For Him, From Her

Hang out your washing my friend
It's a long
Old
Love, life filled
Picturesque streams
Run away, like the water they are
Promise of literal dreams
Gleam in your eyes
Like candle lit paper stars
To indulge from afar, in your joys
Is the choice in my heart
Since the history that's happening
Will keep us apart
A new start, a sketch of Spain
A smile, a hint, a wondrous thing
From me a sigh
Relief
No lie
Happiness. Is an art

Start Spreading the Fake.

Truth oh truth
Where for art thou?
Slipping from the lips
Of the bat-winged frau
Not very likely
My comrade-less friend
All tories give over
Is take and bend

Scratching the surface
Of cloudy vision
The mission is corrupt
As is a decision
No finishing line
Will save, nor unite
There's futile fists
A fighter-less fight

Spreading the fake
Like digital cake
Big data creator
Trolls march on
Rile up the libs
And lame the socialists
Tories with stories
Jack-afucking-nories

Journey

Stumbling blocks for feet

Does not make it neat

The horror of my journey

Carrying your gurney

Up on my weary shoulder

There is a yellow folder

With a marionette boss

Who approved of your loss.

Time to box up all my grief

Go along with the chief 

But the horror eats my heart

Ends every single good start

Wipes the laughing smile

Joy becomes searing bile

It's the end of before

Now there is lack, nothing more.

Introvert

Introvert

A beating drum
Run, run, run
A thumping heart
Need to depart
Separate, disconnect
Skip, hop, jump

Make the quiet come
Jog, sprint, flee
Embrace the stun-gun
Escape and run away
Everywhere, people
Talking at me

What I Got.

I ain't got nothing much
I just keep thinking
All these words, they keep repeating
Over and over and over and over
I'll think about him
Until I get older

I've run out of words to spare
My mind is blacking out
So many thoughts, a blind fantasy
Obsessional confessions over
I'll think about him
Until I get bolder

Twenty Lines of Tired

Lethargy eats my memory up

I'm weary and teary

My thoughts have corrupted

Whilst countries have fallen

I tire of swollen, eyelids

Are down by my chin

Any sleep is a punishable sin

An obsession with slumber

Slow and bleary, my head

Cucumber slices upon my eyes

Waking up, constant dread sets

Inside my dreams I sleep

And nap and creep and kip

Such is the continuing drip feed

Minutes of winks I collect

A scrap-book of sleep

By my bed, I am beat

The crisp clean sheets

My pillow covets the cover

Sleep my jilted lover

Up Your Nose

On you go, Mr. Talented

The ever so won-der-ful, Mr. Tally-Ho!

Will you share with us some glow

A drop of sparkly dust

Just to rub off on us

Or does it just go up your nose?

What-oh!