This Way Up

The world has turned into an evil and ugly place where judgements are made because of a person’s race, the colour of their skin and the colour of their hair, building up prejudices, their hateful eyes stare: black eyes; blue eyes; brown; green; hazel; and grey. Why don’t people listen to what others have to say? Is it because we don’t want to hear about any other life but our own? And without thinking, we make decisions and innocents are condoned. Intelligible capacity to understand faith in every individual culture, yet all we perceive is the outside, and how we are sculptured.

In the image of peace, some believe us to be born, while history teaches us about centuries filled with hatred and scorn. Imperial explorers assuming the position of supreme commanders of the land, owning the expanse of the widest ocean to the tiniest grain of sand. Different religions attack each other, they feud, they war, despite the forbidding of violence written in divine law. Every country fighting its neighbour for the liberation of land, shifting and dividing into fundamentalists terrorist gangs, using capital or death as a wager to influence belief and faith, never admitting that a mistayk was a mistake. Men clad in anonymous clothing, showing nothing but their eyes, people hiding behind masks, are they our enemies in disguise?

Mighty western continents conflict as they strive for a world of peace, their efforts are penalised with global disease while tyrants dictate oppressing the poor, the concept falsely propagates further requirement for another endless war. As ants, erasure of history is disappearing unnoticed, power and wealth rules over compassionate bliss, the rich are getting richer; a legacy of pride and corruption, is this the humanist picture? The need for nuclear weapons dictates the human need for greed, money and technology have more importance than the starving infants who die and bleed. We have the money to advance weapons of mass destruction which feed all these wars, but where is the finance to feed the hungry and poor?

Fury rules over logic, impulse over thought, passion over rationality while the rest of us are losing hope. Humankind, civilisation: we’re wrapped up in moral savage, dripping with blood, dirty murder and carnage. Revenge, hypocrisy, ignorance, evil over good always wins, the rape of humanity and the seven deadly sins. Distrust, deceit, secrets and lies, consuming guilty wealth whilst the child dying, cries. No-one wants to listen, no-one wants to learn, we argue, hurt, fight, kill, conquer, crash and then we burn, we see black, we see white, there is no in-between. The world is emotionally cold and mean.

So, which true human being would want the honour and bequeath the Earth’s crown, when the past, present and future of this world, is simply, so up-side-down?

past lives

Masters of the universe, subversive nurse cursed open wounds, hurt words curt uncured, dirty laundry laundering sorcery lending chronology, I’m so sorry, was that an apology for your fucked up psychology, since when was love, politics, life, humanity, each a coloured ball jiggling unfunny in the national lottery of sloth and slobbery? Robbery and empire cartography, top shelf pornography, this is the state of the world today…

Hickory dickory stupidly bickering, random heartbreak openly sickening, there’s a queue love, this one’s for truth, made of tougher stuff than  you, Scarecrow, Tin Man, lack of mind, short fused scams, heart beat fast, bass down low, I roar turning down the radio, lion turned Liono, I have the power though, cats paws no longer paused out come the claws purrs are loose, Thundercats Ho, there’s few who can cut me down, but nobody can stop the show down came the rain on my Wizard of Oz, bleeding red into Narnian snow just because.

So what. Blow me. Bite me. All inspite of me. I’m inside me. Not you. Not he. Spreading the hebejebeez, knees like jelly babies, using voodoo, erasing memories. Drowning in air like it’s fair. Glug-Glug. Who are you? I do like you do, few do, like who? Doctor do little, that’s my GP. Peekaboo. Not there when I needed you. Boo hoo.

Hit me with a dilemma disappearing for days. I got my fuel fixed, I get paid for rage: mercenary without mercy, I stay curly you stay straight. Get back down and breathe, pray for forgiveness, does submission come easy? Assassin angel not Anne of Green Gables, times are changing and I’m able to switch off from the loss, jumping into a glass table, ripping off labels, dream me a real but I’m unable…

drifting ninja killed ya backflipping jujitsu stabbing ya headlocking your face nunchakus mother forgot your place it’s a state fix up lake placid video game craze hijacking Grand Theft Auto maze my deadlock daze happy nomad childhood phase i’m amazed

…now I’m on the streets, trying to make a raise me up the right way Mum left and Dad passed away, mud on bloodied knees, born out of wedlock me, child of the twentyfirst century, no idea about family, who cared for me, I’ve always had nobody, so when you see me, sitting here with palms open in the cold, ask about my past lives before you make your eyes roll turning up your nose.

Mary had a little lamb

Bored of this game, the words, the nerds, the thoughts, the birds, have you heard, the herd, uncultured curred, as if shepherds slurred, who would have stirred, after all these years, days later, same layer, more by myself than ever, but what does it matter? Scatter, I said. Leave. Shoo. Never needed any of you. Bleeding me dry, bored of crying. I need to hunt. Slay the cunt. Little bastard what started this rampage, sisters in bondage, wrapped in bandage, outsmarted by rage, escaped the pain, abandoned cage, on a search for my sage, who shall I save? Not you. Needing solitude, power renewed, no more curfew, antedote to glue, pay what’s due, bless you, ha, no, baby don’t fret, try the sixth alphabet instead of debiting debt, debating what’s left. Which is nothing. Which is something. Kindly remove. Rid me of the anguish, tell me my dreams my little poison pill, lead me, leave me, to do as I will. Detonate. Explode. I hear you.

Semi seasoned state of fate, living death out of date, it’s a new over, a brand new day, drowned the stupid mermaid in the lake at the fete, we have new balls as lucid and as translucent-red as the cherry on a bakewell cake, charged and guilty of murder released on conditional bail escaping magistrates case, erasing daily date rape, forfeit self harming maced mistake in my face, injecting gluten into invisible membrane, defending everyday, rejecting the same, ejecting the sane, washing blood stains, war games, well, fair play. I want out, no doubt, sicking on cyanide, guilty pleasured fairground rides, supersize suicide, colonised franchise, ostracised spectres spectating, circumcised supervised genocide, each of us at the expense of every megabyte, gigabyte, data created and cremated to hook you up, buy now: pay later, it’s a shame buttercup, try, never is too late, bite the bait, you’re no shark, you’re just little biddy fish, as if I can’t handle it no qualms with being selfish.

Lost myself side ways, crab stole the ship away, bit like Captain Jack and the pebble stowaway. It’s foreplay, templates, tempered Templar Knight takes me away, it’s business, Mary Magdalen synthesis persists, if she can do it, I can do it, just do it, Nike do it, now I’m feeling tired. And my eyes are awkward, belly situated in Jonah, communicating through sonar Imma soar shooting star to the solar yard and catch ya after playing ball hard, cut up my credit card rating starred like G-star, gangstar, ready to pair, ready to par, ready to part with your heart, ripping apart the grin from your smart arse, I can do anything because the jist of it is – well, I’m not giving the secret away – but seen, these worker bees see it as arrogance, it’s just a matter of angular substance, substantial, collaborative swaggering parlance.

Pressing muscles, sucking mussels, oysters are gross to eat, clicking clucking, shunning rookies, milk and cookies, freshing darkness, orb generates muchness and you don’t know it’s me, blind farness, freefalling, without a harness, no need to keep me, you can’t feel me, won’t let you steal me, decreed national treasure with an Honours degree, twisted out my tree, you are three button moon, Mr Spoon, moomins dance at hundred eighty degrees, still chundling taxed insuranced student fees or is all of this, hitherto, because I’ve had no sleep?

sarcasm: in dating profiles

So I shortened this but I’ve changed my mind, let’s do detail for the physical and mental analysis of the person you are currently and momentarily curious about…but on these things it changes with the blink of an eye right, so these words might be pretty futile. All you really want is a photograph. That’s where you’re hoping these words will take you. Something you can ogle. In the meantime, I will torture you with more paragraphs and if you haven’t died of boredom by the end of it, maybe you will be lucky enough to find yourself requesting an image of the best photo I can find of myself.

My objective is to save you from asking any questions because, and no offence or through any fault of your own, although it’s not you but collectively, everyone as a whole, are asking the same questions and answering these same questions is becoming ridiculously tedious – at least this way you will know whether or not you think you are “compatible” as I don’t want to waste your time or my own, life is too short, if you like what you read then you know what to do (ask for a photo *yawn*). So, in essence, I’m actually doing this for your benefit, I’m that kind – I know, you can save the applause for later.

I have short short hair – yes, it used to be long down my back, I’ve had it short for about two years now, less hassle in the mornings. But guess what, hair grows. It’s a scientific miracle that your parents should perhaps be made aware of but you’re not strong enough to say anything are you? I suggest you move on to the next one.

I’m a bit random, quirky, odd – in a good way. I won’t say I’m unique or different as that’s just a cliché every person bangs on about. Mimics: “I’m like nobody you have ever met…” – well that would be because every body is emulating a ‘celebrity’ or those Photoshop’d pictures in magazines, so yeah, you wouldn’t be the same as anyone you’ve actually met.

I am not sure how I have come to be single when I pray to God every night for an everlasting love but nevertheless I am indeed here and I have not hooked myself up with ten kids or a fraudulent benefit scam for a house, a previous marriage or a divorce or separation or anulment or an engagement that went wrong or bodies stuffed in the boot of my car. CRB check is completely clear. The only blemishes are the ones that appear on my face after eating too much chocolate, and fish and chips. And yes, they really do give me spots, it’s not a myth. Maybe a few blips on a credit check but hey, we’re in a recession, have you not noticed?

I don’t appreciate waking up so early in the mornings, if I could choose, I would much rather be a vampire (minus the bloodthirst). I’m currently working in project management for wireless equipment so customers can import their wondrous technologies into various parts of the world, I’ve been doing this for almost two years now – oh my god time flies – opportunities present themselves for travel and when they do, I take them wholeheartedly. So far Tunisia and Belarus have been scribbled on to my world map. Previous to this, travel was limited in the UK when I worked in a construction consultancy. When I was in book publishing, I managed to get myself to Germany for the Book Fair. It was awesome. Just because I like reading, does not make me a geek. And moreso than ever since I haven’t managed to find a book to engross me recently.

I’ve lived in London, Oxford and Manchester, I’m originally from the West Midlands but I don’t have the crummy accent to go with it (thank my lucky stars for that one) I guess you’ll be thanking your lucky stars too. I like having some me-time since I have nobody to spend any we-time with. I prefer quick plans and randomness rather than long-ass diaries filled with plans. Where did the fun go?

I have compassion, understanding, I’m not complacent, I don’t take things for granted, I’m generous, open, trusting, selfless, loving, etc etc etc you can look up more adjectives for “stellar” in the thesaurus if you like…I’m actually really quite vulnerable and shy and quiet and self-conscious (bet you thought I was going to say self-centred, ha!) and I realise it’s also not good to publicise weaknesses but hey, I’m brave and learning and growing as a human all the time. I make mistakes, it’s part of my journey to death.

I prefer tropical desert heat to subarctic temperatures hands down. I would love to travel extensively to the not-so-touristy places, Transylvania (rescue me from Dracula, hm, or find me one) or Zambia (it’s lush but potential kidnapping so need a big strong man to accompany me), but would of course love to look-see the Taj Mahal just to witness symmetry because I’m weird like that… I have a thousand dreams that I have not lived out yet because I wanted to share them with you. Cue the aaahs. I know. Fetches sick bucket.

I’m sporty given half a chance, would love to take up abseiling again and do the mission impossible climb down the desert rocks, a spot of sky diving would also be a great thing to do (golly gosh – I have lived out this dream with the Red Devils only last week!) …also used to be amazingly good at badminton and squash though like I said, it’s a bit of a difficult game to play “on my ones” (down with the kids don’t you know)… I dabble in a bit of creative writing so that’s why I tend to write for England rather than talk for it…I used to work in publishing remember and I have a degree in English Literature, yes, it has come in helpful thank you very much!

What am I looking for? Well, that’s a good question. I ask the universe all the time. Perhaps someone who will love me for the rest of my life, as I will them. It’s a mutual thing, partnership, balance, nobody on a power trip – please leave immediately if you are, close the door behind you. There’s no reason to forget your manners.

You shouldn’t be high maintenance or selfish or living in a bubble, you don’t mind staying in or going out, you don’t mind the loud or the quiet, you should never keep me waiting or be late (unless you have a proper reason), and you should want to have my happiness at the core of your very existence because your, our, happiness will be the only thing I will strive to maintain. You should be Merlin AND a Knight of the Round Table…a comicbook hero without the double life thing, Spiderman without the spider thing (scared of them but my vacuum is currently of assistance), Superman without the kryptonite (can’t have someone else being in control of your weakness), so I’m not really asking for much…open-minded, uncontrolling and the ability to rustle up a snickers smoothie on demand would be, well, mortal heaven!

Love can only be sustained and maintained and reach the fizzy heights of butterflies if two people are able to grow together as one with the same outlook on life. It has to be a combination of both otherwise what’s the point in the two of them even trying? I’m not sailing on the Marriage-of-Convenience boat nor am I sailing on the Titanic.

It would be nice to be together for the rest of all time; happy ending; fairytale; I’d (and I’m assuming you would as well) obviously prefer it to be rainbows all the way and it would be nicer if it happened without the seven midgets or the evil step-mother but sometimes, I need to be the big bad wolf and little red, sometimes you will need to huff and puff too, just have to roll with the rough to slick out the smooth.

I’m resilient enough to cope with that, the question is, are you?

come on over here babygirl

Pressing brows deep into my skull,
eyes shut against burrowing space,
mercy at my temple for a divider’s sake,
penchant for penance lost in sin,
Arabic renaissance decoding Latin,
rhetoric displays radio’d resonance,
a la droite madame
et voila a la maison
c’est tres decadent,
visit me in Madison Square Gardens,
I’m joking, cancel it,
I’m not that rich,
scene turns rancid,
high on acid,
initially avid,
what a bastard,
least it lasted,
frantic semantic period fasting,
crunking cranked disillusions,
now we love and live in
fakeful delusions.
You thought you right,
hold tight…

I’m full of surprises,
guess in which box I’m hiding.
Self spitting roast rabbits
splintering spats,
spluttering rants,
can’t take much more of this,
skinning maggots,
sickening head spinning,
grab me a spatula
dishing out vernacular
but I won’t rise to it.
Rats. I just did.
Store my stone heart inna fridge.
It’s teetering, it’s on the edge.
You took what was never yours,
read the small print,
that’s what the sketch is,
closed clauses, lost causes.
She stretches and licks,
yawns and pauses,
glances at her prey,
clicks her shoulder blades,
shuffles the deck…

Re-arranges fate,
clawing her way,
through sanity state,
he tries to slice her,
pangs of vanity ate,
devouring depravity,
advantageous calamity,
disparaging clarity,
oh woe is me,
not really.
Just another bitch,
on his hit list,
yeah I said it,
working tempers,
shattered earth tremors,
terrorist endeavours,
excavating treasures
under measured leisures.
Protection by the sword,
desire by the dozen,
disengage from
disenfranchised cousins,
bearing the covenant…

Ten commandments condoned.
You will never be alone.
You won’t let me do
what’s been undone,
laddered stockings,
worn only once.
Glittering like twilight,
under the sun.
Too blind to see,
what we could have become,
IQ of thirty-two thousand,
amounts to nothing,
and then some,
shadowed by,
past particulate
shuttered out,
reasons inarticulate,
chipped to the,
nearest consulate,
halo intact,
faculties compatible,

Frothy waves roar high,
cresting emerald seas
I’m the pirate,
eye patched Silas
this is my ship,
and if you don’t like it,
I’m shameless:

walk the plank bitch
jump the fuck off it,
take my hand,
pushed you out
hope you can swim prick
pull my outlawed trigger,

This ain’t no swagger jagger
quit your jibber jabber,
it’s jihad.

the skin i live in

crawls beneath the epidermis you can see.
creatures burrow and feed on me.
inhaling my life force, leave me standing.
i might look like you. but inside, i am dying.

the skin i live in.

is not mine, doesn’t let me shine.
stringent ego holds me back, self critical, analysis militant.
i just want to break free.
i want to be me.
inhaling cocoa butter keeps the pretence alive.

the skin i live in.

i look in the mirror, trace my face.
that’s not who i thought you were.
a reflection i don’t know mimes back, that’s not who i thought you were.
younger perhaps, lines under eyes.

the skin i live in.

green veins network my chest.
spaghetti junction against my oesophagus.
i didn’t say you needed me.
blood threads into spotted cavities.
waves of sensations, crushes the butterflies.

the skin i live in.

goosepimples. hand-stitched palms tear away my fate.
beauty separates from beast.
all my imperfections neat and i stand to attention in defeat.
white noise fills me, transmission climbs.

the skin i live in.

you embrace more than which I can feed.
you think i’m guilty but there is no such thing as deceit.
purple veins run riot on wrists.
translucent cling film.
soft, hazy, aureole emanates the sublime.

the skin i live in.

draw triangles from thighs to calves, cross legged, dot to dot.
kill me with kindness.
prowling with outlaws belonging to God.
you hold me as i drown in the tears i cry.

the skin i live in.

ragged with razor blades, piercings.
clean cut, clinical incisions.
dissecting thought patterned decisions.
stream in paradise coursing to collision.
illusion shatters, reality beckons knowledge divine.

the skin i live in.

and just like that,
a whirlwind freezes motion in time,
heart beat stops.
i can’t breathe.
i drop.
and it doesn’t matter anymore to anyone.

the skin i live in

god eats my soul for breakfast

Black and white will not do alone.
Contract killing, erogenous zone.
Feeling free will reason, contextualise art.
Truth is in your being, not the whipped horse-cart.

Open your eyes to worn elements.
Drowning in familiar foreign eloquence.
Realm awaits your say, nay, your heart is blind.
He who follows blinkered, hypocrisy rules his mind.

He hath no heart beneath him, I is one, aye.
Obsolete passion reforms the divine.
Exalted is he who is inspired.
Infatuated, You complete me.

But I am exiled.