Sunday, 15 January 2012

My love.

My love doesn't reply to my texts,
belittles me among friends,
and when we're alone she only
ever talks of other men.
My love is mine, half the time
My love doesn't want to go home
she wants to know where to go
when the pubs close.
My love's luck has ran out
her weight fluctuates
My love doesn't fit in
but hates standing out
My love has had enough of love
and wants to be someone else
She calls me at her worst
and only in poems do I confess
my urge to be hers
She's up to her neck in ugliness
and couldn't be more beautiful
for it.
She's beaten, down and out but can't
She's taken everything thrown at her
and moved forward.
My love has me chasing the high
of the first time seeing her
genuinely smile.
My love was mine
but it was only for a while.

Monday, 9 January 2012

play the game.

I remember being told
I was on a wayward track
I asked that teacher
if there was anything wrong with that
Never paid attention in lessons
couldn't hear answers
had too too many questions
schooled after class
couldn't sleep at night
my mind was too fast
teachers never got me right
taught in remedial
it's shocking what a label can do
Now I live with a point to prove
past the point where I don't
feel like I'm still in school
Not a day when
my eye's not on the ball
And every day I ball harder
I'm counted out
like it's the two thousand and two
F.A. Cup semi final
and my name is ray Parlour.
Next thing you know
it's the two thousand and two
F.A. Cup semi final
and "it's only Ray Parlour"