Poems from the UK

A Strange New Place

Noise, or is it music to my ears
In this place where what I know is all I own,
And what I see is strange and weird.
Do I blend into the crowd,
Or stand and shout my individuality.




Purpose

What's the point of being here
If all I do is run from what I fear.
Will I turn and face the fight,
Or will I fade into the night.
Its hard to do with all these city lights
And all these people standing round.
All these wolves in human guise
Ready to pounce at any moment.




Breaking Out

Songs I know in a place I don't.
Sounds I've heard but not from here.
I've left everything behind,
But what's the point of breaking out,
If all you do is mourn your past.




Big Brother

Signs all around,
But they lead nowhere except
Out the door or to the bathroom.
Fire exit, that's a change,
But out the door all the same.
All these signs they wish me well,
And tell me what I can and cannot do.




Wishing Everyone was a Homebody

So much to do, so much to see.
Every pace I want to be is full of people crowding me.
Its not their fault, I don't know why
I wish them not to have a life.





Nature

Why do I listen
When songbirds whistle
And call to me from in the thistles
And brambles and bushes that glisten
With dew.




Spare a Dime

Is it worth my time
To spare a dime
For a man who needs it
More than I say yes
Without condition
Even if I'm broke myself.




Actions

I know you
By the way you walk,
By the way you talk,
By the words you say,
And the things you do,
Not by who you are.




Free Thought

Throw off your shackles,
Free your mind.
But if you do not see the cage,
Enjoy that life which you hold dear,
It's something I could never bear.




New

What's your point? Are you sure?
I've never met someone like you before.
I've traveled round and round,
All my life meeting those I've met,
And seeing things I've seen.
It's rare to find something that's not a shadow of something else.

But you're different,
You're anomalous, a break from what I know.
In terms of everything I've seen
You're not.




A Drunk Punk

Where am I? Why am I here?
What's that? Who do you think you are,
Calling me a punk? You little fuck!
I'll pound your face in!
Come 'ere!
Spry old bugger, you.
You just wait, you're dead motherfucker, you can't run
Forever!




Indecision

I'm lost in a sea of clear water.
I can see so far I don't know what to do.
It's not that I can't see the options,
I see too many.
What's the point of knowing a multitude of choices,
If you only see them and
Never make a choice.




Inspiration

Words
Come slowly.
But my pen
Has a mouth that
Speaks if I work it
Correctly.




Ditty of Certainty

I don't know what to write about
But I'm sure it will come out,
If I keep on to the end,
And never give up till they send
Me to my grave.




Stop the Press

Stop the press.
I've got it now.
I won't give up,
I will not bow
To all these folks
Who tell me no,
And try to keep me down and out.




Kate

You're the reason why I'm here.
I love your hair, I love your ears,
I love the way you pour a beer.
I don't know what to say to you,
Except to say I've had a few
Too many probably,
But I'll have another
If you'll pour it for me.




Independence

I've had enough of the world's crap,
And all this shit they throw at
Me and try to tell me I
Can't do this, or I can't do that.
In the end I'll do what the fuck I please.




Down and Out

Is there a reason why you came,
Or have you nothing to your name.
No money, clothes or even fags.
Even the air about you sags
With the pitiful state in which
You are. Isn't life a bitch.




Nocturnal

With all this light
How can I see
With eyes accustomed
To the dark.
For the longest time
I lived at night
With pupils dilated
To catch every detail.




Psychology of a Killer

Have you ever seen a fella
As was definitely a killer.
One of those with death
Upon his face, who underneath
It all is just a baby.




B.A.C.K.S.

Why did I leave the people I love,
In search of a happiness I already had.
I'll keep on going till the end
But I doubt I'll ever find better friends.
Hopefully I'll find my calling in life
Something that gives me the joy I had with you.




Frost

I see the kiss of death on the window.
I guess some people would call it frost.
They say "It makes the view look cheery."
But I say yes the view is cheery,
Its full of life through a ring of death,
And anything looks cheery when compared to death.




Ode to Hunter S.

We can't stop here, this is bat country.
They fly all around
And swoop down on me.
But I've got a weapon to fend them off
As long as we keep on moving
And don't get swarmed.
I'll swat them as they try to get in the front seat.
My weapon is even better than that gun you point at me,
Because I WILL use this fly swatter if necessary.