Friday, 30 March 2012

A haiku

Dented urinal
How did you become so scarred?
Dropped phone during call.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

Sorry Son, Life is Shit

Loosening stitched
woollen doll
hangs in car rear window
from invisible
suction cup
through tight road turns
circling vulture manovures
overhead a gurgling baby.
A waining yellow thread
tangled around
choking that stuffed fat
woollen neck.
With pained eyes
the doll looks towards
the innocent sock sucking new life
clunk clicked safe
within its expensive carseat.
'This is how your ansestors
used to punish criminals.'
with sullen eyes
the baby nods,
its first lesson about humans.

Its Just Always Cold in my Room

Davies my housemate,
is hung like a horse
this is something I discovered
just last night infact.
Furious intertwined
dry humping
with a girl I finally brough home
to my paddington bear duvet.
'I dont have any protection
I've err, ran out.'
Exiting my tiny room
onto the lowly lit landing.
With groinal
rearrangement composure
I peer around his door
and ask to borrow one.
He throws me a string of
durex branded condoms
with the weight and
flexibility of a studded belt.
With Roger Moores James Bond
eyebrow raised
I reenter my room
where I view one more closely
it looks like the teacup ring
stained coaster by the side of my bed.
I catch her gawping.
she makes her excuses
as she bundles for the exit
where I hear a faint femine knock
on his door.

These are things i feel when i think about you

Space dogs and butterflies,
stare at me with
those beautiful eyes.
Our love will rise.

I want to paw at you
my ball of wool
to hold you
by rainbow
coloured yarn armful

Dance about like fire flies
Beat out time with
heart felt cries.
Until we die.

I want to paw at you
my ball of wool
to wrap you
my blanket
warming this heart full.

Life plans to revise
here now stood with
my first place prize.
Under blue skies.

Space cats and tickled fish
you're my one pure wish.

a haiku

Stream flows past numb feet
pinching at goosepimpled legs.
Threw phone not dog toy.

a haiku about being lonely

Tobacco pouch sniffed
pressed hard against lonely lips.
Your kiss sorely missed.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

its why im fucked up

these scars
are my attempts
to smother these fires
that burn inside
no words escape
for fear of back draft

those strangers in the photographs
childhoods smiling with laughs
except one sullen face
now smiles
as the images curl in the flames
those memories erase

these tears
are not enough
to extinguish those years
another memory
stokes the flames
for here i breakdown

you think its easy to speak, but its not

I’ve let so few in
so I know
when you’re not there
I’m lost here nowhere

sustained on my silence
I’ve feasted for years
I’ll die obese and self righteous.

please as you’re leaving
close the door
on the way out of my heart

I’m still walled in
so you don’t
know that I’m there
you’re now elsewhere

sustained on my silence
you've starved for years
still made no peace in your absence

a cold wind still blows
in through that
open door
you left behind

the result of 'active cuddles'

Rain reflects
our naked form
in prisms of rainbow shades
That sweet sex smell
through cold breeze
from open window.
Carried through
into the other rooms
in which we fuck.
We lay panting and satisfied
as the breeze
shaves us naked of our
tingly sweat.

I spent too long thinking about these gifts

still have your Christmas presents,
here in January
under the dead tree
I hoped we could of worked it out

the videogame already outdated
achievements never completed

the chocolates welded together
now nothing but trash treasure

these gifts
with no exchange value,
due to expired receipts

the film in this lomograph camera
imagining our now none scenes.

this scrapbook plan of our future
didn’t contain all our answers

I still have your Christmas presents
here in November
in the hope you'll come
back this coming December

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

A haiku

Lip marked coffee cups
Listen in they whisper on.
Confined secrets told.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

a haiku

Dew heavy sun through,
Through tissue paper thinning mist.
Crisp dawn unwrapping.