I’m having the weirdest self imposed dilemma right now, I had a great plan worked out for tonight, I thought maybe when I get home I’m gonna so some exercises, living pretty unhealthy atm and it’ll be good to get some in maybe help improve my mood it’s all good shit

Then on the bloody way home I get some little 14 year old Grime-loving shits give me lip on the way home saying like “Ahhh fucking look at him he’s got tits” and of course as any British man would, I invited him to suck on said tits and flicked him the V’s

But now it’s like well shit if I do exercises now I’ll be playing right into there hands, or maybe it’s reverse psychology where changing my plan at all is playing into there hands, WHICH IS IT? HOW DO I ESCAPE THE TRAP? So I looked up exercise and i’m gonna do them all except any that helps lose fat around the chest area, THAT’LL SHOW THEM. It won’t show them, I’ve spent way to long thinking about this

Never really saw this blog or any of my poems or projects as a part of a brand before. I guess I just do my do and see how do. But I think people gravitate more towards content of any kind if they see someone’s proud enough of it they put their seal and identity into like that? I think I need to take this poetry malark way more seriously, re-launch Domestic as my personal brand. God knows where it could take me

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, HOLY. SHIT. That was one hell of a hiatus, I can only apologize for the gap in content, i’ve been without my own internet for like the past 6 months, getting kicked out, jobs here and there, getting a new place, ect. ect.

But fret not, every things still and i’m once again unemployed so naturally updates can only presume on a hopefully; daily basis. Being devoid of like a personal outlet to the internet in my own time and company is wow and weird, too suddenly have the access and time, feels like a preforming suddenly getting the stage beneath their feet again, it’s a bizarre feeling ladies and gents

– Lnc0

0 – The Fool (W.I.P) [Pre-Domestication]

Like a cup of a half filled luke-warm tea
Left to freeze, at the mercy of a breeze in a picture perfect winters setting
I am slowly losing the properties linked to my overall purpose
But it’s of no fault of a good for nothing tenant
Who’s jolted the mug from it’s coaster in the living room
And relocated behind the curtains of the study
But a day dreaming priss, to meek to shift his glacier stained feet
Left to drink the pisswater that is his cooled down tea

It’s an easy routine to play out on long weekdays
It’s the upbringing, the unemployment
It’s the crippling depression holding the door shut
Metaphorically, theoretically, possibly
As you chuck another Chicago Town box across the room
But parentheticaly, you know none of that turned on the telly
And made you watch that Man Vs Food marathon
But oh, it was such an easy routine to fall back on

Your groans don’t bounce off much in an empty room
Nothing that could recontextualized the vibrations you sent out
Mush up what you insinuated, and lather up what they inferred
And send it back your way on the silver spoon express
Making sure to seal away the output of groans
Catching all the little things you don’t wanna hear on the bib
Until you’re full and numb and empty of any debilitation
The worst way to debilitate yourself in the first place

It’s a comfortable thing to rest on, puffy fluffly reassurance
But the floorboards are far more triumphant
I’m sick of the soft creamy taste of easy living
I miss the salt and the spit running from my face
As I bulldoze my heel into the stage at the cafe
Screeching to rise above the idle chatter,
The shrugs, disinterested looks, the bloodbath for relevancy
The kind of words I rely to you people now

Don’t let the nostalgic dreams of angry teens suede you
The ways I had to remind myself, I was alive where abhorrent
The tightening of the chocker, the fists behind your door
A reminder you could fuck up someone’s day
The dignified exits, parallel to the pining returns
A reminder you where something to objectify
Fuck that, I’m not a tool in anyone’s narrative
I’m something you’re damn near mortified to see lost
I’ll take that notion of shining like the brightest star
And melt all your faces off with all 27 million degrees of it

Now everything is changing
No footholding, No excuses, No handholding
No spare tenner for Pizza Hut
Just 65,825 ways to go about the plains before me
With an extra 154,529 methods of tripping it up
On the concrete, not like the turf from before
I guess I should face it all with a smirk
And get on with it

– Lnc0

An Innocent Enquiry

168 hours feels just like a few minutes
Spent staring at the hieroglyphics on a plastered wall
Laying with the company of plates of unfinished dinners
Tea stains on the bed, sauce stains on my shirts
Seeing the opportunity to cleanse their karma
People came and went and recited lines
From a prepared scripted emulating admiration
That was never there back when the woman took in air

I was still clutching my hands to that old DS
Bruising of the D-Pad etched into my fingers
Still on the same save file as I was that week
I never averted my eyes from the display
I couldn’t bare the images of them carrying you out
To be scarred into my mind every time I look at the stairs
I couldn’t bare the thought of acknowledging this
As the world outside this screen, with the way things are

They wanted me to come back to the world of outside
But what wonders could possibly be out there now?
I hear the moans of the spoilt lobe stretched army
Caressing the creases of a spare 10 pound note
When the anniversaries of their mothers birth rolled around
They don’t know what it is they really have

I hear boring boys prepared to put there lives on the line
All for the vine, for the retweet, for the reblog
They want to make there families feel how I feel now
They don’t know what it is they’re really doing
I hear the cries of distressed souls bleeding from their hearts
Playing roulette with the choice of life or the choice of death
The kinds of choices people have taken out of their cold hands
They don’t know what it is they’re throwing away

Even when you came back to class
We couldn’t help but notice an absence
What happened to the boy we used to know?
Who was this corpse that now carries your name?
We asked why it was you never spoke anymore
We wondered why you weren’t as funny as you used to be
You couldn’t even muster the will to crack a smile
Let alone crack a joke

Only the few of us that had the nerve to gossip knew
While collecting scraps of the article you left behind
Oh we didn’t know what we were saying to you
What could we say to a boy like you?
You carried yourself between the corridors
Like you were being carried by the breeze
Your body may have been alongside us
But I don’t think you were ever really there

As Preformed By Domestic

– Lnc0

Yesterday noon Domestic had it’s first public performance! We begged last minute and got a nice little slot at the Colchester Rise festival at The Minories between 2 poets and preformed well… the only 2 poems I’ve written for the project

But yeah public performance…. writing down them words then saying them words with my partner to people who will then listen to said words; Horrifying. But man it feels good to rip the band-aid off as it were! It’s only going to get the easier to do, the writing’s only going get better and I’m only going to get better at preforming it and jesus christ it’s great to put your foot into this world finally

Overwrite

What a terrifying age we must live in
If your confessions of violations
Doesn’t cause the brow to lift anymore
But instead causes a pre-planned sonnet
Pulled from a recollection of a past romance
I guess it’s just that common these days

You park yourself on the side of my bed
While you indulge in a silent war inside your head
No matter how much you try to reason
Your mind can’t stop reenacting those memories
The choker on your throat, And the claws on your thighs
And your need to recollect still shows
You react to collision with other skin cells
Like dynamite would react to a live wire
But it’s no use, you can’t control your body
Your heart screams out like a megaphone
Calling out for any emulation of affection
So you can go back to a simpler time
Where the act of simple carnal desires
Didn’t open the flood gates to a wave of guilt
To wipe the white board clean
To overwrite the association that you carry

You drag me over you like a bedsheet
Your eyes pleading me to set you free
I lay a trail of breadcrumbs from your neck
With my kisses all down the side of your frame
I feel you start to shiver as I approach your navel
You look down me from behind a lens of apprehension
I abandon my quest and approach you from surface level
I cradled your cranium in the palms of my hands
Planted another kiss on the fringe of your head
And remind you I’ve become subservient to your passion
I’ve renounced my will I’m all yours to command
As you take me back in your arms

It drives me to the point of despair
That the world could treat you like this, so early
I know it sounds like a mammoth of a task right now
But there’s no need for you to fear people
For every dragon that parades the plains
Lays a saint ready to avert your gaze

I want to cradle you tight up to my chest
To deflect all the tragedies of the planet
All your dread, contempt and bile
I’ll take it all in a stride like it was just a favour
I want to explore every single cell that gives you life
And make a mark of my devotion
On every single one
Even if after the events of tonight
You choose to cast me aside
To spring board for the gold medal
The one your golden heart really deserves
I’ll still spend every kilojoule in my blood
To wipe the slate clean
To replace feelings of terror, with hunger
To anticipate his touch on your back
To bring life to your cheeks
To make you feel like those villains
Where just a stone in your shoe

Objectify Me

You put on a cabaret to convince yourself
and your allies that you don’t come for the hunger
And that your heart was always true
you didn’t want to let the boat float away into the ocean
It’s just life tends to get in the way of your 7 day clear schedule
Their was nothing you could do!
Now your belly is full you send me on my way
And put your fingers in your ears and scream

I was never a human to you was I?
The idea of personality and emotion never once came to you
What state I’m left in is of no fucking concern
You strip me in your mind of all human qualities
I’m not a man, I’m not a human I’m just a thing
A thing for you to use and throw away in the trash
I have no name, no face, no life,
I’m just a fucking dick tonight and everything else is useless
My heart carries no love, I’m just your dick,
My mind carries no idea, I’m just your dick
Just your big fucking dick, just your dick,
just your dick, your fucking dick, just a dick

Affection is just a tired concept made by weak individuals
To lead stray lambs to sensual liberation
A dick has no need for affection right?
Companionship is for the weak minded
Who can’t survive without a human crutch isn’t that right?
A dick has no need for a companion
Love is for delusion you trip over the lives of other people
Because they can’t sustain their own
A dick has no need for love right?
As long as you get yours who fucking cares right?
I’m nothing, I’m no one, I’m just your thing

JUSTADICKAFUCKINGDICKJUSTABIGDICKIMNOTHINGBUTADICKJUSTADICKNOHOPENOFUTUREJUSTYOURFUCKINGDICKNOFEELINGSNOLIFEJUSTYOURFUCKINGDICKBIGDICKFUCKINGDICKDICKDICKCDIKDKCICIKICJJIOEHC423G4Y34553YH34YG4UJ80G9JB MN

Just Four Words

I feel like anything I’ve claimed to have cherished
Is slowly sieving through my fingers like sand
Their’s no place to call my home
Their’s no person to call my own
Laying on a loaned mattress in a loaned domain
I feel like the batteries aren’t included now more then ever
I have no idea what was going through my mind
When I picked up the only thing keeping our door ajar
And against any intelligent thinking
Send you a message of just four words

Just four little words to let you know
You still come into my thoughts every now and then

What a massage to a broken ego our time was
In the company of those who would call me worthless
You let me know my words captivated your heart
In the company of those who would call me incapable
You made me feel like I could be a real man
In the company of those who would call me detestable
You grabbed me from the public eye so I could be all yours
Just four words to tell you how much that meant to me

Just four little words to let you know
How much I could use your company right now

When you get my little fortune in your cookie
What exactly will happen?
Will you drop the ban you’ve placed on yourself
And get the first method of transport to my house
Knock on the door exactly three times
And lay your arms around me in an embrace
Tell me you never meant anything by it
And that you want to make up for lost time

But probably not
And the guarantee we’ll never cross paths ever again
Will only grow stronger like a gaping chasm
Now I’ve sent you those four little words

Just four little words to let you know
I’m still thinking about you
Just four little words
I really miss you

*Written For National Poetry Month – 27/30*

Failed Integration

Dear diary, it happened again
Society has shown me the back of it’s hand
And all I tried to do was coexist
Dear diary, it happened again
Society has spat on my brand new shoes
And all I tried to do was understand it

I tried to let my guard down again today
Attempting to slowly peel away
The years of perfecting the perfect persona
But like a moth to flame I never learn
I have no idea what it is I did
Now they’ve illuminated me with their bright red glares
It’s time to slink back away to the drawing board
And stitch together a new persona all over again

Do you see the bloody towels?
And the birthday gifts gathering dust?
That’s what’s left of your last attempt
To integrating with the everyfolk
An animal can only learn to mimic human mannerisms
No matter how convincing the mask and the dance
They can see right through you like jelly
The closer you get the harsher the kickback

Dear diary, it happened again
Society has shown me the back of it’s hand
And all I tried to do was not get in the way
Dear diary, it happened again
Society has spat on my brand new shoes
And all I tried to do was ask why it had to be this way

I’m all out of fight, I submit to your will
Just tell me what it is you want me to do
I’ll sit gag, bound and tied up by the hands
And you can pick me up by the strings
And make me act like everyone else
The type of person people are glad to see
A version of me that wasn’t born in this defective way
Maybe it’ll make them happy
Maybe it’ll make me happy…

*Written For National Poetry Month – 22/30*