So much power #poem

So much power,
The nimrodism,
The sense of knowing all,
Yet being unable, to coordinate.
When one line, won't couple, with the other,
Where son clings longingly,
To the known, and never, moving on.
When deep knowing, can only suffer,
As desperate hearts, need reinforcement,
Only knowing, that letting go, is the only way, to gain control,
Of one's own soul, and all the pounding,
Stating, now, it stops.

Nobody knows...

Nobody knows, the true power of prose,
As we seek to believe, that there's better, to reach,
And the fog, and the gripe, that comes with the types,
The control, as we roll, on to all, that is final,
But never, is final, the truth speaks within us,
Our hearts, that are real, beat beneath iron and steel.
We are, and will be, until finally free.

Imprint my hate

Imprint my hate,
on your, foul mind,
As you run away,
leave me, behind.
Used, abused,
As you, have choosed,
I gave my best,
and now, I lose,
"Oh, he's obsessed,
like the all the rest,
That've failed
My oft-repeated test,
I prime desire,
Exploit, conspire,
Then, they realise,
I'm another liar,
Resulting in some broken lives,
I then don my next disguise,
Reinventing all I am,
Fishing for my next, great man,
The mark, I've chosen,
For his power,
To wile away,
The hum-drum hours."

The #Brexit Poets & #Brexitpoetry

To think we'd end our days
As deluded, disappointed,
#Brexit poets...
Broken pages of the country
We used to feel, we fitted into,
Until everybody, had a rethink,
Where men can kill at will,
And argue, they had no other choice, provided.
We want action, we want decisions,
Or we'll deride your lack of vision,
You need to trust the system,
Moreso, you need to trust our wisdom,
As we give it all away.

White Jackets

In white jackets,
Big & mighty,
Trying not,
to hang on tightly,
To the dream,
Dad had, for them,
Hoping, one day,
They'd, be men.

Tarmacadam

The falling to the earth
Of gray & tarmacadam
Games we play
Where noone has
the time to think
Amidst the wailing
Loss & stink
Of world, of hearts
All burned away
The violence of
Our average day... 

Spirit world

See the spirit world
Unfurling flags
of brave & true
For you,
Propensity to save,
The rave & rage
Of all, that we can do...

So thank you...

So thank you,
For the inspiration,
The other way,
Just wasn't working,
But now, my heart,
Is open, wide,
And you can peer,
Right in, inside,
And then decide,
If I've not died.
I'm okay, is all I say,
Alone, as you've,
all, run away.
I sit here, now,
In my small house,
Where the man,
From the citibank,
Said I'd be.
He promised it'd be this small,
That I'd make do, & little more.

Seren-aid

As treachery just stands & sings
The loyalty, strolls idly by,
Wondering, what it thinks is safe
Worried that it's losing face
And might not make it through.

The times are changing,
But staying fluid,
Druids, Wizards, horny lizards,
Cannot spuriously claim,
That "names" aren't what they do.

As Izzard's kidneys fail & splatter
On the set of his next show
Ross & Ross both thrive & dive
And Ghandi's Agent's good to go.

We all lie back, & think'v England,
Glistening, pinks & browns & lazers,
Tazers, phasers, cockney ravers,
Beef n blowjobs, ready with your gobs n nobs out.

Graduating, from the facile,
Massaging my jerky missile,
Thinking I might change my life, now.
Looking now like Hindu cow, now.
Getting my mouth fit for kow tow chow.

Just won't plan the vaguest changes,
Just because the men are strangers
And because, I'm looking back, now
At the ramblings of a statue,
And that I've been in a vacuum,
With darkness setting in.

The green smoke curls, around my brain stem,
I Realise, I have always been them,
Seeking recognition, from him,
Knowing that I have become him,
But, that he will never love me.

The world can't ever, truly know me,
In advance, of making history,
And I'm not so fucking desperate
That I'm looking for its wink.

If noone really sees me here, now,
Then, I'd better chop my ear off,
Hope that I can feed my family
Maybe, get a dog, or something.

That's the secret of all conquests,
That by flow, & hidden tones,
We can hear her lustful moans,
Like peeling back the skin.

Then her sighing, crying pit,
Can feel the pulsing of the shaft,
And all the glitter of the gristle,
Shiny, sliding, slowly in.

Duneworm, stillborn,
Like skin, still warm,
Making, cavernous release,
Causing her to smash her teeth
And tear, to pieces, torn.

Considerating, masturbating,
Making all the stillness, hewn.
See you all, here, end of business,
Make you all, come back here, soon.

Rogues & ragged, rampant harems,
Making glad artistic moments,
Showing all, that's going well now,
Making all the meanings older.

Brain goes, struggling, gumgrips gripping,
But the sense just keeps on slipping,
Dancers showing all their triplets,
Droplets forming in grey matter,
Madder than a Hatters garden.

I just can't be bothered with the things, you all think, give me meaning,
Leaning on your steaming, given,
Riven by the dirty dozen,
Cloved & burning, cells reopen.
Token of the broken omen.

Wills & Rory, Jackanory,
Flynn & Steadman, recompense me,
With their purist, full inventory,
They can tell me, truth, eventually.