Monthly Archives: October 2022
This wasn’t the life that was advertised
I am surprised
and yet lies
are a belief of some kind
they advertised this life but it has been unkind.
They teased social mobility
the agility to move into the middle class
but aspirations
fall short
they distort
where realised truths stands the door
to the psychiatric ward
where holidays abroad
stand a benefits trap
a DWP map
with no way out
I doubt
I will find a way
into a future a brighter day.
This life isn’t as advertised
through google goggles
through YouTube models
I don’t have a car
three kids and a wife
I have pain and strife
Pessimism is my crutch
no offers or as much
No one gives me a chance at a job
they just call me a benefits slob
I look after my Dad as carer
they swear yeah
even when diagnosed with a serious mental health problem
they think I robbing
tax payers
and no amount of praying
will solve
when the life as advertised dissolves.
Alienpoet’s poet CV
Honesty
People don’t want truth
delusions and illusions
are more loved
more accepted
more respected
Honesty, a fools game
people douse you in shame
a repulsive mix
stick and stones
may break my bones
but words will dethrone
a king from his own throne
and people will turn away
and leave him alone
the mirror of truth is always distorted
we want to keep it that way
we aren’t objective
we want to be respected
but our public relations feed on Facebook
would bleed away if ever we showed who really are
Our fragility and our fragile ego
Break like a dropped model of Lego.
My poetry never gets read
My poetry never gets read
it hides in street corners instead
it lurks in the shadows of grey days
and seeps like a Smokey cigar out the window in a haze
It gathers at poetry recitals
where it splutters and mumbles
into action
my poetry is just a distraction
an interaction between a mad man and an audience
an ordinate scream
like pissing in a stream
and wondering what it smelt like
starving poets told to go on hikes
My poetry never gets read
it feeds the angels instead
but they don’t share
or care
enough to tell
what poetry of mine is from heaven and what is from hell.
I just like writing
poetry which is like lyrics without musical interlude
I know it’s rude but never mind you won’t read it anyway
and if you do have nice day…