OUT IN THE SILENCE

Out in the silence
 a platform of refugees of the life led
shouted why God remained in silence
cursed him  damned him
but
my soul knows joy in God's silence.
and  we cannot experience  or know real silence.
There will only be silence in death
to conceal evidence
of those that live on,
paying the currency
of pain
for love lost
and paying in silence.
I damn the day
that I ever said one single thing
that I thought meant something
but then thought of silence.
I was present for the death of a patient
who pleaded
for physical dissolution
asked me if I
can  reveal God's love
or at least
his silence
but not the God you think you hate
or love but another
one, only,
silent to the
endless stream of banality.
With only one message
Silence heals all in the end,
in the death.

poem shit

Are you angry? Shall save my silence?

Have i ever been?

No but you been distant

Distant? ha that's cos I'm bitching mad

why?

why?

why?

well, cos,
it sounds more serious, doesn't it.

What

does?

Start sending me multiple choice, all i do is bubble in,

none of the above anyway

1. are you angry cos you suck dick too much

2. are you angry because inspiration has gone

3. are you angry because you cant pack a pair of balls in your jeans

4. are you angry because you didnt read my latest poem

beloved.

I did too read your beloved poem, it was in my mailbox and on my wall remember

yeh

now

no, not
none of the above i just can't be online that much right now.

Are you gonna send me an ass shot now

what?

do you want to send some nice shots

yes

no.!
Don't disgust me!

Youve changed!

Not that i know of, i'm just older maybe 
and have less time for garbage talk.
My life and those that surround me have also changed, 
that happens you know.

Fuckin ell you used to love it

what a shame,

Maybe I just lost my sense of humor, maybe I turned into my mother after all... there's a frightening thought.

Yeh scarey

maybe I've been writing too much about death lately .

Who knows.

yeh best send.

what?
the wishes from my deathbed
should i ever die?

why?

Dont you wanna send anything
to save me?

All my last wishes would pile up to infinity
but after I go I'll have the death volumes in your inbox, just for you OK

are you being funny.

forever

That song bout waiting for you
well I can't do that cos
theres time left to live.
I rue the day
you said I was another alternative
you sent me into solitude
made me access myself
and made me understand the truth.
I was bumbling along
happily thinking bout death
but your credit cards made me
worry not.
I FORGOT that you are in the lottery
thought it was just me
and theres others
cos your body is your alter
She dont really think about him
and I can't stop thinking bout that
but she thinks lots bout herself
and if her ass has a certain quip quop
today and she thinks
bout her diminishing womanhood.
Be a John Wayne old school kinda a man man
and admit that shes the  most honest soul  you ever met.
just cos and even though
she stopped them e.mails
letters from Gods paradise

NEWS FROM ROME

When news came from Rome
that art had lied
she wailed like a dog
for the day he died.




And she cut her hair 
and threw it away
and mounted the stair
wishing night to day

and in those years that came
in the park she would walk
where he had heard the nightingale talk


news from Rome
that he was gone
all art with him
all art that shone


To the dome they carried him
her lament for a love
that had run its course
yet had never begun

And although their love
was never done,
A love so true 
a love well run

you and me

ME AND YOU
> She was so dampening to the spirit,
> and she forgot how to bring tea to the bedroom
>  a heavy skin congealing around a fleshless ghost.
> spinning silly scenes
> of phantom recall
> and when the high tides came back
> she saw shadows in the shadows
> And she made affirmations -
> like this
>" Most people think individuals should choke out or kill their 
> romantic loves
> for anyone but the person they are currently with.
>  thus assuming fluffy moments into forms that bend love into an 
> unshapen thing
>  out of all the meaningless clouds".
> I once had a friend who believed in silence
>  not a vow of silence just its prison
> and lived where waves weeped upon whitened shores
> and one day upon the quay she said
>   "To all of you who can be honest with yourself and choose
>  sacrifice,
>  I hope you’re making the best decision for you and everyone else 
> involved."
>  she sat in silence feeling ashamed for still loving people
>  who she loved in the past.
> And it was a past passed over to the memory of illusion
>  "I never stopped loving people who were long removed from my life
>   I should feel guilt for not “letting go” of those past loves ".She 
> said.
>   But the silence was about something else
> she turned to me on a false day of summer saying
> "it’s ethical or healthy to allow yourself to romantically love more 
> than one
> person for any enduring period of time. "
> She looked out to sea and remembered not the memory of loss but the 
> memory of
> her silence
>  I said upon that 
kingdom of waves
>and storm.
> -" Everyone should pursue the one true love of their life
> and stick to it exclusively for the rest of their life". But what I 
> said
> was for love of voice not mind
>

cunts

Moaning cunts bleating on about the council house they get for fuck all

 being damp or infested with some shit.

 These cunts get right on my swinger.

 Usually they go to the local rag 

and the muppet editor puts it on the front page.

 Usually some tart with numerous kids and if the father is present he looks like a mong mong numbskull. 

Council houses should be of good quality for those that deserve it,

 ie those that have contributed to the system or society, 

and not for all the ever growing number of social misfits

 that have made repeated wrong life choices.

 Wake up you cunts and live in the real world 

and provide your own housing

 and stop expecting every cunt 

who works their tits off paying for your wreckless fuck ups.

DEAD LOVERS

 DEAD LOVERS

I still see the wide bending river
 her eyes unloving and 15 years when I left
never to embrace her ever again.
 I can still remember her lips not touching mine
As I walked away down the path amongst the hedgerows
Looking over the water.
Looking over to Appledore.

would she be waiting  for me?
Its all alien now.
But afraid
But afraid
to dry  the tears she rolled

but now rolled away to another.

Before the letter came

the usual letter,

you know

I'd like us still to be friends but

PRAYING TO ENNUI

It has been a long time since the train stopped at Bideford
the train stops no more , its  wrote here,

over the river is the old station.

One day  Ennui  was on the express that stopped and never moved on.
 Ennui and its state is still the main reason why I am alive today.
  I have overcome nothing and nothing is everything,
 without him and its reign.
It is now nearly 5 years since I saw the river.
and my soul married itself to world weary world wishful,
worm.

In a room

of eternity
where my friend was Ennui sat in a corner
,unfaithful, unloyal but faithful to the last
his face seems rock solid

but  whom I have also not seen.
 I continue to pray that he will intervene in this  saga and reveal himself.
  I have a wonderful contact with my lover Ennui whom I have also not seen in years.

monsters poem alla bukowski

monsters poem

They are very hot big fat bitches,
lesbian and so horny for each other
as they wildly undress each other,
Damian is telling me this
he bought Binocs
Two fat lesbian cunt eating bitches he says
Two Fat Ladies and Legs Eleven As Shirley Temple Bar Celebrates Her 700th Bingo Show, hes looking somewhere else now
but its still bitches
Damian back to the dykes says She's the queen bee - the star,
those other two are just her little workers.
fuck theyse having a party GI mean I couldn't have a lesbian at my party.
Theres girls there in their *bathing suits G
he spits out this bite
They got cunt splayed on the bar ,
that cunt she was chewing earlier,
Damian says I used to think there was just fat and skinny dykes.

No man there is horrendous as wellOff the circuit you are man replies D. He spits this out
Damian Spalding spins the binocs at both Los Angeles's Girl Bar and the Les Factory
. And along the way he's bridged a gap between something fun to do."Give them Mudderfockin Binocs here a while man" I says.