to clean the grubby blade,
It stings and wont stop bleeding this cut I just made.
For a while I stopped shaving and a grew beard,
It got cut off pretty quickly as I looked weird.

Short Women All Over The World

Please, please listen to this, my plea.
Sorry if I headbutt you with my knee,
but you are short and seem to get in my way,
I like petite women and thats here to stay.

You hurl yourself about on the dancefloor,
wiggling, jiggling enticing me some more.
Dancing around with your hands in the air,
Like that old chestnut, 'you just dont care'.
Prancing in heels so high, almost on tippi toes,
fingers pointing upwards, that go right up my nose.

Standing next to you, I look down like you're an infant,
looking up at me, like I'm some sort of scary giant.
I stoop up against you from behind and grind,
drunk, getting hot and sweaty, I'll think you'll find,
that our size differences makes me seem bigger.
It's pressed against you like a twitchy trigger.
The shorter they are, the more kinky they'll be,
just take one home take my word, you'll see.

You're stood below me, cleavage on show,
I can look right down your top, right to your toe.
My backs gone, shot completly to creaking bits
from staring down at your tantalising tits.
But also to listen to the funny things you to say,
all this physiotherapy I think you should pay.

Watch out for me, as I lurch with a bad back
constaintly suffering from the odd spasm attack.
so have some sympathy for me and my spine,
pity me and my aching groans and well get along fine.