This space is for s**tty poems what I done pooed out.
I think poetry is great; it's a window into the human soul.
Probably because I need one, people are fairly opaque to me.
Nobody ever asked for a "window into my soul" mind, but there it is, just to prove I have one.
When I run out of space, I shall start replacing the s**ttier ones with marginally less s**tty ones.
Just because something is a "window to your soul" doesn't necessarily make it good.
If you want to know about me, I probably upset you; sorry, it very likely wasn't wholly intentional.
I am probably not crazy, but I'm not sure I'd know if I was.
I play guitar some.
I write s**te poems with the regularity of a bodily function, and am inordinately proud of them.
Hence why I call them "s**tty poems".
I have other interests too, like cooking, hiking, pointless bickering, and painting wee metal and plastic blokes to play games round my table with - which is totally badass and not at all dorky.
Untitled;
Soft white hands, like a gentle ghost.
Play my memory like a toy harp.
You are gone, but I feel you still.
The hour chimes, and the image dims.
But I remember kissing you
Among the tiny green frogs.
Limericks;
There once was a man from Dudley
Who hung up his wife from a tree
He left her all night but she came down alright
And now she is seven foot three.
I once met a man from Beirut
Who said "There's a bomb in my boot"
He whipped out his gat, it went rat-a-tat-tat
And he drove off while bunnin' a zoot
Prayer of an idiot;
Spare me Lord, from fear of death
And fear of growing old.
From fear of never being loved
And life that's long and cold.
The road is dark, the path has forked,
I do not know the way.
For I was born at midnight,
And I have not seen the day.
Untitled;
I am a decent person
I do what I am told
I praise the men I'm told to praise
And scold the ones to scold
I am the very smartest
As smart as smart can be
For no-one ever followed rules
As doggedly as me.
I am an honest person
The truth does not exist
And certainty is wickedness
And ignorance is bliss
Opinions are facts as well
If they're the ones I like
I only have to scream them loud
And bang your doors at night.
I am a modern person
My opinions are all new
I know no past nor future
And I haven't got a clue
I look down on "unenlightened times"
And "unenlightened folk"
But I never go to see them,
'Cause they laugh and call me "woke".
Autistic haiku:
Internet is f**k
Society is a scam
There is no escape
You glow in the dark
But I am Vantablack Coal
You cannot see me
Nobody cares now
If you s**t by the roadside
People are dogs too
God is in pieces
Don't tread on them carelessly
I'll cut your feet off
Conspiracy man
Vindicated by footage;
Bigfoot with Epstein
Real men eat pussy
s**tfire and hallelujah
We all gonna die
