Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Can't Decide

I am unwhole
I am unwell
Could not decide whether the faculties
Were bruised or damaged beyond
Could not decide whether heart bled into brain
Or vice versa
Can't decide
Whether it's her's or mine
Can't or won't
It's always mine
I feel a hole
I feel unwell
Whether it's her's
Or mine
I am un satisfied and defied with
Blemished tears which smell of
Whiskey and disinfectant
There are facilities to which
One may run
There are other's arms in which
One may hide
Shovellers to fill
This hole inside
I am un well
Trouble deciding
Whether key faculties
Damaged beyond

Sunday, 1 December 2013

Hip Priest

Hip priest shouts sweet toasts
Shoots from the lips to your
Sweet gyrating hips
Sends shivers to the stratosphere
Of my inner ear
Hip priest
Hip priest
Stalwart minds
Pinprick eyes
Squinting at me
As if through the sun
Like one trying to see behind
Like one trying to find
A truth or maybe pleasant lies
Pinprick eyes

Hip priest shouts in the foreground
Dead letters are in the background
Your sweet gyrating hips the subtext
Sends shivers create tremors
Glimmers of your own one true self
The things I want to do to you
The things I want to do to you
Would make Nero blush

And there's the hip priest
Shouting sweet toasts
In the background
Hip priest Hip Hip
He got a hiss
And a lisp and drooling now
All over the bar
Shiver shiver
The things I want to do to you
The things I want to do to you
Sending me shivers
The way you do
And only you