Sunny-side Up

I sit awake through the night, filled with gloom and doom,

Thoughts of you fly by with a zip and a zoom.
I wonder if the darkness will ever go.

Will dawn break? Will the sun show?

I feel so tired but I'm not allowed to sleep.

I've counted a million jumping fucking sheep.

Then I hear your voice, I get a rush, a tingle.
The bells of life start to jingle.
I hear the birds tweet, blackness turns to blue,
Morning's here at last because of you.
You smile at me and I smile back,
This sunshine moment makes up for what the night did lack.
You open the curtains, out the window I gaze,
Only your beauty can beat the early morning haze.
We go out for breakfast in a place by the square,
Your eyes reflect a sunbeam's glare.

We sip on our tea, and as your lips touch the cup,

Our bacon and eggs arrive.... sunny-side up.

I Am...

I am sorrow,

I miss someone,

I can not function.

I am missing something.

I have nothing.

I am solitude.
Abdication. I am alone.
Desolation. Come back home.
For you I will always fend for.
Complete me once more.

I am anger.

Frustrated I'm of no avail.

I am the twisted, rusted nail.

I am the bitter taste,

Of love going to waste.

I am vengeance,

I will react in rapture

I will strike down your captor,

He that has taken control of your life. 

I grip my knife...

The Poor Rapper

I'm the poor rapper, ain't got no gold.
My house is empty. It's got mould.
No central heating. It's fucking cold.
Bitch I'm the poor rapper,... but I won't fold.

I got no red Ferrrari, I got no Bentley,
Got no Lamborghini, Ain't got a Hum-V.
Ain't never been, in a limousine,

I gotta blue Rover. It's fuckin' obscene.

I don't pick up hoes, with the top down,
My car's too slow, it slows the traffic down.
Got no Nine-Eleven, no shinin' alloys,
Fuck your Aston Martin, Fuck your Rolls Royce.
Coz I'm the poor rapper, ain't got no gold.
My ride is shit. It got mould.
No central lockin. It's fuckin old.
Bitch I'm the poor rapper,... but I won't fold.

I got no penthouse, Ain't got a mansion.
Ain't got a swimming pool, there's no expansion.
No gym room. No steam room. There's not enough room,
There ain't a lock on the motherfuckin bathroom.
I got no gold taps, no solid oak floors,
No jaccuzzi. No solid oak doors.
There's no conservatory, I gotta patio.
No fuckin tennis court, but I'm still the daddyo,
Coz I'm the poor rapper, ain't got no gold.
My house is shit. It got mould.
No central heatin. It's fucking cold.
Bitch I'm the poor rapper.... but I won't fold.

I got no Gucci sunglasses, ain't got no rolex.
No diamond rings, I gotta Timex.
It tells the time, never runs slow,

It's gotta velcro strap. It's a fuckin' Indiglo.

Got no gold medallions, got no thick chain.

I ain't never been on a private plane.

Was on the Seacat once, went to Stranraer,

Fuck your G6, I'm a fuckin star.

Coz I'm the poor rapper, I got gold.

But it ain't real, it's got green mould.

No bank roll, I'm on the dole.

Bitch I'm the poor rapper.... but I won't fold

My Valentine

This is for you, My Valentine.

Make you love me. Make you mine.

Make you want me. Make you care.

Touch your face. Touch your hair.

Soft silk kisses.

Blue eyes.

Heart beat misses.

Blue skies.

The sun shines. The rains stop.
Smile rises, frowns drop.

Cupid's dart - locked in.

Pierced heart.
Head spin.
This is love. You are mine.

I am yours.

My Valentine.

For Thou Love Is Like A Bucket Of Chicken

If there was any doubts in your mind, any reason that you or I,
Should wish to leave, or feel the need to cry.

Then I'll give you the excuse to stay. Why we're meant to be.

And that reason quite simply is..... K.F.C.

Now, I know you're thinking, "Love?....Greasy chicken?"
But there's more to that tasty white meat than just finger lickin'.
It's a romantic gesture, the sharing of a meal,
A whoosh of ecstacy, the loving couple do feel.
If you decided one day to say, "That's it, I'm off. Fuck it."
You would then see my heart kick the bargain bucket.
I can't go to a drive-thru & order the family feast alone,
"Ha that fat bastard's so greedy! Ordered enough for 2, but he's on his own!"
The spotty foreign teenager behind the counter would say.

And everyone would peer out the window as I drove up to pay.

I would eat the cold chicken and it would take me hours & hours,

Not even that secret recipe coating, though so delicious, would heal my scars.

But if you were with me, I could drive up with pride,

We'd order our bucket then we'd go for a ride.

Drive up Scrabo hill, overlooking the sea,

I'd feed you & you'd feed me.

We'd eat that chicken right down to the bone,

And we'd be so happy because we weren't alone.

We'd share the gravy & dip our chips,

Then use that funny wipe to clean our lips.

You'd do a wee burp & I wouldn't mind.

For I'd know that with the love of my life, I  had just dined.

Slurp down the coke, have a hug, steal a kiss.
Now isn't that an experience that you would surely miss?

So stop feeling so sad, stop feeling so blue,

Next time I'll even get you an ice-cream too.

I'll say, "gee whizz that was finger lickin' good!"

And you'll say, "Yep, things are lookin' good.."    

Where The F**k's My Chocolate Factory??

I love children's books. I'd even love to write one of my own.
But something bothers me terribly, so I'm going to have a moan.
They give us dreams & wonders and we believe! Oh how we believed!
But Dahl and Rowling, C.S.Lewis and bloody Blyton... they all decieved.
We were too young, too young to see through their lies,
To notice this gobbledygook with our naive little eyes.
I hope that this poem shows that all is not as it seems,
Though revealing these truths may crush your old dreams:
No1: Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, brilliant you'll agree.
But.....  noooobody ever left their empire to me.

I can't even get a fucking job in a factory, forget owning it,

The apparent river of chocolate quickly turns to shit.

And as the British chocolate industry is sold to some German Yanks,

Even the Oompah-Loompahs find themselves on the Shit River banks.

No2 is The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe, a.k.a. The Narnia Tales.

I was stuck in that fucking wardrobe for 3 days! Nobody heard my wails!

Locked in a dark, dusty, coffin-like box, "I thought I was dyin'!"

"Couldn't find any White Witch, nevermind a talking bloody lion."

And what about No3. ehh? Christopher Robin & Winnie The Pooh?

For whom honey is in endless supply, but far, far too dear for me or you.

Next No4. Treasure Island, one of the best yarns ever told.

Bullshit. There ain't no treasure chest cramed full with gold.

Instead of a map, pirates have machine guns instead,

Then they e-mail your relatives & put a price tag on your head.

No5. Around The World In Eighty Days?

Not a chance, not with these delays.

You're lucky if your plane even gets of the ground.

Double lucky if there's no exploding backpack sound.

Harry Potter is No.6, the half-blood twat,

Okay he goes to magic school... but after that?

Unemployment figures are bleak, it's grim news for all.

For any job I reckon, even the wizards must have to beg & crawl.

Talking of unemployment, reminds me of the rising cost of living.

Which leads onto No.7, a book every kid's been given.

The Greedy Bastard Caterpillar, who in fairness gets his 5-a-day,

But not once does he finish a meal & then offer to pay.

He just goes around eating plums, pickles & melon,

Then turns into a butterfly. He's a bloody felon!

"Arrest that fat c**t!! He's stolen our food!"

The message this book sends is less than good.

So think before giving your child a book to read please

Beware of the false promises, for it's not fair to tease,

Kids believe so easily, they're convinced it can be true,

But I've seen what can happen, I had a front row view.

I believed I could be like Peter Pan, No.8

I put on my green tights. I thought, "I look bloody great."

I thought if I could fly I would meet my Wendy,

But now my damn back is all crooked & bendy.

I fucking fell in the garage, right off the highest rafter,

So you see, not everyone really lives happily ever after.