Inside

Long black hair a sprawling mess
Face showing worry lines of stress
Chin harbouring a craggy beard
Yet there is nothing to be feared

Staring eyes full of fright
Following you scampering into the night
Lips and mouth don’t say a word
Even though there is lots to be heard

Ears that have heard a thousand screams
A mind that has lived a thousand dreams
Worn, weary but wordly wise
Yet everybody walks on by

And for all there is to know
Silence that says please don’t go
For no-one has even tried
To look and find what lies inside

Botox Lips

Cheap lipstick on your botox lips
Short skirt on your non-child-bearing hips
Face stuck in your mobile phone
Yeah, girl, you’re in the zone

Giving me that look on your disdainful face
Whilst you stand there with your plastic mates
All blonde hair and sparkling bling
That you know doesn’t mean anything

You thought you’d left nothing to chance
But you weren’t even worth a second glance
With all the crap you stuck on your skin
You forgot that beauty comes from within

Munchmans

At night he waits for me
Looking up from the bed
With eyes full of anticipation
He yearns to spring forwards
But somehow keeps his patience
And waits before I settle
Before bounding upwards

There he sits
The poggle, the poggle
And there we both lie
For thoughts and recriminations
I lift him off and setlle foetally
If only I could go back
Right leg straight, left leg curled

And he slowly comes over and finds the divot
Where there used to be a bigger one
And he curls his legs over mine
The purr, the purr
Staying like this through the night
And this is how we live and love
Until the morning claims us both again

I Remember

I remember a happier time
When I was yours and you were mine
Late night walks in the park
Where Swans were not the only things in the dark

I remember when we were complete
Although money was hard but life was sweet
And though everybody dreams about past glory days
It seems a hundred years ago in this haze

I remember you used to watch me sleep
Now I cry for the secrets we no longer keep
And now loves cruel mistress
Has finally got her ultimate wish

Memories fragmented in my mind
And it’s hard to leave them behind
And though its only April, it feels like December
I remember

When You Kiss Me

When you kiss me
It’s almost like you want to miss me
I’m supposed to be your significant other
But you kiss me like it was your mother

This isn’t wartime rations
On my quest for passion
I can’t see what’s wrong
With wanting loves nuclear bomb

It’s a criminal waste
Of loves true face
So bring those lips close to mine
And let my mind and heart intertwine

Ode to Shipman

Killed a few
No real disgrace
Old age in a pew
You won’t miss that face

Sense of power
Sense of trust
We can get some flowers
Of course we must

Arsenic, Adrenalin
Punctured through vulnerable skin
Who to trust, who to know
Watch the poison in the veins that slow

Now in prison, now in hell
But still beware the death knell
In doctors we trust
We must, we must, we must, we must

Why believe the massive lies
Trust and hope the alibis
Don’t believe the massive hype
Pray that you are not his type

Again, again, I hear you cry
That’s the truth, it’s not a lie
Everybody needs to be heard
But the dead, they don’t say a word

Trees

The swaying bare branches
Flutter in the blustery wind
The coldness of the day
Only matched by the gloominess of my heart

The view of red bricks
On this summery wintry day
And the chimney that stands redundant
Only reminds me of myself

And as the wind plays with the bare skeletons of the trees
Toying with the branches using invisible hands
I think of what could have been
And what will never be

Lovingly Broken

As I stare at the lavender moonlight
Lovingly broken
I have lost my insight
This wilted flower has spoken

I see in front of me a deep ocean blue
I hear the sound of new born kittens
Nothing borrowed, nothing new
Purpose gone, no longer smitten

The darkness of the night approaches
As the light at the end of the tunnel fades
Pointlessness encroaches
Time to go away, away, away, away

Smell (of death)

I smelt his death the minute I saw him. It wasn’t his gaunt expression, the
coughing up of blood, the weight loss, it was something more. A slightly
inhuman smell, of rotting vegetables, or a thousand dirty nappies festering
in old water. Of all the smells I have encountered, that was the worst. I
had smelt death. I knew it, he knew it, we all knew it.

I came in on Monday and he was gone.

Talking cat story (working title)

Talking cat stories have been done before, notably two books about a cat detective by a turkish author whose name I have forgotten. But I want this one to be about competition between a group of cats, a particular cat and the lavish attention that is given to a young boy in the house that can only lead to violence, loss of fur and possibly have a fan involved. I have a cat, a big male and think I can imprint his personality on the story.