Lick your fingers
Every last bit
Bend over
Take the hardest hit
Now, burn
And let me watch
Crumble
On the spot
Twist yourself in knots
I want the final drop
Then,
Become dust
Collapse and shed
Until the last sparkle
Of my Queens head
Is spent
Until the last glimmer
Of her glitter
Has bled
You belong to me
I own your soul
That is how
You line
Every pocket
With gold

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Happiness, in hands for you.

If you decided, not to be sad.

As a cup of water, to drink.

To clean your thoughts, to be glad.

Sadness, does not need to broach.

It always knocks, worried heart.

But Happiness, with a golden coach.

Asks, to ride happiness cart.

The Brain is yours, “to make use”.

Positively, think of your own.

Feel your value, never abuse.

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All alone in the world

full of disgrace, and disgust.

I never knew anything,

all my thoughts turned to dust.

The black and the gold,

this must have been my heart,

turning to dark mold.

Crusty and dry,

my high was fading,

and my eyes cried to a certain soul.

They all abandoned me,

and left me for dead.

As for what they forgot,

was apar...

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UNCARING MAN

We, the developed world, we rape

the rain forests for wood for middleclass homes,

we drill for oil in the Arctic wilderness for our own selfish greed.

We trawl the sees and take the fish for our fat bellies,

uncaring and naïve…

A dozen species are killed off every day, extinct

before their time and now no more but recent history.

Our atmo...

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