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*

No You’re Right, Danny’s Just Moaning

To tell you the truth romance is just the easiest route
So that Danny can feed his hysteria the diet it needs
The voices that used to guide him have gone mute
He’s a scared little boy lost in London
Under the cover of darkness, eyes blindfolded
As the tarmac behind him starts to collapse
You better chart your own course Danny
Straighten up and fly right on pure guess work

Danny’s like a dog looking into the restaurant
Seeing Natasha and Benni share a vodka and coke
Danny starts to feel a twinge In his chest
Angus tells him to stop moaning and man up
Danny hears Terry complain about Mothers Day
Kerry runs off to V Bar without saying goodbye
Danny just wants someone to talk too
Johnny rings his dad from the pavement for a lift back

You see all Danny wants someone to come up from behind
Lock their fingers around his chest from behind
And to tell him that there’s no need to fear the silence
To tell him everything’s fine like a good mummy should
To tell him that they’re proud like a good daddy should
Henry just wants a bitch to suck him off
Henry sneaks out back, but he won’t be alone

Oh Danny would love to see if they could cope any better:
If they couldn’t ask mummy to raise that ego
If they couldn’t ask daddy to close the wound
And their cries left unanswered as the bounce of the walls

Danny wonders out into fields of green
Clutching his last can of Stella
Danny collapses outside his mothers grave
Before he drifts into another world
He quietly utters the following words:
“Where’s my mummy tonight?
I just want to hold her tight”
and with that Danny eyes start to close

*Written For National Poetry Month 15/30*

Recollection (Prelude)

I’ve known guilt and then I’ve KNOWN guilt
But I couldn’t even begin to put the term into human tongue
When you tap my back, in the middle of 90’s britpop chants
And you greet me holding a gargantuan tome
Containing your photographic memory
Try as you might to rekindle a recollection within me
As you recall the times we strolled down your road arm in arm
I hate to break your heart twice over but it only brings static

I couldn’t say I have the foggiest
I don’t remember being enamoured with your frame before
Walking down abandoned docks, eating white chocolate magnums
Was that with you? With the blue bow and dolly shoes?
I can’t think of a face nor a name
Did we kiss by Dr.Chippys? Did we make love after the fireworks show?
Did you ever lie to me that Ollie Sykes could sing, by the river?
My pockets are overflowing with snapshots, but nothing to connect them

I’ll just have to take your word for it
Guide me with your palms and make me recall

*Written For National Poetry Month – 11/30*

Can A Life Be Well Lived?

Deep within the recesses of tonight’s summer dream I say
“Don’t looks some glum honey it’s better this way”
As you clutch your cyan tinted suitcase
While boarding the 7:12 to London Liverpool Street
My absence in your life in but a small price to pay
To ensure you can touch the stars you lust for at night

Yet in reality: I see girls discarding away dreams and ideas
Like a pile of first drafts overflowing from a bin
All because of that funny look their boy gives them
When they dare try to make a move in his presence
That may kick him of the top dollar spot on the throne
To die so submissively it breaks my heart

And yet even in a world where I can have anything
I’ll still let you go to makes sure you can have everything

And yet when I awake at the rise of tomorrows sun
I’ll be having breakfast alone again

I don’t think a life can be well lived
At least unless lived on your own

*Written For National Poetry Month – 10/30*

Our Activity

The clock strikes around 40 minutes past 4
And so comes to end another shift as the canvas
For comrades to project their insecurities onto
Being born with a flawed blueprint, it’s the perfect excuse
Oh lucky me I’m to be greeted with an offering of h2o
Delivered from the heavens above personally

I know it sounds surreal, but their was something sweet
About being greeted with the biggest smile
Clutching your brand new set for handcuffs
It brings me right back from the soaked walk home
Shall we play cops and robbers for tonight?
Get the toppings and play DIY chef in the kitchen?
Put on the body suits and go a round of play fighting?
Or take a trip to the green in just your skirt?

I was never good to expressing myself with words
I can’t think of sentence that begins to describe
How good it feels to have a life in my life
Who can forgo all sense of verbal communication
No misunderstandings, No excess of words
Any reassurance for your daily allowance
You got in excess from our bodyflow
The only time I’m understood

And now I’m stationary in my room
Gathering moss on my flesh
Even if their words were never true
And they were planning a getaway
For the next day
Just a night to partake in our little activity

*Written For National Poetry Month – 7/30*

An Invalid Opinion

I dunno what lines the other boys fed to you
For you to look at yourself like that
Through the lens of fairground house of mirrors
With a snapshot of devastation on your face
Are you deluded? Or maybe just stupid?
Cos only the incompetent could ever react that way

Oh honey don’t you lower that head of yours
I’ll make you see what a work of art you are
Dry your eyes and show me that little smirk again
You say they never loved you when your down
When the planets just couldn’t align
Never let those nasty words taint the mirrors feedback

Even though we’ve already explored our forms head to toe
The thought of seeing you in the flesh
Gets me vibrating on the 66 bus seats
Like a jackhammer left in the cement mixer
You must be suffering from cataracts
Or maybe a blow to the head, to meet me under the sheets
But while I have you, I’ll do the only thing I know how
I’ll take you to levels the other couldn’t, I’ll break you in early

Oh honey don’t cover them eyes of yours
I’ll make you see what a work of art you are
Show me them zircons and shoot me little smirk again
You see they never loved me when I was down
When the moods just couldn’t sync
I’ll never let their nasty actions dull my excitement for you

*For National Poetry Month – 4/30*

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*

And If She Doesn’t Come Back Around… (W.I.P)

It feels like i’ve been playing tiddly winks with my time
Throwing away days and days into a discarded lunchbox
Like a schoolchild killing time, bobbing at the edge of their seat
As the clock flirts with the idea of striking quarter past 3
Just waiting for that rumoured telegram from your end
To signify your return to our beloved rock
Ideas of dipping our feet in the riverbed
While gorging on pre-planned ham sandwiches
Parade my mind like everyday’s a new Mardi Gras
Made to heighten the anticipation of tasting your mouth

Oh gem stoned eyed lady, I understand the confusion
But don’t let my solitude deceive you now
I’m less a wolf on patrol at the park gates, waiting to be fed
I’m more akin to an aktia, waiting for its master on the porch
I can see you position your hands on the bar
With the precision of an open heart surgeon
Like rooks on a chessboard, ready to claim the king
But I feel I must remind, I’m loyal to my queen
Ready to get down on my knees the very moment
That she decides to grace the streets again

But this time next week, if you see me alley bound
Like a lost pup left out in the pouring rain
Lacking the usual collar, now with no one to call my own
You’re welcome to give me shelter
Take me in your arms and take me home
And while you’re at it, take away all the grief
That comes with being abandoned on the doorstep
It takes a heart of pure gold to take in a mutt like me

Oh emerald gazed woman, I’d of tried to make you smile earlier
But I could never betray her, who showed me silver lined mornings
In a sea of gray tainted days, I could never break the heart
Of a saint who never asked for it, but in light of these events
An empty inbox, and a reservoir of unspent affection
Maybe I’ll take you up on that drink

How mental I’d post that last poem for a billion years ago and yet it still applies to my night out tonight, for fucks sake I am a state

CCOOUUPPLLEESS EENNNVVVYYYYY

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