i’d give love, for arms

right now
I’d do anything
I’d give my self away
just to be heard again

right now
I’d do anything.
I’d steal
I’d beg
I’d plead
just to get this one thing that I need.

right now
I’d be more than happy
to offer, all my life
for love it has no price
not just a sacrifice
leave a sour taste for afterlife
and I know its not much in return
and I don’t think I will ever learn
but I would give my whole
pour all my heart and soul…

I’d give love,
just for your arms.

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gone

it’s really starting to hit home
that your gone.. and I’m alone
and I hate this selfish feeling for need,
its unsettling me,
that your gone,
and the memories…
all muddled into one,
become fog,
like we never ever met,
seems wrong,
I hate it,
its horrible,
we can’t and dont talk,
and I go around in circles in my head all day,
telling myself all the bad,
making it sound good.

What kind of poet are you ?

He asked me
Half heartedly
“What kind of poet are you?”
You said you didn’t really read,
But I smiled when I saw that you watched tv with the subs,
“What kind of poet are you?”
A question no one really was too interested to ask,
You don’t ever judge me,
Just look,
Watch me rambling on as ever,
‘Why can’t we just be together?’
In that moment It seemed perfect,
That was then and this is now,
Whilst I thought about what kind
Of poet I am,
I realised I don’t have to be a type,
You seemed to have taken an interest,
That made me hopeful,
A hopefully romantically lost poet I was,
You left me in an ally way in the dead of night,
Now a dangerous poet I am.

To the friends at jobcenter; please get a waiting room for families and children.

In February/ March time I was rocky on my feet and needed to start up a new life and new claim , and carry on my journey to attempting to revisit my degree which I hope to be doing later this year. It was 30mph record winds and I had arrived early at the centre with my 7 month old daughter and 3 year old son. He was cold and shivering so I went inside the job center only to be told to get out and that I’m not allowed to stand inside and that they took away the waiting room. So this is a poem based on a bad time, and a stinky attitude.
*
You can kick me out on my arse,
Make a deal,
Make a farce,
Make me look like I’m a mess!
A waste of space, a waste of breath,
You can chuck me out on my arse!
You can make me look like I’m useless,
But take it out on my kids,
My Baines,
You’ll see a woman, that you’ve made,
I scrape and scrimp, I raise and wimp,
A generation for the next tax profiting chimps,
You think I’m dumb,
No, I’ve had enough,
Now get a waiting room made for us!
Make us stand in freezing cold,
To sign on for money that I have been told,
I must claim whilst I’m on a break,
I’m sick,
Disabled,
Just child birthed,
And if you haven’t heard,
Marriage is dying off!
Men seem to get off lightly?
And this is what disturbs me slightly!
That you can,
You can kick me out on my arse!
Make a deal,
Make a farce,
Make me look like I’m a mess!
A waste of space, a waste of breath,
You can chuck me out on my arse,
You can make me look like I’m a waste,
But take it out on my kids!
My Baines ,
You’ll see a woman that you’ve made…

I’ll get you through

She held my hair softly,
Straightens at the ready,
It will be ok,
Everything will be fine!
Laugh a smile.

I will get you through.
I got you.

She peered over the garden wall,
Brew to hand never cold,
It will be ok,
Everything will be fine!
Laugh a smile.

I will get you through,
I got you.

She recieved my text essay,
Oh how my life has started to get messy,
She might be far, but always there,
Don’t worry,
Everything will be ok,
Everything will be fine.

Text a smile.

I will get you through.
I got you.

sunny now

now…

its sunny now.

I hope you thought about me,

the winter has faded away,

its strange you didn’t stay,

I live another day.

it’s sunny now,

and I miss the conversations,

delayed, deliberations,

heart racing kisses,

surely love grows more,

beneath the sun?

and I look out,

for you.

I snuck out,

for you,

I fell over,

bruised,

just to lose,

I’m a fool.

it’s, sunny now, the winters faded, and I’m just glad infact I’ve made it! and I wish you was here to feel it too, the beautiful sun shine on our faces, feels like it has been ages…

I will look out for you

You Fucking Broke my heart: Letter 1

Letter 1

S.Street

Hull

Dear stranger,

I was walking earlier down the street, couple of tears.

Nothing I couldn’t cover up and beat.

I imagined you being civil, oh how sweet that could be, you sat down on the bench.

Sat down next to me.

You pulled up the bottoms of your trousers, even though your tall, that shouldn’t really bother you…your black dirty boots slam with force to the floor.

The pavement is under us.

The bus shelter is smelly and there’s chewing gum on the bench,

I’m trying to think right despite all the stench.

Your bright yellow t-shirt, I fucking hated cleaning them, and your stupid fucking cap with your greasy hair from the vents.

We sat and it was silent like the world had finally given us a chance.

We didn’t need to get violent, or fall back in love and dance.

We needed solidarity, a solution, something that would both make us content.

Whether

that

would

happen,

I don’t know,

but we can try,

Better

yet.

I needed to tell you,

I waited like some kid like I did with him,

don’t blame me,

I was raised on fairy tales,

dreams

and

the ability to hope.

I never learnt how to cope.

but

As soon as you think its a lecture,

you stand up to walk away from the truth,

I guess, I thought we was even,

since you enjoyed smoking dope,

something that helped you.

the ability to cope?

^

Imagine that this bus stop,

isn’t in the place that you think,

its in the middle of a field,

no bus lane,

no smoke

no lies

just cuddles and a cry.

^

For one last fucking time…

things could have changed,

they did change,

they changed in a blink,

I wish,

I didn’t have to speak,

in riddles and twists,

but you Fucking Broke my Heart,

it’s strange….

I thought it was already broken,

I felt you take it,

from me…

…..P.T.O

 

The zombie apocalypse

The knotted ropes of our love knitted
tighter,
Closer ,
Harder to break,
Doors shut, boarded,baracaded ,bolted.
I don’t think we have been here yet…
I don’t think we have even met.
Noone can reach us or hurt us in here,
The world doesn’t even know we are alive.
Windows closed tightly,
Pinned, sealed,
And We don’t need to see the sky to see the stars,
We’ve chalked them in white above the ceiling,
No light is brighter than daylight,
And no night is darker than the what we have inside,
Stronger than ever before,
Noone can damage or break down these walls,
And the zombies,
That try to peal off the corners of the broken pieces of the window ledge to climb in and eat us as we lay in bed,
Won’t make it.
We’re safe.
So you tell me.
It’s been 3 days so how on Earth will we make it?
Tins of spaghetti hoops and baked beans,
The taps are tightened off,
14 Litters of water stand, for now.
Stronger than ever before…
we have been forced to keep each other alive,
Driving ourselves into insanity;
It had to take the end of the world to see,
That we are supposed to be,
And at last you gave in to try the things you refused to try,
Because in the end we’re gonna die,
A zombie will eventually infect us,
Or we will ultimately starve,
Least we’re not arguing about who’s phone should be on charge,
Waiting for day 4 to great us,
But right now nothing can defeat us.

you are beautiful

I am beautiful….
and I am here
alive
and functioning
each organ like each nut and bolt on an engine
keep them fresh keep them healthy
and they will keep running
no steam will heat off them today
I am alive
I am not a bot
I am a being
capable of love and emotion
of understanding
intelligent
and caring
a person
and I am beautiful
so are you!

Image by Juraj Bezak

can’t win

cant win
~
damaged
only slightly
waiting for                     a might be
could be
should be
hideous in the                   day time
hidden in the                                 dark…