Poetry Blogs (2013, disease)
Carcinogenics in every single thing we buy
From our food, clothes, to even our hair dye
Although Europe does indeed do more to try to protect us
America really doesn't seem to give a flying fudge
They have many slimy loop holes which risk our health and safety
Like the fragrance loop hole that has, over these years, affected us far too greatly
They need not disclose chemicals that they use t...
Wednesday 14th November 2018 4:21 am
Once you've been touched by the "C"
You'll no longer ever be free
It stains me, sticks with me
I just want to be released
But I'm haunted by this vicious disease
That aims to end lives, make me deceased
We may halt it, but it never truly leaves
It's tangled within me, lingering in my bloody Genes!
You never know what's lurking underneath
Not everything is always as it seems
It steals y...
Friday 10th August 2018 2:16 pm
If you can check for nasties
To make sure you don't have it
Then why would you say no,
You're silly, opening the door
Saying "hello, come through,"
Or " I'm not scared of you"
The needle might be scary
Or perhaps you're rather weary,
that the procedure they require
Is not one that you desire
It won't be as bad as you fear
When it's over, have a cold beer
A stool sample might ...
Tuesday 24th July 2018 12:41 am
All alone once again
Silence envelopes me
Might drive myself
My loneliness, it seems to
So I have to ask myself
”Is this really who I want to be?”
Want to free my mind,
and just put myself at ease...”
I’ve only lived in life,
Don’t know how to truly feel alive
Think I forgot how to breathe
Happiness? Ha, to me that’s a tease
Monday 5th March 2018 10:05 am
King of the world for my time,
I ruled the world, and in my time
There was no death nor disease
(Except, of course, tooth disease
Which we will conveniently ignore).
My father was the sun, and I was
A simple farmer believing in the
Old ways before I met my destiny.
The creator of all things came to me,
And called me to be a prophet.
He asked me to spread his words,
To make his religion,...
Wednesday 11th January 2017 6:51 am
Oh streets, your weeping cobbles shine
Against the moonlight, wailing sirens
Beckon those that have succumb
To fill your guttered lines with souls.
Blistered, bloated, wandering lost
Through invalid eyes – flies feast
On stale skin, as deep within
The eruptions pulse to a deathly drum.
One by one they fall in line
Upon swarming sewer drains,
Stacked, like broken branches cau...
Wednesday 1st May 2013 11:15 am
Voices of the Andoumboulou
photo credit: George Roberts
Excerpted this from a Disease called Freedom: Whether or not to run was never an option but to run toward or to run from is the constant critical dilemma. What? I asked is there to get inside of and what is there to shed like snake back rainbows? A narrative of questions justifies my stunningly unusual plight and helps me feel more c...
Saturday 1st October 2011 8:11 am
The ticking clock is strangely still,
Was it beacause the mirror smashed and you thought that you had breathed your last.
For the mirror had told you to get out,
it scared you half to death,
the spiders crawled all over the house.
A house of imagination and where imagination drew it's last breath.
The dead came out crawling all over the walls, the monsters to...
Friday 2nd September 2011 9:15 am