Current Dating Profile

It’s hard to know why I’m here
I’m just sipping a shake or two
Sinking into the leather I guess
I dunno what to say
What is it any of you cats want to know
Do you really care about my morals?
Do you care about the things I carry on my back?

What do you wanna hear?
I’m kind of funny I guess
People like my hair
I look good in photos sometimes
Do you really wanna know?
Wanna know about all my moles?
How my forehead is a spot hot bead
How I look shit from top down or below angle
How my centimetres my nose is above the average
I look shit in a beard and worse with a stache
I look my best when I let my hair fester in grease
People like to tug on the excess fat on my cheeks
Is there anymore you wanna know?
Anymore then your eyes can tell you?

I like to talk about things
I get excited about the things I love
Excited about love
Excited about art
I’m sorry is that to vanilla for you?
How about the boundaries of time I cross all the time
When I get way to excited about my favourite bands
How I hate I have to hide I love my games as much as your shows
How sometimes I look into the glistening night
And I wonder the magnitudes of ways I can fade away
If I’ll leave anything worth while when I go away
If I fuck it all up can my daughter carry on my wills
The daughter that doesn’t exist with my wife who doesn’t exist
Cos I’m to busy talking about all my favourite films
Way after the coffee cools down
And I talk again about how no one really likes to talk anymore

Then I get sad
I think a lot too I spose
How I spent each night alone
How no one accepts
Then, In the same breath
I’ll pledge to the world, how I’ll never compromise
I’ll never stop my talking, talk talk talk about what the fuck I want
Long after everyone’s already told me to shut the fuck up
Talk about life, Talk about death, Talk about anything
To get my heart and ideas somewhere in the world
Cos I’m shit at writing, can’t play any guitar
And I’ll talk about all the things I could if I could
I just want to talk, talk without an end sight
No “Shut up Switzer” No “Oh my god go away”
I’ll never hush to the suffering in my life, not anymore
No matter if the voices will never go away
I need to talk, I need to get excited
What’s the point of life if we can’t express our tongues
Over some cold brews in the glistening sun

And if you agree
I think you should message me

What It Means To Stay Alive [W.I.P]

No one really knows what to say
A long awaited recess from the infirmary
No icey words, she can only jump right in
She says that you made a impact
She speaks it in a uplifting tone
You’ll never see the effects in your life time
It’s not until your rotting in the soil
Will the fruits on your life will ripen
In the lives of those you brushed past
To the lives you’ve created electricity with
As your show comes to a close
May it be now during the darkest skies
Or a time where the earth itself raptures
May it be when your clock stops ticking
Or if you remove the gears yourself
The burden of carrying on your meme’s
Falls on every man and child
Who carrys the things you’ve passed down
While you silently die inside, in the night
All they can see is your legacy
They see the way you cut away your life-lines
The things that gave you magnificent joy
Just to cleanse the ire of another
A thousand years of pain in one go
To make sure they don’t feel even a strain
You’ll die a villain in their eyes
You’ll die a hero in the eyes of those with eyes
She pauses again, hovers palms against your arm
If you’ll always be waiting for the rise
Take comfort in the seeds you’ve planted
You did good…. In the best way

It’s Me [W.I.P]

But it’s just a patriot you paint
I can see the tear stains around the signature
Yes you can emulate success
With a dime a dozen vocation you can call progression
Despite another step not being taken for so long
From this view it’s funny, the way you’d berate the before
I saw the tracks of a tasmanian devil
Smashing through anything that got in her way
But you said you’ll be different now
Things have to change, no more selfishness, no more anger
No scorn, No spite, No venom
No happiness, No satisfaction, No fulfilment
It’s amazing to think you can see it that negatively
But it’s no mystery how you got here
You saw me on my way to accession
Whistling a destructive swan song on the way
You can only see the scars despite the climb
So you see, I know it’s all down to me

2/31

Birthday Poem (for Luke)

I can calculate how long you’ve been here,
in a multitude of ways. It comes out to:
22 years which is 264 months
which is 1144 weeks
which is 8,030 days
which is 192720 hours
which is 693,792,000 seconds.
But maths doesn’t do justice to the impact you’ve made.

The ink you’ve spilled, the words you’ve jotted,
the games you played, the music you gushed over,
the people you’ve loved and hated and been ambivalent towards,
the way your hair grows and curls, the tiny bit of green in your eyes,
your olive skin, big feet, long legs, creased hands and beating heart.
That’s what time is made of.

We’ve only known each other 3 months which,
in maths blind eyes, comes to: 13 weeks
which is 91 days
which is 2191 hours
which is 131,487 minutes
which is 7,884,000 seconds.
But it feels like infinity because what does time know?

The chats we’ve had, the words we’ve performed,
the strides we’ve made, the kisses we’ve shared,
the times we’ve loved and hated the sight of each other,
the way we lay and breathe and think together,
and a thousand other little moments that can’t be measured.
That’s what time is made of.

I can fit the time we’ve spent together into your life
88 times and into mine 72 times.
Maths has never been my strong point
so I’d rather stick to fitting you into my life
rather than puzzling trying to count on my fingers
until I’m all thumbs. We fit together like time flows
and we’ll ride the flow of time until we’ve exhausted
everything; we’ll pack provisions, a life raft and all
our previous experience so we can battle the tide.

I can calculate how long you’ve been here,
in a multitude of ways, but – in the most cliched way –
when it comes to calculating my love and appreciation
that’s mathematics no woman could ever do.

-Francesniff

We Met At The D&D Due

I only popped round from the corner on a whim
What other treats could a Sunday afternoon provide?
The toenail clippings of a week schedule on the T.V
The breadcrumbs stocked in all the super markets
The lost puppies parading around the streets
The doctors have only given me 2 hours left
Before my brain cells shut down and my blood runs thin
For boredom itself has taken me to the other side

But If I must drop all traces of a indifferent facade
I couldn’t help but feel I’d of paid 10x my bus fair
Just to see you give me that look from behind your specifically
From behind the room, then for you to stroll on my way
Just to say hi, and to wean me into the rituals
I couldn’t say I’m green on the subject of table top
But I’ll keep those titbits to myself if you don’t mind
Just to make the joke I’ve only heard of Monopoly before

The moon bursts on the scene and foils my fun yet again
But the next week seems like an entire era’s away
So to tide me till then I offer you a brew in town
You say you have to run back for your nanna’s birthday due
But I’ll get you in front of my gaze yet my dear
Separated only by the coffee shop oak, I make a vow now

And when they ask how we first meet
I’ll tell them we met at the D&D due

*Written For National Poetry Month – 24/30*

Teen Angst Beach Ass Life

So hey, when I’m not working on writing the words and the things I’m usually messing around making mix-tapes, like tons and tons of mix-tapes like… I need a profitable hobby amount of mix-tapes.

I kind of get a bunch of tracks together with a flowing narrative and add A TON of Foley and Sound Effects to help drive the story along, to try and make it a bit more of an experience if you want it to be. I dunno since I’m 100% inspired by music when I write I thought maybe some of you could benefit from it too? Give it a good ol’ play 🙂

This mix-tape is one of the first ones I made (God knows how many ladies have a copy of the first draft of this thing) and it’s about finding romance at the beach, cos I was made to live and die fantasizing about the beach, anyways enjoy!

Teen Angst Beach Ass Life

Combat

Pestilence incarnate cries at her loudest
Captivating the attention of the lucky young males
In droves they come throwing away their free wills for a taste

‘Droves’ being a stretch at best

And of course she’s had the worst pampering of life
Her paper thin troubles will net you a eternity of goose chasing
The Chupacabra you can never catch, the Bigfoot you can never prove was even there

If not a hearbreak in similes
What else is she ‘sposed to post for her followers?

She slams onto to the catwalk
Avert your eyes, cameras, guns, blades away from it
Even wounds feeds it’s insatiable hunger
After all a target needs to be aimed at

But a funny thing happened one morn
A million followers started to thin, picked apart one by one
The icon of a generation started to clear into a symbol of self indulgence

Who could’ve been so cruel?

It was me who picked the flowers in your garden
The one who gave man his tounge and made the blind see again
It’s not hard to bring the starstrucked back to the land of independant thought

The method is private i’m afraid

And to add salt to the wound
I did it with my hands tied behind my back
I hope you think of me when you chronicle your demise to the masses

‘The defective who took down perfection herself’