Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Never let me down.

tell me you love me in the morning
to bookend when you said it before i slept.
Let me kiss each eyelid
and ask if you'd like some tea.
Nod while you stretch
we can both drink it in bed
as we're not ready to get up yet
then kiss me like I can't leave
have me come up with a lie
for why I'm late while i ride the train
but can't because the truth can't
escape my brain
give me a reason to walk fast in the rain
tell women why I'm not interested in them
and leave parties i don't want to be in
let me look at you and not know where to begin
tell me you want to stay in on weekends
be one from mornings to evenings to mornings
and trade secrets as frequent as kisses
that are delivered with precious precision
as if each one was destined for that moment-
be the one i can be alone with
be proud to say that's who my boyfriend is.
and never let me know i told you that.

Monday, 15 August 2011

Dean Barton's nan's car.

6.30 every morning
uphill. No bike.
how many papers? fourty-five
how many pounds? fifteen.
Nineteen weeks.
How many left? three.
every day after school
while waiting for his bus
he stares at it, raised,
behind the counter, out of reach.
he's been late home lately
due to the daydreams of videogames
he'll miss his bus
just looking at the box
a 320GB 

Jordan Bennet's paper boy hustle is his auto pilot.
he's a sixteen year old unwilling to grow up
and feels guilty because 
the x-box was his first love
but in the two hours
of playing uncharted two at his mates house
with graphics that had his tongue fall out
the black behemoth with the glossy front
had become all he's been able to think about
for months.
when cleaning the kitchen table
he imagines the cloth is on his new home console
and he's carefully removing fingerprints off the top
when watching deal or no deal
he doesn't see contestants go for 
two hundred fifty thousand pounds
but 833 playstation threes
he'll skip the morleys lunch
because that'd cut into saving up
The money couldn't come quick enough
pissed off his EMA was cut off and
with mum out of work
he knew asking for a present
was unfair to his parents
so he got a job from a newsagent
to deliver papers but,
make no mistake it was a job he hated-
it was too far from home to go back after
but he finished around seven thirty
so got to school so early
he'd watch the groundskeeper opening the gates,
it led to him constantly sleeping in class
which he says led to him getting ignored by girls
(though his friends say his job didn't change that much)
and when going back home he conjured up thoughts,
thoughts of how he could speed up getting what he wants
as the thoughts became schemes
that he'd dream of acting upon-

his tesco metro
contained a cash dispenser
and every week he'd watch it
be refilled by the worlds
fattest, laziest, helmet-less
security guard laughing out of his armoured car
 swinging a black box with no handcuffs
that he knew contained more notes 
than he could ever want.
and he hated seeing him
because he would always see him
always getting out, always laughing
like no one would dare touch him
as if the opportunity to take wasn't an option
to just hit him in the back of the head
with his book bag and run with the sums.
it's week nineteen, the nineteenth time
and it got harder every time.
He'd never do it though.
but walking past him was always in slow-mo.

Later that night he waited for the knock on his window
heard his neighbour Max coakley whisper-shout
"Jord, get your hoodie, scarf, gloves,
scarf, hood, gloves, hood, scarf and…. hat and lets go!"
He laughs. He does. Sneaks out. Knows what's up
but has no idea how its going to go down.
Earlier organised at lunch break
His schoolmates gather in his estate
he smiles as, without faces
they do all make convincing thugs
he hears music play from afar
and he thinks in the distance 
he can see some people dance
and they're all ready for a laugh
until Foday Marlon smashes  the window
of Dean Barton's nans' car.
(Foday Marlon was always a moron
he didn't know he was fucking with Dean Barton
and everyone knew not to fuck with Dean Barton)
Foday got lumps, they joined up with the year above
adrenaline was pumped as they consumed cheap cider-
they ran and became brixton high-street roamers
fitting in with elders and feeling safe with older brothers
danced around burned cars tipped over
he would hear screams coated with laughter
the shouts took over as police came closer
and he watched the law enforcers cower
the way they never did with peaceful protesters
bricks got thrown over them
Max got hit in the face for no reason
and it diverted the crew into different directions
violence descended as he heard someone shout
something about a revolution
but there was no revolution coming from this one,
just new air force ones
and as he watched the footlocker get raided
it came to him
He ran as fast as his legs could take him
and he was in time to see the windows of gamestation cave-in,
everyone ran in like housewives at a sale in debenhams
time was of the essence he didn't want anyone else to take it
it was his no one else could deserve it
he'd had enough of everyone having more than him
for so long he'd taken so much shit and before he knew it
he heard helicopters bellowing and police sirens whaling
as Bennet was halfway home clutching onto his playstation.

a deafening silence.
still in riot-gear dress,
he hadn't moved for hours
the beast was in his bedroom.
In a staring contest with
His stolen accomplishment.
He ran through the reasons;
how the police didn't do anything
how he was caught up in the moment
how someone else would have stolen it
how many times he'd been denied opportunity
how it was okay because before taking this he'd taken so much
how he never hit the tesco metro security guard once
how he'd have to go be a paper boy again in just two hours,
what he had now hadn't changed the fact he had worked hard
But he still couldn't open that box.
it still wasn't right.

Oh wah, wah, wah.

Why do i lie to the ones i love?
Why Lay with the girls i don't?
why when my friends call
i don't answer the phone,
and when opportunity knocks
the door wont open?
why do i put my voice in the pen, 
my promises on the page,
why is my honesty saved for the stage?
why do i always fight in others wars
and how come those i fight for
never come to my corner?
why after every time i try hard
i feel a need to try harder?
why do i always wait till the last minute?
why do i take the weight from those
that will resent it?
why do the women i see never seem to be
what was initially presented?
is there a reason my present can't
hold a candle to my past?
why does the promise of a prosperous future
feel too far?
why is the prettiest woman always on the other side of the bar?
is it my habitat that has me drawn to habits that are bad?
if my parents never broke-up would i still be the same man?
can i be given a route to which i can adhere?
and can the roadblock to my newly lit path not be my biggest fear
why do i always promise to be the man i was last year, next year?
how did the mediocre become smart enough to get together?
and how did the egos of the great let them takeover?
why do i see all my friends blow when i don't?
and always get the girls that blow when i don't?
why when happy, i look for a place to complain
why, after all these years, and all these changes
i still feel the same? why does it take a tragedy
for me to count my blessings?
why do i keep fuckin' with fate?
why do they hit me when it's a fact i don't break
why when i want to be so great,
and have full confidence in the words on this page
my hands still shake?
why keep on when you know so much is wrong?
because it's not my imperfections that make me great
but instead my struggle to correct them.

Friday, 5 August 2011

Tomorrow this will be gone.

I'm out the country
does she miss me yet?
I've been on a run
for three years
I've been running
and only now have i stopped
trying to catch up
with a girl yet to start.
she's smarter than I am
and in three months
put my back up
i only stopped
because I thought i saw the end
now all i have is another friend.
I just want
to stroke
and hold
and to let love in
but it's not strong enough
to knock the doors down
I guess I'm still outside town
hailing a cab down
pissed off because
she's inside lonely now
and doesn't want to be.
she wants me
but wont let herself tell herself.
She holds onto the last thing he gave her
the pain with leaving
and now it's all she sees when she sees him
and she loves him, so she loves pain.
And she becomes the reason for his absence
fear of being happy.
i believe that firmly.
as firm as the phone that rattles in my fist
drunkenly searching for help in a text
no good no good I'm no good for no one.

but loved by some, in five minutes I've got it
in books i see myself.
success stories of celebrities.
fantasy novels and comic books with norse gods.
I'm all anyone could ever need
and am replaced with ease.

Fingers to Diva (reply)

hold. the fuck. up.
no. no. no.
no you don't get to do that.
you don't get to fuck the friendship
because you didn't get to fuck me.

I"m not stupid Diva. I mean. I am.
I know I am and have been hiding under
a cloak made of bad poetry and interpretative dance
for some time now but,
I always thought you saw through that
and i thought you crawled under
and took out a torch for us to tell stories.

I thought for that, you made me feel like a kid.
I don't think to much, but of course, i do think a lot of you.
I think, I, thought, you were, there for me.
like, I could talk to you about anything
and it'd be okay and i could rest my head on you
and you'd think nothing of it because
you're smarter than i am and would always do better than me
i didn't think you'd be dumb enough to fall in love with me.

but you did. and now you've come to this realisation that,
guess what, I'm a prick, well go and fuck woods again
and join the club and become the number one fan
when I have never touched, kissed you or led you on.
I'm a dick that never got hard for you,
and if you told me. If I knew. it'd already be too late.

Last night
in a tent,
in the outside,
at night,
I slept with a girl.
it was my first time
with someone. ever.
She didn't know I was a virgin.
and she didn't have to,
but i wanted you to,
I wanted to get if off my chest
for so long to tell you because i tell you
everything about me but it seems
everything about me is unhealthy so
fuck it now you know and great
tell me I'm a cunt again diva please
get on that high ground and tell me again
how I'm fake, how I'm nothing
and I will smile and nod because I know.
but what really hurts me beyond the rejection
is that I thought you always knew and,
I thought you didn't mind.
I honestly thought you talked to me
because I was just, nice.

Diva to Fingers.

There's no point with you.
if you don't love me now, then
there's no point in trying anymore
and i don't know whether
you didn't get it
or you didn't care
that, for half a year
you've been a drawer full of mixed tapes
a desk-top filled to the brim with final drafts-
angry at my lack of appropriate metaphors
just to tell you how awesome you are.
love poems, loving you from afar,
loving you from the dark
freezing my heart before seeing it break
the only audience member I'd want
the only performer I'd perform to
the man i wish i could let my guard down to
for so long i've been dying to tell you,
killing myself over the words- I like you.

yesterday, In my drunken haze fingers,
I made a breakthrough.
see, I was so drunk,
I tried to text you what i was going through
I meant to say 'alone forever to wallow"
but my predictive text gave me "almond donous to wallow"
and I dropped my phone and fell. on my phone
and my phone broke and I cried in a field
and some guy took a picture
and I'm pretty sure it's going to turn into an internet meme.

I'm losing myself.
and realised I hadn't been me in a while
Since i became blind from staring
into the source of my life-
the eyes that have never looked twice
i was no longer myself. I wasn't Diva. I was lost.
and at a point that is arguably my lowest,
unable to move from a ground pulling down
and too weak to push up the falling sky
I shivered as fast as i my heart pumped
thoroughly and utterly fucked
completely due to falling in love
for a whole day i was unable to move
so I didn't move. I stayed in my place
and decided to wait
until Lost went and diva came.

truth is,
you're unhealthy fingers.
you can only be loved in fantasy
you're a john hughes movie,
still rocking cowboy boots
double denim and a curtain fringe
and in another place, in another time
you would have been the shit.

now, you're a phase i'd rather forget.

Wednesday, 3 August 2011

Jade Bruce.

hey sean hows it going man!
i have missed you man!
liking the new beard!...... kind of ha ha!
nah only kidding.
hows america going!
hows the food tasting!
hows your fatal atraction girlfriend!
{tell me shes not boiling rabbits, i own four of them)
how are the buildings
the parks
the games stores.
how are the black people over there oh yeah you cant speak to them!
ha ha!
we will keep this on a dLo.
but most importantly, how are you!
man it has been weird that i only fill like half myself right now!
that your not here!
i should only be eating half as much.
i should only be speaking half as much.
i should only play video games half of- wait!
i am not going to go that far! ha ha!
the interveiw went quite good
but not remarkable
hence the reason that i didt get the job!
things in england are going quite good
i mean the air is kind of fresh!
the moon is coming out quite a lot at night time.
the birds are singing sooo l... ok!
its crap over here, you happy!
man you always put pressure on me!
ha ha!
while your accomplishing girls
great food
great buildings
great weather
great places faces
{i just rhymed pat on the back!}
the only thing i have accomplished
is infilltrating
the building on spliner cell.
but hey splinter cell ROCKS!
man i love you i miss you
i am happy for you sooo much
just remember your my only freind
and my fouth brother!
just remember
you have got a b ball game here waiting so hurry up and come boi!

things are easier for girls

a girl isn't a woman
till she grows some breasts
a boy isn't a man
until he is put to the test.