Thank you

Words hurt and purse through lips
that once kissed while hips tilted and hit
the right places – no room or space
between us but now youve seen the light
It stings and it sings to you:
A portly cherub needling and wheedling
right between the eyes;
I roll mine and sigh.
I’m glad its clear about your ex
and that boss you really like.
I applaud you for your honesty
but these thoughts dont catch us out
could you have been a bit more quick about it
Because these talks right after fucking
are a bit of a kick in my complex
because sex should just be fun
especially when you like,
or you thought you liked someone.
So now Im back to the beginning
while you pine for old, I pine for new.
You reopened old wounds with my hands
while you bit mine fresh open,
so thank you and fuck you.
Thank you for the lesson.
I learn more every time
I date a girl stuck in some old world
and I dig deeper into mine.
Thanks for giving me my sanctuary
thanks for giving me my space
thanks for making me sound like Morissette
O disillusionment, o consequence, o charity,



Last Night Part II

I am putting wax in my hair,

and my brother, suited and debonaire,

calls out to me to sort the buckle

on his black waistcoat.

I fiddle and fuss and make a mess

but its the best I can do

I stress as we wax lyrical in a

slightly cynical way as to why

our mother held us both,


told us she loved us,


and would always love us

no matter what happens.

I mime a hanging.

He nods his head.

We both grimace a grin

and try to smirk

as we work our way out of fear

with gallows humour.

He says:

“Sooner or later,

she’s gonna do it,

if she wants to do it.

There’s nothing we can do

so we might as well  go and have fun,

just be done with it,

and leave her to it.”

I wonder if my brother is a sociopath

and bite my barbed tongue.

A little while longer and my brother leaves.

Gets a lift off my Dad

to go and paint the town red

while I sit alone, padding out my evening

with nail varnish, denial,

pensive thoughts and vain preening.

Unsure of what to believe in

I hear the door slam,

I hear the dogs bark

and I start to panic and

search; I call my sister

before my dad arrives home

“Where the fuck is she?” he snaps;

I say I don’t know

“I’m going to fucking kill her”

he says,

before he coldly explains that

She left a note about demons

and pain that wont leave;

she’s aware of the pain she will cause,

‘but be happy’ she pleads.

I tug at waxed hair

this Icarus can’t understand

I try to breathe but I’m melting,

falling apart from this land

that is crumpling under me

like her broken face.

I don’t know how to fix

this woman I love and to make

everything OK and it all spins and I take

a huge breath

but then the door slams

and her howls are heard

as she keens to the moon

like an animal trapped

and he screams in her face:

“Did you fucking take anything?”

“No I promise!”

She cracks:

“I went to the sea.

I just wanted to die.

But then I got scared of the dark

and I thought why

does that even matter now –

why does it even matter?”

I go up to my room

my heart tattered and ripped;

because there is no way to fix

the urge to join the sea.

It’s the world’s biggest bully,

charismatic, it’s free.

What can we offer her,

but a working class life?

With a bored, boring husband

and the end of family life?

Grown up kids are all leaving

and making homes of their own

but my mountain is falling,

growing smaller


What if she disappears

and enters the sea?

And this huge part of my life

can no longer be seen?

I want to fight nature.

I want to scream in its fat fucking face.

But you can’t fight with nature.

I should accept my place.

If she leaves me she leaves me;

I can’t fight demons I can’t see.

If she leaves me, she leaves me.

And her demons come to me.


You do not have to be good

You do not have to be good

or do as you think you should

while under cloak and dagger

burn fire, would

you want to sprawl and lie and try

to hide

who you are, how you feel inside?

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to bow.

While inside you howl

to the open moon:

a whittled wishbone

over time that is over too soon.

Your lion heart won’t tame you,

your wild wings push through the cage.

Your life is not a stage.

It is real.

What you feel is real.

Stop the games of hide and seek,

there’s no need to hide, or run away;

instead come out, come out, wherever you are.

Come out, come out, as gay.

Valentines Jack

So I see you are back, Jack.

With your croons and crazy tunes

inside the crappy cards.

Oh lad, you’re such a bard!

Sincerity you lack, Jack.

So you can take it back, Jack.

The folk of Nor dont want you no more

or your crap from the stores

so dont come round here no more.

Hit the road, Jack.

Hit the road.

Take your poisonous gifts

and your loose locking lips

because I am wagging this finger

and shaking these hips.

You’re a fake and a phony,

preying on the lonely

and preying on the loved

like they dont have enough. 

You make us say “I love you”

on one day of the year

with shit balloons and flowers,

cards and consumer cheer.

Roses are red and heart break is blue,

but smug cunts are worse, what can you do?

I tell you what, Jack lad,

I’m having a beer

and I raise my glass to you, my man,

and say: “Fuck off, until next year”.



The saddest thing I ever seen

was when reality became a dream,

sobbing into pillows like a teen,

my heart throb throbs as I try to sleep.


Think of you with every heart beat

that throbs as thoughts become a feat

You want to talk, I don’t want to meet.

I see you every night in every sleep.


What is life, but just a dream?

What is life when you have no team?

I close my eyes and see you in dreams,

my heart throb throbs, pulsates like a teens.


I used to have posters on my wall

of me and you before our fall

from grace and now you are so small

as I look down: the hurt and scorned.


And now the posters have been torn

and my life:  a pulsating storm,

of grey and blue and streaks of black,

but I can’t have my heartthrob back.


Sweetheart, What Have You Done To Us

This is a song by Keaton Henson. I don’t know, the lyrics and his voice are just heartbreaking…


Sweetheart, what have you done to us?

I turned my back and it turned to dust

What have you done?


Oh please, just come here, don’t fight with me

And I think you may have broken it

Will you admit?


If all you wanted was songs for you

Here goes, after all that you put me through

Here’s one for you


And don’t call me, lover

It’s not enough

It’s got to be tough, cynical stuff

Follow my words to the end of our love


You were the one who told me not to be, so English


Sweetheart, what have you done to our love?