‘Construct’

Same old shite half cocked delight heart of gold that turns out to be brass.

Excuses galore same old whore gobby yet drenched in tears. Others tears. Boo hoo.

Smile like you hate to smile like you normally do, all excuses. Never your fault.

Lost in a fog of your own making, cockle shelled headache loving the drama.

Lost little twirl. Ignored the fact as you stepped over the body and picked it’s pockets, magpie shy yet shit in a corner.

It will never be yours. You struggle to own yourself you speck of shit that cant be removed. But you will be.

Ding ding. Round one. Flat on your arse within seconds and the towels thrown in with such force it knocks you out

Now go back to spreading lies as excuses in disguise. I’ll stay getting better and better and I will achieve all of my goals. Ten fold

‘Written in Crayon’

Excuse me my dearest Europe, but we may need some help, even after we fell out over money and fishing and import stuff and all that palaver. Putin is being a knobhead again tbh, about gas and a mineral rich country being surrounded by us lot and that old boy, (always stinks of piss and Deep Heat), across the pond, I’m glad we are ‘sort’ of mates, what with us being neighbours and ting. Sort us out. We’ll see you right soon. Gwan. I’ll let you have a go on the wife??? And you can have Adele.

Boris Thingermejig
London
ENGERLAND

Juggle and drop

Incoming!!!!

Leon The Pig Farmer - Website by Steve Reilly

So first up… The venue for the book launch next weekend has changed… Same acts… Same aim and similar concept just at the venue above the original one.. I even have gig posters now… So thanks to wetlemonproductions@gmail.com for coming to my rescue and offering an alternative space and vibe. They also are part of “now or never records” and “old bank studios”. A great new art hub.. literally the floor above the Gillery in Mossley.

I’ve been busy booking other gigs, a couple of on line this new for Glossop book fest – https://fb.me/e/MglbP9qe

One for a suicide prevention charity which will take place during men’s mental Health week on 17 June. Details to follow but check out the great work going on at https://ollysfuture.org.uk/

I have just ordered a new batch of “Talkingyself out of trouble” books as the first 200 have flown out!!.. so drop your orders…

View original post 87 more words

‘///’

So können Sie sagen, es ist dein Geburtstag?
Es ist mein Geburtstag auch.
Aber erst Wensday
Ich bin jünger als Sie.

Darf ich diese Chance ergreifen
Um Ihnen für Ihre trabbs danke
Für die Wildleder und die Gummisohle
Für die schreien abb Dabbs

Von Sammlern und chancers
Die sauer und die Armen
Wer kann ihre Körbe nicht leer
3 Paar, sind Sie sicher?

Ich liebe dich verdammt Adolf
Du bist ein germanc Freude
Ich habe viele Ihrer Pumpen
Doch nichts in weiß.

Mein Sohn sollte genannt worden Adolf
Und so sollte ich
Ich danke Ihnen
Ich danke Ihnen
Froliche Gerburstag
Du bist meine Leben.

‘Don’t Forget To Turn It Off’

Don’t forget to turn it off son

I won’t dad

I never have

It’s always been on.

Well you have and it’s tele I’m talking about

Dont make me shout

I’ve never forgot to turn it off dad

It’s always been on

No amount of time will ever be done

Just fucking turn it off or turn it in

Believe me son, you’ll never win.

I know dad

I know…

‘Pocket Full Of Ash’

Fill the fucker up til it overflows and drop the glass.

Shattering smithereens and memories across the tiles

Smiles and blushes backwards bruised and bloodied

Caught up and snared between morning and twilight

Happy yet held up by nerves and tears that turn my stomach

Invisible scars silvered and honest we cry

We miss those who we’ve been loved by and who we have cherished.

This script chips chunks off us all and soaks bone deep.

Sleep passes us by lightening fast and morning appears confused.

Torn between running away or sitting down in the rain.

Bring me the solution not the problem I have enough of my own.

Grip loosens as hands tore yet we love and lose and lie.

Demand pardons yet never excuse. Just do. Then do it again.

Furthermore I am desperate for the next year to see me.

Getting me tomorrow is my favourite time to have you done this.

Helped me in the first place and all the other times were mine.

Yours forever will do though tbh and I am sure its difficult and you will have to wait.

Cracked and a bit more than a little bit more of the day twice.

Very well soon after I had the last time in my soul and it was divine. I’m here, and I’m Devine.x

‘Turning Into Now (part 1)’

I’ve seen far too many sunrises. Although the dawn is delightful to watch, it always makes me sad. Another day has gone and we’re hurtling towards something we can’t control.

I’ve spent far too many minutes thinking of nothing yet something is telling me to carry on. To expect the expected. To realise why nothing is in fact something.

I’ll probably end up wasting all my time and get left behind but I’ll end up embracing the silence. Amplitude is solitude as it whispers its denials. As it cuts its self on selfishness. As it bleeds it’s tears and the last of thought of the day would be of you.

You. Beauty is soaked in you. Stained solid and deep with a scent so undeniably personal that is dizzys the mind. My mind.

I’ve watched the paint peel off too many days. Seen too much I didnt want to see. And forgot more. More than I needed to.

So I’ll gaze at you and take the blame.

If you want you to, you can do the same.

Again…

‘Love’

I’m half asleep but fully in love and I’m needing some sleep to fall from above like a sand man throwing his grit in my eyeI’ll cryI’m almost there but nowhere yet I’m so bloody sure of what I have near and it’s you I’m holding and you dont need to tryI’ll cryPinch me I’m dreaming yet I’m so wide awake I’m pretending I’m lucky yet I’ve nothing to take apart from your love and your beauty and I’ll keep them on loan. They’re yours simply yours they’re yours to own.I thought nothing of saying all of these words they’ve spilled easy and messy and slightly absurd yet I’m shouting at the traffic and being heard. Why?Cos I’ll cry.

‘You Get Me?’

I’ll never tire of telling you I love you. Quite the opposite in fact. It will make me alive telling you I love you. Keeps me awake at night knowing you love me back

You get me?

When we’re together, for however long, i leave a piece of me with you and I take a piece of you with me. I’ll give you the pieces back when we’re not saying goodbye

You get me?

When we love, we love and it’s simple. It’s straight forward and caring. It’s black and white and coloured in it’s never about the win. It’s about us

You get me?

So, I’ll promise to keep you smiling as you stay beguiling and I’ll make sure you’re warm enough not to cry. I’ll hold your hand and help you stand as you steady me,

Then I’ll know you get me.

X

‘Another Bastard List Poem About Liverpool’

Angry Andrew from Anfield spilled his £5 cup of coffee

Andrew is livid

Boz eyed Brenda from Broad Green is always moaning about the darkies

She’s got Ten to two eyes

Crappy Claire from Childwall is addicted to Jeremy Kyle

She’s appearing on the show next week

Dickhead Darren from Dingle in his knitted yoghurt hat

Darren’s a twat.

Eager Elaine from Everton sells Avon

And so does her dad

Forlorn Frida from Fazakerly works down the bookies

She hates bloody horses

Grubby Ged from Garston collects toe nail clippings

Not necessarily his own

Happy Helen from Halewood sleeps with her gardener

Viciously and often

Helen thinks Darren’s a twat as well

Irate Ian from Islington plays Warhammer on his own

He’s lost his dice, twice

Jealous John has just caught Helen in the shed

Wearing a grow bag

And Kindly Karl from Kenny writes all this down

And smiles. Sometimes

Lazy Lisa from Litherland hates her kids and her mum

It’s her own fault.

Or Darren’s.

You choose.

Mardarsed Mark from Maghull wishes Hitler was still alive

Hes a bigger twat than Darren

Normal Nina from Norris Green isn’t normal.

She’s well fucking weird tbh

Obnoxious Olive from Old Swan only eats on Thursdays

She’s obese but she’s happy

Pedantic Phil from Prescot once bought Pete Wylie a pint

And drank it himself

Quirky Quentin from Queens Drive likes to juggle sharp things

He only has one hand

Ridiculous Richard from Roby makes artisan pencils from dust he’s collected

And sells them to that twat Darren

Sickly little Simon from Speke hasn’t been out in years

It’s down to the fact he’s in Walton doing a 20 stretch

Timid Theresa from Toxteth likes gardening in the nude

She only owns a window box

Underwhelming Ursula from Utting Avenue once went out with Darren

Not that Darren a different Darren

Virtuous Vanessa from Vauxhall swears that she’s still a virgin

She’s Darrens mum

Windy Wendy from Waterloo once went to Blackpool on her own

It was shut

Excited Xavier from Exeter is a mature student studying Art at John Moores

Smells of pencils and cheap speed

Yellow Yvonne owns the local Chinese chippy

She sells out of date forks

And because there’s nowt to rhyme with Zed

We’ll all call Darren a twat instead