Amidst the whispered, midnight sweet-somethings,

A certain someone laughed, “I’ve met my match.”

To which the other, a fool, shut the door,

I just hope it was left on the latch.

Beginning, Middle, 

Beer, wine, to unwind our minds, so hers can stand square on to mine

I tried my best, tried to drop a shoulder, tried to smoulder, tried to smoke

But I choked

Frog in my throat

Ribbiting, rabbiting, croaking on about nothing: crap jokes, our folks, ghosts we both know, a past trip to the coast, im boring, im a bore, she stifles a snore into a sigh, checking phone, think its time we should go, she drops me home, thats nice of her, if you go down this road, turn left, thats the best way

we’ll do this again another day?

“Yeah okay”

There’s nothing else to say

little things

I had a dream and then I had another,

Where I took cover, where I cowered, where londons towers fell in fires hot at hell, tell myself its not real, its not real, making a mountain out of a molehill, making a meal out of the scraps of my thoughts, the snacks my insatiable mind scoffs to feel something, anything, consume, still can’t shake the doom, eyes still clouded by gloom, hello nice to meet you, you at uni yeah? What do you do? Don’t really care, you’re all cool clothes, nice hair, I know its not fair but go away, you’re not all there, I am tho, I’ve seen it, my dreams paint Armageddon scenes on the canvas of my tuesdays, mondays, midweek bad dreams, wednesdays, post-teen reality, thursdays, elephant and castle, rain spitting like piss, trains I miss, park benches I sit, seethe at the trees, whitechapel, winter freeze, forget how to breathe, what do I need to read now? 22 pages, takes ages, takes hours ploughing through work to tell employers im not playing, not toying with them, my application is worthwhile, Im the sort of square to organise my files: university, personal, band, not sure which is more handy to my life’s plan, I’m.gonna be great,

but you’re stupid,

shut up, im gonna be great, gonna be good,


Yeah me, sailing the high seas of the adult world like fucking blackbeard,

don’t be absurd, you’re dumb, no woman loves you cept for your mum,

you done?

Nope, only just begun, only just getting started, you stink like a dogs corpse that’s just farted, normally you make puns in your poems tom but what about this one? Cant even do that and that’s the easiest way to be funny, when was the last time your poo wasn’t runny? You eat crap, you’re getting fat, too much booze, too much secondary smoke choking you, too many minutes where its your own hand thats groping you, how are you coping you worthless piece of shit?

I dunno

That girl you like’s tits are being bit, covered in spit by some dumbfucks tongue as he licks her nips, licks her shit off her asshole, that could be you you know, that could be you making love, she’s below you’re above, doing a grown up hug, hearing every pump of her blood

Go away for gods sake!!!!

But this is you remember, this is you’re past, you’re forever, you’re not clever, never were, never will be, you don’t even know where you are right now, do you?

I do!

Go on then

Errrrrr….. oh Jesus christ, my head’s spinning, im rolling like a dice, where will I land? Hand reaches out for the wall, helps me fall onto a bed, oh shit this is my one, move my head so it rests on a pillow my parents money bought, shut my eyes, shut my eyes, shut my mind, shut my mind and drift into the night


Read back on the words written in dim light

Surprised they even rhyme

Surprise they ahdere to the stream of time

Kinda shocked that those thoughts were mine

I sigh

I look out of my window

I live in a house which is the end of a terrace

So when I look out I see two roads, one leading away from me, one coming across me

Someone planted the trees and bushes in the gardens front gardens in front of me

The tarmac has got frosted edges

I can’t make out exactly what the ice looks like but if got close enough I’m sure I could see the little crystalline structures the ice makes

See the drops of water which hang off the end of the tiny architecture

And glaze it with a cold moisture

So that when the rays hit, sometimes you see a rainbow

Its weird because winters persistent nibble is so warming

I thank god for this

And everything else which remains undisturbed by the ugly face of fighting:

Hills which roll and get battered by the wind and stand as silhouettes against the red burn of the sun

A cat lolloping around infront of a crackling fireplace, stretching out its back before it finds a comfortable shape to make

My dad who understands

The pure bliss of a second

My nan and my sister

Who shout back when they’re heckled

My friends whose eyes ache

But who always give me a smile

My mum who works hard

To make it all worthwhile


Through the bleak freeze of winter,
and the somnolent summer haze,
Through the all-too-present presents,
and anonymous yesterdays,
There is a bridge arching,
parallel with the curve of the earth,
Unflinching in whatever wandering wind,
unwinced, unmoved, unhurt,
The concrete steps down on the right,
usher one way to go,
And its the same walking down the left,
just with a different name for the road,
It’s seen trees grow up to be men,
and the premature death of infant blossom,
It’s felt the skipping of feet unweighted by joy,
and the leaden trudge through the mud of rock bottom,
Heard the whispered sweet-somethings of brand-new love,
slurred by the bridge’s heady setting,
Witnessed one lover walk away from the the other,
down opposite steps – a split worth regretting,
It’s seen those who can’t envisage a descent left or right
cos their young eyes are too clouded by black,
Eyes which brace, clamp shut-tight as they fall,
the bridge hears their bones crack
It’s enough to make a man cower,
before nature’s knuckles, sharpened to hurt
But still the bridge stoically arches,
parallel with the curve of the earth.

bitter community

Melancholy has dunked me in its syrupy bath
Waiting for a bus at the aldwych
Doesn’t seem to wanna come
Spelt wanna like wanner because im so knackered
Old man in new shoes
I can’t thank my mum enough for them
Sounds sarcastic but isn’t
Dwelling, my heart’s swelling
My nose is smelling nothing but kinda-cold-road
Cmon billy big bollocks winter
Freeze me
I dare ya
Bite at my fingers like a scabby rat
Naah still typing though
In moments like this I just refuse to acknowledge the weather’s even there
Complete seething misery but utter exhilaration
My university lecturers have no idea I feel so effervescently isolated
No idea how I view the backs of peoples heads without the slightest interest in their faces
Cos I know their smiles crack their cheeks the same way mud does, indifferently dried by out by the sun
their mottled eyes are just gna make my blood boil, like the pasta I might eat later
Make the water as salty as the ocean
Ah god how I wanna stand thigh-deep in the sea
Somewhere bleak like the pebbledashed beaches on the south coast
Where you can’t see the sand ooze round your fetid toes, the water is so shit-stained
I cant escape the self-inflicted pressure to make this rhyme somehow
For goodness sake noones bloody reading
Don’t blame em hahahah
I’ll wait until me and noone are sitting on clouds, heaven’s pillows, with thorntons chocolate smeared joyously on our chops, before we talk
Ill say “hello no-one how are you this is kurt cobain and immanuel kant I call him cunt as a nickname he laughs his bollocks off when I do”
And so even in the ecstacy of the garden of eden they’ll feel as bitter as I do now
My irreverence will make their skin itch
They’ll maniacally scratch off their outer layer
Leaving their body throbbing, mauled vessels screaming in agony, spluttering clotted liquid, like a smoker hacking up lung
That’ll be some sort of vengeance
Some sort of justice
And yh I’m a bastard for saying that
But the world is full of bastards so maybe thats inescapable
And at least then we’ll have some sort of connection
Some sort of community by essential feeling
Beyond our 7 mutual friends

suns of lundun (v1)

Roll up, sign up, you’re city needs you
Roll up your roll up, let the cherry burn true against the serene, green milieu of aged childhood dreams,
Sign up, pack up your suburban blues
roll up on a train called a tube,
Lubricated by the oils of blood, sweat and toil
Who’s for the game? its just a game
Being splayed by the cold bullets of rain
Under a sky always battleship grey
Entrenched rich and poor,
Skyscrapers soar,
Businessmen flying, spitting fire,
Cars tyres scream like sirens
Blitzing up to uniforms trudging a concrete mud,
always moving, always tired, always trying
Alls fair, no rules, no blame,
Who’s for the game?
Owen’s going and his review was glowing
Weren’t it? Well maybe I’m just joking

But when the smoke has cleared and leaves only a mirror
I can see myself here a little clearer
So enough of the sarcastic jingoisms
Cos bored to tears me, I really don’t miss him
Semi-detached dreaming and its middle aged face,
Are replaced by the consuming scenes of this place:
Waterloo bridge, thames silvered by the moon
A ghostly mist drifts whistling an old cockney tune
Hi, you alright, got a light, my names tom
Lovely to meet you, what dya do, where you from
The suns of london warm all our cheeks
The viscous air is one we all breathe
The city don’t care but is always forgiving
Of the play-fighting
It’s all alright when the suns shining
When the suns shining

what’s yours is mine (sportswear punk)

If I am what I think
Then I couldn’t tell ya
If I am what I drink
Then I guess that I’m just Stella
If I get blue
I’ll be sure to bell ya
If you’re all heart
My crying line will surely melt ya
To say the smooth outweighs the rough
Would be to bluff
Would be to double bluff
I’m sipping rum out of a mug
Is that enough?
It don’t seem enough

Life’s a bitch and then you die
That’s why we say hi
To friend on the weekend
That pun was Nasty, just ignore me
Oh em gee! You’re so meta! You’re so clever
Nah just bored and at the end of my tether
Cos when days are as blank as my bank account
You delve into a familiar mind
And discover jarring half-rhymes,
Arrhythmic lines,
Fluctuating time,
Hate-crashed parties,
Discordant harmonies which you try and resolve
But that’s in vain:
The sportswear punk’s cold heart
Is a plastic that won’t mould
The who?
The kid’s who wanna/don’t wanna die before they get old
The kids who don’t need to sell their soul

Maybe that’s just me
I’ve been seething since I was teething
Punching the ceiling since I was breathing
But I’m not convinced I’m the only one
The idea doesn’t satisfy
Because I see the gunpowder in your eyes
Can smell the salt of tears you cry
Blurring your vision so you’re blissfully blind
Recognise the life you’re trying to find
What’s yours is mine
What’s yours is mine
And together we’ll be fine
Together we’ll be alright