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Buses are more phucked than Trains

By Bill 53 1/2


The announcement we all dread..

Filters though the Station air

‘Buses are replacing Trains’

my smile turns to a glare.


I know how this unfolds…

as I drag me to the bay

Where the throbbing omnibus coyly waits

to make miserable my way.


The PTV bus is an unholy child

Born of misery and desperation

It’s ruins you day and makes you late


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Bikes on Trains are phucked too

By Bill 53 1/2.


You see them standing near you.

On the platform packed with life.

Their fucking vacant smiles

shows no care for the strife.


That their crappy worn out bike,

Will cause all when jammed onto the train.

As it blocks the doors and takes precious space,

And adds tenfold to commuter pain.


Travellers shuffle by,

With many a stumble and fall.


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Trainsbikesangrycommuterpublic transport

Hell knows no fury

How come
The heart-wrenching
And the  unexpected
Widow's grief

The lady in black
Soon defying
Funeral decorum
Put on pink clothes
Decency that lack
Simply to attack
A deceased
Cheating husband
Whose unfaithfulness
Kept in the dark
Soon after funeral
Became stark!

Aghast adultery
Hell knows no fury.

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adulteryangrybitter and twistedcheatingconfusiongriffparadoxsadunfaithfulness

I am Fish

I am raw like fish

Kill my heart to feel your best

Have me on the table

Be my guest

This is your wish

This is your wish?

And I, so foolish

Being dinner

Being fish

Am raw now

From your lies

Attracting flies you tie

Trapped to the hooks on your lines

Tied to your string

This is your wish

This is your wish?

And it's OK to eat me

I don't have any feel...

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My Fault Again

He made our argument physical again tonight

Every time I think it's the last

Leaving him isn't an option

Plus, where would I go?


My heart can't take the cruel words or pain

Eventually, I'll learn how to cope.

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sadaloneangryrelationshipargumentconfusedlonelymental healthtired

Selfishly Human


Every bit of what I see, I soak up like they are my needs for survival;  I take it in to make me feel whole. 

Each star dot-to-dot, I join, thieving the light from the sky. 

The trees, the grass I will smell.

Then no one can ever smell them again. 

The windows, the rooftops, the buildings, bottles, bins, buses and the yellow droplets of fuel that seep from their engines;

I will...

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I'm working dammit


on the promise of a viscous promiscuity
I would normally shoot first, clean the mess later, ensure no witness survives
in the middleweek each slatternly evening should be bedded early 
recently, though, the inclination of a night is to drink
right! right! right!
read and write and write and ride a hundred of your dirty looks
in an all night...

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revolution runs better on stolen gasoline

every curtain will be stolen from


each grain of dirt will raise

it’s raucous voice above

and over manners


while atoms bond

air will ignite for

blood is fuel enough

as gravity exists

believable in it’s force


secure each ideal

under fire from

truthful lies repeated

within freedom’s

monopoly of slaves


these d...

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