A Sample Of Gritt

Oh mercy me what have I done?
I didn’t mean to turn this resort into a smouldering carter
I just wanted to have a little bit of fun
With another ‘God-Knows-Who’

Good little boys raised to be Angelic young men
Are always on the look out for taint among the diamonds
Your breath stinks of fags
And your parka reeks of weed
Take them blood stained hands
And cover these white skinnies with your pawprints
I need proof that for a night I had your validation
And I’ll carve my signature into your insides

The second lap of the Rollercoster comes to a close
And they shove me out into the following week
With lipstick still on collar
And a mark on my collarbone
It’s been 3 hours since then
And I still smell your perspiration on my top lip
I lay slumped in the back of my desk chair
You’ve saved me from all thought and emotion
I can’t think like this, and I can’t write like this
This must be how the addicts feel

It doesn’t matter how bad this way of living is for me
The scars and deformities it must leave on my mind
Just for a moment, just for an hour everything in the world
Just feels nice, if just for that moment

*Written For National Poetry Month – 23/30*

It Ain’t Easy Being Sleezey

Oh now don’t be like that my love
You don’t have to let me down with a face like that
I know that you’ve heard my echoes
Bounce off the walls of your social circle
And like a Kitten curious about it’s new home
You wandered what could’ve made your friends
Make such haunting noises into the night
You just wanted to get your hands dirty
You just wanted to feel the same things pass through your body
In the middle of a blank diary limbo
I think anyone would’ve done the same

Come now don’t be like that my dear
You don’t have to leave with your stomach lurched like that
It’s a challenge to get any rush out of life these days
Faced with a plethora of roads
And no single idea what direction to take
Just a couple of nights to feel like a god
Like you have complete control of your life for once
Trust me I understand the appeal
And while I might be on a hunt for a queen
Who’s to say I couldn’t caress an ego or to on the way?

*Written For National Poetry Month – 20/30*

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*

Counting Freckles (Actually Good Version)

I can’t articulate the anger I’m feeling right now at the Gaia
When the rays sneak past your curtains and intrude the picturesque scene
I couldn’t even conceive the idea of turning a band new page
Pushing the previous day to the side to start one without you
Take refuge with me within the darkness of the sheets
Under the covers where time is forced to cease
And the cancer rays have no chance of pierce through our reality
To me it’s still Sunday, hours pass like seconds and sonnets pass like comments

There’s no chance at coherent through or complex social patterns
My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can I do pay silent tribute to your adorable little grin
Your early morning mop, the auditory bliss of a morning yawn
It’s a self inflicted disability, but I couldn’t even begin to complain
So here we are at the advent of the afternoon, and I’m just counting freckles

And now we’re in a very special place, where we reject the visionary senses
But I can tell your resting your head on my chest, when I feel your respiratory rhythm
It feels like a waste to stay dormant when I’m teased by your perfect silhouette
The eyes may fail, but every follicle that comes into contact with mine
It paints a very clear picture of the masterpiece that lay before me
So I trace a Piccaso with my nails on the cavans that was gifted for me
Each corner I turn sends the signal for the hairs to reach for the skies
The goosebumps start to rise and your back begins to arch
You grapplehook my attention with that debilitating gaze
You don’t move a muscle and you wouldn’t dare say a word
But the ripples in the atmosphere that come from the flicker of your brow
I’ve bathed in the darkness long enough to know exactly what it is your asking for
So I start to change the course, and begin trace a figure eight
At the intersection where the sun never shines, yet still flourishes

My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can do is silently worship your illuminating kisses
So here we are, coming up to the tail end of the afternoon
And all I want to do is keep counting eyelashes

Counting Freckles (Horrible Late Night First Draft)

I can’t articulate the anger I’m feeling right now at the Gaia
When the rays sneak past your curtains and intrude the picturesque scene
The cancer rays tear through the security of the sheets
We take refuge under the covers, and kick the day off with a simple “Hello”

There’s no chance at coherent through or complex social patterns
My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can I do pay silent tribute to your cute little grin
Your early morning mop, the auditory bliss of a morning yawn
It’s a self inflicted disability, but I couldn’t even begin to complain
So here we are at the advent of the afternoon, and I’m just counting freckles

While I take hostile in your arms, you find a new home in the centre of my chest
In the presence of such flawless design, I’m compelled to serve and obey
So I trace a Piccaso with my nails on the canvas that lay before me
Each corner I turn sends the signal for the hairs to reach for the skies
The goosebumps start to rise and your back begins to arch
You grapple my hook my gaze with them big brown eyes
As you pose a request by the way you apply force to my wrists
I trace a figure eight in places the sun will never shine

*This is awful, but I’m keeping it as a reminder to NOT post first drafts ever, even when super tired and high on life, this forever will be a blight on my record looool*

14/02/2014

At first, as if too marionette your actions, I feigned indifference at the offer
For a 30 quid overdraft in the name of smearing the dye of my jacket
Against the half price circa 1990 bargain bin wallpaper
All to the soundtrack of to a chart of the charts
All to the flavour of a 6 pack of lukewarm ale
I could’ve died and fallen to the bridge bar underworld

Until you stole my gaze, the second I caught your reflection in the fridge
The bar I could never reach, A ruby amongst the garnet
I knew I couldn’t live with myself, until I’ve exchanged language with you
A beer pong spectator, A greatest movie debater, A sexy story dictator
Whatever role you wish to play, it’s fine by me, as long as it keeps you talking to me
And I can keep seeing that intoxicating smile

As time treacles down the drain, along with the Rosé wine
Our cheeks have gone the way of the rouge stains on the carpet
As I bare a witness to the Aurora Borealis of the night
It’s when your eyes start to illuminate the room when you begin to divulge your passions
The way you describe the stage, it’s as if it’s a piece of Asgard on your little blue rock
Each description of how each cog turns the machine, gets me excited with you
I’d like to think I’m not so shallow as to lose my breath at the flex of intellect
But I can’t deny the saliva pushes against the palate, when these words leave your lips

You try and deter me with cautionary statistics, and ask to refocus my beer goggles
You sink your head into you chest as you lament about your vessel to me
I have to chuckle to myself, that you’d think such a thing would turn me away
As I engage in the one of my excruciation mental battles with my occipital lobe
You see it’s taking him a while to believe the mortal avatar of Aphrodite
Is still talking to me when she has a catalogue of Adonises to pick and mix from

You say I could do better, but baby don’t you understand
I’ve tasted the greatest soma, and it’s just apple squash
I’ve tangled with the most complex nous, and it’s just channel surfing
All in comparison to you, golden trophies turn into copper coins
I know I don’t deserve to clean the dirt between your toes
But if you feel generous, maybe I could loan a kiss or two from you
When our calves are in-between the shoes, pressed up against the front door
Seconds feel like days, when I’m so close to them mocha corneas

Each inch of your construction deserves my full attention
I could spend a millennium caressing each and every pour of your body with my lips
Timing each and every kiss, with the precision of a diamond cutter as I travel up your legs
Slither my way through your chest and leave my insignia on your neck, before returning to your lips
Oh darling I know I’m being greedy but if the outside is this outstanding
I struggle to comprehend what awaits me inside the grey matter
Let me sync with you my empress, let your inspiration and creativity pour into me
Just a second of exposure to that mind of yours, will lighten my entire life

Oh even if you choose to desert my shores this time tomorrow
And shoot for the stars you were clearly born to grasp in your hands
I’ll spend a lifetime in ecstasy, no matter how grey the skies will get
Just a second of nostalgia with my valentine, the silver will beam through the clouds
But if you ever decided that this lowly peon could be your man
I’d transcend to a state of a mind, that unfortunate mortals could never reach

Dedicated to B.B

The Valentine No Show (W.I.P)

My eyes they dry like a Sunday morning washing line
My lungs press together with a vice of your presence
I’m struggling to stay alive, just walking to your door
The body’s willing but their’s no air
I’m gasping on the floor it’s to much to bare!
The grip on my fingertips is starting to weaken
The choke on my glands is getting righter
The blood in my hands is getting thinner

But the thrill of young lovers can be deceiving indeed
We met both strategically clad in our battle armour
Ready to wage war like a DVD cover of a 80’s road flick
And yet we act like business men, handing out contact details
To arrange a transaction which we feel could benefit our brands
While you tend to your needs, I’ll play happy couples

I think it’s easy to claim you’d lay in wait on my sofa
On the frost bitten evenings, to stroke my scalp
To unplug the scalelectrix whirling around in my brain
When i’m tracing the stairway to heaven on your navel
And sending your eyes away to the back of your skull
If I held it all for ransom, would you still come back to help me?

I’ll allways be your best man, the one your ashamed to admit
That you think about when your future homeowner misses the mark
But you can never be anymore then a charity case to me girl
As I sit starting at the walls on the hill of the roller-coaster
Where will you be when I howl into the night asking for your love?
Would you be anywhere if I couldn’t offer a surge in return?
Would you be somewhere else when someone can do it better?
I know you wouldn’t my sweet, and I know that’s your right

Looks like I won’t be seeing around this St. Valentines
I know I wouldn’t, and I know that’s your bloody right

I Can Show You, What He Could Never Give You (W.I.P)

My fists clench with a force to crush diamonds themselves
When I hear that testimony utter from your lips
Could it really be so, during the age of information?
That inexperienced young minds could confuse that for love?
When he picks apart petrol station oaks to commemorate a landmark
When he leaves you frowning on the mattress on valentine nights
When he keeps positive vocabulary for ransom to keep you on his level
It’s gonna be a while till I pick my jaw from the floor

Oh my sherbet clad confectionery delight
Just itching to be taken home from the seaside stand
I’m not here to lug my bottom on cider stained leather
Advertising my self, by reading you my credentials
Point out every young pretty thing standing at the bar
Whom I’ve seen the very joints in their cheeks come apart
As they attempt to articulate the serge of electrons
I’ve conducted through their very forms
That would be rather crass of me to say here and now

I want you to take a shot into the unknown
I want you to open the ribs in your chest
To take a chance on the unfamiliar
To open your eyes to a world past a single body
Did he ever run his fingers through your hair?
Did he ever scrape his jaw against your neck?
To get the engines to warm up?
To get you in the mindset to make the offer yourself?

I doubt he had neither the time nor the care honey
Scrubbed the plaque of his choppers in math class
And left you for dead underneath his desk
That’s not love dear, that’s being picked apart by the wolves
I can bow down at your feet, the second I see your shadow cast
I wouldn’t just get the feeling back in your feet
I can make sure the feeling pours from your very sockets
You just don’t know it yet my princess

I Can’t Feel Anymore (Mostly With My Hands)

The cautious optimisms out the door by bomb 3
The realistic expectations pack it in on pint 2
The fear got a taxi home when I Introduced the woo’s
Cos these last 2 months I’ve had
There’s enough material seeped into their days
To pitch 7 movie plots to Hollywood
I don’t wanna let on that I sound desperate
But someone needs to hit the reset button: Fast
So point out which cocktails your ignorant too
We can take the plunge together

And the Subtly dies with the ‘Cherry Bomb’ special

Oh what’s her face’s best mate
Just tell me what I have to do
If there’s anything I can do
I’m so bored give me something to do
There’s something I really need to do

Maybe it’s slow release poison you’ve fed me with
Cleverly named after an old kids television show
But what I’m about to say sounds pretty tragic
I just can’t feel anything anymore
The grab of the wrist and flick of the hair
Doesn’t guarantee anything anymore
All it takes is a bat of the lid
From the next every man clad in this weeks brand
And your out of the door
What? ….No of course not, I brought that drink for you!

And the wit and charm dies after the White Russians

Oh my friends, ex’s mates classmate
Just tell me what I have to do
If there’s anything I can do
I’m so bored give me something to do
There’s something I really need to do

The outsiders and misfits are shunned in this environment
I won’t tell you to grab your coat
I’ll save the poetry for the pillows
So now i’m slumped outside V-bar once again
Pushing the fat on my cheeks, over my eyes
Just give me a sec, a few slaps to the face
And I’ll run back for round 2
If I sit around any longer they’re gonna recognize me
The slumped toupee, you can catch him around 20 past 1
Dry as a bone and alone

And the hope dies after the glass of tap water

Oh my cousins, friends, postman’s, daughters, teachers, half-brothers, gym teachers, dog walkers, sisters, hairdressers, ex-husbands, mistresess, plumbers, best man’s, step-daughters, BFF
Stop fucking around and tell me what I have to do
To spend a night with you
Just something to get me through

The Beast Inside

If it starts with a weakend roar
As the alpha wearing the shorts round the ankles look
Bellowing in a cesspool of bile
I dread to imagine where it ends
All of the repressed mistresses
Throw all blame to fermented fruits
All in an exuse too release…

The beast inside

The balence becomes obvious at this point
Feed the Jugheads another cup of piss
Shifting knees and bitten lips
Suggest you might need to feed her too
But not before our main event
Get their puppet strings in a knott
Sit back and enjoy the show
How could they ever quell…

The beast inside?

Just one more, I sware one more
Not untill it feels like i’m in a cyclone
As I take one last sip from my straw
I notice you notice me notice that
I can’t stand this heat no more
Close the windows, follow my lead
I known it’s early on but…

The beast it calls