Caught-ship

Blimey Charlie, he's quite forward,
For boys these days they're all so starboard,
But this is fresh, this seems anew;
I haven't had this since 2002.

The clubs are dead and full of meat,
Get called a perv chatting up in the street.
Moving in packs and losing charm,
Thinking catcalls don't cause no harm.

But shut your mouth your whistles mean nowt.
Where's the numbers? Still in doubt?
A man who takes charge and takes the lead;
Is a boy who knows that some girls heed.

It's simple, a gamble, you just need to chance,
To ignite a flame a man, solo, starts a dance.
Some say this fashion is way too old,
But bravery, courage, assertion; we're sold.

So take charge of your situation,
You're wasting time; this hesitation.
As time can pass by - it's gone, it's quick.
You missed it man, you've been a dick.

Don't be shy, show the world your balls.
And then - perhaps - she'll await your calls.
Rejection? Pfft so what? Now you know...
It wasn't right. There's not an epic show.

Swallow that pride and make your move,
You really do have nowt to lose.
So, why did you get off the saddle?
And why is it so hard to have a dabble?

It's you and ego at war with self,
Years go by... you're on the shelf.
And now those around you are all hooked up,
It's down to you, not a question of bad luck.

For girls just want a Daddy to search for,
Like-wise someone to be there for nurture.
It's not Freudian this slip of mine,
It's honest, it's true, it's beautifully fine.

So move to the port of fresh new hope,
Start it slowly, it might elope.
But put some wheels underneath your station.
Your frozen state isn't worth your dedication.

The D Train

I tried to catch the D train, but it seems to have stopped.

I tried many times, but the service has dropped.

The timetable - when it comes - it comes sporadically,

But I receive no notice, it seems to stop me.

For no reason it has in postponing the trip,

But self-service demands it, in riding the dip.

A brief encounter is what I am to expect,

When I felt that I missed it with total regret.

For the D train it travelled just like hi-speed bullet,

But my empathy came and I just couldn't dull it.

A visual memory, I arrived at the station,

The D Train was nowhere near destination.

But National Rail called and they told me to cease,

But the D train didn't appear to have had much peace.

For it stayed in the shed, unloved and uncherished,

It stayed in the shed no award, past-embellished.

One day I hope they will call me to say,

Jump onboard the D Train, today is the day.

A legal high

For those in pain and it will not surrender,
You try other options to avoid the street sender.
For when it comes, it comes without timing,
And the horror you feel is increasing and climbing.
You wish that you could put a gun to your head,
Rather than feel pain, it'd be better to be dead.
And who would have thought something simple as this,
Would lead to a mess, a stigma; a diss.
When the pain, it was double, the only relief,
Was to get on the stage and act the big chief.
So now look at the mess that this whole thing has caused,
Your body an existential mess on the floor.
You stay in your bed and you try not to weep,
You wished that it was a permanent sleep.
For nobody likes a moaner, you see,
You rock up for laughs and the weekend party.
But the pain that you felt, was the bear with sore head.
How can something like this make you want to be dead?
And when it was taken a euphoria came,
But nobody wants to know what you can blame.
And so investigatory work it now must continue,
To find the answer is natural, it's something within you.
But the pros in this field, they don't have a clue,
For they study their books and don't live as you do.
So you wait and you wait, treading water-like mud,
And the help that has come, couldn't but should.
And things have spiralled out of all control,
You stumble to walk like the clownish young fowl,
But the strength you have, you must again try and muster,
When you're tired of the fight, and the professional fluster.
So the answer is out there, one day it will come,
But for now, you drop out; what's done has been done.
Now you hide your head in shame and you cry,
The pain has gone, but you still want to die.

Punch Drunk Punk

That gap I could fill with a boot to the face,
Your self-concerned arrogance remaining in place,
Your syrupy words try to grab at my strings,
But you can't even see your deceitful weak stings.

Remember when this...? Remember but why?
Don't even bother, it's not worth a try.
When we slept as terrace in seaside states,
I thought you were it; my finest of mates.

But time muscled on, and jealousy destroyed,
The big one hi-jinx; my playtime with boys.
The vintage has blurred any speckle of care,
And the laughs that once were, were just left right there.

Remember the powder party; hi-fliers galore?

I spoke with the addled and saw rotting core.

One such child had spoke at me for hours, 

Yet my manners intact, my impatience had cowered. 

Now you may like a dram(a), you may want a shot,

But I haven't the time, not even a jot.

As heads disappear and invert up backsides.

I hope you've enjoyed all of our rides.

You think that I'm stupid, that you can take the piss,
If I could see you now, that gap would meet weegie kiss,
I hope your quaffing chaps see you for who you are,
A secretive, charming continental with a peanut - har de har.

The phone will ring out, so don't try and dial,
As judge and jury, there's no option for trial.
So remember - with fondness - all the fun we had shared,
But that was yesterday when perhaps you had cared.

So next time you want to rinse someone of knowledge,

Remember 'the small talk' that came at the college.

I was doing well, just fine, thanks for asking.

I'm sorry if you thought extra words would be taxing.

The inuit is focused on catching his fish,
And feeding his face with his premium dish,

So shove your mer medley where the sun won't shine,

You were, are no longer, a good friend of mine.

Good luck Francois, now I bid you Salut,
So now you can focus on you and you too.
Don't be considered, for one moment that I am bitter,
I'll drink a smokey note, and think of the 'big hitter'.

Muttering Uttering Nuttering

The guy on the bus, he went fuckin mental,
We'd only just left Manchester Central.
Stopping the 85, driver disabled.
Impatience from all sides enabled.
WHERE AM I? His voice projected,
Near Moss Side - he's disconnected.
I grabbed my chain, observed right in,
Regardless of the crack coke sin.
For his body screams the sign is vacant,
The abuse has left him, screaming latent.
For some just think 'What a nutter'.
The addled mouth in faux filth mutter.
Screaming at a woman, "ARE YOU BLIND?"
He didn't mean to be unkind.
Her shades suggest she couldn't see,
She shrugged in the face of uncertainty.
And finally he found his stop,
Driver frustrated; at last the drop.
A one fingered salute was how they departed,
For the young shop girl had bravely started...
Her voice was calm; she spoke like lamb,
And touched him soft, unlike the gram.
For she had been the one true hero,
When others would have met with zero.

Chittering Shat

What lame arsed line did you just say?

To try and catch me for seedy play?

"Do you think he'll spin some Jagger and Keef'?"

He did, just then, you dribblin queef.

I know you think I'm easy game,

I've seen so much, I'm tried of the same.

To talk to girls in bars is cheap,

Come on man, you're just a creep.

Your breath it smells of desperation,

The beef? I'm guessing perspiration.

But I 'spose you have some kind of balls,

To rally lines and hope they'll fall.

But back up fella, this girl is taken,

Even in fiction my boyfriend fakin',

It's a shame your eyes are blurred with ale,

As this is obviously a fucking fail. 

So piss off will ya' and give me a break,

I only came here to move and shake.

Why not try the girl to my left,

She's drunk so much, dignity bereft.

That whiff of vomit in her lap,

Her fella left her, with water on tap. 

If you're looking for some easy meat, 

Then sit in the gutter, it's in the street.

Or go and find some sweaty sauce,

I'm talking Shish Kebab of course.

So let this be a lesson to all triers,

A girl with respect doesn't need a buyer,

For closed bids only is what I'm after,

And most of all bring me the laughter.

Douillet Tété (a Tété)

The blackbird it screams bullshit,

It's black eye as wide as hell,

Gnawing on meaty bones,

No stories he had to tell.

This cloud of thick vagueness,

It stutters foggy dense,

And that catholic guilt, you spoke of,

In this new age, is past tense.

So open your beautiful blue eyes,

And see the cronies in the midst,

As they're the ones who are dining,

You can see them, dribbling, pissed.

Do you know who you are now?

Can you see what they do?

For those friends that surround,

Don't want you for you.

So keep your royalty,

To lavish on those you crown,

As the ones that kiss your arse,

Are the ones dragging you down.

You're funny, and shy and silly,

And it's all stuffed in nice and tight.

For you're the boss my friend,

Keep it real, boy, keep it in sight.

So return to when you were extra;

Alone, real and pure, 

For that was when the melody,

Lacked the obvious formulaic score.

Listen to your heart, 

As that will speak in honesty,

You don't need borrowed middle eight,

Secure; your admirable modesty.

I hope it works out for you, 

I truly am an admirer.

But watch yourself, illustrated, 

And avoid the twisted that expire. 

Judah's Preach

You gave her a kiss, but you bit off her head,
Anything that could've happened, is instantly dead.
Now she's floating, suspended, thinking 'what if...',
When a small bit-of-banter became an overblown tiff,
You feared that she'd write about you and your ways,
Yet, you don't know of subversion, and the way that it sways.

She wishes you weren't you - you were somebody else,
And that your self-interest, hadn't left you on the shelf,
Whoever hurt you, whoever shut you down,
It's completely irrational, the Judah-in-crown,
But you hide away, mournful, licking your paws,
And you've unwittingly closed all of those doors.

Your prey wanders free, and prospers content,
When you got it all wrong, you didn't know what she meant.
Now you think in your cage you have a problem of sorts,
When she closed the door on lovers-in-court.
But time rolls by, the moment has passed,
It's a shame you missed out on that great piece of ass.

Marked

I am not crying for me, I am crying as I cannot help Marked,
He paces endlessly like a caged animal - because that's what he is.
We are animals.

He spoke to me for the first time today, he asked me to protect him,
And right now I can't. I am helpless. Because I am a caged animal too!

These tears are for you.

17.11.11.

The Sickest Kick

Where were you when we got sick?
Working 9 to 5, busy in smoke, thick.
Your S.H. lacks any service or health;
You're far too busy counting up your wealth;
Your cars, your frocks, your deco garnet rings,
Enveloped in power with fraudulence it brings.
Speaking to ones whom mouths tell no truth,
Your silence projects no form of couth.
Your lies, your words, they don't mean shit.
Where were you when we got sick?
You could have rang, you could have spoke,
Yet you remained gagged and made me choke.
My hurt is infinite; awash with anger,
Yet the days passed, and I waited longer.
The call - when it came - was dripping in fable
And you're the one calling me unstable?
So treat your patience as I'd expect;
Lacking concern, but now regret.
Who has felt the strongest kick?
Where were you when we got sick?

Satellite

Do you know just how important you are?

For tolerance and acceptance from those afar.

Your face is always a pleasure to see,

You are the glue; essential to society.

Some people they may ridicule,

But ignorant fuckers are so cruel.

WE love those questions, and that banter,

As you visit the spots, a weebling canter. 

I miss your face when you disappear, 

But it won't be long till you reappear.

For I get it, I do, I totally understand,

You're anxious, that's fine, showing hand.

Once I tried to hug too much,

You then recoiled, unable to touch.

Though I knew it wasn't only me,

It's one of those things I didn't see.

But don't be shy, let's see those moves,

And ease up on Arabian blues.

For it will work out for them, you'll see,

Revolution and greed will be the key;

Uprising? Gas it will decline.

It'll work out man, it's going to be fine.

Oh dearest Pat, you make me smile,

Walking your beloved Golden Mile.

For you are truly loved by those who know,

When you're around, we know there's a show.

The Gentle Con

Ha ha, you laughed,
And accused me of such malice.
Whilst you stay, Dolly Daydream,
Inland in your stagnant palace.

The drink, a gamble;
You profess no sense,
Just an extension of your shamble,
In aiding a downfall, tense.

You said do me a favour?
I fired, send me the papers.
I do not need emissive non-labour,
From one who commits idiot capers.

You think you know best,
Remote, away from the truth,
Yet it was me who was to invest,
Roulette wheel - a private pursuit.

For one who did nothing,
And omitted his intoxication,
Yet, still he did nothing,
The downfall of procreation.

I ask, do me a favour?
Keep your concern out of my life,
For I'm not yours to savour,
Not your trouble, not your strife.

You had your chance,
I tried to show you the way,
But eyes remained blinkered,
Mouths did not honesty say.

They say you still love her,
A pointless exercise,
As she lost it long ago,
A gradual - obvious - demise.

An empty vow,
That had nought within it,
A con it seemed within the home.
And so it continues infinite...

Perhaps she'll find the secret,
A meat-only-jaundiced-mess.
One who consumes on the quiet,
And sunbathes all-inclusive for less.

I wished you well,
I meant it true, completely,
But any help you ever gave me,
Was clearly interest-free only.

So now it is the end,
I mean for real this time,
Because what once was yours,
Is - really - now just mine.

So send me the writ,
As our journey is at the end.
And let's forget this bit.
Holy union? No, I pretend.

Repeat, Repeat, Heartbeat It Beats.

Repeat, repeat,
Heartbeat it beats,
And here we go again,
The one I had my eye on,
Is another one in pain.
Perhaps this is universal,
This is a perma-state.
When eyes and minds are closed;
I hope I'm not too late.
It must be the major,
As times they are so hard.
I seem to be a hoarder,
Of damanged collector cards.
So let me in for mischief,
And chat, and laughs galore.
Perhaps I hand you my hand,
In opening up the door.
Though this can be done solo,
You could do it D.I.Y.
But have you got a grasp of it,
Do you know the reason why?
A problem held it doubles,
And rides upon your back.
But don't worry my sullen friend,
My heart it will not attack.
So let me in for helps sake,
You can't do this on your own.
For the one who remains unopened,
Is the one that stays alone.
Repeat, Repeat,
Heartbeat it beats.
You need not be afraid,
For I only want to help you,
Not allow me to be laid.
So back up little brother,
And see what I can do,
For my motive is not sinister,
Why would I want to hurt you?
Someone must have come along,
And broke your life in two,
Remember times will always change,
They'll become electric for you.
So ride this time as best you can,
And hold your head up high,
For now you should tall posture,
And dream toward the sky.
So don't take this on in single,
Let the ones who love you touch,
Come out from your sanctuary,
It doesn't take too much.
Repeat, repeat,
Heartbeat it beats.
Repeat, repeat,
Heartbeat it beats.

Rough Wood

I didn't want to mention,

Though I have some information,

You can't think of refrigeration, 

For you know the situation.

Don't blow the lobe inflation.

You're going to miss the station,

Distracted by congregation,

Yet in need of aviation.

Don't idle on fine vacation,

As you've got a proclamation,

It's not an adaptation,

This drawn-out situation.

An endless dead location,

Make sure of correlation,

They have their expectation.

To soothe a sickly nation.

You know the implication.

So speed up exaltation, 

For we need a celebration,

Of child-like demonstration. 

So hurry up with gumption,

We need your salutation,

Don't open to corruption,

Just do your dissertation!

Snake Flower

Your nag is not the champa,
The scent will never be the same,
It's nauseous permanence a damper,
In memoriam of empty game.

So pass me the fragrant note,
One that rings white pure,
In memory of love and respect,
It's bound in smoke, folklore.

You're doing alright Jacque,
You have support, go on fly.
Now don't you dare look back.
Stay focused on your sky.

Because the snake tree smells putrid,
It's toxic venom oozes red.
And the smell that once was lucid,
Now reminds me of the dead.

Mildred at 21

I know the lights hurt you, because they hurt me too.

The memories flicker, and fire bright blue,

You lie there in pain, no one knows what to say.

Your inflections reveal, this could be any day.

Mildred, young girl, you lie awake at night,

Gaining some comfort from the darkened respite.

Mildred, old girl, you were once just like me,

But your memory stutters, and one becomes three.

I spoke to you gently and smoothed back your hair,

If only they knew, then maybe they'd care,

The pain in your side is apparent to see,

Yet help is denied, and they had to stop me.

I held your hand tight, and whispered your name, 

The brightest blue iris, its beauty to blame.

Your chatter, your calls, it doesn't matter what you said,

For the Mildred that once was, is now left unread.

Utmost

I saw a spark: a fire, a fight,

The utmost underdog might have might,

Endlessly - though - how wrong we've been,

A passive plea that should have gone unseen.

The saboteur is happy in fractious control,

To avoid the reality of being out-of-control.

But it's back to the start; repeat, rinse, recycle.

We've been here before, it's part of the cycle. 

Push it away! Your perspective is twisted:

Lethargic, gnarly, blackened and blistered.

Look to the sky, please find the light, 

I pray the utmost underdog might have might.