" I am in a mental prison
subject to my own threats
Inspect;
the crazy things my mind projects
some take pills to manage the pain
though the never get away because their labeled insane
try to stay true
But how could you,
Because instead of seeing you, people fail to see the real you
A former of the word
Perhaps god has truer conquest
I hope it comes soon
Things becoming more stressed
But don't fear me,
I need you more then ever
Always here to stay

Do your children love you? Not a bit
They just think that you're a nerd or twit
They don't think you have a thought profound
And when you speak they look at you and frown
The things you say are not to there base tastes
The clothes you wear , to them are a disgrace
You are too old for them to call you mummy
They laugh at you and think that you are funny
They ignore you except for when they find
They haven't got a shilling or a dime
then do they pretend that they are nice?

Winter
the old ones' time of death
when sustenence is scarce
when starvation is bountiful
and disease is
rampant

Winter
the artist's time of contrasts
white and black
green and red
bleak and beautiful
serene

Winter
time of extremes
weather's playground
of thaws and blizzards
ice and rain
fractile

Does anyone remember Bunny Blue or Mary Jane and Sniffles
Or maybe Wonder Woman and Brenda Starr
Do you know where they are
Gone from everywhere except my memory

And I remember them well
Brenda's Mystery Man, forever searching the jungles
for the elusive black orchid
It was great to be a kid and live in my mind

Such great adventures with Mary Jane and the litttle mouse
with a hat and a pair of pants
Bunny Blue, who could climb out of the toybox and come alive
When there were no adults around

He hit me so hard

I blacked out

left me here

cowering naked in the corner

not just my body battered but my soul

never again will it be whole

with each dig his erection grew

gone the man I once knew

this is his passion, how he gets his kicks

My supposed crime - existing

my annoying habit - breathing

Last week I watched him sleep

the knife held tight

but I couldn’t do it

don’t have it in me

I have to get out of here

but I’m paralysed with fear

he’ll only come and get me

tethered down
this heavy crown
in dew dross languid home

the ghosts are heeding
fastly speeding
and safety's far from home

gleaned images of sun
dappled hands and fire forth
tilt to faces searching
the years
the yearning

this snow cascade
filling steps all in
the right
the wrong

and nights surrender
speeds in her tome
her rhyme her home

I reminisce to only think never this
The loneliness
Accompanied by the moans and whisps
Of revenge sexing me
A drinking binge investment treats
Every wound. Frees
The thoughts of feeling doomed, weak
Spineless. Unkindness
Reveals every moment to be timeless
And a man prone to be mindless

I look up and then He.

Coffee shop chai latte,
foam at the bottom
on table
and I.
When I look up,
He.

Denim dark indigo wide cuff,
he says out of function but he knows what looks good
and I know that he looks good
so I can’t stop thinking to myself
“My god he looks good”

This obsession isn't helped at all by this
ONE thing
that has become
THE thing to change
ALL things.
When I look up,
He.

He knew morality
came before religion,
today there is an awakening
of the human spirit.

Religion must take a back seat
to the caring of our world,
we finally understand
our affect on the grid.

Our children's children
may survive.

Acceptance is their course,
good we won't be around
to fuck it up anymore.

I seek the answers to the questions
First I must ask the questions.
Do I want to crawl upon the earth?
Did I wish so many to live in poverty?

When will you stop the children dying?
Where are the shelters you should have built?
Can you say you have done enough?
Why do many become ill, for the want of food?

Will that rifle, stifle cries for a peaceful time?
Why do full metal jackets scream questions?
Does splitting the atom feed the children?
Do the poor make poverty, or is it the rich?