Hateful Sonatta

You are the honey in my cardiac arrest
You are the Taffy in my asphyxiation
You are the sugar in my hypothermia
You are the chocolate in my haemorrhaging
Each drop that lands on my fingers
Sends me each shuffle closer to expiration
Each fragment you rip of me
Gathers dust on a pile in the basement
You are the maggots in my Granny Smith
You are the mildew in my bathroom suite
You are the cancer in my major graduate
You are the salmonella in my bake sale
Each trace of poison I carry in me
Get’s charitably shared throughout my community
Each glimmer of light I spy inside you
Turns into a siren light by the cliff-side
Yet each chance I get to side step you
I choose to play ignorant
What else is there to do on a Sunday afternoon
After staring bug eye’d at the window, ogling buffoons

– 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

GHOULCHESTER!

There’s no two ways around it tonight was their night
On the 31st all the creeps and ghouls
Hop on to the sixty-fear on head street
The one the mortals though was lost in the great crash of ‘87
It flashes the ticket to the headless driver and shuffles to the back
Colchesters cream of the crop are showing up for the festivities tonight
The whitest ghosts around the abandoned estate
The zombies who’s mothers could still recognize them
And it’s not feeling so assured after a glimpse of the company
Frankenstien assured it before it left, that he made a looker
Made from only the finest people that have died within the last year
The cheekbones and abs of the slickest men
The silky hair and the thighs of the most luscious of ladies
It just crossed what could be interpreted to be fingers
And hoped it’d slip into the background

All the skeletons are chatting their teeth to the jams
A mixtape of Nick Cave, The Cramps, Bauhaus
The mummies are showing off their new designer wraps
The wolf men are showing off the kind of guns
A huntsman could only hope to fight him with
While the harpies stroke his fine coat
Dropping feathers he snarls nothings in her ears
Meanwhile the Jiangshi’s saving face out the back
Complaining how the ableist scum inside friendzoned him
While the socially awkward swamp monsters
Pet the house chimera in the corner

She spots it’s hunched physique from across the room
The proceeds to say goodbye to her fellow Alraune on the wall
Introduces herself to the monster as Ssalucard
Classicly it fucks up the introduction
No matter how much it corrects itself
She’ll always know him as Frank-I-dillies monster

Their’s no way in hiding the fact that’s she’s keen
Although if it’s theories are reality remains to be seen
She smuggles into her vial of blood a shot of JD
Thus heightening the guarantee
She flashes her fangs after she takes a sip
The proceeds to play the janitor with her tongue

She grabs it’s arm and damn near pulls the stitches off
As Jack The Ripper by Screaming Lord Sutch starts to play
They brushed past the nymphs and the sprites
That where playing pranks on the dance floor
The will-o-wisp illuminate the dancefloor
Inbetween the Dybbuks and the Golems
They shimmied the floor into submission
While never taking their gaze of each other

They wondered outside of the club together
By this point the Wolfmen and Anubis
Are barking at eachother in the taxi queue
While the Mandrake girlfriends cry to split them up
Knowing when a party’s over
They head to the pumpkin patch

The vamptress lead it through the vegetation
Dodging the awkward Jack-O-Lanterns
Getting it on like they were blending with the environment
…They weren’t
They sat down underneath the Zaccoum
She takes it’s hand, runs her finger down the stitches
Looks into it’s eyes
“Hey, stay with me Frankie”

– Lnc0

Theivin’

I still remember the first job we ever did together
It was smack dap in the middle of May

We were gorging on the successes
Of telling our employers cleverly fabricated fables
Which told tales of the valiant bout of our immune systems
Succumbing to the intent of the flu invaders

We stopped by the local pub to relive the true illness
One that has taken captive of our warmth and affection
A 9 to 5 shift at the local call centre just to get by

The look of boredom on your face cut right through me
My promises of a 3-star Chinese takeaway
As a cuisine to the début of the new series of Big Brother
No longer lights any passion inside of you
As if possessed by your intent I got up from my stool
And grabbed a box of crisps from behind the bar and gave you a wink

The clang of the bells run through my spine
It brings my hairs to a rigid salute
It gives me shivers, charging every joint in my body
And a grin to my face, the first one I’ve felt in ages
As we dash to the nearest alleyway for refuge
Illuminated by the red and blue

It was never about the heist, It was never about the loot
It was that thrill of getting away with you
Slamming the front door behind us, so hard the frames shook
Slumping down the other end like the sweat on our brows
Pumping more oxygen through our bodies in a single day
Then we ever have in a year of back to back TV nights in
Eating the monster munch we stole from The Goat and Boot
Somehow made the X-factor finals more tolerable that night

And now here we are years later, sitting on Ikea summer deals
Keeping our obedient eyes on ITV around half 5
We might as well be dead as flies take hostage in our mouths
Oh hubby can’t it be as it was before?
The thrill of dodging a 3 month sentence
While toting a basket of paninis we won’t even eat

I hear your pleas loud and clear
As we fade away into the leather of our seats
So the next time we went on our monthly trail
A silent 20 minute torture down to the big Tescos
I’ll grab a box containing latest Furbbie toy from the shelf
And I’ll throw a wink your way to confirm your suspicions
And you’ll start to vibrate up and down with excitement
As we both start heading towards the door

I wouldn’t take a penny without you there
I wouldn’t scrump a crumb If your not around
It’s the only thing we had in common
It’s the only way to stop feeling so sullen

As Preformed By Domestic

– Lnc0

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

The Kids Don’t Know What The Fuck Love Is

What is this bottomless source of inspiration they call love?
Will it give me a reason to step out of the door in the morning
What is this immortal and uncontrollable desire they call love?
Will it make me finally clear the dust in these arteries?
What is this mythical force they call love?
Will it’s claw reach out and slap the knife from my throat?
What is this all knowing, all seeing entity they call love?
Will it stroke my hair and stop the late night sobbing?

They tell us not to worry, they tell us it’s not everything
Then they tell us to fucking consume by every square inch
Self-indulgent scriptures of bloated romantics
Acting like it’s as natural as wearing the shirt on your frame
And if you dare turn up to the social gathers on your own
Then you’re the outsider, the kid that got picked last in P.E
Arm in arms they give you the most detestable looks
Forcing you back like a laser beam back to the dungeon where you belong

Disingenuous sonnets shoved down my fucking ears every day
From deflated personalities, who have beam devoid of it long ago
Trying their hardest to recall a time a fallacy could serve as the fuse
I’d give anything to feel something so powerful
That’d it’ll reduce me to such a pathetic snivelling wreck
But I’d be thankful, because I was eroding on the floor with another

Would I stop feeling so lazy, if someone else was there egging me on?
Get your arse out of that chair you’ve got to keep my interest
Would I stop feeling so hollow, if someone else was there to make me react?
Unfasten my bra and I’ll bring this poor lost soul back to life
Would I stop feeling like I want to die, if someone else was there to stop me?
Oh honey you’re a god, you’re an Adonis, you’re anything you want me to say
Would I stop feeling like their’s no point, if someone else was there to give me context?
I’ll rip you open from your insides and give you subtext

You sit there from a top a makeshift stepladder and bark orders at me
To make a rough estimate for every aspect of my life from here on out
But when I can’t even begin to grasp this simple and yet universal concept
How could I even be sure of 1% of what could reach out and trip me up
Student loans, Career prospects, Mortgage, Kids college funds and Pensions
I can’t even get her to hold my hand before she leaves on the 61
Oh god what’s the point of trying, I’m lagging behind the crowd by 2 years
And now suddenly 80 years till my grave feels like it’s tomorrow

As preformed by Domestic

– Lnc0

Mutual Whatever

Kisses seal my letter of appreciation,
the timeless touch of blushing pilgrims,
passed down through the ages. Four full kisses you leant me,
after months of me trying to steal them.
I’ll try and hold onto this day
for as long as your kisses allow me to.

I’m sorry but the kiss jumped out of me,
trying to find a brief connection or a foothold for these feelings;
it wasn’t an admittance but a substitution.
My loneliness was an orbital pull and you were unlucky in your proximity.
Don’t get me wrong, the gloss on your lips is honey, not vinegar,
but I’m not a fly.

Does a kiss mean nothing at all to you?
With her they were exchanges of dying embers,
with you, like trying to ignite wet, weeping wood.
Typical of you to provide lackluster ignition,
and then blame the fuel.
Atypical of you to get so hung up on what is just
the meeting of flesh upon flesh and tongue upon cheek.

Goosebumps stood raised on my arm,
ready to tell what you were too blind to see;
my flesh was fuelled by the fantasies of what we could be.
Desperate indulgences feel real
when we’re only speaking with our lips.

Can’t you just give my kisses back to me?
Fill those blank spaces in your memory,
cover my indiscretions with shared moments of a platonic nature.
I’m not ready for one action to define our relationship, my dear,
don’t throw us away on a kiss

As preformed by Domestic

– Francesniff

Embrace The Reputation

Uggghh just look at him crawl through the door now
Drenched and draped in the usual suspects
A stringy fabrication of a mod icon, and dyed out jeans
With copper shreds of evidence of musical fandom
With his hired goons and a unsuspecting victim
What on earth was any of us thinking
Associating with a devil with such a bad reputation

Isn’t a strange phenomenon
When the wind blows near the gaggle of salty girls
Their cries that’re being carried in the air
Sound a lot like comic book fantasies and soap opera scripts?
I couldn’t even get into a persona and act out any of this shit
Summer milkshake serenades in the park
Or winter breakfast tea sessions on my settee
A strange thing to turn into a sex addicts soliloquy

Just gotta grin and bear it and embrace the reputation
Just embrace the reputation
Just live the reputation
Just love the reputation

Just gotta crash straight into the dive
Scantily clad in a laddy supernova persona
Wipe the dirty glares from my cheek
Dance to the soundtrack of the little comments
Yeah I’m a Casanova and I love it
Yeah I’m an asshole and I cherish it
Whatever helps you swallow that bitter little dose
Washed down with a stolen 2 for 1 savers brand cider

Just embrace the reputation
Just BE the reputation

Just gotta turn this parole into a riot
I’ll shoot your clan a look and you’ll like it
Yeah I’ll tell you fuck off and you’ll love it
Articles and articles of bullets for you to play with
During your Facebook water cooler moment
Amass tomes upon tomes of poetry
Filling in the blanks of my non-existence crimes
Hey if it gives you joy, I’ll be happy to indulge you
And embrace the reputation

As preformed by Domestic

– Lnc0

Just A Man

They knew you as broke-ass Baxter, from the shadows of the estate
The classic story of a candy wrapper tainting a cherry blossom garden
With your beat-up leathers and monochromed dyed trainers
And with one rouge blonde curl that no force was able to keep down
The way you teeter your cigarette left and right when the gears turn
And the little cracks in your laugh when something was especially hysterical
I always noticed them all, from the corner of the snooker hall
So when your eyes wondered trying to track down an ignition for your fag
I jumped at the chance, just for an excuse to give you my name
I can’t get enough of the way you sway in the queue
Who knows what ideas your plotting in that little mind of yours
Miles and miles away before the line starts to move
And maybe, you can take me their one day?

I snuck out by the bathroom window, on a waxing crescent moon
I met you outside the snooker club but there wasn’t much to do
So you led me through the wire traps and we end up at the coast
I perch on seaside debris, clutching the last tin you gave to me
And you begin tell tales of old sweethearts and rebellious youth
The content may of felt short, but god it’s just you just tell it so well
I push the fat of my cheeks up and make sure every inch of you is in my gaze
I couldn’t give a fuck about what your chatting, it’s just the way you tell it hon’
And maybe, I wanna listen to you everyday

My dear all your fallacies are false, can’t you see I’m just a man?
But can’t you see, your so much more then a man to me?
Well lets see if you share that opinion later on still
When you peer at me through the cracks of the door
And you catch me in the midst of an ‘um’ or an ‘err’
It doesn’t matter how much you take my fables
And stitch together An-Frankenstein’s Garfield
It’s all just a character to get excited about
Another one to exaggerate about in prose on lonely nights

How much of me do you wanna see?
I wanna see straight through you
And everything that makes you
Are you prepared to wince and sigh?
Are you prepared to not be amazed by something that makes me?
But you got me to come this far
I want to discover everything you could be
I just hope you feel the same thing for me

As preformed by Domestic

– Lnc0

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