Without you every morning would feel like going back to work after a holiday,
Without you I couldn't stand the smell of the East Lancs Road,
Without you ghost ferries would cross the Mersey manned by skeleton crews,
Without you I'd probably feel happy and have more money and time and nothing to do with it,
Without you I'd have to leave my stillborn poems on other people's doorsteps, wrapped in brown paper,
Without you there'd never be sauce to put on sausage butties,
Without you plastic flowers in shop windows would just be plastic flowers in shop windows,
Without you I'd spend my summers picking morosley over the remains of train crashes,
Without you white birds would wrench themselves free from my paintings and fly off dripping blood into the night,
Without you green apples wouldn't taste greener,
......
I was once a poet
I was once a poet,
In a far faraway land.
My people were imbibe my poems
They were telling me:
It cures depression
It is against oppression.
It is a bullet in the heart of repression
......
'Does the blackened ruin, situated in the stony ground between Durraj and Mutathallam, which did not speak to me, when addressed, belong to the abode of Ummi Awfa?
'And is it her dwelling at the two stony meadows, seeming as though they were the renewed tattoo marks in the sinews of the wrist?
'The wild cows and the white deer are wandering about there, one herd behind the other, while their young are springing up from every lying-down place.
'I stood again near it, (the encampment of the tribe of Awfa,) after an absence of twenty years, and with some efforts, I know her abode again after thinking awhile.
'I recognized the three stones blackened by fire at the place where the kettle used to be placed at night, and the trench round the encampment, which had not burst, like the source of a pool.
......
I am waiting for my case to come up
and I am waiting
for a rebirth of wonder
and I am waiting
for someone to really discover America
and wail
and I am waiting
for the discovery
of a new symbolic western frontier
and I am waiting
......
Implicating
yourself, and telling lies
was an art.
There was always
a trapdoor. Giving a lot
more, than getting less.
Same unthinking
prevails. You forget to
......
Once, I was passing by
an old post office about to die
and saw a dog who was shy
the dog made a very appealing cry,
from his little black glowing eyes
It was such a strange feeling...
was happy to have a friend like him
but sad for the person who left him
......
So precious yet so short
Life is indeed to us
Walking around in circles,
wasting around our time
Later, realizing that
Our selfish runs weren't important
Praising the wrong things
Wishing a fairytale life
Well guess what, our world ain't dreamtopia
......
Of what Importance is money
In a Disastrous World,
What is the point of being rich?
to live all lonely and be sad
What is the point of building a mansion?
to show Power & Wealth while your life is a misery
What is the point of having a million cars?
if you can drive one at a time
Why is the point of using social media?
counting your likes & views
......
I sat and stared for hours
at the nothing that I wrote
today the words just wouldn't come
no I idea would float.
no inspiration took me
no motivation came
all I had to show that day was a blank and empty page
Humanity is capable of such beautiful dreams
and horrible nightmares,
For Our World Has a lot For every man’s Dream
but Not Every man’s Greed
So you see this is life greatest rule,
it gives to givers, and takes from takers
Those Full of themselves,
on the outside are often starving on the inside
So as sad as it is,
Many people get Heaven and Hell wrong,
......