First world crime

So this word smith, is going to begin, with some inspirational shit that will then delve deep
Into a pit I don't recommend you dive too far in, it's not a part of your life you want to keep
So here's the positive bit. The first world problem that I call it, as in it isn't that bad
The white mans, ghetto  estate I can't afford to buy my kid the latest nike fad.

Because my husband likes  to gamble, on the horses, although he can if he wants to, in our life of win or lose
My kids are healthy,  and they don't  have to drink water out of a muddy well we had to dig, confused?
Your fucking too right you are. On every news break, in between arguments, about which tv programme you should record to live
Want to know who made a good recording? Ann Frank, in her diary, put that into perspective.

Where's the inspirational gasp of this drowning  man. ? The minute of amazing beauty
Well here it is, are you ready,
They're already a part of you, it may not be the soul you sleep next to every night
But they dance in your dreams, they inhabit and help to solve your internal fights.

The person that you call on the telephone when your partner is asleep
The one that you dream of, even When you're awake, they're the ones to keep
The life of one, the multitude, oh I forgot, it's time to get deep
Ok, are you ready?, this is going to be something you'll either remember or the words will seep.

Right. Our brains can only comprehend one issue at a time, anymore and the cells begin to implode
The next rhyming sentence should be obviously something to do with explode,
 however
It didn't, because, I control this, me, my internal dialogue, that I just set, on a life sentence plural
Life doesn't have to rhyme or be fucking poetic. It never, ever , makes sense, there's no such thing as a rhyme or normal.

Existence is a whirlwind. It's a blizzard that inebriates the snow globe of your brain
It's the fourth glass of wine,  when you think about the ex, you paint the perfect picture of a portrait that the driver in the limousine of the insane. He's ready to jump off,?at the next highway exit
Because there's no answer to this rhyme.

It was never ever meant to make perfect sense. I hope that's the signature of this wordsmith
And in a hundred years time l,I, get a wink at this, and if I don't, then the author can go and kiss my skin of pith.
So if you wonder what this poem is all about. I'm hanging to delve but I'm sorry to be all apologetic
It's time.
You know what time sister, brother, the eye lids have collapsed. This. The white mans first world crime.

The electricity should be free

I'm nothing if I never thought about existence
Where'd we all come from, the matter of life, death , from this time hence
the tick of the tick tock ticking, a winding me up clock, ten thousand followers on twitter
But I'm still unrecognised, a shadow but white,  an obscurity living yet remaining bitter.

They tell me life's a fucking lie, a perpetrator on the run from the soul disguised
All wearing a mask to hide behind mommies apron, too chicken to rebel, man youre chastised.
Thrashing in the water shark style, with the bit between the sharpest teeth in this particular ocean
Murdering tinker bell cause she doesn't have any magic to conjure, I'm the bad peter, forever young, pan.

Just need to step out a millimetre on the cliff face with only a lean back prevention
I'm a fucking enemy of simple thought process, I'm the electricity experiment of nikola  Tesla
The Einstein, figuring shit out super fast like Carl Lewis in the nineteen eighties,
Skipping stones across the pond life of this life, only I'm up on top, nothing's going to ignore me.

I need a locker room, ass slapping, brethren pep talk that it's all going to be alright
Stallone bleeding from his fucking eyes, crying words to big me up for the fight
Hatred pouring in speeches, man on a soap box,  angels of gods like the almighty Bacchus
Wine threading, it's intrinsically, vein flowing, numbing but creating, helping in the short term story

Once upon a fucking time there was this little boy who wanted to be the sheriff
The law of the mighty town where he was born and needed to make safe from the darkness
Arresting the quickest and fastest, putting gangsters behind the tiny brain cell walls
But I never amounted to a silver star, now I'm just the freak, bizarre, the circus clown who falls

But let me tell you a tiny secret, a diamond insight, the answer to every question you ever posed
No, that's not the answer, dwelling on the past, it's just an arrested memory, it can, like a dictator of your fucking mind be deposed
Never ever together forever let your mind control you, trust me, you can still explore learn to comprehend
This is not the final soloution, there ain't no nuclear bombastic Hiroshima mushroom cloud incinerated end.

There's a climb back, rock face, stone beach, answer, a fucking nose wiping baby shit stained nappy
Dancing on the broken beach shells remember the bitter about recognition on twitter would make me happy
Fuck it, just through these words I don't care anymore, it's the end of this rhyme, no more once upon a time no more eccentricity
Let's just learn how to control the electricity of Nikola Tesla.

Free.

A clause before dawn

There's an itchy tweetny bit of my eye, a tumour on the inside scratching of my mind

A west side part of this intrinsically partical particular father being over kind
Trouble of the upside down the tilting of the crown the realisation of a kid skipping stones
On the lake of mind dissolved in cells screwed over insipid calls on the matters telephones.

Calling twenty four seven, no such thing as eyes closed before dawn
No reason to complicate the flip side the role of the dragon the twighlight zone
A closed casket caused my face that's full  of scars and unearthly craters of doubt
The mr moon face that I don't want to talk about

Hi, just me hanging out, listening and kindling the logs on the fire
Where the embers cinder, orange glow, like my desire
just one more shot, thank you very much while my cheeks are this apt of red
Another, escape on the emegency exits please better off living than surviving the dead.

When the valleys pour with tears of shadows and laughter
The heathers of glen green before the sadness of life before the disaster
Cellos playing do we can can  dance amongst the complicated realm of cause
There's the pinnacle, the fighting punch in the obsolete face we pause.

Catch me if you can

Ice cold queen, a figment of a stunning autumn imagination, I cry iceicles on a frozen cheek blush
Dedication to the lost abandoned cause. The instrument of a log cabins hush
Lost in regret, forced to the end of a time, better but bitter on a suppers plate divine
She is my conspiracy theory, my abandonment, the blood letting that I know is mine.

Violin the fibres of my mind hung drawn, sketched and quartered, dissolved in acid
Underneath the garage band that plays in obsolete, the meaning of life limp and flaccid
Momentum sculptures in marbles balls, untoward the cloud of thunder loud
My furrowed forehead my blushed cheek awkwardly leans in the Turin afterliving shroud.

We can not afford feelings, we can not cling to memories
What is left my love? The next chapter of the never ending series.
The hate of love that contributed to the passing of the life, the inevitable sunset
The imbecile volcano that erupts, upon the balcony of suicide in which I leapt.

To the pavement. The concrete evidence of splatter and source of brains all over the place
Crying as I attempt the jump thinking of my mothers reaction threading my tears in a love embrace
And so the cops picked up the pickle pavement brain, there isn't much about the soul surviving anymore
Just a messy realisation, a release amongst spirits , vodka, whisky, and the ultimate cocktail of drugs
Drunk in the middle of being alone.

Goodnight princess. And if I even slightly believed god bless
Into the absolute escapade. The child who once sold lemonade to obsess
My brain of insane the realisation I can't be that partner that strong and relevant man
I'm a mess of the blood on the street scene puddle. An afterthought, a... catch me if you can.

Jack Daniels and laced tequilas

 

I'm not from the hood but does that really matter,  pain is the same all over the world
No marshal j Mathers but I can still complete a life sentence
Poetry and this shit I'm attempting as a white boy in the countryside, a ball all curled
Up toes at the end of a journey putting up borders, erecting mind defences and fenced.

Protecting the innocent parts of my brain from wire eating bugs
I've been crazy, I've woke up in strangers trucks on the dock of the bay
Driven an eighteen wheeler so close to the ocean, bearded man laughed and gave me hugs
We were seconds away from crashing and dying but the guardian angel wanted me to stay

That was only one experience in the middle of my fucking disaster of volume
My autobiography, a portrait , a canvas full of coloured mists against the backdrops of a bridge
Incidental music playing against rappers and smoking mothers mad at me, consumed
And that's the key to this, this fucking gibberish, the reasons I did what I did.

Flipped a car on its roof, rolled it a couple of times, cut out by the siren feelers
Those fucking airbags hit you really hard in the chest and head
And the instigator of these crimes are mr Jack Daniels and laced tequilas
Too much medication that I decide my own prescription amounts fed

Too many time I've escaped certain situations, should have been dead many times before
But I must be half fucking cat landing on my feet
Scars are my art on back, chest, and face a badge on the reflection mirror I explore
Every fucking morning before I limp into the shower, before dawn already accepting defeat

Then I'll take my coffee black and sugarless because I don't know sweet
Watch the psychic detectives to find a happy medium
Smoke the daily cigarette, one of fifty, inhale and thrive in the smoky heat
There's an amount of satisfaction that I'm one more step away from the greatest under earth fire stadium

Intertwine. Into wine, inner part of me that knows I'm not in control of the string puppets that visit me at night
Those mother fuckery are in a realm of their own, I've tried to hold council with my subconscience
But they're more experienced than me, they're queens of the fight
They beat me black and blue and knock me further into unconsciousness

Then I awake, in a pool of cold sweat and mop my brow in anticipation of the day ahead
 Carefully explore my fingers on the outside of my duvet covers, crawling feelers
Everything's ok, mr guardian angel I get to live another day they didn't make me dead
Carry on, step forward, write more of this shit, with jack Daniels and laced tequilas.

Darkness of a lesson

Try to embrace the thoughts that go through my mind channels day and night
I'm a permenant nightmare stream,  that cries itself to slumbers horizon dream
But you don't understand, don't comprehend, don't apprehend, don't grasp the fight
Freeze, step the fuck back, relax the motion of the time piece cog, unwinding the scream.

Who am I? Just the shadow on a hooker phone ,  I called,  to read me poetry, no sex just reeducation
Don't do it to yourself , quit, walk away from you drug fuelled life style and think of your daughter
I'm not the monster your risked your life to turn up to this evening, I'm not the self reflective situation
I want to meet your mother, tell her it'll all be ok, that you're not going to end up on the slab of slaughter.

I'm attempting to help, to be the high priest in your world of confusion and inner turmoil
The sentence of life, before death, do you want to understand, I'm not the magician with a wonderful magic wand
I'm not the rattlesnake in the dessert,  under a rock,  only thinks with his cock, no bent neck, no automatic recoil.
I'm just that guy I think you'll fall in love with, have you read my fucking poetry, it's complicated, but I'll big  me up, yet I know you won't understand.

It ain't you, it's totally me, I'm free styling, delving into depths of the deepest darkest depths of the reddest and most traditional red wine
You've no idea what the fuck these fermented grapes do to my mind
These thoughts are all over the place, disconcerting, alterating, reconfigured, they're no longer mine
I'm sorry I invited you here to this dark deep, scary place to you, just wanted you to sleep next to me, no strings, just me being kind.

I wanted to take you out on a date because you're pretty and you matter to me, obviously, at some point, when my ego allows you to breath,I'd propose to you
Because you'd make the perfect wife, after I'd managed to alter and change your thought process
Together forever travelling for our honeymoon then our little baby would be born, it would be the gift that keeps on giving, and I'd be forgiving, on your past, I'd forgive the clue
That told me to step the fuck away, back off, run as far as you can, I'm totally obsessed.

What the fuck do you mean you don't find my love enough
How come? You were a fucking feral cat, I rescued you , I gave you the world
I rescued you little girl, when you had it real tough
I was your oyster and you were my pearl.

And now after an hour in my grey depressing home
You've determined that I can't change you're fucking life, provide for your fucking child
Our  life together would have been perfect, the thunder that creates the lightening in the storm
You fed my ego for the hour I payed you for you were my girlfriend, my sword to the enemy shield.

I love you. Sugar, sweetness of my breath,
Sunsets
I've learnt my lesson
Never propose marriage to the darkness of  obsession