A child
talking black
to their parents
acting out of character
arguing about upbringing
taken back
some things are best left unsaid…

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smoking barrels
in talks —about the past
around the campfire

you could cut the tension with a knife

the only thing needed is a good sense of humor

And,
…try not to lose your self along the way

the buddy system
marching—
side by side
do you trust that man with your life?
willing to take a bullet for them?
behind every great man is a great woman…

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Facing the abyss, I see the crime
The city bared to its dark mime
Crime’s the mirror of misery shown
A lament in minds, forlorn and alone

Streets stage a silent, somber play
Where spilled blood speaks of more than decay
It’s the soul torn by indifference’s might
And the law, once justice, fades from sight

The poor, martyrs to their cruel fate
Trade their dignity for crumbs on a plate
...

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This just in
The faulty firing pin — from a fire arm
had become dislodged
effectively,
causing it to misfire

very briefly …
in acceptance of all responsibility
the city-state committee
has sent a representative
that will be answering questions

now… back to you

in other news
we have a sunny forecast

there’s a color shader
right there, on
this heat map
that has an infrared si...

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social justice is a class act
talking is a social class act
a crime is a class act
talking a crime is talking a social crime
talking a crime is talking a social justice
justice is a social justice
justice is a social crime

justice is a class act
a social justice is a social class act
the talk of a crime is the talk of a petty crime
a petty crime is a petty class act
crime is a petty c...

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— Recurring

crime seen in your eyes,
reflecting - eyelids
singed… deep, froze
and framed with pain
the negatives
of a photographic memory,
an outlook not unlike,
questioning, asking myself
what have I done?
what am I doing with my life?
what could I have done different?

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I run through the streets in the dark of the night, 
A black hoodie, sharp trainers, a knife for the fight
No morals or goodness left in my soul
Others money , phones,  wallets,  my only goal.

Smoking and drinking, not school do I care
I live on the streets, do ought for a dare
A vandal , graffiti, the life of a villian 
My future is bars, held in a cold prison 

My childhood was taken,...

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To write a couple of lines I am inclined,

About a cat, sat on my front-door mat,

That was or was not, victim of a crime.

There in a box it sat, and that was that!

Or so I thought; then wrote a few more lines.

That’s not my cat, it is Herr Schrödinger's!

Is it quite dead, or is it doing fine?

Are Cheshire cats renowned malingerers?

Your answers to my questions I invite;

...

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a cry is a crime shame
a laugh is a crime shame
a laugh is a laughter of a crime shame
a laugh cry a laughter
laugh is laughing at a crying laughter
laugh is laughing at a crime shame
a shame is a crying shame

a crime shame is a crying shame
a drop of tear is a drop of laughter
a tear is a tear of laughter
a tear is a tear drop of laughter
a cry is a tear drop of a cry
a cry is a tea...

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In my entire life,
the worst things to come
upon me,
has come at the,
hands of respectable
people, who call themselves
good.

It has not been,
scary men, in dark shadows.
It has not been,
those people, across the sea.
It has not been,
the conman, stealing my soul.

It has been,
men and their wives,
who own businesses,
and lands,
and courts,
and governments,
and religions,
too...

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her smile came so easily

before I could even blink,

she made my heart race

brought me to the brink

dress slipped off so easily

mysore silk of jade green,

the body of a svelte and

molten Myanmar queen

her love given so easily

from a brimming chalice,

no passion ever rivalled

what oozed from Alice

slipped away so easily

with barely a mumur,

pe...

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Armed men"

In the middle of a cold night,
Hands clutched on our lovers
And our lovers on us
Birds in a distant singing gleeful songs,
Stars smiling down on us
Everything flowing in its own tranquility.
Then, we heard gun shots
and our heartbeat became still
We ran towards the window
Peeping cautiously so they don't see our eyes.
We saw them,
men in black with bloodshot eyes and a har...

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Repitition was key

But never the key to success

The key to her chest

Was hidden in the black depth of her soul

Repitition was inevitable

Outsiders were impatient

And also knowledgable 

About what was likely to happen next

Repitition was boring

A different mask for her to wear

To hide the recurring sadness

That she endured from his actions again

Re...

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Between the last customer

and morning light

in the parking lot of the Korean Gentleman's Club,

he picks lilacs for me.

Standing high against a warehouse wall,

these always bloom early, and 

he goes annually, covertly, in the still dark,

unsure of welcome by the

Korean Gentlemen.

He fills the car.

I imagine that damp, spring-scented ride home,

his fantasy of be...

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"My how you've grown"

Said the kindly old dear.

"Last time I held you

you burped in my ear.

The truth of the matter

I just have to say

it's been twenty long years

since they put me away.

It's a long stretch of time

which I passed saving stamps

but that's what they gave me

for killing your Gramps.

I know you're an orphan

'cause I poisoned y...

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It’s best to sneak up on the reader.

Change the meter,

Change the rhyme,

Change the tone,

Or change the subject.

Try to do something unexpected,

Like confessing a crime

Or secret perversion,

Even in a

Short poem.

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Isn't imprisonment enough?
Without the guards being too rough
And forever being cuffed
Prisoners  are abused and raped
Every damn single day
As if they haven't already paid
By being held captive and afraid.

Isn't imprisonment enough?
Without being forced to confess
To somebody else's mess
Being stripped and undressed
Every damn single day
As if they haven't already paid
By bein...

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Noel and Liam have still not made up

And it looks like the millers will
never win the cup
Theresa is still in number ten
And not much has changed since
Maggies den
We are still plagued with mass unemployment
Far too many are becoming insolvent
Everywhere people sleeping on the street
Too many families with nothing to eat
Still we can't bridge the north south divide
People still wait f...

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With so much hurt and hatred prevalent in society,
It seems like crimes such as murder, rape, and kidnapping might be
Everyday cliches surrounding us entirely.
I feel as if no other news is ever happening,
Everywhere I look, murder has become fashion internationally.
Especially in America, 'Land of the free, Home of the brave.'
Technically, just tellin ya, it's the land of the creeps, home o...

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All the pretence of innocence
The rules that one invents
Laws that must be seen to be
Beyond the reach of devilry

Those in power can circumvent
As they like, with full intent
Legal eagles can but try
To keep your vision from the lie

All in all I wonder when
We truly will have freedom again
Twisted knots of red tape can
Imprison every once free man

Number six once held the key
...

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It's morning again
                            and
                                   I'm trapped in.

Out of bed
                 but
                       into the same lie I roll.

I have no alibi
                       for
                            committing the sin

of deep-diving
                       into
                             this "cozy" 9-to-5.

"Take a ri...

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GALLOWS

Wet dawn morning rain dripping on sombre scene

low clouds distilling all colour to grey.

No warmth or hope or peace of mind.

Count down approaches creeping death

as workers test the gallow’s string, new white rope up,

haul heavy sacks of grain to test it – dead weight.

In his cell a condemned man is brought,

he didn’t sleep much. His last day on earth,

wheel...

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Life in the city starts at ten

With tanked up teenagers acting like men

Ladettes in skimpy skirts are all dolled up

Falling around in the road, having had too much to sup

The clubs are bustling, dance music rings out

The bouncers evict a fella acting like a lout

In the bars the booze flows like an industrial machine

And shouting and raucous laughter becomes par...

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Hi everybody

 So I have written a trilogy of poems based on the subject of communication. I have rather inventively decided to call them The Communications Trilogy.

 The first on the Trilogy is Television, whilst I am someone who is generally pessimistic about the media and government and don't really believe a word of what we are told, I do suffer from a subconscious paranoia. Beaten i...

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GALLOWS

Wet dawn morning rain dripping on sombre scene

low clouds distilling all colour to grey.

No warmth or hope or peace of mind.

Count down approaches creeping death

as workers test the gallow’s string, new white rope up,

haul heavy sacks of grain to test it – dead weight.

In his cell a condemned man is brought,

he didn’t sleep much. His last day on ear...

Read and leave comments (0)