Posts

Image
The Lost Boys The lost boys are stuck at tender of the heart age of twenty-two The modern day satire reincarnation of the pre-Rapchalite brothers Who have immortalised their beings at twenty too Reference themselves without the needed dripping irony, blaming their mistakes on their mothers As if Wendy herself wasn’t as well a lost girl  Idolised like a shell’s mother-of-pearl The lost boys fuck and fight at the same time “It’s more poetic that way”, they say as they search up their rhymes You won’t see them in the day, they only come out at the midnight bell chimes Coming out with their cliched words, speaking recycled thoughts of, “where have you been all my life?” As if you haven’t been standing right here Watching fuck and fight themselves, being awfully quite queer  The lost boys live and breath in their romanticised hedonism  Debated philosophical arguments revolving around the firmness of Wendy’s tits Saying aye or nay as you please, let’s cause a schism “But I love...
Post a Comment
Read more
Image
Jennifer [a poem/song about Jennifer Aniston in the voice of Jennifer Aniston?] I’ll take your secret To my grave Lock it up and die with the key You’ll tell your friends that I was brave I won’t have the heart to disagree Oh lonely lovers not hard to find Switchblade dates under candle light Oh lepers love oh one might touch I’ll break my legs so it’s hard to run Don’t leave me here because it’s hard to run I’ll accept my fate with gods open arms Attached to you my love my heart And if you break I’ll break there too And if I do You’ll watch me lose  And I won’t blame you I won’t fight Haven got a bark much less a bite And you’ll stay immortalised And in your mind I’m a forgotten light I’ll write to you you won’t write back You’re a busy man I should have known that If you can Send me a postcard I’ll ignore the smudge of a lipstick mark How much longer do I have Was made of roses now lily pad I’ll tell your secret to the world I was once something I was once your girl Jennifer and ...
Post a Comment
Read more
Image
Adulting   [turning 20 this year is scary asf] Roaring 20s baby Pinkies up as I drink my solo pint, true definition of modern new age lady Savouring the last couple months I’m the hot topic on the over 30 male crowd’s tongue They’ll find a younger version of me soon, they can’t help it I make them feel young Fresh out of my mid-teen crisis She describes me as sentimental and indecisive, but it can’t be right I’m not a Pisces Bad dye job and even worse bed rot in my Pinterest inspired bedroom of a cavern One day I’ll realise I’m not going to find true love at The George Tavern And maybe I’ll stop looking, waiting, expecting Can’t help it, raised on fictional rom com romance, fuck you Bridget Jones I can be just as unsuspecting Fleeting infatuations Can’t wait to leave behind teenage miscommunication Delve into an idolised state A life soundtracked by Lily, KT or Kate Communication girlie  by day By night I’m Carrie Bradshaw in NYC with my Mr Big our relationship shrouded in gre...
Post a Comment
Read more
Image
 Superstitions  [thinking about next year] I’ll start the new year with a superstition Under the table, mouth full of grapes, I’ll emerge from my fake womb in a new nihilistic position  Embrace an air of faux optimism Leaving behind the forgotten year’s remembered acts of watered down barbarism I’ll drink to the ghosts of my past juvenile convictions Say my prayers and toast with hollow benedictions The calendar flips and year mirror cruelly won’t lie The same restless angered stranger looks back at me, eyes dead, asking  why? I’ll start the new year with a passionate kiss from a soon forgotten stranger It won’t matter much, nothing but a mechanical heat-exchanger I’ll start the year with something different Perhaps a glimmer of hope- I’m tired of believing in lack-worth superstitions 
Post a Comment
Read more
Image
  Union Jack [an ironic social commentary] British propaganda Union Jacks are all the range! Leftist London type gander Pint of Stella as a rebuttal to an accusation of middle class life- call it a soho short change “I’m a London creative, but not in a cringe way” “I listen to Berlioz ironically and prefer tapas over small plates” “I’m doing London but not in a Skepta, Stormzy, Dave type way” Call me Pete Doherty holed up with a guitar and Milk Models signed girlfriend in my London Camden gaff So what I don’t live pay check to pay check, I still pay Sip orange wine I don’t have time for that  I ❤️ wine  sort of riff raff Cool Britannia, Britannia rules the waves Nationalist chic in a post-brexit, post-BoJo, post-truth time Take pictures of the poppies on World War One soldiers graves The little black boys in trackies are roadmen, it’s not my fault their skin chose a life of crime That’s Daniel, he likes anime and basketball and has dreams of a midlands uni and a simple IT...
Post a Comment
Read more
Image
  POCKET PUSSY. [brand spanking new] Pocket Pussy is exactly what her name defines her Forget her real name, consider it a slur  Up there with the r-word, b-word, a-word, z-word Pocket pussy melts on the tongue like fine liquor She opens her mouth for sucking  Her legs for fucking And she doesn’t require any loving Pocket pussy is fun-loving, home-loving, peace-loving Her love means she doesn’t mind a little condom de-gloving *wink* She loves in the manic pixie dream girl type way In the I think I’m going to end it soon type way In the I’ll send you my tits and wank over your dick type way I’ll turn a blind eye to the smudge lipstick on your shirt type way The I’ll put up with the exhausted sigh from my mates when I mention your name type way The type ways, hip hop and throw shapes, into an idealised space I’ll be the Amy to your Nick don’t worry babe I’ll move from brunette to blonde, grab bleach, I’ll get it in one day Forget cool girl monologues, pocket pussy all the w...
Post a Comment
Read more