writing

How men are made

MattLeave a comment

Boys dropped out of school
Gloom broadcast on their faces
Old exuberance long gone
Weathered and worn

Stubbing cigarettes
Under ill-fitting shoes
Ducking from another punch
Milling about
Fists swung in anger

Another blow meticulously swayed
Newsboys dressed in flatcaps
& plaid
Another fight from hanging on
Around street corners too late

Suited up going to fathers funerals
Sunglasses to hide eyes ablaze
With fury and sadness
Cigarette butts stubbed out
Along with their secrets

And they’ll tell ‘em
That this is how men are made

(C) 2016 March

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Urban Lumberjack

MattLeave a comment

I’m an urban lumberjack
Wielding an expresso
And an axe
Got a roll of smokes
Always share ‘em with my mate Jack
And he spoons ‘em off to our friend Mack

Jacks wife and I
Got that sexual tension
We do the dance
When we get the chance

Jack don’t mind
After all, I’m the one with the axe!

(C) 2016 March

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The guitar weeps

MattLeave a comment

The guitar weeps
Technicolour
Men in blue suits
Reflect
Dancing lights
And girls swish their skirts

Candy coloured Identities
Go berserk
On the floor
Musical masturbation
Dancing like
we’re stripping bare

A form of emancipation
Loving decapitated notions
Of religious word
Tired of loving
What was never there

They call us dirty
As we drink our rum
And smoke our tokes
We’re acting like
We’re from the 60’s

Taking a detour
From prudish disgust
Baring it all
Under midnight lights
Of burning lust

Randy bodies
Dancing
Wounded from a god
Not here or there
Trying to free ourselves
From ideas of sin
And that of hell

Are we obedient
To the rebellion?
All the pushers
On the streets
“Take another! You’ll be free!”
Neon lights
And screams misheard
For pleasure
As we screw
Ourselves
Into tighter
Boxes
Trying each other on
With no one to spare.

(C) 2016 March

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Pick up ya dog shit

Matt2 Comments

Dog shit
It fuckin’ stinks
So why do you
Make me roll in it!
Ya fuckin’ prick!

Get ya shit bag
And fill it!
Ya prick!
Some of us got baskets of milk
Takin’ it home
So I can make porridge!

But ya’ve gone and left ya dog shit
Right in middle
Of fuckin’ path
I tried to get around it
Couldn’t cross the fuckin’ road!
Curb was too damn high!
I was stuck!
Trying to swereve round it

Pick up ya dog shit
Ya fuckin’ prick.

(C) 2016 Jan

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Whirlwind Romance

Matt2 Comments

I loosen my tie
You unbutton my shirt
My breath against your neck
Caressing away your hurt

And our eyes are a blaze
With the fire
Your lips crave

And I bend you
Over the table
Clutching at your hips
As ripples and waves
Convulsions and thunder
Take us away

And I lean over
Nibble round your neck
Whisper your name
As I feel myself tighten up in knots
Before I release all my have nots

Muscles slacken in surprise
As we dance across
This happened chance
Of a little whirlwind
Romance

(c) 2016 Jan

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