The ghost child of the man in the asylum

In side the beaten white walls of an mental institution

where people go to be uprooted from their delusions

Sat a man his hand outstretched as if holding hands with the dark

No spark to light his way, only the tragic marks his way

he used to play childish games by himself

look they say where is his mental health?

has it left him altogether why does his play childish games

he would call a name on the wind

for the child he lost unbeknown to them

Tilly or Matilda the ghost of a child of six

who he held in his arms before he was sick

she swallowed her tongue in an epileptic fit

but before then were eye spy and guessing games

before then were pin the tale on the donkey and blind mans buff

I guess we are all in a way sheltering memories like ghosts

In the places in the heart we hide

which we can never move away from no matter how we stride

or how many steps we take

life is sometimes an evil fate.

To die at sixteen

All your dreams never started

dearly departed

That’s how I felt

Kneeling on a hospital floor praying to you

to save my life

you are my goddess of wisdom

my teeth going rotten

like the dreams I had as a child

it’s heart wrenching

my parents said my psychosis

was a bereavement

the life intended, lost

I had to be mended there would be a cost

goddess of the universe, girl with many faces

I have been through a war with myself

but my mental health

is the thing I can never get back

but sometimes their are cracks of light through the wall

I know the goddess understands us all.

Clown huntress

The circus mirrors gives her the shivers

Her lips begin to quiver

She hates clowns

and her frown

turns into bestial snarl.

her cheeks flash red

all she can think of is blood instead

and meat

Which she wants to eat

as her hairs stand on end

and are caught by electric instincts

her teeth become sharp and canine

and eyes shine an unnatural shade

as her body begins to rearrange

her spine tingles

her coccyx sprouting out of behind

A now wagging tail

Her feet bursting through her dainty shoes

her arms begin to flail

she is in shock but somehow it feels right

those clowns will get it

they will not live to regret it

growling at the mirror at her reflection

her skirt tearing at the seams

full moon screams turning into growls

then a howl

As her body is exposed

this is what the crystal ball

and fortune teller said

“when the moon becomes blood red

you will see what you are in the distorted mirrors and be fed”

As she smashes the mirror

drool dripping from her tongue and teeth

the werewolf released

from her human cage

to rage against those foolish clowns.

Authors of the great myth

Given the gift

of sight

we fight and wrestle

nestling

in escapism

but it’s a prison.

she is out there

Sophia the goddess of wisdom

she spoke to me when I was 7

now I am nearly 37

I hear her voice

like yin and yang

Speaking her words to me

Am I just hearing things?

Is my mind just broken and in a sling?

Or am I just another author with a gift?

Politicians

Card board cut out of humans

would you choose them?

they deny, won’t answer the questions why

because fake news and lies

are easier than

telling us, we fucked up man!

all across the lands

they cling to power

while the environment goes sour

and pollution paves the way

for all our graves

and science to them doesn’t mean a thing

because they are dreaming of fat salaries

from corporations

and tax breaks for themselves

shopping carts and working class elves

we are broken when we can’t tell the truth

they hide behind a smoke screen aloof

but we should get the children asking the questions

because it’s their world not these clandestine people

who yearn for power and are evil.

All we needed was love

You ask the devil why she can’t save the world

the silence is wounding.

It betrays

slays the meaning,

driven home.

Is god into much of a coma

to answer from his throne?

Alexandria defender of man

The woman who said she was the devil

Who won’t reveal her pain

Only the scars on her wrist

All you needed to save the world was love

Like the scars told me.

The villain

The villain

I am so nasty

people stand aghast

I am so bad

you feel a draft

on a summers day

murderous glances pave the way

I am sick, I am ill

babe with every hero it’s a battle of wills

I am so abrasive

I am like invasive surgery

I am so evil I burn bibles and call it purgatory

the devil herself could learn from me

I want pounds of flesh so burn with me

I am deathly shade

stalking the sun

I am the nightmare

in the night you run

I am evil

I told you to die

but chances are you’re petrified

I am so dishevelled

I make Darth Sidious look sprightly

Sith Lords can’t fight me

With just one flick of my fingers

and death lingers

I am psychologically deranged

so psychopathically strange

you wondered if I was ever sane

I just got back from Frankenstein’s lab

I killed the hulk yes I am that strong and bad

I framed Sherlock Holmes

and made him into an heroin addict

cause all my plays our that strategic

I even cheat death

in fact I own Azrael’s blade

I am villain, the one you crave.