A Sample Of Gritt

Oh mercy me what have I done?
I didn’t mean to turn this resort into a smouldering carter
I just wanted to have a little bit of fun
With another ‘God-Knows-Who’

Good little boys raised to be Angelic young men
Are always on the look out for taint among the diamonds
Your breath stinks of fags
And your parka reeks of weed
Take them blood stained hands
And cover these white skinnies with your pawprints
I need proof that for a night I had your validation
And I’ll carve my signature into your insides

The second lap of the Rollercoster comes to a close
And they shove me out into the following week
With lipstick still on collar
And a mark on my collarbone
It’s been 3 hours since then
And I still smell your perspiration on my top lip
I lay slumped in the back of my desk chair
You’ve saved me from all thought and emotion
I can’t think like this, and I can’t write like this
This must be how the addicts feel

It doesn’t matter how bad this way of living is for me
The scars and deformities it must leave on my mind
Just for a moment, just for an hour everything in the world
Just feels nice, if just for that moment

*Written For National Poetry Month – 23/30*

It Ain’t Easy Being Sleezey

Oh now don’t be like that my love
You don’t have to let me down with a face like that
I know that you’ve heard my echoes
Bounce off the walls of your social circle
And like a Kitten curious about it’s new home
You wandered what could’ve made your friends
Make such haunting noises into the night
You just wanted to get your hands dirty
You just wanted to feel the same things pass through your body
In the middle of a blank diary limbo
I think anyone would’ve done the same

Come now don’t be like that my dear
You don’t have to leave with your stomach lurched like that
It’s a challenge to get any rush out of life these days
Faced with a plethora of roads
And no single idea what direction to take
Just a couple of nights to feel like a god
Like you have complete control of your life for once
Trust me I understand the appeal
And while I might be on a hunt for a queen
Who’s to say I couldn’t caress an ego or to on the way?

*Written For National Poetry Month – 20/30*

Always a (Nothing) Never a (Something)

I think that’s one litre too far
Of the infamous magical potion
Housed in the caves of the Spar
In exchange for credits I don’t have
Oh magical fluids grant me strength
To ignore anxieties and mistrust
She’ll be hanging around tonight
A beacon to my bug eyes
She was round here yesterday
Pillaging my passions
Placed her vicegrip on my throat
Conducted Electricity
With the iLoins charged
She’s off and out the door
Was I due a message in a bottle?
I don’t think I quite know anymore

Always a Tic Tac
Never the Sunday roast

From cute smiles
To vacant stares
From Admiration
To Deconstruction
From holding my hand
To shoving me away
From laughing at my jokes
To laughing in my face

Always a Little Chef
Never the Harvester

Last night; took me round the bend
Just to avoid association
She treats me like a joint
Smoke it before the teachers come
Now tonight; hides herself at the bend
Just to avoid conversation
She treats me like a mother
Don’t embarrass while she’s with her mates

Always the grab of the shaft in the car park
Never the drunken fuck in a hotel suite

They never cared
They’ll never care
It’s always like this
It’ll never be like that
They never cared
They’ll never care
It’s always like this
It’ll never be like that

*Written For National Poetry Month – 19/30*

If That’s How You Feel

I can’t say it doesn’t hurt
When it dawns on me I’m not the first thought of the day anymore
I can feel the stress of a stress relief weighing you down
As the distance between us only grows
Even when at arm’s length from each other
When you consider; locking fingers through suburban shortcuts
In competition to scrapbook filling crawls through the neon
It doesn’t take a philosopher to propose the theory
That your eyes don’t illuminate the dance floor
When you get a little love note form me, not anymore

If that’s the way you feel
Then hey that’s how you feel
I can’t change the way you feel
There’s nothing I can do about how you feel

I’d hate to start playing the blame game, as a way to cushion the blow
I don’t wanna call you a liar or that say you were untrue
But I’ll say you had to be exaggerating just a tad
I know it’s easy to carried away with a fresh out the box muse
To liken lazy days, tying our limbs together like shoelace knots
To the celestial phenomenon that blesses our skies every millennium
I bet you thought I was just getting carried away
I only wish that were true and that I didn’t mean every word

But hey if that’s the way you feel
Then that’s just how you feel
I can’t change the way you feel
There’s nothing I can do about how you feel

I bet even if the circumstances changed
And a blossom of blanks paraded your cache
You still wouldn’t feel a thing for me
That’s just the way they all feel

*For National Poetry Month – 1/30*

Pull You Closer To My Heart

My appetite is swelling to gargantuan proportions
As I keep my gaze deadlocked on the clouds passing through the skies
Each second the clock strikes, feels like a little victory
I’m a caged leviathan ready to feel the sand on my belly again

It feels like a silly to infer
When you’re raised from a bud with the ideals of the city
But I never feel like I’m really alive, if I’m not surrounded
By these Mediterranean concepts sugar coated by rural gumdrops
These come in form of makeshift cafes, funded by a failed college fund
and neon clad penny munchers ready resurrect a dying youth
It’s clear I was made to act out my golden days here
I was born to live and die fantasising about the beach

There’d be no shame in indulging in this fantasy idealism
Of interpreting the coastal slums and rotting back alleyways
Into sun kissed pathways of golden bricks and Dali graffiti tags
As a solo exhibition, but I could use a witness
I hope they unlock the collar from your neck
I hope your mind is prepared for the barrage of eyes
I know you’re not always free to frolic when the landing lights blaze
I just want to cement your presence in my dream days

I can show you the soiled patios down the side of the corner shop
Where decade old fossils of fictitious duels of cardboard knights
And invisible dragons took place all I like
But you’ll never get any closer to origins of my ecstasy
Then on a windy noon in the middle of spring
Just past the claw’s and the Ice Cream vendors

I Can’t Feel Anymore (Mostly With My Hands)

The cautious optimisms out the door by bomb 3
The realistic expectations pack it in on pint 2
The fear got a taxi home when I Introduced the woo’s
Cos these last 2 months I’ve had
There’s enough material seeped into their days
To pitch 7 movie plots to Hollywood
I don’t wanna let on that I sound desperate
But someone needs to hit the reset button: Fast
So point out which cocktails your ignorant too
We can take the plunge together

And the Subtly dies with the ‘Cherry Bomb’ special

Oh what’s her face’s best mate
Just tell me what I have to do
If there’s anything I can do
I’m so bored give me something to do
There’s something I really need to do

Maybe it’s slow release poison you’ve fed me with
Cleverly named after an old kids television show
But what I’m about to say sounds pretty tragic
I just can’t feel anything anymore
The grab of the wrist and flick of the hair
Doesn’t guarantee anything anymore
All it takes is a bat of the lid
From the next every man clad in this weeks brand
And your out of the door
What? ….No of course not, I brought that drink for you!

And the wit and charm dies after the White Russians

Oh my friends, ex’s mates classmate
Just tell me what I have to do
If there’s anything I can do
I’m so bored give me something to do
There’s something I really need to do

The outsiders and misfits are shunned in this environment
I won’t tell you to grab your coat
I’ll save the poetry for the pillows
So now i’m slumped outside V-bar once again
Pushing the fat on my cheeks, over my eyes
Just give me a sec, a few slaps to the face
And I’ll run back for round 2
If I sit around any longer they’re gonna recognize me
The slumped toupee, you can catch him around 20 past 1
Dry as a bone and alone

And the hope dies after the glass of tap water

Oh my cousins, friends, postman’s, daughters, teachers, half-brothers, gym teachers, dog walkers, sisters, hairdressers, ex-husbands, mistresess, plumbers, best man’s, step-daughters, BFF
Stop fucking around and tell me what I have to do
To spend a night with you
Just something to get me through