Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Johnny's big day out

Johnny went a wanderin’ went to see his Dad, a man he loved & loathed but the only one he had. Johnny inched himself out and pissed upon the earth, mouthing coarse obscenity “fuck your fucking birth, fuck your fucking lies and the promises you spoke, fuck your fucking hate, fuck you I'm not broke. Fuck you as you lie there rotted skin & bone, fuck your lifeless corpse fucked & all alone” Johnny turned upon his heal & headed to the gate. A moment Johnny dreamt of so long he had to wait. “Our paths will never cross again, so Dad don’t hold your breath in life you were a wanker & I’m rejoicing in your death”

Sunday, 28 August 2011

Gadaffi





















Where is Gaddafi
it seems he is lost?
Is he in Aviemore
amongst the frost?

Maybe in Surrey
down by the Thames?
Salty sea dog,
with seafaring friends.

Lost on the beach
in Blackpool town.
A kiss me quick hat,
& red painted frown.

Soho is calling,
fetish & sex.
Premium rate
subscription & text.

Where is Muammar
to take the blame?
Redundant pawn
in the Congress game.

Thursday, 25 August 2011

Roads paved with gum
















Roads that are paved with gum
stuck your dreams to concrete scum,
is this all you can become
living in this soulless slum?

All that’s glistening is fake
every chancer’s on the make,
so you better stay awake
for it’s you they’ll split & break.

Meagre basis for their question,
clueless fools without direction,
cast aside their interjection,
disregard the loose connection.

Weary faces broke & numb
pray to see your hopes succumb,
to their dreary life of scum
stick your dreams to worthless gum.

Friday, 19 August 2011

Citric & Filters












Citric & filters,
like coffee & cream,
china for you,
a dani for me.

Digging the groin,
is bore out of love,
a fit of perfection,
like feet in a glove.

Barrels & pins,
spoon overloaded,
shake coffee beans,
my life has imploded.

I’ll dream,
I'll eternally dream.

Wednesday, 17 August 2011

Regret










Her soft gentle kisses
seeking love & union,
delicate, expectant,
yearning to be found.

Met with abrasive lust,
coarse, callous & cold,
dispassionately bestowed
without her requisition.

Unacquainted he falters,
her anguish a familiar fate,
aching to be kissed gently
longing for him to hold her.

Monday, 8 August 2011

Panic on the streets of London. . . .













You have to question it all really. From a football supporters view the highly respectable people from the area of Tottenham arrived in Wigan last year chanting “ Wigan’s a shithole I want to go home”. Well maybe it is a shithole, but it’s our shithole & we’re not burning it down & looting it as a protest. Ditto West Ham, Aston Villa, Birmingham etc and this from people who call us Northern Monkeys !!

It’s indicative of the countries inability to apply a swathe of social pressure on the government without making an arse of it. Take the French for example; when they dig their heals in they dig them in deep & the responsible authorities listen. Is that the underlying reason though really? There are 12yr old kids throwing bricks at Policemen. I wouldn’t have thrown a dirty look at a Copper when I was a kid, such was the fear of what might happen. There’s no respect for anything, no respect for each other & don’t believe that a lack of respect is a disease of the youth. Who do they learn from? Us, their elders & parents.

So what happens when we the voting public become unhappy with our lot? No-one does anything, we walk around disgruntled & make a noise slightly above a whisper in protest. Enter the thugs; unopposed they smash any rational argument with violence, damage & looting. How the fuck can shitting on your own doorstep & robbing off your own achieve anything?

Gang tags including North9 and NPK sprayed all over the place, are the Police prepared for it? Of course not, but don’t worry because Boris Johnson is cutting short his holiday to come back & deal with it. And what is David “holiday boy” Cameron doing about it? He’s still on holiday.

Is it the disenfranchised using violence as a way to be heard? I don’t know, I ran out of answers a long time ago. My mate has text me to say the riots have kicked off in Walton-on-Thames! Apparently they’re throwing their Mo√ęt & Chandon in the Thames!!!

The gap is widening & the opportunities for the disaffected (& self appointed disaffected) to use socioeconomic disadvantages as a means to destroy are on the rise. I can only imagine how the EDF & BNP must be rubbing their hands in anticipation.

I’m no sociological, psychological or political analyst. But I know one thing, it aint looking good & those charged with providing the answers; the elected representatives, don’t seem to know either.

Or maybe it’s a divide & conquer strategy ?

Friday, 5 August 2011

Growing old disgracefully.
















Everyday in every way
got a bigger face to wash,
I aint got Rooney’s money
for a follicle new bush.

Should I beg of Gordon Ramsay
for a crater face to heal?
Should I twitter Ryan Giggs
how to KOP a fresh meat feel?

So I emailed Barry Bethel,
I can empathise with him.
Just a roly poly fat cunt
with a lust for chips & gin.

Everyday in every way
got an older face to scrub,
growing old disgracefully
least I’m dying with your love.

Monday, 25 July 2011

Amy Winehouse - The Death of Dignity
















Before you get the wrong impression of the title let me set the record straight. The death of Amy Winehouse is an absolute tragedy. A young woman who Tony Bennett described as a woman with a true expression of Jazz.......

The lack of dignity that troubles me is that which has been expressed on Twitter. Kelly Osbourne stated that she was so devastated by the news of Amy’s death so much that she was struggling to breathe; not struggling enough however that she couldn’t post on twitter. Where did personal grief disappear to? When was it the norm that the first reaction of a close friend was to post on a social network? I am being too cynical to conclude that Kelly et al unconsciously/consciously saw a chance to catapult their selves into the spotlight on the back of a pseudo friend’s death?

Why couldn’t Kelly & her ilk make their announcements of grief privately to the family of Amy? I’m not sure about you but the last time someone close to me died my actions in the immediate aftermath was to consider if & when I should contact them. The furthest thing from my mind was to outpour my grief to an inordinate amount of people that barely know me or the recently deceased on a social network.

What a photo opportunity it was for the likes of Ailsyene from Big Brother to turn up bawling her eyes out for the cameras in front of the deceased’s house? Let alone all the other heartbroken yesterday celebs, who have aligned themselves to Amy’s untimely death.

Of course the majority of you reading this will be screaming “filthy smackhead” & will be reassuring yourselves with your ignorance that “she could have stopped”. Alas my ignorant friends you have next to nothing of an understanding of addiction & how it grips a person. How many of you smoke & can’t stop? How many of you are clinically obese & blame it on your glands. The old fail safe excuse eh, my fat friend?

When you cut through the smoke & mirrors Amy Winehouse was as fucked up as most of us are, relying on an unhealthy crutch to make it through the rain. Unfortunately for her, the crutch she chose to support her had immediately devastating effects. As for the rest of us, we’ll have to wait for coronary heart failure due to hypertension, hypercholesterolemia & diabetes to seal our fate.

Choose your poison. Was Amy really that bad?

Sunday, 19 June 2011

Within















I see beauty in life
beauty within you
despite what you said
& sins that I do...

I see beauty in you

Shadows wont disguise it
nor hidden in the shade
bathed with warmest love
bold & unafraid

beauty lives within you

Nurture what's within
let it grow & bloom
bursting to be found
illuminate the room...

beauty radiates from you

I see beauty in you
your beauty lights my life
eternally yours
my trouble and my strife...

you are beauty

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

An open letter to the School Reunionists



Recently I was invited to a school reunion. A chance, to meet all those dear dear friends that I haven’t seen since I was 16. But you see there’s a reason I haven’t met all those dear dear friends since I was 16.

It’s not because time passed so quickly. It’s not even because life’s events overtook those oh so precious relationships, and here I am, 40yrs old with time to catch up and see what life has thrown at my oldest dearest friends.

You see my dear friends, it’s none of the above or anything else you can think of. It’s because of this; I couldn’t stand the fucking sight of you set of cunts for all the unfortunate years I was incarcerated with you during the happiest days of our lives. In the interim I moved away from the shit hole that is Earlestown & I travelled the world!! That’s right readers; I actually have spent more that a two week annual holiday to the Costa Wanka away from the place I was born. And to boot I didn’t marry my best friends sister.

You see, all you School Re-unionists I don’t hate you, it’s with a heavy heart that I write this sorry tale. It’s a sorry tale because of this simple fact. Deep down you feel the same too. As you look at the photographs of this momentous occasion ask yourself this. Did the prick to the right of you actually constitute as a friend? What were those glorious childhood memories that have been so perfectly encapsulated on your reunion photos all these years on?

In a one stop, fits all moment of crazy sale madness I’ve saved a little bit for you.

I’m not full of bile, but then again I’m not full of shit either.

Anyway, I’m off upstairs to kiss my kids goodnight before snuggling up to the woman I love. Tomorrow I’ll speak, text, e-mail my friends. All of it in the present and I wont think of you for a single. . . fucking. . . .second.

Simplicty

Beyond life’s complexities
simplicity exists,
love, truth & confluence,
to hope & to cherish…

and the many gathered here
will be as your witness
that the simple things in life
are the realisation. . .

of your dreams

Monday, 2 May 2011

The Second Coming

















Christ has got a Facebook page,
a new account on Twitter.
He’s taken latest photographs,
to publish them on Flikr.

JesusChrist.com
will alert yer first by text.
Send a message to yer e-mail,
dates of where he’s touring next.

Put yer name down for subscription,
to “Jesus Christ events”.
Signed exclusively to SKY
ITV & Beeb are vexed.

Both Oprah & Jay Leno,
battle for him as star guest.
Turin Shrouds exclusively,
to be autographed & blessed.

Christ sponsored by Coke Zero,
the sugar free Coke drink.
Underwritten by Lloyds Bank,
all the cooperates are in sync.

So pull up yer front row seats,
pour yerself an ice cool beer.
The show starts in 5 minutes,
for the second coming’s here.

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