A cold wind is blowing;

It makes its way in,

It seeps through the brick

And clings to the skin.

It pierces the heart

With icy disdain

And somehow compels you

To look up again.

And when you look up

What is it you see?

No castle, no garden,

No landscape, no tree;

Just untidy death

Of industrial scale.

Now all human life

Is a second-hand sale.

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The language becomes narrower each day;

Our actions and our words decelerate.

Only in the aftermath of slaughter

Do we attempt to find the words for death:

Some words to tick the box and shrug it off,

To come to terms with our cheap cuts of guilt.

Their boy lies, unresponsive, while we live

To relish the chaos of adulthood.

Truth is complicated. Dumped in a hole,

Until j...

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we sit drinking coffee,

much is yet unspoken,

my cup looks cracked,

her biscuits all broken

the flat smells of damp,

split ends and oily hair,

scars bangle her wrists,

focus of my coy stare

by the hearth lies a cat

of a species I deplore,

yellow paint peels off

a lone bedroom door

on her neck a blemish

coated in stale powder,

all in all, a f...

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An empty bookshop
breaks my heart

It´s a piece of candy
rotting 
in a wrinkled hand
with no grandkids in sight

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Fake nostalgia spews out from your head

For a sepia England that was never there

Hatred junkie, you know

Where the blood river flows

Feel the bile at your knees

Marching bands drown out your higher brain

Blaring voices drive your soul insane

Hatred junkie, you feel

Like a cog on a wheel

Grinding so out of time – after time

God made you useless

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