School to prison train

Welcome aboard the school to prison line

detentions then exclusion

no empathy, no reasons explored

just decided by the school board

No counselling, no mental health help

just bad behaviour labelled

sent to pupil referral unit after an permanent exclusion

no knowledge of what I was suffering at home

my Dad is alcoholic and my Mum and Dad argue and fight all time

I am alone as the TV drones

I don’t want to end up in prison

but life is a schism

of what you’ve been given

and it starts will being labelled thick

a joker, a troublemaker, a prick

and school teachers have no time

to form a relationship with someone who is hard work

and they are told discipline is key and I am a jerk

they won’t reach me if I am in hell of my parents and circumstances making

and it easier to push me out the door

Yesterday the police knocked on my door and my Dad threatened to kick the shit out me if happens again

cause I got into a fight

prison he says is where I am going to end up in if don’t buck up my ideas

but my Dad and Mum are too busy squabbling to see my tears.

Humanity cure or disease

The nightmare begins

dreams tear apart at the seams

we given into dystopian

dysfunctional futures

where we nurture our own

tribal desires

our hope lies with Gaia

seeing everything as us

we bleed so do the trees

and everything

we are one organism

burning our dead

Just to stay ahead

or so we think

death is our reaping

it is creeping in

Where are the prophets

we traded for profits

where is justice

is it in us?

what about the animals

what about the insects

the trees

are we the cure or the disease?

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

Capitalism

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.

Lament of the sparrowman

In a down and out town
Lives a man not occupied enough to be a clown
the jokes on him
and the joke wears thin
living in the past
cast in the jaws of hell that last
and captures all his virtues narrowed
by fate in acting up too late he is a sparrow
locked in a cage
Mindless and in a unconscious rage
he may tweet on Twitter
and he has a lot to witter
on about
but his mind is full of doubt
and opportunities don’t come often
to soften
the blows which rain down from people with agendas
who will take advantage of misadventure
and misfortune
he is a drunken loon
not by alcohol but by the moon
insanity is casting aspersions
and his friends leave and desert him
he yearns like the sparrow to fly free
but he hasn’t got heaven’s key
medical sedatives don’t inspire visions
What he needs is a decision
to break with the past.

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.

I have let the war fade away

Blood shot eyes
Awake in flashback nightmares
Screaming in silence
Lost in guilt ridden violence
Everyday is a brutal regime
There’s no distinguishing no changing
What I have done
Screaming victims is the war won?

A burning temper
A cold December
I try not to drink.
Realities torment I try not to think
Every time their faces come back to me
I stammer when I talk, I just can’t be
Screaming victim is the war won?

My family tries to support
My ravaged soul
I see the flames
They are burning out if control
In the distance a ray of light
Paralyzed by anxiety
I look to my family
Is the war won?

I am getting beaten
But I won’t back down
I forgive myself
I won’t back away
If there is a god
They’d forgive me I pray
I have let my war fade away…