Poetry Blogs (fights)
This evening I am out walking
the static crackles
in the living room
and in the hallway
I lace my shoes
and go out walking
Tree-shapes calm me
dew drops kicked from blades of grass
this act cleanses things
I feel my fangs receding
sense the silence
breathe back into me
Imagine the TV glow dimming
imagine the hatred in her eyes
feel the black air cleari...
Monday 31st October 2016 9:21 pm
Saint Stephen's tale
It's Friday, sweets from Mrs Smith
Degeneration X and anarchy
Frankie's words: two tables, four chairs, suspension.
Discovered passing the buck, and thus passed it.
Stole the show with Twenty-one Questions, four dancers, and a singer.
First girlfriend changed everything, "You're young, she has baggage - get rid..." … did...
Sunday 7th April 2013 3:01 pm
Every generation has its own hard men
who rule the block, kick the new kids ass’s.
Who rule every bar, don’t take no for an answer,
are not to be messed with and demand respect.
They use the weapons of their trade, knives,
brass knuckles, guns, bats and more.
Take them away and their fists are a back up,
sure fire way of defence, offence.
Sunday 2nd December 2012 3:02 pm