Mrs Organic Jones

Fuck me or I’ll faint

she says

underneath this desperate thread
that keeps coming undone
when she finds herself out
of it again and again
and again

why won’t he look at me
hes with no one else
thats plain ta fucking see

Fuck me
or I’ll faint
she says
he’s with that fucken’ tart
what the hell has she got
at least I’ve got heart
oh great he’s leaving her and looken at me ~ I wink and smile and wiggle my fucken big toe
here he comes

Fuck me
or i’ll faint

Hello Mrs Jones
what are you doing here
Its me Pete

I used to live down the road
your son used to go to the same school as me
God luv that must be some years or so ago

Id recognise you anywhere Mrs Jones
leaning up close says ~ you still do ya smoko
and a blow job to go…

Fuck me
or i’ll faint
I thought you’d never ask
Of course love of course and aven’t you grown
come on let me grab me bag
we’re good to go
I don’t need no face lift
or to look seventeen
all I need is me title Mrs Jones
and the rest is all organic and free

Dream …I Am

Touched by the misty mornings light
kisses whisper across my blue eyes
with surprise I am looking out of myself
looking down at me in my dream

I am the sky
looking now into my eyes
white clouds drift on by
An extraordinary view of me lays below
so vast am I now spreading out of myself
I become the sea that is mirrored by sunlight
in my blue blue eyes

I look deep within
and see I am now
but a mere speck of myself
I close my eyes
as white soft tides of surf
brings me

back in

The Drought of You

I rain dance for the drought of you

Blackbirds die in the wells of your eyes
Your chemical love
pin cushions your heart a toxic beating
Your kisses now give a death cold twist
for nothing is left in you
but the death
of you

Your spirit
I watched
Slowly committed suicide
Still is your pin cushion heart
Toxic beatings bruise the cruise
of your life
now a drought
Your hollow words
scream at me

I rain dance for the drought of you

Grey

deep breaths

behind the curtain

calls

of low key

ebony plays

a tinker of white

we are not

what we say we are

we are not

what we say we are

the white frost of your eyes hard

locked into the

dark deep ebony

of play

calling out

we are not what we say we are

In a world of multitude chords

screams your violin heart to me

as I bow down

the kiss of cold frost melts

in your eyes

playing I am not what I say I am

I am not what I play I am

I am

a multitude of chords

rippling the waters of reflective thoughts and memories

placed in my mind

I hold my breathe

I dive into my drug

by those who threw the stones before me

and here melting into my ebony eyes

is the white frost of your glare

melting an inter racial stare of grey despair

and we will forever be

not what we say we are

Advertisements