Gum (W.I.P)

You anticipate it for ours on end
But before you know, it’s devoid of all flavour
Honey I’m your chewing gum
You report back to the colon
The way you would with a Tesco bacon roll
Honey I’m just your top up lunch

Smashing your feet on the front seat
Wearing down the seat belt
Your just a kid on her way to Space Mountain
But when your toosh is of the seat
The Blitz starts to drain away
Sorry Lil Sal, you’ve booked yourself a Haven Holidays

That’s the same look I think you’d have
As hour 4 passes us by
You’ve got the gates to the appsphere on deadlock
In case a microbe of joy might slip you by
“I’d be easier if” “It’d be more convenient”
The cage that binds us all
Nights of passion, Nights of perspiration
Met with a flat tone

Spent too long on your tongue
Gotta spit it out
Honey I’m your Juiceless Steak
Not a morsel of flavour
Taken for the image
Honey I’m your chewing gum

– Lnc0

VI – The Lovers

It would’ve been so easy y’know?
The oak was in clear sight at the cross roads, my number 12
By this point I could’ve had ‘em pecking seeds out of my palms
My sense of fulfilment appropriately enough: full and my purpose clear
Kick my heels up at the mounts resort and await 13 to take it away
But to think what I’d lose in the process…

I’d miss all the time you’ve called me a two-bit cunt
As the red shell connects with peaches rear wheels

I’d miss all the intense colliding of bunions
As traumatic as the plates beneath California
As we feast on peanut butter sandwiches and milkshake in the park

I’d miss the times your nashers have sunk into my arm
As I trace the lights shine around your Jugulum
During the closer of a drunken summer festival

I’d miss the surge of the heat as we project;
An impressive form of shadow play on the tent walls
For any music lovers passing by to see
Accompanied by the sounds of J.T echoing from the main stage

I’d miss the ways that your eyes dilate as I outline;
My predictions for the ends of this Journey
Eye that believe I can and wants to bare witness

I’d miss wiping away your tears from my shirt
As we collectively take the strike to our emotions
By a scenario writers attempt on our brazen personae

There isn’t a prize, a title, salary, career
An inflated sense of fulfilment, ego or self esteem
That could be worth your absence
Anything worth doing is worth doing
With you illuminating the view, my number 6

– Lnc0

Dedicated to Esme

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

Only The Obsolete Clutch

The news cut through the deepest part of me
Nights and nights spend hand in hand amidst the clean slate
Putting together our little plans and steps to glory
Reduced to plastic knifes struck in the dragons knees, in one sentence
Oh baby I couldn’t imagine spending my time without you
Buying bread knowing I’m not making you toast just seems pointless
While you rise to the next league in human evolution in another land
Looking at me in my second hand leather jacket fiddling with the pennies
Night after night you’ll forget our curbside midsummer debates
Putting the world to rights, and etching my heart in blood on the concrete
By comparison my sonnets will be reduced to a Daily Star article
My kisses will feel sliver, their greetings will feel like gold
I guess I’ll lay the final right now, may our love not end in a bang
But a whimper of the echo’s of unfulfilled promises and sweet nothings

If you feel you cannot merit your worth to me
In the midst of piles of golden spoils
Smearing my crown with the blood under my fingernails
As I stroke it from atop a platinum ladder
The that one’s all on you my dear
Kisses are timeless and sonnets scar the hippocampus
If your insecurity places a brace on your tongue
And your pride forces sorrow when you should feel joy
Then let me shed your remnants from my skin
As I take off to claims elements unknown as my own

To be preformed by Domestic

– Lnc0

If Kisses Mattered

My friend, we may of been allies for passing upon passing of the sun
But you shouldn’t dare shoot me a look like that in front of the cheese scones
While I unveil another tale of a romantic exploit crashing into the bushes
The way you tell me to stop pushing for 200mph on the first lap
It takes me back to an era long lost where kisses weren’t just a method
To escalate to sensual liberation but actually meant a damn all on their own

So I decide to try and spread it like the last of the butter
That’s trying to cater to a breakfast meant for 4
It may last for longer but it don’t taste nearly as sweet anymore
And that’s not even accounting the distortion in the mirrors image
The plates of my skin start to crack from my fingers like bark
Little quirks in my speech became foghorns, coughs became gunshots
When you started at me from the edge of your bed, and turned away
A ravine of sludge leaking from openings must’ve been all you could see
It’s only way my mind could make sense of things
As each passing day went us by, that we went untouched

And now I’m left here like a chorus with no subtext
I just want you to open my pores and give me context
I could be risking another wreckage for sure
But to risk censoring myself is a fate far worse
I want to lock our psyches by the pinky fingers
So while our keisters share a plot of cobble stone
Outside of a treasure map destination
I bleat a plea in a soft frequency into your ears

“Oh lady it’s just lately I’ve been feelin’ real ugly
So hook me by the folds of my skin and embrace me”

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

Poor Daisy

I wish I could say it straight to you
Why I feel like I have to get behind the curtains
And then disappear in a splash of doves in front of your eyes
Why I bring attention to the flaws in my psyche
Only to keep the explanations under a timed unlock
Why I ripped out my hair, over the buzzwords in your greetings
Before acting like nothing had happened to following day
And I dismiss all the above with “You haven’t caught me on a good day”

But it matters not how much of a heart a gold Daisy has
A human can only tolerate so many questions thrown their way
Especially if someone’s ripped all the answers out from the back
Daisy stops making the effort to come and see me
Daisy stops telling me that she thinks the world of me
Daisy stops wanting me to hold her hand in the street
Daisy starts to detonate the dynamite whenever she can
Make the very earth around us shatter and sink into the ground
Puts me at the very forefront of domestic carnage itself
Daisy smashed my nose, Daisy smashed my copy Pokemon
Daisy slashed the ropes that kept this bridge hanging, Daisy slashed herself
All in thin hope she could goat me into something resembling a reaction
But as much as I rummaged in my pockets for a spare one, I couldn’t provide
All I could fine was a spare 3.50 in coppers and nuggets
Perfect to walk out the door and leave her self-destructing
In the pursuit for one more gin and tonic and maybe a pint of pale ale
And maybe if I keep pumping it into my body and rummage around my head
I could find something resembling an emotion, But I couldn’t find one

*Written For National Poetry Month – 26/30*

Wings

Oh it’s oh so clear to me now
I may of spent a few hundred million years
Scratching the desk and knocking over my beer cans
To cold call a league of philosophers at my door
Man the tantrums seems so silly now
When I’m arm in arm with comrades of old
Gliding down the streets screeching our anthem to the sky
Oh yeah it’s so clear to me right now

They told me I couldn’t find anything better
And too take the lashing like a good little slave
They swore it never got any better then this
I was lucky to even grab where I was by the fingertips
They promised they were right
Far be it from me to question your motives for telling me that
Is this what you have to do to people to stay confident?
I’m confident that’s the case

You had to make me feel like dirt
In order to make yourself feel alive
All I had to do start living my life
In order to make you feel like dirt

All you ever wanted to do was clip my wings
Use me to shield you from the deathray
You fired straight at the mirror
Hey no biggie I’m just damaged goods right?
Well I didn’t hear the others complain
The only one who’s complaining is you
As you lay yourself in the same mousetrap
Scrape another lover to use from the highway

*Written For National Poetry Month – 14/30*

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*

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*