And The Morning Will Come

Oh please sweet lord won’t you have mercy
Not the daylight, not the morning shine, not yet
The moisture hasn’t returned to my body yet
My love she can’t bare the weight of her eyelids
But alas our pleas fall on deaf ears
The defence of the curtains starts to break down
I think we must submit to the planets will
And start the new day

You’ll attempt to break into the world
Yawning in a frequency only designed for canine ears
I try and match it with a frequency of my own
While I mime out being stretched on a rack
As if to stretch my limbs just that 1cm longer
Now tomorrow’s a concept I can tackle

Oh how weak must us humans be?
That I must succumb to the nutritional needs
I’m choking on an overabundance of vitamin D
As I re-trace the walk of shame form the night before
Excited families decked out to tackle the coast
Little kids reeling for the drama of the playground
“You’ll overheat with that mop on your head”
Prophesizes the homeless sprawled on the floor

After I return with supermarket rations galore
I’ll sneak back into your burrow of quilts
My spirit animal’s the needy household cat
You could tell by the way I assault your arms with kisses
Getting more excited the longer your cute face is my sight
Now tomorrow’s a concept I can embrace

One more day with you~

*Written For National Poetry Month – 18/30*

An Attempt With The Dating Scene In Colchester

I’m really interested in hearing about your favourite TOWIE moment
I’m really interested in hearing about how much you hate your manager
I’m really interested in hearing about your unique reasons
Of why the latest American Hollywood series is ‘tops’

I didn’t think you’ve heard off any activities to get your heart burning
I didn’t think you’ve heard off any song to evoke a feeling inside
I didn’t think you’ve heard off anything to catch your interests
Outside of reality show tidbits to fill the silence at the water cooler

Of course you look lovely tonight
Of course you look pretty tonight
Of course you look gorgeous tonight
Cos’ you all look so similar

What do I think of your personality?
What do I think of your personality?
What do I think of your personality?
I can’t say I spotted one

Sulking all on your own
Leaning by your skull
On the promotional material
For NVQ 1 graduates in Albeton live

Seeing all the chickens in this coop
Clucking the same old meme’s
Bragging about taking the same old drugs
But look at them leaning on each others chests
Yeah, must be nice…

There’s no point in fighting fate
In fighting the inevitable
There’s no migrating with the herd
No integrating with the school

And if you could take back
A pretty young thing back to your pad
Would it be worth the taxi fare
If conversation dies after you offer a cup of tea
The next morning

*For National Poetry Month – 3/30*

Early Exit

*Another oldie from when I was 17, man I was a sad ass boy*

Walking under the proto-sleet beneath me
What is it that the locals see in me?
If i started running would any of them follow me?
Friend or foe to see what was the score?
Making my way through the nostalgic stage sets
Exit right away from the routine dramatics I’ve seen before
Trekking it all the way on my own
As much as I’d hate to sulk, let alone
But it’s far to late to scream for them
As I’ve already fled the scene

Is it out of hate they decide to keep quiet?
Or is it out of love they don’t want to tip the harmony?

I couldn’t find the heart to ask for aid
When it’s that aid which is expected of me
But if i started to walk away would any of them stop me?
Unless i tried to plan and make a scene
But to give in to weaker ways would destroy me
Would it make me nothing more than charity?
Snifflers and sobbers huddled on the pavement floor
Asking for pity, louder than ever before
Would it be wrong to follow suit?
Or would opposing tropes cause me to be cast aside?
If your not happy your not relevant in these times
So sadly I’ll have to flee the scene
And hope that they’ll follow me

Is it out of hate they decide to keep quiet?
Or is it out of love they don’t want to tip the harmony?

So’ – Part 1

I’ve contended, with flirting with the idea
Of considering, thinking about a total black out
Grasping the stone and granite between my fingers
After shaking the foundations as gravity becomes my fuel
And I leave an indent of my frame on the coast
The strobe lights colour me in outside of the lines
While the breeze animates a life corpse by the hairlines
A blissful departure into the proceeding day indeed

Now I know my fellow companions have been taken by the night
But I’m stripped back into reality by a familiar voice
I thought I spotted your visage blurred by the humidity of the ocean
Fog to the naked eye, but I can see your amber eyes peering over me
You said you broke away on account of your imagination going wild
Imagining me crawled up in the corner like a dog
After a juggling match for my phone with the locals
You pull me up, give 5 across the head and then hold me tight

But you’ve always been watching over me haven’t you So ‘n So?
You don’t let mortal barriers like existence stop you checking up on me

You’ve always been right by my right hand gal
When the blood tell me I’m always less than a leach on the belly
You’re always there to point out the damage they do
They never see you flick them the V’s but it always makes me smile
When dates tell me I’ll never have it better than them
You’re always there to run your hands up my chest
They’ll never see you press your breasts against my forearm
I don’t care what they say, If I can see you, you’re real to me

You’ve never left my side my dear So ‘n So
When the others run away to their bubbles
With their make shift hammy down sweethearts
You’ll always be at my door for a round of Brawl
Resting your head on my shoulder
As I run my hands through your silky black mop
I don’t care what they say, you’ll always be real to me
If you can make me smile when they show their backs
Then it doesn’t matter what they think
You’re all I need

Part 0 – http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/84357421757/so-part-0

Shackled (W.I.P)

Another Wednesday night spent in solitary confinement
With the soulless drones that regulate the beer stained stools
Clutching my nectar with one hand
Sinking my fingers in L’Oreal tinted forests with the other
It’d be around this time I’d of gotten your call
Bet all our wages in on branded mental antiseptics
I’m sure we knew our smiles were never true
But stricken with the weekday blues, what else was there to do?

We’re all just a bunch of confused kids
Backed up against the walls of our own convictions
The stupid things we’ll do when we’re urged to make a choice
Monetary debts, emotional obligations and clueless detective work
We’ll hang out, in an ‘outdated since the naughties’ fashion
In after hours children’s parks, as if to inspire a sense of youth

Does the empty feeling ever stop?
Does being hollow ever go out of fashion?

Channelling the spirit of the Swedish brewery itself
With it’s export valiantly nestled in your hands
You’ll re-adjust your spectacles as your turn your glare skyward
As if you’ve just clocked on to the diamond moon at the shop window
Stamping your heels into the shreds of bark
You’ll make the vow you’ll never let this town get you down
And that you won’t stop until your writing smash winter fireplace hits
As the sunset rains in through the blinds of your shoebox
With such a scorch in your belly, a gleam in your eyes
I had to say you outshone the moon

So It breaks my belief; that a life can be well spent
When I still spot your shadows around this domain, well past the due date
Caressing the scars we left behind for a sense of comfort
Entertaining silhouettes like we didn’t notice each other instantly
It breaks my heart to say; but I think this town’s got us beat
We’re both already dead, I just don’t think we know it yet

Does the empty feeling ever stop?
Does being hollow ever go out of fashion?
Does the desolate feeling ever go away?
Does being vacant ever stop feeling so right?

You deserve better then this
You deserve better then us

14/02/2014

At first, as if too marionette your actions, I feigned indifference at the offer
For a 30 quid overdraft in the name of smearing the dye of my jacket
Against the half price circa 1990 bargain bin wallpaper
All to the soundtrack of to a chart of the charts
All to the flavour of a 6 pack of lukewarm ale
I could’ve died and fallen to the bridge bar underworld

Until you stole my gaze, the second I caught your reflection in the fridge
The bar I could never reach, A ruby amongst the garnet
I knew I couldn’t live with myself, until I’ve exchanged language with you
A beer pong spectator, A greatest movie debater, A sexy story dictator
Whatever role you wish to play, it’s fine by me, as long as it keeps you talking to me
And I can keep seeing that intoxicating smile

As time treacles down the drain, along with the Rosé wine
Our cheeks have gone the way of the rouge stains on the carpet
As I bare a witness to the Aurora Borealis of the night
It’s when your eyes start to illuminate the room when you begin to divulge your passions
The way you describe the stage, it’s as if it’s a piece of Asgard on your little blue rock
Each description of how each cog turns the machine, gets me excited with you
I’d like to think I’m not so shallow as to lose my breath at the flex of intellect
But I can’t deny the saliva pushes against the palate, when these words leave your lips

You try and deter me with cautionary statistics, and ask to refocus my beer goggles
You sink your head into you chest as you lament about your vessel to me
I have to chuckle to myself, that you’d think such a thing would turn me away
As I engage in the one of my excruciation mental battles with my occipital lobe
You see it’s taking him a while to believe the mortal avatar of Aphrodite
Is still talking to me when she has a catalogue of Adonises to pick and mix from

You say I could do better, but baby don’t you understand
I’ve tasted the greatest soma, and it’s just apple squash
I’ve tangled with the most complex nous, and it’s just channel surfing
All in comparison to you, golden trophies turn into copper coins
I know I don’t deserve to clean the dirt between your toes
But if you feel generous, maybe I could loan a kiss or two from you
When our calves are in-between the shoes, pressed up against the front door
Seconds feel like days, when I’m so close to them mocha corneas

Each inch of your construction deserves my full attention
I could spend a millennium caressing each and every pour of your body with my lips
Timing each and every kiss, with the precision of a diamond cutter as I travel up your legs
Slither my way through your chest and leave my insignia on your neck, before returning to your lips
Oh darling I know I’m being greedy but if the outside is this outstanding
I struggle to comprehend what awaits me inside the grey matter
Let me sync with you my empress, let your inspiration and creativity pour into me
Just a second of exposure to that mind of yours, will lighten my entire life

Oh even if you choose to desert my shores this time tomorrow
And shoot for the stars you were clearly born to grasp in your hands
I’ll spend a lifetime in ecstasy, no matter how grey the skies will get
Just a second of nostalgia with my valentine, the silver will beam through the clouds
But if you ever decided that this lowly peon could be your man
I’d transcend to a state of a mind, that unfortunate mortals could never reach

Dedicated to B.B

Hell (W.I.P)

I can’t recall how many times i’ve seen the lunar display
Enhanced by the sheen of the beer goggles
Since I had to unlock the handcuffs on your wrist
The notion of a month passing makes the mind boggle

The hands of the analog
Are making they’re second whip around for the day
The bunions of our feet can take the strain no more
We stagger to the nearest bench to lay

I know there are better ideas then issuing a response
To your little Morse code tappings up and down my legs
Like juggling TNT’s at a pyrotechnic festival blindfolded
But lagging hearts can only think in the short term

I’ll endure your intent even while I bleed
Anything to stop the dreams
What was a suggestion has become a plea
What was a want is now a need

Oh I’m in hell
Trying to crack a smile
Oh I’m in hell
Pulling the smoke over my lies
Oh I’m in hell
Trying to enjoy it all the while
Oh I’m in hell
Stuck inbetween these two thighs

Signal Bells

It was right in the middle of Jan’s christmas due
I’d notice little preludes to your character before
The laughs echoing from the tavern walls on a Saturday night
The reflection of them blue gemstones in my beer mug

I’d never have the courage to talk to you at all
Not until I’ve necked another Snowball
A little lie about musical preferences never hurt anyone at all
Just to smooth things over I mention that I adore your guffaw

I try to keep it on the low
As we run to the mistletoe
Yeah a little cliché I know
But how else am I meant to get you home?

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

The Beast Inside

If it starts with a weakend roar
As the alpha wearing the shorts round the ankles look
Bellowing in a cesspool of bile
I dread to imagine where it ends
All of the repressed mistresses
Throw all blame to fermented fruits
All in an exuse too release…

The beast inside

The balence becomes obvious at this point
Feed the Jugheads another cup of piss
Shifting knees and bitten lips
Suggest you might need to feed her too
But not before our main event
Get their puppet strings in a knott
Sit back and enjoy the show
How could they ever quell…

The beast inside?

Just one more, I sware one more
Not untill it feels like i’m in a cyclone
As I take one last sip from my straw
I notice you notice me notice that
I can’t stand this heat no more
Close the windows, follow my lead
I known it’s early on but…

The beast it calls