BLOOD SPILL

the morning wont open its eyes

and
when
it
does
last nights blood spill
has
lost
its vivid glow

the red shine
dots of rust now

like
scaffold
rain
or
buttons popped off my undone flesh

RADIO POP

cry a work tear at radio pop

fm pop rap
caught my tough egg napping
with
a
story
of break up and make up
and
domestic abuse
i
cannot
relate
to at all - except the word hurt hung out there 
on a womans simple voice
over
a
slow 
mournful beat
thats
rising
like sunday waking up

Motorola DROID 3

LETTER

dear poetry
i hope we are still friends
i hope
i 
have
not mangled you 
or
mocked you

true
i rush you
and sometimes forget to tie your shoelaces
but
i
feed
you
often
tho forgive me for the cheap snacks

regards

THE GREY MOMENTS

all the 
half waking 
and slow dozing 
is
dense
with
poems reading and movies talking
i
hear
distant yells 
and 
see
white lightning 

and when i'm out of this in-between thing
i 
cant
hold on to their hands 
or 
their 
meaning

is it insight i seen
or
just
realities chipped sheen
of 
back alley 
busted bottles
and
meaningless fighting by dream stuffed bins ?

WORLD PI

investigating a hub-case
tough as saddle leather
it
wont break a lead
no
matter
how
hard
i ride

i light another cigarette
think - retirement

the city is a lewd zoo
of
sun sin and wire 
flogging the true pigs and dark lovers
of
the
rave dives

theres no theme in the vile apnoea
of
flown exits
and 
no
late
night
zoot groove to edit

i light another cigarette
time to hand my papers in

i ride the camo boat
down
the oil river
looking for the right questions 
and
some
clean face
to
ask them to

i get a drink dockside
glass dirty like vice

back in the office over the nail bar
thick with soldiers wives
i think
one more day of these generous expenses
then
i'll
return the cheque 

hub-case unsolvable

period

and
i
file
the
world
in the Open drawer

by hanyuse

http://www.deviantart.com

SUBTLE MORPHS

how
a
face
can
be
so
different
one day to the next
in
different light
and
different mood
and 
with a pound or two dropped 
or healthily gained
and
with
a
good
evening
behind it
and
a
buzz
in
the
brain back pocket
of
good words meant and said
and
safety
like
a
force
field
around glowing vitamin hair

every apple has a face by stancatastrophe

LITTLE SICKNESS

sickness smells

of menthol

of silence

of another weird plane

of flat sprite
dry
toast
and
the eternal twisted bed sheets of 
the
worlds
longest
mornings

SURGEONS AND ME

the masters of the universe
strut and stride
around
the 
unit
kind or cunts

in tight fitting poser waistcoats
or
new raspberry scrubs
and
mend the laid out faulty
with
their
talent and soft machine know-how
learned
and
stored
in electric jelly
and
huge
careful hands

i struggle to tear the cellophane on new free post-its
waiting
for
the
sandwich toaster
to
grill
me
my
cheese

STREETS AS POEMS

the hot summer of '06
was
full with
warm beer
cheap scotch
a
funeral
and
grief

but
i saw the streets as poems
columns of
simple
true
words
everywhere
i
looked

urban75 blog, brighton west pier

NORMAL POSITION - SEALED

ENGLANDS RURAL NOIR

rain falls from endless cloud
over
Blade Runner Englands rural noir

replicants
built
with
wings
patrol drinkers existential binge -
unconscious demonstration
and
self immolation

kings and liars wear waders 
and
invite
cameras to meetings
and
sell soft machine maintenance
out
the
back alley

bullets with wings know where they're going
and
new missiles in Englands attic are
programmed to reminisce 
about the musket sunshine of Empire 
while
insurers
run
from Englands Blade Runner
rural
noir
and the undredged sewage seas
of
rich
fossil
folly

ROY BATTY FROM ENDLESS VARSE, AN INSPIRATION BLOG

AM VS PM

the
good health/tidy/sane/yoga
intentions
that fight for dominance
in my morning work mind
mean
so
little
and struggle for relevance
in
the
evening home
tired
laying
on the dusty carpets
with cigarettes
and
a
warm
soft
cat

PURPLE FLOWERS

the dawn is late

all airbrushed aluminium clouds
and 
pink star war laser bursts

two birds fly past each other
in
the
silent
watercolours

i wonder like a poet - 
do they even know each other?
and
all
that
implies . . .

hospital staff arrive
smiling at the break in the cloud
with
a
bunch
of purple flowers and butterflies
for
a
tall
strong
bereaved
head nurse

sproketpf wallpaper

THE DUMPS AND THE GLORY

anyway
i hope i'm not boring you?
with 
my 
under-tales scribbled with a clean pen and nano claw
i
am
only
filing
reports
of
one
day
relevance - a baby opus raid
to
empty
stressed lobes of their tickles
and
to
show and tell of the dumps and glory
before
the
timed
exit

TS-2T "Push To Exit" Button with adjustable 2 to 45 second timer by Alarm Controls

I Made Them In Test Tubes

I Made Them In Test Tubes, a photo by ford dagenham on Flickr.

Iceman

Iceman, a photo by ford dagenham on Flickr.

cometh

STRANGE LITTER

i
cycle
home
under a sky the colour of a drunken bruise
weeping
a
million
raindrops
the rainbow colour of quartz
as
the
sideways sun from a tear of fire in the thunder black
catches
them
coming
down

and the verdant vibrant verge
is
muddied
with
the
cast of wind in the willows
mown down in the dark wet night
and
tossed
aside
after dawn showed them all
still
and
silent
and
colourless - forever asleep 
among 
the 
abandoned childs shoes

#

unknown artist, west sussex

EVERYTHING IS FINE

so i'm suffering
but doing it 
like a buddhist
so
thats
ok
and i'm not serious-ill
and
no one is angry with me
i
got
a
piping hot coffee
and a delicious cigarette
and words to tap tap down
and
a
job
to
got
to
thats not killing me too quick
but
not yet 
so i've time to finish this
from
the
comfy
morning chair

DIRECT DEBIT

when i was young
maybe seven maybe eight
i
used
to
worry about growing up/leaving school
i
would
count
the years till this abyss
and wonder what the vacuum could hold

when i was young i worried
about
BILLS
i realised i had no idea where to send them/how to pay them
a future of panic on the door mat

when i was young
every
night
had 
its apocalypse worries

TIRED

4 AM eyes
and
nightshift thighs

i
sink
when
i
blink . . .

who knew there were so many different types of tired ?

caltech health education

WORLDS APART

its a world of parts
it
turns
on
spatial awareness
farts
and learned response

an attic land
of
separate boxes labelled
taped shut
and
dumb

we see into each other
thru
the
wet
eyes
and like drivers locked in politeness at roundabout junctions
its
enough

wikimedia commons - 

Rainbow Roundabout" - Improbability Series

PICTURE OF SUNDAY

stretch my spine wilt out
like
a
tabby done napping 

sunday morning's a rehab drug . . .

out 
the 
finger smeared window
the
street is empty as anything
and
i contemplate another long slog under pale winter sun

grim due
in
the 
given stare shadow of dead conifers 
and
retard smile
for 
the 
pink drift of fazed apple blossom

i
browse the western ruse
and
keep
the boar rant headlines
out
my
mind

123RF Headline Stock Photos and Images

WEEK ON EARTH

another no-being un-rat week
another
filed log book
of
disjointed surreal-normal event-moments
from
off
the 
lofty top of a weird gods head
from
deep
in the ticket-cram of his coat pockets
and
from
lost
down
the
back
of satans DFS sofa

world turns still - stumble-turns
on
dry
axles
thru learned response
spatial awareness
heart-pump ambition half-held strange hostage
on
the
runway
of Fuck Town

cos of all the wi-fi fog