The road

The road we are heading down
is a totalitarian nightmare
homeless being less well treated than a stray dog
polluted rivers and dreams smog covers the sky
as we are born into slavery and die
no accountability from our governments
the poor and disabled laments
as we fall into the garbage of the present tense
we are human don’t you know we were all born this way
the love in hearts falling through the hour glass
cast in the depths of hell
the rich get richer we are no deeper than the graves
we fall into
the sins of our generations will be remembered
as our bodies our broken and dismembered
for capital gain
trespassing on the lands of shame
we are guilt ridden if we don’t fight back
we might as well draw back
the smoke from a crack pipe
and die masking our pain
we are human we are all born with a brain
and a soul
but money has us under the Kosh
and we are squashed.

Playground games

The flower what might have been hope it’s but a label
the adult I am a fable
slowly growing unable.

my words can longer stand
like petals in the wind
love like life sin, missed targets
and getting a grade F
fucking it all off in jest

life is a test paper
but we all have to get different scores
life is unfair and that is the first law
I learnt to remember
life’s first lesson
I keep

it doesn’t matter how beautiful
or big your heart is
or how nicely you kiss
conform or be hit with reality fist
for we all abuse the different
the playground is my reference.

Capitalism is spent


The poor’s prison
couldn’t hold us we have no value
binned in the sin bin
the void is massive and not narrow
unless you go to Eaton or Harrow
you will never get to be an MP
and make a change to the system or stats
Life was made for fat cats and bankers
don’t worry I can just about afford the bus you wankers
we live in a free country or are we free but dumb
Is there any real freedom?
in the rat race chase for digital money
if we make a loss, print some more or take out a loan
quantitative easing splurge your money on wanton distractions
Tv,computers, phones, the system works in subtraction
take away all your time so you cannot rebel
Welcome to hell and the shell of system
we are organised enough to make a change?
life is too hard to rearrange?
When we work in our family packs
like dogs or other animals
human beings working for own destruction
the planet is being destroyed by plastic and green house gases
while we too distracted by prosthetic tits and asses
getting them done or seeing them on show
sex opium it’s the new scent
no wonder capitalism is spent.

Asking Alexandria

You say you are the devil
Is she in your eyes?
Cold like black ice
Starless skies.

why did you wound yourself with all those scars?
Did you make a third of the stars fall from the sky?
I want to help you but they take you away
this is a prison not a hospital so you say
you said you possess people, anyone you want
I am stuck with a voice inside my head
is it yours?

I once wanted to escape to heaven
through a back door
if Love is key why can’t I free you from the curse
Love is chains which bind me, grind me down
I want to ask you if I could be your friend but I am a clown

I am the hound which guards your gates
I am Cerberus one head in the past
One in the present who waits
One in who looks to the future and doesn’t hesitate
devil or woman I want you to free
but Love is only real love if we both can free?

The devil is a dog who lives alone

The devil is a dog who lives alone
No roots to break through his heart of stone
He sits alone in his despair
No devil may care attitude to wear
life is love and connection
no time for too much introspection
He often reminisces in the fortress his home
but death is regret and the drone of tv
I wish he says I had a heart
the memories I have pick me apart
But at the end it’s tv meals
that steal our time
Moments spent with others,chime
they are our reason to live
people are our reason to give.

Pop star pink

Really you’re a can of dreams
a product on a shelf
A mystery sold with stealth
cool as a cucumber
you don’t slumber
Your image bright as a summers day
To the music industry you pray
to break through
into the mainstream
a pop artist with an image sheen
singing a clean song
when you want to swear
creativity gone your left with despair
and singing in your underwear
to pull in the punters
life is full of grunter’s and groaner’s
and beautiful songstress moaners
sounding like their fresh as a big O
or dancing like a jiggle low
you all sound the same
but the money’s good
sing for all your worth you know you should.

Inside the mad man

The clammer of the overthinking overwhelmed mind

chattering away with itself like a overused hard drive.

Hope, but she is a caged bird waiting for her master

faith but all faith is enslaved in disaster.

A sonnet of despair, a song of solitude

a monologue of filth and the rude

a innocent boy and a prude.

A crazy overbearing self talk squawk

a chalk drawing of heart that’s been erased.

A penis looking up at the sky

A black dog biting its owner

A loner waiting for the strength to cry.

Freedom from attachment

but a wanting to be engaged and attached

Discourse divorced a face scratched.

silence like a scream

a dream turning into a nightmare

a blank stare

a daydream being expelled.

Hell carrying on into a lonely hello

An eye open that cannot be shut

a slut shutdown clown

love becoming only a noun.

A punk prayer

A punk prayer

A leather studded glove
A love for the obscene
I’d like to f*ck you it’d be my dream
Mohawks and tats
Never mind the bollocks you tw*ts
Chains of thick metal
and studs and hoops
Groupies and groups of the disaffected
Reflected in the eyes of your sunglasses
Tartan mini skirts and asses
Anarchy in the eyes of the youth
Paint the town red
Amen in the eyes of new gods
men and women