Long Poems

Gave Me The Swipe

So so high soz bbz cnt come.
Whatever. Whatever.
Text me if you like me
And I’ll reply.
Text me if you wanna come round and get high.
Fuck the flowers, here’s some Mandy
It’s quicker than liquor, more effective than candy.
I love you. I love you.
Let’s go for a smoke?
Pull my hair Daddy
Kiss. Smack. Choke.
Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!
What do you see?
Do you like me ?
Am I right?
Will the spoon fork tonight?
Text me text me text me.
Like like like.
Swallow down, scoop it up
Don’t give up the fight.
But what am I wearing?!
They’re all dressed in black
Compression of the chest
A semi-heart-attack.
And what do you do?
What school did you go to?
I’m not the sort of guy
That you should say no to.
You’ve seen me on Facebook
I’ve got loads of friends
So I won’t accept
That that’s how it ends.
I swiped right for you
Your rightfully mine
You emojied my emotions
And if that ain’t a sign
Then fine.

Do I have another gin?
I’ve got to think quick.
Loose footings turned to footsie
And I’m feeling quite sick.
But he’s paid for them
So of course I can’t leave
Wish I had a death to fake
Hidden up my sleeve.
Is she prettier than me?
No no not a chance
She’s basic, you’re a babe
Now cheer up and have a dance.
What are you doing in life?
You’ve got to sort it out
Opportunity rounds bend
But you sit by and pout.
You can’t fund the fun
And fun won’t fund itself
Soon spots will be wrinkles
Sat wanking on the shelf.
I’ve got another add!
I think he must be mad!
But of course of that I’m glad
Hook a line, catch a cad!
Supreme the Supremes
Will-you-love-me-tommorrow?
I think you should abstain
Save y’self the sorrow.
Don’t be such a wimp!
It’s your body so you can
You can’t define yourself
By the thoughts of a man.
If they didn’t take a picture
It definitely didn’t happen
If women are from Venus
I’m a citizen of Saturn.
Anyway it doesn’t matter
I’m too fat to go to Mars
I’ll wait about a week
Work out, tan and starve.
He didn’t say so much
Just that you’re a bit intense
Well I hope his balls get sore
All that sitting on the fence.
But really I don’t care
Not a bit, what you think
There’s your bike, take a hike
Or sit ’n drink your drink!

 

Leaders

We all must subscribe
Do just what they say
She wore a sheen metallic top
3000 miles away.
Everyone is sad
Saying that they’re mad
Mum says that its a fad
But La La land’s not bad.
Follow us! Follow me!
For the good of all mankind
Click subscibe. Tag a mate.
Forward not rewind.
I’m thinking of the future
Sign the petition
Can’t you see that I’m behind it
For the good of the mission?
Watch me now I’m going live
These 15 minutes are for me
Remember you should like it
Not enough for you to see.
Certified, I am sir oracle
When I ope my lips let no dog bark
I’m as blue as twitter bird
Not grey toned like a shark.
Get caught up in the web
Believe it all, it’s true
Spinning tightly we’re the spiders
But we are stuck here now like glue.
It is fine manipulation
We consume and are the feeders
Tricks us followers to thinking
We are in fact the leaders.

 

Selfie (Unfiltered)

I don’t want you to like this
Assassinated by my pen
Collective inward groan
Regret and count to ten
I’m caged inside my body
Racing thoughts won’t shake a leg
I prophecise and hypnotise
Scabs on knees I beg
I focus on the minor
The major slams the door
The locks are changed
I feel deranged
Like scardy cat I claw
The lending hand is bitten
With palm on face I hide
Give open arms the finger
Thumbs up for those that tried
I speak before I think
Then swallow up my thought
I choke on your opinion
And spit out what I’m taught
My life is film and I’m the lead
Dark comedy, should be lighter
I keep audiences entertained
Like any good screenwriter
I thank that you believe me
But I judge you all the same
I don’t know how you got here
But it means a lot you came
And yes I love you too
Translation: please don’t leave me
For time thats ticking on ya tod
Is hellishly uneasy
My lover’s lost in wind like I
He make’s me seem concrete
Yet paper weights crush feathers
Left ruffled, obsolete
Is this pure what I pour out
Compulsive truth or rhyme?
Either way its too indulgent
This old outlet of mine
I’d swipe left at my own image
I rate myself: one star
A lot of you are just the same
Won’t drive yourself that far
You may think this too naked
Desperate, deemed unhealthy
But is it really more revealing
Than pouting, filtered, selfie?

 

Art History Psychopath

Hieronymus bosch me in my garden of earthly delights.
Its so surreal when your furry spoon swirls my soft cup
Yet when I ring your lobster telephone all I get is an illusion.
And I want you. I want you.
Not multiple screenprint versions of you for everyone to see
Why are you so commodious?
You’re the money that fuels me.

Ok, ok.., You’re not money, you’re a Monet.
You’re like the lilies sketched by a man nearly blind
Part from his mind
An impression, a feeling.
Not real-talk Courbet gloom
Smashing the glass ceiling.

O how tough it is!
Some days you’re framed but there’s nothing to see
Awash with white, reflect the light
And you have minimal interest in me.
Pollocks to it all!
It makes me want throw my paint upon you
Splatter you and explode
Dip in my brush, fill it up
Then go bust my load.
See Rodin could have sculpted you
You’re larger than life and there’s no mould.
A Byzantine saint stood amoungst the lapis leafed in gold.
You’re making me go dada
My yearn for you is ready-made
In the urinal I see beauty
All my patron dues are paid.
You are the Sistine Chapel
And I’ve just bust my neck
Gazing at your beauty
Iconoclastic wreck.
Entered my blue period
Stopped collaging at your face
Ce n’est pas une love story
Like de Kooning, I’ll erase.
Place me in formaldehyde
Cage me up, take out my eyes
I lie here in my unmade bed
But I have won no prize.

 

Protest

Incinerate incarceration
Christ, I’m here with all the nation
What kills is hope, anticipation
Greener grass holds fascination.
Spit. Vomit. On your chains.
Don’t bend to clean it up
They’ll look at you in sheer disgust
You’re such a mucky pup.
Music plays so you can’t hear
And films so you won’t see
Fine dine on entertainment
But that don’t mean you’re free.
What are we all doing?
And why can’t we all speak?
When sucker punched right in the gut
We turn the other cheek.
“They don’t hear us!” the mute cries
As the blind man is televised
Telling us all what to see.
The illiterate write the manifesto
While the businessmen charge us a fee.
You’re out of touch – just hold me!
You’ve got no grip – just feel!
If every cog tried hard to splinter
Broke would be the wheel.
Silence aids and it abets
The bloody hands of crime
Wishing won’t take you anywhere
But it will take your time.
And in dark rooms we gather
Cheap pills – expensive thrills
At the alter of a man
With a laptop in hand
Which blares a repetitive beat.
Shoulder to shoulder
We move feet to feet.
And the beat beats on.
The beat beats on.
The beat – beats on.
Incinerate incarcertion
Christ, I’m here with all the nation
What drives is hope, participation
Greener grass is obligation.