Happiness don’t look good on me
Dressed in rags not fit to please
No tilted hats and shiny shoes
with a smile on my face, it looks misused
Got a look that people will see fit to refuse
And if a fight should find me
Sparks will erupt in violence you can’t defuse
And I’ll be locked up in Alcatraz by the bloody screws
And I’ll be playing the joker to amuse
So as not to have my arse black and blue
©Silverbackgorillapoetry 2016 June
I’ve got sand between my toes and a cigarette hanging between my lips.
What better way to view
another celestial body, that being you
eclipsing the sun
watching your silhouette
Refined as you pirouette
Dancing my innocence into obscurity
And if you should ask what innocence was ever left intact
I’d show you the cherry lit end of my smokes
A childhood image of calm collected cool
Hanging between fingers
Forgetting about the cancer
they taught me about at school
© Silverbackgorillapoetry June 2016
Erasing thoughts of our mothers face
daring ourselves to ride a little faster
Getting our hearts beating a little harder
Tempting fate
Weaving in and out of traffic
Having ourselves a race
It feels like freedom
A suicide mission
Waiting on our shadows for definition
Fledging so soon, faking ambition
© Silverbackgorillapoetry June 2016
Awaking to invitations
of indulgence
in humans favourite
Pastime
Smelling
Sweating
Enjoying
Reminiscing
Regretting
Fucking
A release
Life as an eunuch
Just isn’t worth the same
©Silverbackgorilla poetry June 2016
Dwelling behind misted glass
Watching the birds
It’s dream like
Edges soft and a little blurred
Watching juvenile blue tits undeterred
By the goldfinch guarding its territory
Mrs Robin hopping from fence to shed
Her small stature disguising the terror she can unleash
Lest you dare to trespass upon her niche
Worms pulled like spaghetti from the ground by Mr Blackbird
And I’m just sitting, easy come and easy go
Don’t want to survive as they do
Fighting and flitting around
Got my own dangers
Even if they’re in my head
The little bug that buzzes in my brain
A tug of war between playing life or playing dead.
©Silverbackgorilla photography June 2016
Drinking myself undrunk
Stepping inside away from the street humdrum
Neon sign glows ‘no vacancy’
And she’s a shadow on my wall
Cigarette between fingers
High heels make her tall
Her breasts pert and nipples erect
TV in the corner whispers white noise
the sound that permeates the aftermath of every choice
The end of cigarettes glowing cancer
Between lips in which I hanker
Mouths pucker between rings of smoke
Kissing oblivion between strokes
A silhouette riding cowgirl
Making me blind
The aftermaths white noise
Behind neon and TV lights
Resting between her thighs
Listening to the humdrum outside
© Silverbackgorillapoetry June 2016
I am humbled by the majesty
Of your presence
The simplicity in which you live
Feels like sand through fingers
So simple and complex all in one
The reflection of the world in your eyes
I could pretend the world felt alright
If I could just delve into your sights
Please don’t burden me with my soul
I cannot wear it
All alone.
© Silverbackgorillapoetry June 2016
I look to the eye of the storm
Testing my nerves
Trying to be reborn
Do I take the blade
Or do I preserve
Praying to no one
Asking if I can put my life on reserve
Save me a seat
Which way to pull the trigger?
Do I wrap life around my middle finger
A fuck you to the mirror?
Put on my best suit
Stand tall and deliver
Grinning from ear to ear
When they shake my hand and say “Thank you, Mister”
Or do I turn the lights down
Bow out
Deliver my last will
Drinking liquor to wash down the pills
Forever relapsing
Spending years out of action
And with all these waves crashing
I don’t know which way to turn
Without collapsing
And, I’m looking into the eye of the storm
Testing my nerves
Trying to be reborn.
© June 2016
words aren’t enough
But i’m locke in
And words are all I have
But they don’t quite deliver
The picture
I stand against the current
Chiselled by the waves
Of storms gone by
Robust in my ability to pacify
The sky opening up
And I keep a weather eye
On all things corrupt
Lest they just pass me by
And zephyr says
She’s making a man out of me
Etching lines on my face like clay
“You’ll be the epitome of a man one day
All this in between? It’s just the price you pay”
© 2016 June
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 