NEW BLOG

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Youth

spirits fly
high as kites
as young footsteps
pace across tarmac
and under concrete skies,
trying to find answers
at the bottom of a pint glass.
the youth
of today
dance away
their teenage blues
under dim lights
and the dark corners
of small bars and clubs,
immersing themselves
in sambuca
and gossip
and hoping
tomorrow never comes.

North Bound

it's 9.40am
and the sun's spilling
over platform 5a
at nottingham station.
the station's relatively empty,
almost as empty as the sky
in fact
where the clouds are absent
and the only thing visible is
pale blue.
the minty flavour of my chewing gum
pierces my nostrils
and stings my tongue
as i wait in the cold
and the low temperature
pinches my skin
despite the sun's presence.
a small spider paces up the wall
of the waiting room
occasionally dangling from it's web
as it makes it's journey
across the concrete.
i have 6 hours left of mine.
across steel railways
and stopping at places
i may never step foot in.
a dozen holiday's worth
in one sitting.

Valentines

february is when
chocolate hearts
and flowers
bloom from shop windows
and we're slowly swallowed up
by romance
and struck
by cupid's bow.
lonely limbs
grasp mugs of hot chocolate
and curl up in their duvet,
ignoring the couples
that gaze into each others eyes
in the corner of a dim restaurant,
where the candle wax drips
on to the checkered tablecloth
between the empty bottles of wine
and the garlic bread crumbs.
a melody of orgasms
will take place worldwide
on february 14th
whilst some people
will sit in silence
and listen to nothing but
the sound of a rom com
seeping from the tv
or the wise words shared
from friends and family
claiming:
'you'll find the one someday.'
others will hear
whispers of 'i love you'
and 'thank you's
as they recieve
a crate of diamonds
or a card that sings
an awful rendition of
whitney houston's 'i will always love you.'
my mother once told me
cupid ran out of arrows
so those lonely limbs
will just have to wait until next year.

Petrol Rainbows

there are petrol rainbows spilling down penryn high street,
the cars driving across colours of greens, pinks and blues.
the dull day is washed away
with a paintbrush of rain and petrol.


life is prettier in rainbows
so somebody pass me the gasoline.

London

foxes
rats
and the shuffling footsteps
of london youth
heading to pubs
in the east end
and throwing their money
at pints of gold

Fake

spoon fed words
from immature tongues
'i'm sorry' you say
under tainted breath

i'm swimming
in your puppy dog eyes
drowning in our tears
and your fake words