Rome…

Rome wasn’t built in a day so they say

Alone under my quilt am startin to go grey

blown all my chances, heart in disarray

home is where you fart, shit, piss n forever pray

 

layed down pennin out my pain on a Friday

slayed my doubts aint gonna pout aint gonna play

crazy is the shoutin outside that wake me up then

try to get my zeds my heads messed up again

 

perpetually fed up in so many ways

incredibly stressed you see the blood pump my veins

nothing bring zest I just get carried away

take me to the grave before my grey matter strange

 

everything is tame I could say its ok

the thing is I dont wanna be lyin about life

the bite of a spider the blade of a knife

gettin high like space just to pace out my stay

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As spirits bloom

As spirits bloom as will the doom you know

it is so hard to be yourself

As love may come and go to show you woes

I may discard who brings me health

 

As sun or rain or joy or pain will flow

the rivers soaked up by the clouds

and underneath the rain fall worms will grow

to bring the flowers fertile ground

 

The city where I stay she is my cage

she keeps me cosy from the dark

Although the stone and concrete pave the way

to sit and stay and make no mark

 

The hills afar where water scars the earth

is where I’d rather be sometimes

I lack the will to find the thrills to journey

past the urban ways of life

is life so fair

Another sonnet of sorts

To spend my time still drifting through my mind

Instead of lifting up to work the grind

To close my eyes to wake to find you gone

I roused to like myself as only one

And still my fluttering heart beats soon pound

Inside my chest as I am all alone

I needed you to call me on the phone

Although my feet are firmly with the ground

I yearn to hear your voice again and say

A simple word of loving ill refrain

Because your heart belongs to someone else

I am but stuck in hell all by myself  

Although it could be worse and life is fair

To me I find no other could compare

Ganga

A sonnet of sorts

If only love was simpler than it is

I find myself to mourn the emptiness

Of heart of soul how cold the Cupid’s tricks

To fill my mind of hope to hold her breast

If things were meant to be it seems I’ve missed

To reach my goal to reach on out to her

Our bodies seem to be awaiting bliss

Although we both do hold to lovers worse

At least I like to think as such of us

And when we are together may not come

I’d love us two to spiral all as one

Embracing bodies smoothly not of lust

Alas my lover comes not yet to me

I confess delusions may well be

Tick tock…

The night is terrifying

Her calm claws crept along my skin so silently 

My spine shuddering to the ice cold bite of the frosty air 
As I look inside myself I can see clearly the calamity of loss

Not just death but also how they run away when you scream
Like thousands of baby spiders from a broken belly of a mother about to face an uncertain future
How I wept once

But my tears are dry for I wept too much as a boy
Dry like a mother who has long since been one and escaped the cycles of bloodshed only to face the threat of cancer and fragile bones 
Snapping like twigs under the feet of monsters who turn the light to darkness and run through the hands of the clock twitching and turning in their sleep waiting for another hit
Tick tock

goes the clock

always moving 

Never stops

A corpse’s life 

the best laid plans all gone to waste my pace is resting still

of lifes demands my fate disgraced

of days so many ill
I should be glad I’ve had my fill

of food and love and play

although I’ll go another place

and never find the thrill
I’ve lost the cause I’ve honed my grave

with vice so nice to chill

but twice the rotton corpse charades 

as when the darkness killed
all of my love I was betrayed

by bohemian will

and status lost and at a cost

and you all pay the bill

Woman Stalker Ballard 

the consequence not heaven sent the phone it goes again

this wench is bent she cant forget

i wish it was pretend 
she calls and calls

sends numerous texts

which I ignore each time

I try to form

a strategy

there goes the doorbell chime
she posts a card

thats not filled in

a faded photograph

I tell my friends

of all these things

so we can have a laugh
although its sad

and makes me mad

she cant forget my smell
why cant she just

be fucking glad

and fuck off back to hell