Student shopping list

Remember you're well skint
but treat yourself to a pint
then a pill
and a designer duvet,
as long as I'm going
I'll keep buying till I feel comfortable enough to
not look so dodgey in your shop,
even though I've been here 10 times before
walking the floor
for the non-brand noodles.
Stash the rest for tonight,

have a glass of pinot
and just a drag
get yourself some crisps-
maybe a large glass.
I'll have a shot but I hate them
I'll do a line but it does nothing for me
I'll buy this now because I can't quite remember if I have it in this colour,
and by the way I'll have another
whiskey and coke,
make it a double and diet-
3 times lucky as long as you don't get stuck in the hole
Don't eat- get a donnar
don't eat- don't eat- don't eat.
And a pen-
make it a nice one and a plastic one,
you'll only break one up for the shoot.
Remember we've got to be quiet,
SCREAM and laugh
and laugh and scream
and go and see these doctors about those recurring dreams,
get twelve extensions
and 1 with every meal,
slice them nice
ring your fella
go back and grin
you're nice and thin
and fat and fat and fatten you up
we're better-
never gone, just another

and another
and keep smiling
Itch it now it'll be like chicken pox,
just keep laughing

and you'll be dandy.

Inky eyed reflection

I hate to say "you're right"
so I wont.
My life is a ticket for an empty showing,
thousands of masterpieces
that aren't worth knowing,
My eyes can't be trusted,
and especially after a glass of two,
neither can I.
Vodka made me brag for singing
but the truth came out
when I said I'd lost my voice in a fight with a bull.
I hate to say "you're right"
because it is so miserably wrong;
to be made for writing
and writing made from pain.

The bible and the babble

Dear father
who art in my veins,
voices of vice
birthed in the contrite lice
running the apocalypse down
my suspicious lanes.
Dear mother
who laid the sacred nill,
your intoxified vanity
spread nails to my will
but could not kill
the sanity
I let spike my facial
heritage.

Good girls listen and work
whilst they obey
they never feel dismay
they know what they are
and who they can't.
Stay my shephard
crying from wolves bitter
comfort,
I will carry sins
of my nothings,
your hushing,
on my imploding muse.

But not whisper at all
so not to hurt you.

The letter to Oz

Fear is love
and there is nothing more ferocious than the creature herself.
Listening quietly and glazing politely
wishing crooked smiles on the windowsill,
enraptured fingers hovering over your desolate skin.
You loose your mind
it'll never come back,
not without the rats and worms.
Living with new memory
speaking, running, understanding
loneliness and fear.
Fear the affair that casts your endless sleep,
how I wish the kitten would lick my wounds once more.
The empty pit of conciousness
forbidding.
I know that of wrong
but I wish it right anyway.

This is my poem for poetry picnic week 23 http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com/2012/01/poetry-picnic-week-23-new-york-times.html

Faith

I have faith in you,
I see, I know, I believe in you;
but why is it those who have faith in what they see
always seem to regret it later,
and those of you have faith in higher places
will never know.

I have faith in me,
no guides or spirits make me see
that this life should count as much
as any eternal moment I will ever have,
I have faith in me.

But sometimes I'm irreversibly wrong,
and rude and disappointing and even weak.
I say I believe but it's just to keep me going,
keep me knowing that if there is nothing left for my bones
when they have sung their last crack
they'll be none the wiser than I am in that moment.

Faith in nothing,
faith in anatomy and logics that keep me to the ground-
soon I'll be in it,
and that's all there is to it,
to keep me believing in nothing
but all the beauty I see.

Twilight

The snow has forgotten our appointment,
and the sun has forgotten where to shine,
hour after minute after the loss of time
twilight is around us
until the dark begins again.

Woman on street in B&W

I'm on the tip of your capture, licking acid in red light, with your thumb staining the grey blur I became. A momentum ruined by the light.

Pack up your tins and help me make some money dear,
the oil drenched her beauty
and she's only been gone,
she has only been gone
Wash away and she'll only be gone.

And I felt like tonight was today,
set on my heart having done it's pay,
but the rims have rings where the eyeball lives,
and the trunk gives away its age
like the knuckles of your grandparents do.

I'm on the tip of your capture, licking acid in red light, with your thumb staining my grey blur,I became a moment ruined by delight.