Wildflower

Baby I’m a wildflower who grew in your garden,
among the orchards and the snowdrops from the winter.
I was your lucky little weed.

A daisy whose petals you could pluck at
to figure out who you loved.
Dreamt with me tangled up in your golden crown.
Kept me on a chain, wrapped around your wrist.

Or maybe I was a dandelion,
you blew out into the wind
longing for something else.

But you wasted your wishes on a dream,
lost your breath on an unwanted thing.

Until I was gone
and then you moved on.

Threw your little wildflower away

to find yourself a rose.

Glitter Stained Teeth

Black leather jacket, red bleeding lips.
They take her down to the translucent glass town;
enchant her hollow mind with hollow words
that make her follow their every order.

Chipped nail polish, vodka spiked water.
She grew up on hope of princesses and kings; saving the damsel from her heart-breaking distress
of anger filled nights, forced on bedsprings.

Cracked blue diamonds, lying candy hearts.
They make her promises of a better life;
instead of the cycle of sadness she’s in
like a broken merry go round.

Glitter filled guns, tainted sunshine.
She’s given up on the dreams she had as a child;
she takes what she needs to get by, to feel alive
and keep the hole in her heart hidden.

Blue Roses

Black diamonds, blue roses,
perfume that smells like amber,
fades around midnight,
when bright stars shine through the dull clouds.

Around the mass of dust,
surrounding old lungs,
there are hearts hiding,
that beats like broken syntax.

With messy minds, neat vodkas,
dreams of mountains that smile.
Spending nights writing soliloquies
about cheap medicine.

Rain falls down,
black circles around eyes.
Girls are prettiest when they cry,
that’s why the world makes them so sad.

In a haze, drinking by a fire,
covered to death in sunshine.
Black diamonds on girl necks,
blue roses smell like amber.

Drunk Thoughts Mean Nothing

Thoughts fuelled by desire
and heart breaking moments
of pretentious anagnorisis,
hyped up by the solstice of
a legal poison,
Don’t mean anything.

I’m sorry.

What was I was thinking,
when I rang you over, over, over, over?
You didn’t pick up,
it was all lies.
Fabrications made up in the
love affair between
my imagination
and the volume of intoxication,
iconoclasts of boredom.

I don’t know what I was going to say.

It doesn’t matter.
It was an exaggeration.
They burned out quickly,
I threw away the candle
with your name,

It should have gone years ago.

Did you imagine me
imagining you?
Did you picture
your name flashing through my brain?
As the poison went further down me.

I’m sorry it was a lie.

A broken memory i’ve since forgotten,
covered in dust,
temporarily brought into
my minds eye;
tarnished with sobering alcohol,
telling me to call your name.

How does it feel when you see my name?

Do you care, like I don’t?
Does it ignite the hidden dream,
you buried within me?

 

Glass Shards

She strayed from the sea shore,
that she was told to stay by
as a child
And looked for a single glass shard,
on an endless beach of sand,
cutting her feet bare with glitter.

The night came through,
like an eclipsing sun
and moonlight cried on her,
while she sat and stared
at the dead stars in the broken sky;
they faded as the memory of the
implosiasions that happened light years ago
finally caught up with them.

The ones left
formed together, made a person.
A girl so brave,
all the knights on the round table
would bow down to her.
So ferocious and fantastically clever,
that all the men in the land
would pray at her alter,
and such a dreaming beauty,
that all the eyes in the word
will come and desire.

Right there and then
the girl staring up in the dancing sky
fell in love right there and then
with a girl
that she was yet to become.

‘It is dangerous to be right in matters which the established authorities are wrong’

I’m a Runner,
it spreads like poison through
my heretic French blood.

When I run, I hide.
Then I stay hidden.

With the trees collapsing around me,
closing fully in
turning into a cage.

I don’t know yet,
maybe I never will
if I’m scared or safe.

I need to break free
and run
and run
and run
and run
and run
and run
and run.

Glitter Filled Gutters

I
Come on down to the dreaming district,
my name is Bonnie
and I guess you’re Clyde.

Drink it down with a bottle of wine
Or vodka and moonshine,
If your mind can take you that high.

Come on down to the wasteland.
Where sad girls, are turned into
pretty diamonds with cracks ingrained.

They blag their way into hotel rooms
Laying half dead in an broken bed.
Kissing the beautiful felons into freedom

II
Now,
Where were you babe?

When this town we built on dead roses
started falling apart?

The Krays they are dead.
and the filth run the game

And the dreamers who would have
given their lives,
gave up instead.

I can hear the firing squad coming

Give me an armistice,
put a red cross around my neck,
lock me down in the cellar,
until the shelling begins again.

A pistol in one hand.
A machine gun in the other.

I dance on my veins
as I block the blood from the tower,

they say a solider never leaves the war ground,
not truly anyway.

A part of their mind attaches to the bullet they shot over no mans land,
then gone
forever.

My bullet is a lighter
and my poppy is made of a knife.
The red dye bleeds down into the shower
while a pill tore apart my stomach.

Birthday Dreams

There was a thunderstorm in my room
they day of the broken chimes,

the ending dream broke through
and you woke into my nightmare,

I am Ted Hughes
listen to the way she speaks;

it’s like the tapping of my feet
on the hell in the floor,

I heard the blackbird sing
a poem of the queen

like a mocking one
wishing it was trapped and free,

I am Ted Hughes
I killed the love of my life

or did her madness curse
his life, until it suffocates mine.