Friday 26 December 2014

HEADACHE

my head hurts
From the deafening
Silence between us
And these dying ends of cigarettes
Serve to remind me
of the better boys,
Standing next to you

Wednesday 17 December 2014

PLUG DRAIN

we circle round this plug drain of a place
a drug plain
of wasted men,
painful try hards
and hard boy die hards
lard drips from kebabs
onto our dead scene
every man keeping to himself
for fear of being exposed
as a real human being

when you've seen this,
is there any going back?
to the future, maybe
hoverboards and lost footballs
kicked by the bigger boys
away from our tiny hands
these tiny dancers
given the chance
to kill
or be thrilled
by the illness of a group mentality
the sentimentality beaten out of us,
life presented as a game
(not suitable for ages 18 plus)

DON'T PASS GO
don't know too much
and don't question such gods
as TV, tight jeans and that guy with the better ipod than you

because this is what they'll tell you:
put your head down
and your hands up
struggle through anything that makes you different
be depressed but don't talk about it
be undressed but don't walk around with confidence
be impressed but never give a compliment
bend the rules as much as you can to avoid helping others
trouble is something that happens to another person
so keep your hands clean
and your browser history cleaner
be selfish,
not selfless
unless you're stupid
move on the path of least resistance
shoot down anyone with any weakness
like kindness
or shyness
or saying hi, how are you?
to a stranger
and always remember the danger
of thinking for yourself

we circle round this plug drain of a place
a drug plain
of wasted men,
painful try hards
and hard boy die hards
lard drips from kebabs
onto our dead scene
every man keeping to himself
for fear of being exposed
as a real human being

Wednesday 10 December 2014

4 EYES

he said imagine all the people
but i can't do that when i can't see them
my eyes don't work,
every day they just get worse

yours are his
mine are hers

but all i see
are the blurred lines
of a reality
that's always one step ahead of me

IN LOVE WITH HOW I FEEL

so maybe i'm not in love with you,
just the way i feel
but that doesn't make much difference,
doesn't make it more or less real - 
in fact,
it just makes me ill
and i know that lovesickness is a cliche
but a walking,
talking
cliche
is what i've become

Thursday 4 December 2014

ONLY LONELY

am I scared of being alone
or just refusing to grow up?
scared that if I'm ever alone
i'll know the pain of loneliness
I've only previously heard about
from you
and all the other broken homes

Wednesday 3 December 2014

ZOMBIE

I am a zombie
half dead, half alive
telling the truth and lying
at the same time
trying to live, but waiting to die
and the thing is in this life
if you're not laughing, you're crying
so I pop these limbs back in their sockets,
empty my pockets of last night's treasure
and nurse my hangover
like a post-adolescent Florence nightingale.
the marks her fingernails made
are still on my skin
as I think to myself
what it's like to be living
I realise I'm no longer a man,
but a zombie:
half dead, half alive
telling a truth and lying
at the same time
trying to live,
and
waiting
to
die

Thursday 27 November 2014

DELICATE CYCLE

now I feel ungrateful
too late to appreciate
what I've got
or not looked at all
a fool,
you trust me
open 24/7
sore head
a machine,
leaking,
stuck on a delicate cycle
you pass me by
quietly thinking
what it would be like
to disappear

PIN HEAD

the concrete illuminates
my sorry eyes
the smoke I breathed
the girls that believed me
are gone now
how do you know who I am?
de-pressed,
a button
that's broken
but I'd never choose
to be like this
I'd kiss you
tell you it's fine
and by fine
I mean fucked
but I am the lost soul
I am the selfish son
no meaning in the bottom of a glass
no belief that this will last
no pretending without you
my pin head, pin heart
dead romantic
at this moment,
you mean everything

Thursday 20 November 2014

PEPPERMINT

last night
I had a peppermint lover
2 seconds away
from owing me a drink

Saturday 15 November 2014

AFTER HOURS

this pink mist
cigarettes, on the ground
we pick each other up
and find there's hope
in human heat

after all the
love,
loss
and empty bottles
we realise
the sun's always rising somewhere,
here, there and everywhere

over what we lost
and what we never thought we had

Monday 10 November 2014

CLEARASIL

you're only
as lonely
as much as you know me

never enough
together,
trusting,
trying

dyeing your skin
clear as you cry

Saturday 8 November 2014

I'M OK, YOU'RE OK

I'm ok,
you're ok
and what we have is more
than the days we spent as something else
when here is where you tell me
they need us,
we need them,
more than I think.
fresh feelings
fill what we left,
we see that we're needed
we know that
we know what
we've got

Monday 3 November 2014

HERE IS ALWAYS SOMEWHERE ELSE

here is always somewhere else,
so where does that leave me?
being alone is one thing
but I'm lonelier still
with all these heads
finding mine
amongst all theirs
staring at the shapes
on a brick wall
waiting for here to be all,
to be everything
instead of somewhere else

Friday 31 October 2014

YOU DIE

you die
you die
you die

sometimes
it gives me such a sense of power
to hit a fly
with my fist

but
immediately after
I feel guilty,
as if it wanted me to do it

Wednesday 29 October 2014

FLAMINGO

be a flamingo among pigeons
and when they've made up their minds,
make a different decision
if they've got hair, shave your head
if they're awake, go to bed
and if they're talking, pretend to be dead
if they go right, go left
if they are them and there and then,
then be yourself
and always remember:
you're unique,
just like everyone else

Monday 27 October 2014

GOOD MORNING

waking up in the morning
and wishing that I hadn't
is too much for one man
I can't do this by myself
or anyone else
so where does that leave me?

ANTI-D

it takes more than fucking someone to keep warm
but at the moment
I don't know
what that is
sinking,
lonely,
forgetting you slowly
my antidote
and overdose

Thursday 2 October 2014

KFC

didn't you see,
didn't you know?
some things don't float any more
a dead man's chest
breast,
wings
and thighs
which do you prefer?
Her concrete soul:
suck off
fuck off
today will be better
until my arms fall off
and I walk backwards,
to find them

Tuesday 23 September 2014

LAST ORDERS

all these girls
I've never known
had,
would be the wrong thing to say
overthinking,
because in this twilight sadness
you don't own anything
sickened with myself
for even uttering those words
worth
worthless
and disappointed in myself
for that 2nd pint
I didn't need

Sunday 21 September 2014

TOKYO

this is a high
and with every high
comes a loner
the only one
and everyone
another girl,
another planet,
another handshake
hello, how are you,
what's your name?

dancing with myself
and saving myself
at the same time
Tokyo, take me
make me mine
and make mine a double
but don't love me like you used to
'cause we can choose to be alright

this is a high
this is a low
through both
you're in love
you're lost
you're lonely
but
you're only as far gone
as the next man along
this culture club,
a life that's uncertain
is perfect
in its imperfections

so let me tell you:
this is a high
this is a low
and YOU
are the fluorescence
the next big thing
time,
space
and Tokyo

touch me
once more
and i'll go

Thursday 18 September 2014

HOMESICK

together we're still lonely
only saved by the company we share
sick,
without
and because
of the places we were born
you talk more
and i, less
less than 2 people
but not quite 1
we'll try not to hold hands
and tell each other
that everything will be ok

LET'S WRESTLE

I let you down
let the lipstick on your mouth
fade away
with nothing to replace it
but more promises
of what we'd do tomorrow

MR. BROWN

we sit
and talk
about magicians on TV
and stuff
our faces with another long cigarette
passing it
to pass the time
of day
until we stop feeling guilty
and go to bed

Tuesday 16 September 2014

GIN DRUNK SAD

she's
gin
drunk
sad
glad to forget
regret me not,
tying shoelaces to trip her up
tie her up
turning water into wine
and vodka into wasted time
tear us apart with
love
loss
and ecstasy
one pink pill to make you need another man
down is up
up is down
and you are drunk
so punch me
and we'll go from there
dead until tomorrow
when the bin men come
to wash our sins away

Sunday 14 September 2014

CENTAUR

the light in the tunnel
isn't always a train
me and you tried to make it
not what it was
connected,
a centaur
not seeing our confusion
losing each other
and choosing to ignore what was happening
but
that doesn't matter:
with each happy monday that passes
we'll start to get better
regret nothing,
say something
and tell you
I love you

Thursday 11 September 2014

-ME

you minus me
means an end to the infinite number
of stupid things I say
and if life's a playground
then we're stuck on the swings
the lock,
stock
and smoking barrel of my action
satisfaction
inadequate
at knowing when to stop,
drop,
roll
and pretend to be dead is what i'll do
it's better for both of us
to take me from you

Wednesday 10 September 2014

(Y)

it's torn us apart
like I thought it might
hiding what we're really thinking
drinking instead,
heads down,
thumbs up
I'm a bum,
a creep
a weirdo
and I wish I didn't know
what you think of me

TEARS

tears
for
fears
are only half the story
when the whores in your head
turn out to be pillows
and your morning glory
turns out to be wilting
like the last of the English roses
we really we're posing
for a photo that never happened
and a bloody valentine
who didn't understand
anything we said

Tuesday 2 September 2014

SHORT BURSTS

people are strange
including myself,
that makes at least a few of us
trusting things we shouldn't
buying things we couldn't do without
and building things we don't know how to stop

balls dropping
situations not going where they should
and things we'd do if this or that were different
people are strange
and that's about the only thing
we can be sure about

HAPPY MONDAY

jack off
jack on
step on to what you know
pressing plastic buttons
teenage kicking
sickened 'til you can't see if you're doing it right
or not
as you tell her that she's perfect
she disappears,
one pixel at a time

a cross
and a switchblade
go together better than you think
re-stack the thin line
between what he's made
and you'll find that there's room for improvement
after all

Saturday 30 August 2014

TELL ME WHAT IT'S WORTH

tell me what it's worth
tell me that it's there for a reason
that I'm seeing colours,
throwing shapes
and spitting blood
for some purpose

hold my head
as it's lowered
into this ceramic wasteland
tasting bodily fluids
I didn't know I had
as my body turns inside out
and I cry
like we used to

E(U)ROS

it's not what I think about
all the time
but it's there,
like a drink
warming your stomach
cancer,
caprico,
everything I don't believe in
but belief is a hard thing to master
when the space between your legs
is occupied

I DON'T KNOW

I don't know
what's happening to you
but I wish
it didn't involve
so much shouting

PENNY FALLS

nothing,
nothing,
and nothing
and penny falls
and a dead dog's eyes
at the side of a road
that no one's using
and no one ever will
will he,
won't he?
don't touch me there
like you said you would
you should've done that
when you could
when you killed the moment
the slow club,
dissolved
on my tongue,
tied
like I am to you
we're here,
almost as if we were human
and more than 2 tired skulls
on a lump of cells
less healthy than I've seen before
before nothing
was something
I thought about

POLAR BEAR

I don't want to go like he did
obscurely,
nearly unnoticeably
were it not for everyone knowing

not that I'm afraid of losing my mind
I could lose that as easily as one sock
in every pair I've owned

and i know that all those chemicals
have to go somewhere
I just wish
it wasn't here

BAD BRAIN

give me back
whatever it is
that still works
(i'll connect the dots myself)

seeing clearly now
is relative
to the dawn of the dead people I see
and the definitely maybe
I give to each one of them

I blame my lemon head
throwing acid at myself
selfishness and selflessness
are all too close together, sometimes

and with all the
salt,
pepper
and cocaine
there seems to be a lot less dollars
than days
in this week
so I think i'll lie down
for a bit

Friday 15 August 2014

PSYCHADELIC ERIC

psychedelic eric went to school
on a more than ordinary morning
glorious in all his finery
finally accepting
that the feathers on his face
were there to stay
as fascinating as a friday afternoon was
he had too much to dream
and not enough time to lose

0

back here again
where we'll keep drinking
'til we feel something
even if it's nausea
talking to each other
across a stained carpet
faster and less intelligible as we go on
another night of nothing
that we don't like
and never did

Saturday 26 July 2014

TOO DRUNK TO DREAM

why can I not sleep
without 4 cans inside me?
and even then,
so pitifully
too drunk
to dream
tossing,
turning myself off
factory reset
for a factory reject
wishful thinking
mentally listing
the things that displease me
deceiving myself
in believing these thoughts are important
with the warpaint
of ever unnecessary night food
on my chin
all the tea in china is irrelevant
when you'd rather opium instead
to blow my mind
and suck my head
appearing dead
but still painfully aware
of problems that aren't problems
and the double vision
that comes each night
when the drink's done its job and I'm tired
lying to myself that tonight,
i'll sleep sober

KIDS

who are you?
loitering
on concrete steps
with the obscenities
and cheap ecstasy
of a part-time lover
LOWER YOUR VOICE,
lift your knuckles off the ground
and allow me
to teach you
some manners

.COM

buying things,
dying things
waking up this morning
to the
click
click
click
of a bulletproof nothing
something's got me,
inside out
the proud stance
of the last few magic numbers to my name

AT SEA

worse things happen at sea,
you tell me
but
if I was at sea
at least I could drown.

Monday 21 July 2014

MAGICK

I'm not as sorry
as I know you are
those reds and blues you took
took you far away from me
and our teenage fantasies of Brooklyn
died in our arms
just like you did,
3 days later
 
ashes to ashes
dust to Dustin Hoffman
you stopped breathing
the minute the TV went off
eyes bleeding toxic waste
waiting for collection
with the
love
sex
magick
 
without tears

Tuesday 8 July 2014

DOG MAN

fuck it
i'll put my tail between my legs
and walk away
people like you
find it easy
to please me
but it's difficult to please myself
when everything around me is annoying
and my toys don't entertain me like they...
should do
would do
could do
KILL ME
with spilt coffee on a white shirt
and all the other meagre tragedies
of a 5 day week

DNA

"everything in moderation"
but I bet you didn't have THIS in mind
when you said that
sat in the quietest room
of a dying party
partaking in narcotic games
just to stay out of trouble

1 human,
sold as scene
but the soul will cost you extra
slightly used,
soiled by what you gave me
when you made me more
than the quickest sperm
and the learning process
of your 29 years

kill me
and start again
with your undertones of sarcasm,
orgasms of patronising sentences
which I defended
with juvenile philosophies,
vomit
and mistakes

from my circles to yours
boring you
with tales of the unexpected
hiding from you
with sex and upset relatives
(it's all relative)
bring out your dead
and give me paracetamol
for the headache that we share

then maybe we'll set straight a few things
train track braces
for the crooked teeth of our relationship
or maybe i'll remain
the little shit you love
we'll look back to the sun
and turn to salt
to go with the fries
from another dying service station
along the
deoxy
ribo
nucleic
acid
trip we're on


MOLECULES

sometimes I forget myself
this self-inflicted sickness
of picture perfect moments
missing the point
that silence is golden

no noise
no woman
no wave

save our souls
if there's any left
shave our heads
if you think it's right
or wrong:
21 years by yourself
before you met a selfish son
running in sexual circles
warning you of what's to come

molecules
testicles
colliding
trying to fuck
overlooking the fact
that I don't know
what to do

you scare me
it's early,
and I think too much
drink too much
or maybe not enough
to stop the self destructive tendencies
of a molecule like me

CHECK ON

I find myself
with my feet on the air
and head on the ground
the consciousness
rounded
the stainless
painful
steel
to my skin
fingernails encrusted with other people's leisure
and careless conversation
club soap
white heat
and endless wine
drunk to the point of tiredness
confessing of my ignorance
to the fat man with perspiration
armpits,
breasts:
swollen
made holy in their generosity
holes in their pockets
they walk out,
ashamed

check on
check on

the next one to die
gets to go home early

ANGELHEAD

you think you're the bees knees,
don't you?
well please,
let me suggest
that you're only the best
at being an asshole

holy only in you're cracked smile
meanwhile
your mick jagger swagger
impresses no one
a rolling stone gathers no moss
but you seem to have gathered
all the kate moss wannabes
screaming victims of heroin chic
clinging to your ripped jeans
and make believe bands

so why, in moments of weakness,
do I want to be like you?
before realising
I'm just the dog shit on your Chelsea boots

your nonchalance is nothingness
your macho-ness is meaningless
your bullshit bursts my spleen

listen to me as I tell you how pretty you are
with your platitudes and panda eyes
thighs wrapped around her loneliness
your phoniness is killing us

i'll catch you in the rye
and poke you in the eyeballs
you're a ballache
hiding behind your fine taste
and tiny eyes
wide,
as you bore us with stories of hallucinations
I wish you'd trip right down the stairs

like the howling man said
you're an angry fix
burning
with bearded delight
lighting your cigarette so smugly it hurts me
I wish you'd see
the painful glamour
of the wanker
you've become

YOU'RE GOLDEN

you're golden,
man
not the golden brown of what you put in your arm
but your pound coin aura
(you're worth an infinite amount of them)
and I wish you'd believe it
but your glass isn't half empty
or half full
you threw it on the floor
now you're drinking from the bottle instead

nearly headless
with the less than questionable sense of consciousness you get
from all the wrong places
like the men behaving badly
trying to appropriate from you what's yours

sat on pink concrete
pins and needles
needlessly surrounding you
as you try to understand how you got here
wishing you were her
wishing you were golden

Saturday 14 June 2014

BRICKS

every time I pull one out
another one falls into its place
making my head spin
thinking about all those things
to the point of personal explosion
momentarily losing myself
to the tetris days we're falling into

Tuesday 3 June 2014

KETAMINE KATE

ketamine kate, do you care to explain?
you used to be a woman of integrity
now you're leading a life
that between you and me
can only go one way
(and it's not left, right or up)
maybe it's much ado about nothing
or maybe i just care too much
what they think about you
 
ketamine kate
you proudly told me your name
not that you should be ashamed
but have the grace and wastelands of this town
taught you nothing?
unless the lesson you learnt
was to turn back around
from all the opportunities that came your way
or maybe they never gave you any
and the many man knocked you down
before you could understand why
the high-flying birds
are nothing compared
to the 808 state you're always in when i find you
trying to associate yourself
with your dissociated mind
and the society of lying bastards
that you're sadly a part of
all gladly partaking
in the fucked up olympics
you call your weekdays and ends
heat seeking to keep you from speaking your mind
while the shiny happy people piss you off
the poppers and purple hearts
don't get you off like they used to,
do they?
 
you might still be a child at heart
but it's not '94 any more, kate
and i know you hate how you've become
outnumbered
by the runaways around you
and the sounds of silence that meet you
in the rare moments you're sober

but whatever katy did,
now it's over
as her heartbeat slows down
to 10 a minute
then none
learning too late how much her name would cost her
as her friends look down
and realise they've lost it all
they go through her pockets
and rack up another line
on the plastic floor

WARFARIN

why bother with non-stop actions
when nowadays it's better to die having not tried anything
than to try at all?
all the apathetic ones
trying to mind our own business
as the big business pushes us under buses
trust words and trust no one,
you're only on top of the world when you're at the north pole

i'm rolling in it
(shit, that is,
not money)
ruling everything around me like tutankhamun
armed with whatever i can fit in a plastic bag
and if that's my head then i'm ready,
the holes they put in it is the only thing stopping me
cutting my losses
and dropping off what you gave me

- a neat gin and warfarin
to make it go quickly,
quicker than he did

Sunday 1 June 2014

SAY ANYTHING

all our dopamine
hopes and dreams
confuse me.
excuse me while I throw up,
because growing up is easy
when things please me like they do today
but maybe
tomorrow will be different
and the difficulty of thinking it through
will move me sideways,
less like a high 5
more like the floor,
moving underneath me

understanding the big easy
the way you see it,
with my itchy feet,
is nothing
when you're thinking of all the ways
your ankle could break.
learning from my mistakes
like a kid taking time to ride a bike,
but they don't make stabilisers for real life situations
so take my money
and run away

they say we're good for nothing
but nothing's all I've got
what'll we do with the costume party days we're in?
and with the sinking feeling I get when I stand up
and the double dutch
which isn't much use
when I can't speak
and you can't hear
him,
her
or anyone

2,
3
bodies with 1 heart
starting to think this was a bad idea
nearly clearing the room when I open my mouth
and hitting my head when I open the door
surely £10 wasn't worth it?
when all we do is burn what we get
and play with our heads,
Gameboys and girls
holding steady
getting ready
for everything to hurt when we wake up,
turning to reach for what we grew from
when we knew that the problem was the solution

but if 2 opposites are the same
then 2 sides of my brain are in trouble.
blowing bubbles can't save us now
so clap your hands 'til they fall off
and cough up your lungs 'til they blow up,
throw up again
and bend it like anything
because devil tricks
for a bitch
will catch up with us soon
screwing us over
like the screws in your new leg

tell me I'm more than the horror stories
and paranoia
that made us
let me trust you when you say we're ok
and maybe i'll sleep before 4am
and say I'm sorry to my body for the things we've done
and the fights we won but
didn't have to
smashed knees and broken teeth along the way
say something,
say anything
before it's too late

Saturday 17 May 2014

TELESCOPES

the thing is...
I can't help thinking
of the things we never did
and the things I said
but didn't follow through
and I'm scared that will happen
this time with you
because being scared is easy,
holding onto it is hard
(and I'm hardly trying not to),
locked on to a love that won't last
if I don't stop being the martyr
I've started to become
young gun
with the sun in my sights
and telescope eyes,
crying lightning for her
suck it up and spit it out:
you're a man now,
a man who's head over heels
with the reoccurring version of events
that led to this mess
in the first place

Friday 16 May 2014

X

they say they're all for united kingdom independence
when i think we should be dependent on each other
not to disrespect a man or woman for where they come from,
not to make peace with bombs,
and not to fall to pieces because of the wrongs of others we've invented:
a vent for the closet racists that are costing us our respect for each other
another hateful letter through the post,
posing as politics,
and i swear i'll stop caring
expecting an X on the paper to make things better
when i've been let down and lied to
by the people who said they'd try to make a difference
to the riots and the fighting on the street
to keep what we can
whilst everything else is being handed to the privileged few,
a silver plate matching the silver spoons in their mouths
and lacking any thought for the everyman like me and you

not that i'm doing badly myself,
i just see so much hate and loveless lovemaking around me
that,
sometimes,
it seems making a difference is more difficult
than turning water into wine
(when the last guy tried that it didn't exactly turn out alright)
trying to believe in that when rats the size of dogs are all the papers care about
allowing the things that really matter to slip through their fingers
thinking that hacking a dead girls phone is ok
that the BNP are making a good point
that royalty means loyalty to giving everything to baby george
well BULLSHIT
it's sitting on the fence like we are that's led to this mess
and i feel powerless:
how can one man make a difference?
the jam said that's entertainment
but i want more,
i want to be sure that people will keep fighting the things we find unfair
that we'll care about more than the boring things that fill our days
and the hazy smoke of our friday nights in
i want to know that there's hope over the broken social scene we're stuck in
something in all this that's worth the worthless people dying inside for
as they try to have their say

i want more than to complain
i want to raise the bar for what we can do
prove it's more than just pissing behind a skip when saturday night's lost its charm
the CALM DOWN DEAREST
and nearly falling over,
overcompensating for the way things are
and the parties of tomorrow that slow down
when we realise we didn't try hard enough
and trusted the wrong men to lead us
when all they did was teach me
not to feel guilty
about the misery
of those less fortunate
but i know that all i have to speak my mind
is 2 intersecting diagonal lines
in a square
that no one cares
or gives a SHIT
if i fill in

A MATADOR

sometimes i feel like a matador
sorting you lot from left right and centre,
my red flag ignored as per usual
as useful as the broken glasses that lie on our floor,
another job for the matador
adore me
but my flaws will still leave a sour taste in your mouth:
how's that for an accolade?

LA LA LOVE YOU
but love's only skin deep
so keep dreaming, androids,
of electric sheep
then at least you'll be counting them
instead of the fleeting moments that you actually see me
in between the seemingly meaningless moods
that dictate my day

if something good will come
then you'll be first in line,
china shop distractions surround you
and fresh feelings of 48 hours ago
as you forgo the friends we made
by creating scenes of a violent nature
waiting for our future to unroll
just a soul clap away from certain calamity
you come at me with broken arms
but flexing can only get you so far
when you're a human heart attack like you
a suit and tie can't hide the horror on your face
as you face backwards:
does pot kettle black ring any bells?

respect me
and i'll respect you
i try to see through you
but i can't,
so i acquiesce instead
but righteousness can only get you so far
i'm in the dark about your high and mighty feelings
clearly we need to talk
before we walk too far down this road
of cat fights,
broken bones
and biting my head off,
coughing with innocent surprise
defending your lies and disguising your guilt
killing my questions
with your questionable level of responsibility
tricking me into forgetting
that it's YOU i'm angry at
attaching myself to the unhealthy habit
of talking behind backs and closed doors

falling over myself to help you
when you helped yourself to what i had
i've had enough of being pushed around
like a human merry-go-round
each rotation making it harder to hit you back,
back to reality as you continue to be
my red flag friend
and i wait for it to happen
all over again

Sunday 11 May 2014

HEARTSINK

I'm sorry
that you hate this place and the slow pace of life that you and I got used to
I'm sorry
that I'm useless at the things that bring you the rolling stone satisfaction you call happiness
and as much as a rebranded man I am now,
this is what it always comes down to:
a hundred apologies and boring monologues from me
not seeing red but red-faced from the effort of chasing up the loose ends I left you with
and the aforementioned tendency to be a dick head/
accidentally like I said
but that makes no difference, does it?
indifferent to the differences between us
you want to trust a man who can barely put his trousers on without falling over/
lowering the bar,
setting it so low
that doing the limbo with me would break your back/
back to where we started
square 1,
2,
3,
4,
5 months
of velvet underground moments
until I learnt that looking back is a futile action/
a new romantic reaction to the metaphorical slap to the face you gave me
(even though you didn't mean to)
I know that, but knowledge is not what we need
needlessly stating the facts
when the fact is:
we fucked up
up the bracket and down the stairs to the
"SHUT THE FRONT DOOR"
you were so sure of saying

the thing is
my apologies can only do so much
with the biology between us/
waiting at bus stops
stopping to think how i'm wasting your time
like the white wine I drunk when you left
and the expectation on your face/
exhausted from expecting more
more or less letting love tear us apart
look what I've started:
blue screens of death and
another endless summer of
"we can still be friends"
when the thing is
I MISS YOU
not the toothpaste kisses
or pissing with the door open
but just knowing you,
showing you that age is just a number,
a number that numbs us
with every year that passes/
as the heartsink
and pink squares
fade away

Monday 5 May 2014

CLOUD 9

what are these repetitive electronic noises?
the sonic youth of our annoying generation,
the walking dead of our weekends:
is it just me or am I repeating myself?
revolution number 9/
on cloud 9 again
as we pretend this never happens
when actually,
it's not the first re-enactment of the night
nor the last
we hide behind the go faster stripes of glitter
on our shit-stained faces/
facing up to the fact
that there's some things shiny bits of plastic can't cover
and 2 lovers entwined in each other's thighs behind a burger van
isn't remotely romantic
but the pinnacle of the hopeless antics we're expected to perform
 
great expectations aren't so great when we're expected to supply:
acts of mediocre violence,
getting high
and trying to score another notch on the bedpost/
hoping you'll grow out of the phase you're going through
even though it's been going strong
for a decade too long
already,
steady,
cook
your brain slowly
over 30 days of a cruel summer:
a bananarama nightmare
frightening when you think that last night
the pink lights of the portaloo
were enough to keep you amused for hours,
distracted from the grandeur of the day:
more fake than gold teeth
or the beef in the Tesco ready meal you've already thrown up/
a grown up but slowly dying modern man
standing on the soft bulletin beneath you
trying to understand how 4 fingers and 1 thumb makes a hand/
at least until it's in your pocket
with all the other things that you forgot/
the rocks of whatever you cleverly hid in your sock can't help you now
as cowboys and Indians spin round your head
you get head then get hurt/
learning that her fur coat is as real as she is
and jesus is just another man with a fag in his mouth,
standing over there,
caring less about you than he ever did/
in the strange,
strange
reality
we call the twilight sadness of this place

Friday 2 May 2014

MEMBER

this useless organ
is more than just the end of my non-muscular torso/
a masculine symbol falling
like static pink water
from the last remains of my childish fantasies/
handing the baton over to you,
consecutively losing each person
and struggling to function
from the modern day smoke and mirrors
that hinder our interest
in these games of boys and girls/
toying with thoughts of inadequacy
as you ask me "what's wrong?"/
the longitude and latitude
of the map my bed's become
crossing at all the wrong moments,
momentarily thinking
of the 5th limb that is my member/
before remembering the responsibility
that unfortunately comes
with wielding this weapon
that can be so much more persuasive than sword
or pen
but in between such highs of confidence,
I'm forced to remember
that my member
just means membership
to the WHEN WILL HE TEXT ME BACK
and the empty meanwhiles
of the nights it entertains

Wednesday 30 April 2014

I'M TIRED

it's days like this when sleep seems imperative/
not necessarily the answer to my problems
but
a way of shutting them off,
temporarily stopping this soft machine that i inhabit
and if there's somone next to me,
they're obviously lost/
polka dot impressions of you on my skin,
as i sink deeper into the cheap thrills that distract me

Tuesday 29 April 2014

NEON NEON

if love is a verb,
then what am i doing?
pissing away yesterday's excess
when i should be making the most of it/
sitting on the fence,
bent double,
in trouble again
lending a hand with barely posable thumbs/
disposable income,
disposable lighters,
a whole generation of disposable items
passing the time
just to find out we've wasted it
wasted again
(as per usual)
choosing to do this
because it's easier than being proactive/
actively avoiding the responsibility they gave us,
saying we're too young
when we're old enough
to make the wise choice
to shove those white lies up our collective nose,
hoping we'll find something better to do
before we're in too deep/
yellow submarines
in our own sea of chemicals,
smelling the coffee long after we stop waking up/
up is down,
down is up,
and i am drunk/
same old story
death, glory and beans on toast/
knowing that milk with knives in
couldn't revive us now/
head in the clouds
of smoke that fills the room/
losing my edge like i lost this bet with sobriety:
why can't I be you?
and
why can't i choose life
over this high society i find myself in?
spinning faces and such high falls from grace
that i'm scared we've broken a leg/
well,
good luck and fuck forever is all you said
(i'll bear that in mind next time i'm trying to find you
in the neon night time places we habituate these days)
paper planes pass us by,
over our heads
like the death of our salesman friends
from the endless lines they've become accustomed to/
losing their minds like it's going out of fashion
trash talk their only language/
barely managing to string a sentence together
before we pass out
arse over tit
as we try to outsmart the things we've become/
and the drinks we spilt to get there
not caring is our ambition,
missing in action as the undeniable facts are laid bare/
effortlessly falling up the stairs to my bed
rightly thinking that these neon nights
were dead before we started/
half-hearted conversations pale into insignificance
among the stimulants
that have become an imminent part of the way we function/
drunk and disorderly is what they call us
but trust me,
the problem's more complex than that/
looking back at the men we were
before the sex,
drugs
and sausage rolls/
rolling over backwards
to scratch your back
while you stab me in mine/
as you find
that our vices
have put a price on our heads/
and empty beds
are no compensation
for the way we paved
for all the other
good vibrations
of these
neon
night time
places

Wednesday 23 April 2014

HIDE + SEEK

you like to think that you're an expert in everything,
nursing your own pride
to hide the fact
that you're pretending:
who needs friends when you've got enemies?
telling me this, telling me that/
apocalypse now is nowhere near how I feel around you sometimes,
patronising me to disguise
how it's a hide and seek situation/
waiting for your one ups to get a man down,
my mistakes are what make you stick around/
sticks and stones are nothing,
but your words piss me off:
right and wrong become a one on one argument,
asking myself why I bother with a know-it-all like you/
truth be told I'm through with your billy liar triumphs
of empty words and tip-ex corrections,
flexible facts as long as you have to be right/
your pedantics make me retch
check my pulse and if it's still beating I won't keep you from killing me/
anything to keep me from the dull reality that your company's become
because there's always one who has to be difficult
and for some reason,
that's always been you

you like being right more than being liked/
but some of us aren't so self-righteous
and,
like I said,
better not to be smart but pleasant instead:
use your head to know when to drop the subject/
I accept that I make mistakes too,
but taking 2 to tango is one thing
and thinking you're better than the whole floor of dancers is another
(i'll punch you in the oesophagus if you talk for much longer)
SORRY
that I'm an idiot
but I'm not blessed with a photographic memory like you/
2 heads are better than one
but not when one head is dead from the brain down/
after all the hows and whys have been explained
by such a wise guy like you/
please,
just choose to shut your mouth once in a while/
I'm not trying to run some kind of fascist regime,
I just mean that we'd get on better if you didn't shoot me down/
doubting the intelligence that although I might hide well
is not something for someone like you to question
unless you have that sarcastic streak removed
(maybe a lobotomy would do the job)

I know I'm exaggerating,
making a big deal,
but this really is the only way I could tell you
to get a word in edgeways
without naming names
or laying in to your rain man tendencies.
I'm sorry that you caught me on a bad day,
let's say we both try to be kind, rewind,
remind ourselves that a friendship is worth it/
shit discos aside
let's decide
to get on with it
together in sickness and health/
breathalyser days behind us
as we try and find meaning
in our daydreams
and make believe games
of hide and seek

I'M A VAMPIRE

it used to be all sandcastles
and video nasties
but it's not that simple any more/
if you asked me why,
I couldn't divulge if I tried
tie dye days and the things we said are over/
I'm sorry, I overestimated myself and did it again,
repetition of the same old tricks/
well
here's one I made earlier
and I'm a vampire,
can you tell?
memory tells me I'm just your problem
and problems are parallel
but right now our wires are crossed,
costing us our little talks/
that's what I get for walking away, I guess/
"no rest for the wicked" they said
and it's only now that I know they weren't joking,
hoping my metaphorical fangs will fall off/
with the probability of soft porn and wasted weekends imminent
I become irrelevant,
living without your big big love and colour tv/
believe me, I'd love to
but it's not that simple, is it?
best intentions still lend themselves
to a means to an end
just like heaven you're not helping that cause
and you're talking to a man
who can just as easily turn into a bat
as save ourselves from this mess/
maybe we didn't help or maybe we got dealt a shit hand:
sad handshake, bloodshake, taking what's yours
just because I know what happened
and the worse thing is
that I don't care/
because I'm a vampire, can you tell?
well, I thought we'd be here for a while
but now I know
that I'm just your problem
and you're just mine
how this keeps happening is a mystery to me/
green tea and heated conversation can't save us now
so how about you take that crucifix you call compromise
'til the sun rises
over all the parties of tomorrow
and all the lonely people
learn from what we've done

MR. HYDE

dazed and confused/
daisy chains and choosing sides
with mr. hyde and me
blue cheese,
cold knees,
jesus
this happened quickly/
kicking myself,
putting up shelves,
shit-scared of what we’ve started
and where we’ve been
if teenage kicks are nothing these days
then mr. hyde should be my name/
shameless, blaming you for tricks and treats
in the red light district,
trying to distinguish
what makes her distinctive/
having difficulty thinking where to put my foot next
let alone what to do with a girl like her/
certain things are definite
but I've risked it twice before
just to find out that we’re not infinite
and there’s no limit
to the number of times I can fuck it up/
insisting it’s your fault
when,
really,
I’m the destructive one:
godzilla, king kong and all the other monsters of my childhood are nothing
compared to the string of disappointments I’ve become
I'm better off dead than dancing with myself:
introspection at its best/
well,
congratulations,
you’ve made yourself a priority/
sorry just doesn’t cut it any more
when the warning of wet paint you already lent on
is as necessary as the pain you caused her,
not just her cross to bear but yours as well/
you can run but you can’t hide
because in this life it’s all the same,
this modern age, modest mouse, detached house disaster
already meeting you in the form of a bored yawn,
asking you for a last chance before answering with the shrug I’ve become accustomed to,
not knowing that I killed her inside,
sliding the I don’t know between her spare ribs/
in a catch 22 with the cold stare shared
and the hot air between us
and YOU
are my mr. hyde,
psychocandy,
psycho killer,
godzilla,
king kong
and all the other monsters of my childhood
who are nothing
compared to the string of disappointments I’ve become

Tuesday 25 March 2014

BUBBLES

last year
I was a bit of a boy in a bubble
forever blowing them as well
we all were,
for better or worse/
rose tinted spectacles hurting our eyes
making a spectacle of ourselves
well
that's just what we did
I thought the sun shone out your arse
and it did, for a bit
your bitchy resting face didn't bother me
but maybe there was more to it than just a face
wait
that sounds bitter/
i'll hit myself so you don't have to
and show myself out
 
the truth is,
people change
and people are strange
stranger than the doors of perception
or electric sheep
"keep dreaming, honey"
you said
because you're not going to send me back to where I came from
unless I'm very much mistaken
time travel is still impossible
not that I'd want to go back anyway
it's all water off a duck's back
and that's it
 
slow claps
from a slow club/
something to do with barnacles,
bus rides
and mother's day
you said
red red wine
not feeling as fine as we used to
excuse me, can I get past?
past, present and future are similar
except you're only in one of them
(I think)
pink elephants dance round my head/
empty bed blues
choosing to finally cut ties with you
suit and tie disasters
and
kitchen sink dramas
the dalai lama's wisdom couldn't help us right now/
shouting obscenities in foreign supermarkets
starting to realise
that this ride was a one way journey
great train robbery/
robbing us of our ability to sit down and talk
I know for sure
that we're done now/
i'll count my blessings,
put all my eggs in one basket
and ask you for one last robot dance
before the bubbles that we blew
burst at last

Monday 24 March 2014

CLOCKWORK ORANGE

look
I know that time
is the most annoying thing to wait around for
counting down the days/
'til the next blue Monday
intent on presenting yourself
with no other options/
if god doesn't work in mysterious ways
then something does,
because life is strange
stranger than fiction/
addicted to the things that distract you
from actually moving on
i know i belong wherever you are/
but right now I'm clueless
as to where that might be

I know that time,
ticking away
the moments
that make up a dull day
drives you crazy/
time flies
tick tock
like a clockwork orange
"stop" you said/
every second,
minute
or hour
wasted as things go nowhere/
losing the will
to even kill
a fly trying to escape
through the closed windows
of your home sweet home,
getting more sour
with every hour that you wait
but waiting is worth it
I served my time too/
on trial for my own thoughtcrime
(1984 all over again)
waiting for the spiders in my brain
to stop making cobwebs
and fuck off instead/
hell on earth you call it
i know that's what it might seem like
sometimes
but over time
the possibility of life without electric wires
and crying in corners
becomes all the more likely
 
eventually
you won't care if Monday's blue,
Tuesday's grey
and Wednesday too/
because a new day is just around the corner
cornershop
forget me not
chocolate nights
and days where the blood in your veins
seems a distant memory
alive/
regardless of the enemy,
the future,
mad dogs
and Englishmen
finally letting yourself believe
(after all this time)
that
"things aren't always quite what they seem"
and
"there's more than one given angle to any one given scene"
and the scene you're in
is between you and me
scene and not heard,
subcultured
and in love with the girl next door
not care free but caring less
about the suggestion box inside your head/
knowing you're not better off dead
but instead
knowing that time is a healer,
dealing with problems is good for your health
and sometimes
it's ok to spend the seconds,
minutes
and hours
on yourself

Sunday 23 March 2014

MISFITS

all my misfits
I miss you
since you've been gone/
the rest of us go on and on
long days
dog days
in a daze
as we try to remember
why we bother
you're my brothers and sisters
and somewhere along the line
a part of you died
I don't know why
or where to find it/
but I know that no friend
or enemy
can prevent you from finding it again
 
red wine and cigarettes
didn't help
but try using yourself,
you're stronger than you think
and it seems ridiculous to me
(not to be selfish)
how you see yourself
because I see so much beauty
and movements that move me
in a seldom seen kid like you

I can't say pull your socks up
(it's got nothing to do with what you wear with your shoes)
but don't lose sight of knowing
that you're not on your own
believe me, I've been there,
playing noughts and crosses on my own arm/
harming my head more than anything else

so to all the underachievers
and daydream believers
please,
see what I'm saying
never feel guilty for praying to false gods
or paying someone in your time
it takes a while to adjust
and accept it's a part of us
for better or for worse
 
hurting yourself can seem like an easy way out
but please
take time to scream off concrete towers,
know that you're not broken,
that if you can't beat them
you don't have to join them
and I hope that you'll divide the joy
enough to have some for yourself

Saturday 22 March 2014

CRYSTAL FIGHTER

heartbeats,
hot streets,
beach king/
sleeping with the window open.
new hope,
han solo,
looking at your face I know
that you and me/
we're going places
you're my crystal fighter
and my friend

chipped tooth,
sunlight moving
through my curtains/
dead flowers
and robot men/
all the memories
of you already.
tea leaves,
strange dreams/
you and me,
we're going places
doc martens
with yellow laces
wasting no time to pretend you're someone else:
you're my crystal fighter
and my friend

meeting you accidentally
elastic bands
and funny feet/
telling me that I'm alright
despite the stupid things I say/
churlish may
and birthday parties
knowing me,
knowing you
throwing knives
and fire alarms
starting to know
not to forget
that you're my crystal fighter and my friend

Friday 21 March 2014

STICKS + STONES

sticks and stones have broken his bones before
he's been on the floor,
calling out to all the gods he's believed in
(believe me, I've seen it)
only taking what he needs
no more, no less
blessing the fists and baseball bats that beat him
(beat on the brat)
actually
"the colder it gets the warmer we feel"
he said
and I really believe that
believing is half the battle
(maybe even 3 quarters)
and all the daughters in the world
couldn't hate him/
safety in numbers
running up that hill,
killing the demons inside him

somehow
sticks and stones don't hurt him/
burning the bridges that burnt him before
"drop that tear in the ocean"
he said
and when they find it you'll stop caring
and sharing the empathy you have for me
and all the others on this flea-bitten planet
then he called me turquoise/
a boy, a man and everything in between
but that means nothing to me/
because right now
he is he as you are he as you are me
and we are all together
little things like the metal in his dimples
are what makes him human,
dancer,
father
and friend/
wishing on bones that ended long ago
when he chose not to fight but to fly/
jonathan seagull, beagles and black legs
it's all in the past and the faster we slowed down
we found that there's blood in a stone
after all

breezeblocks are no obstacle
the probability of life at sea and gin in teacups
all the more likely/
pointing the finger is easy
when it's attached to your hand/
walking faster and brown parcels are your priority
(sorry you feel that way)
what I'm saying is that he's a friend
put simply he's just another person like you/
looking lost but probably more found
than you like to admit
it's a superman/kryptonite kind of situation
one that i'll take with me wherever I go
so,
sticky - this one's for you
for truth, love and vodka
thank god you're here/
hearing what we all have to say
and (in a strange way)
we're the wayward strangers
who wish we could be more like you
blue lights
street lights
lighting a cigarette as you tell us you love us
well,
a bit of trust goes a long way
and my days would be a lot worse/
without your shotgun weddings,
jogged memory
and shaved head
terry lee
I'm only trying to remind you
that whatever's behind us can't cause pain
and the light at the end of the tunnel
isn't always a train