In love a warring couple both get called the devil

In the heart aching,shifting
in loves breaking, gifting
In my torn out drifting
of graveyard games
in the Devils tormented names.

Freedoms cut loose
you fight, you don’t fit your obtuse
renegade spitting spirit
Locked out of heaven again
a couple of lovebirds fallen short
In loves painful name calling game

She is a raven
he is a saviour
he is a raven
she is his saviour.

Love can save the boy in his heart
but the warrior enjoys solitude
In the dragon’s cave
can he break her curse
and make it worth
her loving her him
and him loving her.

For we all need to love beyond skin
this aching and burning lies within

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.

Smobie smart phone zombie

Smobie smart phone zombie

the microchips are in your head
Capacitors and now your dead
you grasp a screen
Keep it clean
a terrible truth is it was born from your conscious thought
a terrible butterfly caught from a brain stain retaught
you think in video Facebook spies
the bots in your eyes lie
selfies, selfies, psychosis for wealthy
It’s unhealthy
your addiction became your affliction
and now your dead
save for the Facebook thread
life is your profile lives on
On the internet
where brains always find regret
the path is easily met
fuck is decay
Fuck and mind rape is here to stay
have I said enough
it’s tough
Smart phone zombie you are me I am it
sucking in technologies tits
Thumb wank your way into oblivion
you are thumb without a brain
a technological cum stain…

Possessed by her voice

The aching of a voice

a hollowed out choice

to listen

the harrowing of what it says

how it plays out in my head

the reaction makes me hear it more

an un deliberate underscore

the four ways to walk

North south east and west

Even my actions and foot prints talk with her voice

and its tone I hear through the static of like sounding voices

her moan sends shivers down my spine

I hear a different version in the movement of the trees branches

Life dances, and the leaves of the trees say in a Kinetic way I love you

but her voice inside my head says I hate you so much

we hardly ever touched when I knew her

but love is the spur

to touch and talk to her

my Queen, my life,my dream.

In memory of the moon

Like the wolf is drawn to the moon

I saw you

your light, your gloom

eclipsed by the light of the night the moon

The wolf I fed

Bled in the dark

but hunted for light

fought alone for the stars which shine bright

In the night sky.

they couldn’t lie to me all those stars

for its in their truth they shone the way

I breathe you, breathe it in

I believe it with my toothy grin

I am the wolf let me win

the moons glow ripples in the lake

of tears but I can never get to her

but the moon shines on my fur

and I hear a murmur of your voice on the wind

which is long gone and kept within,

memory.

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.