Biography

Age: 27
Job: Copywriter
Home: Bury
Religion: No
Sex: Yes

Here's a few old ones. I have never performed my poems, or showed them to anyone for that matter; all constructive criticism greatly appreciated.

Samples

Paranoid pariah.

Paranoid pariah I become
Feet tapping eyes numbed null
by sights seen solely from my
Skull skewed point of view
And you, who have used and accused
Shaken the door from its hinges with news
Of ridiculous proportions…
More rides on distortions of light
through glass than could ever be
notioned in the shivering mass
you call mind. While mine, mined
for money, must be swept aside like dust
because of You

You who judge me with your looks
Lingering, your nose aiming south
A sloping sneer steered by your mouth,
Your eyes dig like hooks groping
Pin prick fingers in to my flesh
Oozing judgemental mentality mess from
Your sterile sense of reality, who are
You to judge me by looks only by
my half finished books, you lonely
in the land of the bland, diminished on
demand in the name of normality?

Who are you?
Who am I?
I am whatever you are not
I am the secret plot
I am.
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The work/life balance of a farmer.

I am at the door for four.
Soft, vindicating kisses
caress my guilt-tangled
brows,

I struggle 'neath their
lingering promise -
a martyr to my cows.

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Ban bonzai.

The bonzai tree you bought for me has died:
it dried out without a bark of pain,
waiting quietly inside for rain.
Perhaps knowing that
if it cried and nobody came,
its hurt would be the same
(or worse).

The bonzai tree you bought for me has died.
I confess I tried to hide the pot,
bury the lot beneath the floor
before you got there first
and thought the worst –
confusing my accident
with cruel intent, or
my mess with metaphor.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.