Monday, 13 June 2016

Oh Valentinian Cunt


OH VALENTINIAN 

CUNT

DON'T BRING ME BITS OF 

CARD

PROFESSING WORDS OF 

LOVE!




YOU DON'T LOVE ME 

DO YOU?

YOU JUST WANNA FUCK ME

DON'T YOU?


AND 

YOU CAN FUCK RIGHT OFF WITH YOUR  TRITE 

REPOSES

AND 

DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT SENDING ME

ROSES

THAT WILL ONLY WILT AND

DIE

LIKE YOUR LOVE FOR ME DID LONG 

AGO

IT WAS ALL A

LIE...

..I KNOW

Sunday, 10 January 2016

GIDIOT






On stage
Ol’ Georgy
Stands with legs astride
like he’s off to ride a
horse into victory.
He’s got a gram in
his pocket and
his eyes are like
black stars
that let no light in
He can take on
the world but..
his richter grin
hides the truth…..
He wasn’t cuddled
as a boy
you know?
Anyhoo…
The paddock and
the offshore
stash
make up for
the emptiness
in his soul,
as he number
crunches his way
to austerity. A
2.1 BA
in History
qualifies him
more than
most to
make
tough decisions
off the backs of
'hard working
people'
who want
a ‘Higher wage,
Lower Tax’
economy.
YES the deficit
is definitely
coming down
people
and if doesn’t…

China will

definitely
be to blame….












Wednesday, 26 September 2012

Sunday Dinner at Harry's

Image result for sunday dinner michelin star

Gravy glistened upon his chin
Wine stained lips all aquiver
Anticipating
The sliver
Of beef upon his fork
On his tongue
Medium rare, it melted
And to the Yorkshire pud
Crisp and brown
It slipped down
Most agreeably
Swished with Ruby Cabernet
Glug!
He shilly-shallied between
The carrot and the bean
But decided to spear both
In an obscene
Fashion
And slosh
Another drop of sauvignon
Like the curve of a woman's hip
He slavered over a splendiferous spud
Roasted
Down the gullet it did slip
Chops slapped
As he lapped and feasted onwards
Afterwards
A napkin daintily dabbed
Signalled that he was finally sated
He undid a button or two
And waited

For dessert to come.

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Yesterday's Boy


His face had a blackberry shine

plucked from the thicket...

purple fingers and scuffed knees

How a boy should be....

Clothes smelling of fresh air

not living rooms and fags.

Trees climbed and hideouts

to find, the day filled with 

adventure and the promise

of the unknown. Exploration,

unexpected finds, an old boot,

a tin can.....who is the old man

in no.42? Knock on the door...

and run......roll down the hill

as fast as you can.....then dig a

hole and hide sweets....In the 

distance his name is called, 

time for home.....Dinner!!

and a bath to wash off the

mud ....but not the memories.

They will always stay.

Wednesday, 11 April 2012

The Cabinet of Millionaires Make Underclass soup



The carcasses

Of the Underclasses


are made into soup


Boiled flesh n guts


Sipped on silver spoons.
Blood sucked dry
through straws of gold
And skin
stitched into luxury leather
Prole bones
into aspic
Veins taut strings
For violins,
Teeth stacked
To build
Ivory Towers
And
Hearts ripped
Out for the heartless.

who say.....

"Let the profitless be discarded 
& let their lives be disregarded 
there's nothing in it for me
I care nothing for them
You see!!"

 Yes the cabinet of millionaires
sip underclass soup..........







Monday, 6 February 2012

I'm Just Not That Into You Anymore. (Sorry)

When I look
At you
my
Intestines
Sink
Into the
Floor
And
My balls
Retract
Due to
The fact
That…............
"I'm just not
That into
You
Anymore…Sorry"
.....And
That Girl
Over there
Big tits -
Blonde hair
Promises me
The
New
No more!!!
Can I
Do you
And not
Weep?
Just let m
e
Sleep!!!!
Or at
Least
Can I
Think of
Her
Whilst I’m
At it?
And even if
You stood
Naked
Legs over your Ears
I still
Wouldn’t

Notice
You’ve washed

My Pants
For too many
Years!!
I no longer
Have
A motive

So take
Your wit
And take
My pants

And just fuck off will yer!!

Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Low Rise Jeans In a High Rise in Peckham

In a bucket
Of fried convenience
Her fingers drip
In East Street gold
Future heirlooms
If all been told
To her newborn son
Whose father he'll
Never know
But even so
He's Niked to
The max
So that's ok
And he'll learn
The facts
Along the way
By a step dad
Or five
Who'll teach him
How to stay alive
Whilst beating
Him to the floor
And it won't take
Long for sure
For one to be
Smashing down
The door
Tonight mama's
Out with Nana
Who's only
Thirty-four

The Party

Well les be avin ya
down 999 Letsby Avenue
we're havin a party!
I'll be wearing pants
And in the pantry you
can pet my paunch
and call me polly
Dont forget the booze
a burgundy will do
I've got vol-au-vons
freshly nestled on
armpit hair
And cheese delicately
squeezed through my toes
And I'm gonna throw shapes
to an 80's tape
Lets boogie
But dont bring that
bird Bonnie
She kept biting me
last time we met
Turn up around 8
Please bring your
own bog roll I've
run out.

Tuesday, 17 May 2011

BIG FAT HO



Phosphorus
Bark
Barking from Barking
Harking on about
Parking
Hes late for
A date
In the park

In the dark
Where
The day-glo
Knickers of a
Big fat ho
Glow
Shes got
Eleven men
Waiting
All Masturbating
Yeah

"24 seven"
Shes on the go
Go girl go!!
A go-go girl
She once was
But then the goose
Got fat
And far too juicy
She was

Toast
Men kept
Trying to cook her
Spit roast
And they'd all
Boast
About the fat brass
blowing them
On brassy beds
Shagging
On shag-pile
Carpet.

Burns on
Her knees
She always aimed to
Please
Nagging wives
Forgotten
With Ease
Oh how their
Lives were
Rotten