ANEJACULATION

 

That Night I last took an attempted O. D.

I was visited by many friends.

If it hadn’t been for their voices

I would be a fresh vegetable by now.

The O. D. took me to hospital:

it was genius of me to survive but

coming down from the chemical complexities of it all,

I lost the ability to ejaculate. Now

the lovely local lasses say

if I haven’t got ...

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I want the Nobel Prize

The one they give for Peace

I want the Nobel Prize

So give it to me please

It’s not that I’m needy,

Ignorant, profane

It’s just I need an ego massage

Now and again

 

Give me that fucking prize

It shouldn’t be a drama

You gave it Jimmy Carter, Mandela and Obama

Give me the prize

I’m feeling Presidential

Or I’ll push the nuclear button

...

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A quiet road in Donegal

is where I found this modest bridge,

a mundane thing built long ago

to cross a tiny mountain stream.

 

Beside it stands a chiselled plaque

with Gaelic words to tell the tale

of all those friends and families

that tragedy would separate.

 

A blight upon potato crops,

the staple food of common folks,

meant they would starve if they remained...

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Friendship should never end

like this

 

like going out fishing

hoping to catch a text or call

 

but instead the water

is dead, still

and there is no one there

at all

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It started off at two per cent

And now they want a little more.

Up to five is being mentioned,

Though somewhat less for the US;

It’s probably well-intentioned,

But, why? Nobody is quite sure.

 

To fight the wars that we deserve,

We’ll have to stump up lots more cash.

Mass destruction won’t come cheap:

As coffers fill to foot the bill;

The troops are massed like fri...

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43 told 33 to stop trying to fix 23

33 told 43 that it’s ok to not be the bigger person all the time

Remember what happened to 28, 29, & 30

They remind 33 that time is precious 

43 agrees

The one thousand days where sunshine was inaccurately predicted

Makes 33 anxious for 43

Because she is just as far away as 23

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It blazes. This sadistic sting.  Beneath my skin, to the nerve — a sting that knows where to go. Returning every time we are close, as if summoned by my subconscious. 

You don’t touch me. You don’t have to. I am opened in your gaze, fully clothed yet nude. I am seen. Threadbare beneath fabric. Every beautiful, poisonous contour exposed— still, you do not flinch nor falter. 

Inside my mind’s ...

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Her thighs, a moonflower opens—inhales the breath of night,

The wind, my hand, slips through the slit of her dress.

I lose the road—chest blooms, buds swell wet, her light—

Miles, a rising tide, lost at sea, her shore I can’t caress.

 

The wind, my hand, slips through the slit of her dress.

Buttons free her feral chest—rose in full bloom, my trembling fingers—moonlight.

Mile...

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We check the new fountain

purchased today. A solar powered one,

making sure it’s not misbehaving.

 

The late afternoon sun is waning

and the fountain is struggling

to keep the water spouting.

 

A grey tufted, winged traveler

doesn’t seem to mind the issue,

while splashing about in appreciation

 

for the aquatic addition to its surroundings.

Now, if we can j...

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A cold winter wind on a warm summer day

A tidal surge that flows the opposite way,

The opportunity to talk, with nothing to say.

A darkened corner in the fullness of light,

More concerned with what's left instead of what's right,

Outwardly imaginative, yet inwardly trite.

A hairspring trigger on a stone-laden sling,

a butterfly gaze with a bumblebee sting

The potential to b...

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My life is a lemon, always tart

A puckered grimace, day and night

Each twist and turn, a surprising burst of sour

Reflected in my watering eyes.

It's a jolt, a sudden sting.

 

Yet deep inside, a curious thrill delights

A thrill in the acrid bite.

The sharpest sting becomes a distracting game 

To keep me from a deeper ache

From vibrant chaos 

To drown out the whispe...

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William Wordsworth’s ‘London, 1802’, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45528/london-1802

in Italian or Petrarchan sonnet form, bemoans English society’s moral degradation and the deleterious effects of the Industrial Revolution. Wordsworth nostalgically calls on John Milton, poet and civil servant (1608-1674) to as it were, restore England to her former glory.

By way of contrast, having...

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"time is of the essence"

 

 

We compete for every moment—

               ikkoku o arasō— 

as dawn spills gold across the plains,

each breath a bargain struck in morning’s hush.

 

We vie for each minute and each second—  

             ippun ichibyō o arasō— 

while shadows flee the sun’s fierce blaze,

hearts pounding in the space between ticks.

 

Today’s s...

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SLUG

By the Urban Poet

Slide, slide, slide away

On your belly every day

In our gardens, and our sheds

Making dark places your comfy bed

No puppy dogs tails for the slugs and snails

But plants and bulbs to ruin and munch

Especially at night so you need no lunch

It’s not the story, it’s the way I tell it

Excuse me while I put down some slug pellets

I’ve tried making ...

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This old table.
It’s been at the centre.
Something we started with.
Bought as a second - 
Scratches to repair. 
But still solid. 

Food prepared,
Meals shared.
Cats on corners,
Curious; watching.
Laughter over it;
Tempers lost to it.

Shoes cleaned,
Travels planned.
Cards dealt,
Grief softened.
Games played;
Wins shared.

This table at the centre,
Darkened oak from age and we...

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When your standards are like mine

and inflation's up like this!

Then you'll opt to sell, online.

Yes, she models for her bliss 🐱

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Finally,

     Out of breath

            at the top of the mountain, what a view! Well deserved rest

after years of slippery upward

                                         vine-grabbing vertical climbing

 

There

    comfortably seated on moss covered stones,

                     near a lovely cascading musical waterfall sighing

              the ancient sage studies me i...

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Lord. Dear Lord
after Mahalia Jackson
 
We woke up this Sunday morning 
with the crows inside our heads.
Yes, we woke up this Sunday morning 
with the crows pecking at our beds.
Outside and inside this mourning
they forage for our dead.
 
And Gabriel’s gotta tin can
gonna twist it to a blade.
Our Gabriel’s gonna kill a man
cos his debts have to be paid.
The Bishop took the cornered P...

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In this life are we just actors
And is our world merely a stage?
Can we decide upon our own roles?
Or are we forced inside a cage?

In our lives do we play many parts
As stated by our Bard?
Should we show who we really are
Or put on a facade?

Is each day just a little story?
Where there exist many plots
And do we endure our curses
Like the Lady of Shalott?

So should we sail down t...

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Again and again

another day comes to torment our hearts

with the same gruesome soul wearying news

 

the merciless demons lustings

for the blood of the helpless

that continues to stain the headlines

 

the hope-lost starving innocents

with what little strength they have

wandering weakly towards the likeliness 

of their unforgiveable unforgettable unsurpassable deaths

...

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Crazy

Crazy is her super power

Crazy

But in a positive way

 

Stronger

Stronger by hour and hour

And nothing –

Least ways pain stopped her play.

 

Warrior

Warrior Queen in white armour

Three Lions

Not forged in iron

But in Bronze

 

Crazy

We love you because you're so crazy

You're Pride of Great Britain

Can't help it – we're smitten

We're...

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DOGS OF UNYE

Black Sea

Feral dogs are playing on the beach,

they come here to be out of reach

of park attendants chasing them

and policemen in the central square

where head-scarved women chat

at the cake festival, contestants

in the precision craft of sponge.

 

Banks are not dispensing cash,

you get your Lira at jewellery stores

as the owners squirrel currency

...

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A lost ant, on the moon,
this donation can not effect much
but withholding it would need
cell walls unfeasibly thick.
One more overdrawn gesture
a handful of grass the horses disdain;
a call into the vacuum;
a message from the other side.

A soap-bubble a child blows
clearly holds more oxygen,
though the wind from a firestorm 
lifting my hair glamorously
is real and, not quite a ...

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7 Delay will steal your precious hours, And leave you with a heavier load. Each moment lost will dim your powers, And slow your footsteps on the road. Begin before your will grows thin— The race is only lost within. 8 The world may shout what must be done, But rules alone can't make life true. What works for most won’t fit just one, So write the script that speaks for you. There is...

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Living inside all humanity.

Feeding on emotions of

Despair, Desperation,

Depression and Desolation.

Never satisfied,eating leaves

Me hungry for more .

Created,  to ensure humanitys 

Survival.I and We are one

And the same.Who am I ?

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“The lamps are going out all over Europe, we shall not see them lit again in our life-time” British Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward Grey.

Old Royal Enfield bicycles
& rifles propped against a wall,
a gaggle of men,
in this humid heat
their necks are sticky
their collars starched and neat
& look! in the far distance,
a gable end
and look! a house.

Windows left wide open
in this hig...

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England v Spain Euro Cup Final kick off 5pm - - -

Setbacks encounted

Once tackled

Fighting spirit

Kicks in

Superglued on

Still not- knowing

Who cares

Champions are

Built on

Stubborn courage

Maybe a

Little luck

Added on.

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Sit in this,

sit in bliss,

this day dawns,

then it is gone.

Inside every being 

there is an animation,

inside every being

there is an illumination. 

Be in this,

be in love,

suffer with patience.

Feel the ancient joy

that shines with the sun,

feel the ancient sorrow

that cries with the moon.

Nothing is ever truly lost,

all is always sweetly transforme...

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I don't care for your blinkered view
Israel shame on you
Starvation I see and I am blue
Israel shame on you
Your apathy sucks this much is true 
Israel shame on you

From the river to the sea
A two state solution is necessary 
The IDF is running amok
President Trump doesn't give a fuck
Palestine as state has a right to exist
Two tier starmer Trumps arse he kissed

Our leaders sitting...

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There's a body in the white goods

Somewhere in the backwoods 

Inflated with inflation

It drowned in new taxation 

 

The hands of power strangle

Poking from every angle

Moulding it weak & small 

A cock without its balls 

 

Limp in forced compliance 

Devoid of all defiance 

Its decomposition, 

deemed too unstable 

‘Dispose of carefully’ 

it read on t...

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If I would 

If I could 

If I 

If I 

Slipping through the sea

Sea

Sea

The sand speckled 

Sculpture of your beauty 

Through the blazing gloary of your reverance

The guilty pleasure of worshipping your idol

We are idol

worshiping in our pleasure

 

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I left them quite some time ago

To chase my leaf in the river's flow.

They stayed behind with what they knew

Bowing and swaying, as winds thrashed and blew.

 

Feeling safe, they would not travel far

Content their lot was whom they are.

But what they built, dreams forced askew

Soon clouds condensed, and pressures grew.

 

The tempest roared but then passed with haste,

...

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The punishment of being average

Working hard to be insignificant

To be unimpressionable

Forgettable

Not memorable

Categorically credible

Always the candidate

Never the chosen

Always the nominee

Never the number one

Exceptionally unexceptional

“Good”, yes, hum-drum

 

A feeling unrecognisable to heroes

Even unknown to villains

With separate woes,

Those...

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I am woman, a woman sourced from another woman

I am an equal to my brother, but another decides differently

Hints of passion are mistaken for lust

My trust issues have a founding father, but I’d rather not mention their name

The patriarchy preceded me, but my intelligence supersedes me

They try to get in between my personality and looks

Books, I use to fill my thoughts, but ...

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Metaphors sailing along the lines,
a language only silence dares to define,
when the world chooses not to understand,
she is a poem I’m still trying to comprehend.

Between pauses and gentle words,
she gives birth
to what the world needs to hear
a beauty that unfolds from within.

She hides her wounds beneath layers of metaphor,
her words are silent confessions that softly overflow
a q...

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Do you know that one day we all die??

It's a statement, not a lie.

One day, we all pass away.

No one will happen to stay.

 

 

I beg you, be kind with the loved one.

Don't do anything just for fun

Remember that our life is too short

And another life can't be bought.

 

 

You are young; life seems endless.

Everything seems to be timeless.

And Fox doesn't come...

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Smile like the sun when the morning breaks,
A light that warms and never takes,
Carry joy in all you do,
And let the world be brighter too!

A kind word here, a gentle touch,
Small things that somehow mean so much,
Love is not loud, it softly grows,
In every heart that overflows!

Be the calm in someone's storm,
A spark of hope, a hand that is warm,
A laugh, a hug, a thoughtful glance,
...

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Your medulla oblongata expands as I utter poems,
not from beauty, no, but from the unbearable burden of thought.
Your chromosomes are my tomes,
written in the absurd dialect of a God who hides behind silence.

I do not read you for comfort.
I dissect you, word by word, cell by cell,
the way a weary theologian dissects a gospel he no longer believes.

You are scripture scrawled in nucleoti...

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The amount of badges 

show my potential

And the amount sewn on

Show how much I care

As the pins dig into 

My polo uniform 

I put on a front

Say that I care at all

 

And girl guides

Raises strong men

Even if that's not

Their intentions 

Cause they taught me

How to build a flag pole

And hang my flag up high 

 

My pink white and blue

My promise to...

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The morning comes unwanted,

creeping outside my window...

 

the new day with its sunrise balaclava

hoping to catch me unawares,

 

desperately trying to recall my dreams

as they escape across the lawn.

 

No matter, they will come back again,

one day I'll catch them forever.

 

There's a fox outside staring at me intently,

the edge of the day peels open, he...

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Faint Hum

 

In the upstairs room of The Railway Tavern, Ben chairs a discussion around a fictitious tale. With the author of Human, Animal present, Seth Insua deep dives me into intergenerational trauma and queer self-discovery. During the Q&A, a question is posed, “What memories do you not want to forget?’. In earshot of the Two Brewers just down Clapham High Street, I can hear the faint hu...

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The trees breathe
down in the garden
I pause my lungs
running on fumes
I want to work
but the world seems unconvinced
As I begin to speak
a howling sigh of wind
Snuffs out the spark 
of my feeble dream
I’m covered in cobwebs
in my waiting room…

A strange amorphous shape
swells and swallows
Even the vaguest sketch 
of hope I can muster
I can’t seem to shake 
this cloud magnetic
...

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There's one strange place he goes every week

Where they dare to mean what they speak

With ease and clarity

They do this as Charity

 

Naming it something that oozes bile

So vagrant, offensive but with a smile

He cares alot for this place

To make my money and save face

 

The kids are Chidren and not Young People

To spare the blushes of the steaple

Such flippant st...

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Maybe I care too much, or maybe too little. I don't know, I can't quite figure it out.

When I was young I thought of myself as the hero of the story. Twists and turns and getting older.

I am the villain in my own story now, even though I have the best of intentions.

Addiction is a hell of a thing.

But I'll dig and claw and scratch my way out of this hell, this hole.

If indecision cr...

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Interview with Post-Punk.com

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not all that glistens is gold

it dawns on me as i feel my stomach fold

this story was written before it began 

it will repeat as long as it can

“i know you’ve been hurt”

you mentioned this while hurting me

but did you know i’ve been healed?

i took photos of people i thought i would always know

i laughed at stupid jokes i pretended to hate

i etched voices into my mind tha...

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Superlatives ricochet

Off reflected facts, 

The havoc wreaked 

Captured not even once;

In its wake?

A tree-speckled past;

 

Yet balloons

Defy borders, drifting

Past, nonchalant, 

Intentional perhaps, 

Like a needed migration

Of imagination to where

Life does matter much...

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I had to sit back and ask myself, 

“What is gonna make me happy?”

I could stare at the mirror for days before I came up with a decent sentence to say. 

“Lean back to you? Find another mattress to cling on with someone to seduce?”

See?

Nothing came out new and that’s how I knew. 

Stop what I was doing, so the circle I’m renewing would break off in two. 

Break off from you.

A...

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Raindrops, so rapid and vast

Pouring into the river of past

Memories, experiences, moments that didn't last

Nothing lasts.

Whether I wish it away

Or pray it will stay

Nothing lasts.

For better or worse

A compliment or a curse

So sad I want to die or so happy I could burst

Nothing lasts.

Not the lust in his eyes

Or the hero in disguise

Collision of bodies and ...

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Corruption and deformity

must haunt the major dynasty:

a scheming witch, licentious imp,

a severed hand, sadistic prince;

suggestions of incest, perhaps,

and Charles Dance wearing gravitas.

 

Let there be dragons far beyond

commanded by a fiery blonde,

whose husband looks like Genghis Khan -

though she might be a lesbian.

That head he’s skewered on his knife

onc...

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