A carnivore’s forbidden desire

The follow up from the archives…

You should read this first.  I did so enjoy writing it.  Below is quite the opposite and not a single word of it is true.  Ok maybe the frog pasty bit but only that.

 

After much consideration it appears I would perhaps

like to try Koala glazed with cranberries and schnapps

and I’m now perhaps quite tempted by a plate of hamster fillet

just as long as it’s deboned and someone took good care to skin it

 

These days I’m rather ready for a broth made out of Turtle

I would even eat a pokemon, say Pikachu or Squirtle

and I’d not say no pasties filled with vegetables and frog

and my mouth sure starts to slaver at the thought of slow roast dog

 

Ooh a seventies style fondue with small chunks of cat and monkey

and a creamy sauce of gruyere cheese would be ever so funky

and then wash it down with beaver juice fresh squeezed, soda and lime

or a thick stew made with Panda bits would hit the spot each time

 

Then at lunch time there’d be squirrel cakes and sauces thick and tasty

and a wellington with mushrooms and a parrot wrapped in pastry

there’d be volauvents with gold fish tails and budgie infused cider

and a lion steak and hippo cheek and tender side of tiger

 

Oh the banquet of the carnivore holds such delicious treats

mouth watering and quite sublime with most forbidden meats

they care not now for beef or lamb or chicken, goose or pork

to the extreme their pallet’s crave such dark things on their fork.

 

 

Stone

Waffly words and other peoples emotions

Were flesh as hard and cold as stone

Like grey church steps, worn smooth with time ,

Then surely we could love

And unconstrained here, fearless fall.

To give all without asking back

To take more than can be consumed

And wild and wanton, without care

Crash headlong to sweet simple bliss.

But flesh is weak, such tender hearts

Do feel the thorns of reddest rose

And lovers past steal joy and hope

There leaving cuts that tell such tales

So take this love, this life, this self

And gentle be its guardian

For scars I bare, and freely take

This is your heart to freely break

She

Waffly seasonal metaphorical blah blah blah

Those glimpses, stolen moments, few

Sweet solice sweeps dark clean away

And brave she stands, heart lost at sea

And on his beach, finds refuge, free.

There grows, and roots reach deep and down

And summer brings that golden crown

Face to the sun, soft wind through boughs

Gives shelter, shade and sweet respite

And guard does drop, at night his light

Does fade and wane and in her shadow

Bitter sits on traitors lips

As seasons change and love does fade

With light grown pale and tender touch

now lost, too much her beauty spread

and cold winds strip, leaves line her bed

where love once blossomed 

now lies dead.

 

 

Thorns

Dedicted to the couple having a row outside our hotel rooom because he lost the key and the kid needs a poo. Seriously, just break up now. You’re doomed.

When bloom has failed and frangrance passed

and thorns now all that does remain

that into soft flesh dig and draw

tears scarlet which run down pale cheeks.

These nightimes fall without sunset

and lifeless love lies tossed aside

and joy once wild and filled with hope

sits silent, strangled, without voice.

Yet onwards, duty, oath’s fulfilled

and aching smiles speak not of pain

through days they shuffle, numb to loss

and into night , not to emerge

 

 

Without Regret

Sometimes they’re just words…

Should I regret this life well lived

when night time comes and stars look down

then I should surely reassess

and count the costs, repent the loss

to find the joy that like gold veins

runs through this rock on which we built

and lived and loved and spent our days

for these are all were gifted free

until like sand they run away

through fingers old and worn and laced

across our chests and unto sleep

And onwards…

Something inspired by something else

How beautiful you are

Beneath the stars alive, so brightly burning

And all about, the darkness yearning

For a word, a touch, a glance

That sweet romance, the slightest chance

To feel that light and love and grace

And like the sun warm on my face

We are, always, here in this place

And lights we pray won’t dim

Like far too many, gone before

those promises they sweetly swore

But time moves on, they are no more

But that is not our fate…

These fragile things

One of these on a Monday.

If lost, the things I hold most dear,

these minutes, hours, months and years

that helter skelter through my mind

swim intertwined with all I am,

and without which I could not be.

Still I would cling to hope and faith

that were we ripped from life and love

that in that place of darkest loss

not knowing where or when or why

I would reach out and find you there

and once again sweet love would taste

and life renewed, new memories make

this destiny once more to live.

Alive

Just messing around with words and patterns and themes…

This dance, this tender back and forth

blown on the wind, true north, stars bright

seem gone at dawn, but night burn white and linger still.

When passions red paint rooms and beds and will, aflame

here in this embrace call your name and then

complete submit and without blame or guilt lose track

of time and lack no thing for all I have and need is you.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

and cake.  I like cake too.  And biltong and great tv and my van and my family and the rain and comics and Judge Dredd and tattoos and boobs.   Oh and my drill.  It’s a cordless bosch and I enjoy it a lot.  Great battery life.

There no more

One of these…

Oh how we fell from where we soared, burned by the heights for which we reached

And helter skelter in this place , this now, this dark, this night we crashed

and broken, bloodied, bruised and fighting still the urges to be right always

and onwards we will drop beyond green pastures where we played.

Until, at last, in cold and dark

we recollect but now too late

this compromise, sweet give and take, was always that which gave us flight…

7 Deadly Sins

Another of these thingies

Oh how we fed so hungrily

our bellies fat with lofy lies

love whispered in the soft warm dark

and tongues drip empty promises

.

And time and tide do steal these things

that tender once now feel so spent.

I see you, cold and breathless still

Uncaring gladly watched you pale,

yet yearn, fools heart, for one last touch

while like bright stars dissolved at dawn

you fade yet hold tight to lost truths.

.

And there alone reside in tattered robes of rage

And home made crown of sharpest thorns,

so safe behind tall castle walls

untouched by all but darkest self.

The End

Even more wordy words

At days end, somewhere in the darkness,

Memories fade of endless firsts

and how I took your hand in mine

and promise poured so sickly sweet.

Cold breath, warm skin, sweet recollection

footsteps in the snow that slowly

brought you to my door

with liars dreams of ever more.

Those roads, we knew where they would lead

and need, such greed breed treachery

and love it twists, obsession births

and

Texas

More words…

In the darkness her tears flow through him,

Carving winding canyon’s in the barren hills of his existence

Bubbling and swirling, filling the arid wells of a hundred lonely lifetimes

Where he searched for her across all of time.

.

And then at last paths crossed at sunset

Stars align and fondly smile

Lie wrapped in arms still scarred and shaking,

pain of their making , yet oh so sweet.

.

And in her tempest feels her rage

and calms and comforts, calls her name

into the wind and soft returning

promises to never fail.

.

Deep and far and beyond memory

her rock through ages, dusk and dawn,

But river beds run slowly dry

when storms give way to golden days.

.

No blame. No fingers pointed harshly

Lived and loved but slowly lost

Bliss for a moment, Stratos soaring

Knowing, eyes wide, at such cost

Maggie Said

Some words…a few rhyme..

Words wise, oft thick with sickly praise

malaise spills at her dark demise

and in those final hours she beckons,

nightfall, crooked finger calls.

.

This halo tarnished, pious pride

held back, regret digs talons deep  

and wide and far she searches longing

for one more chance at ever more.

.

Again she watches as he turns

Each moment replayed thousand times

She burns and rages at the loss

This cross she bore, redeemers bride.

.

The tears, cold fears, though seldom solace

Bring yet anger sweep away

A heart entwined, yet always empty

At last peace finds in sunset’s rays.

.

She softens this last time as all

She was and is slow slips away

And summer days and grass that sways

Bid walk one last time until rest.

Ladybird

Cold I sit, consoling words still tossed upon the wind,
Your fires burn bright where embers once were piled….

Cold I sit, consoling words still tossed upon the wind,
Your fires burn bright where embers slowly died
reminders of our sighs, sweet lies and smiles forced wide
oh how I watch you shine.


There in the grass where once we lay
you watch clouds chased through skies as blue
as eyes that wept when days grew grey
and we forgot that love can’t always last.


And so, wings spread, wind carried far and wide
lost to these arms and calm caress
the things you hide, unsatisfied
I watch you fly away.

Footsteps

This verdant land where through the grass
names long forgot by men on wind
are whispered still and walk abroad
when mist shrouds veil and hill and dale.


This verdant land where through the grass
names long forgot by men on wind
are whispered still and walk abroad
when mist shrouds veil and hill and dale.
Their sacrifice, such love and loss
Still carries over valleys deep
and mountains, white capped, tell their tales,
forgotten take eternal sleep.
These millions, each beating heart,
Such hope and longing for the day
When old they look upon a life
Well lived and sons and daughters roar
And shine and blaze or silent sit
And contemplate what came before.
So take this banner, pen and book
And let not time this life forget
And in the hearts a story write
Tomorrow’s child to still remind .

The stuff of stars

These things from which were crudely hewn
And in this expanse shaped and formed
Give way to heart and hate and fires
that burn and fiercely do refine

 
These things from which were crudely hewn
And in this expanse shaped and formed
Give way to  heart and hate and fires
 that burn and fiercely do refine
 
This love that cuts and scars run deep
warm laughter hollow peaks then fades
And darkness melts at growing light
Which swells and soars, illuminating.
 
So come what will, we bend unbroken
Buffeted by winds of change
and edges soften, time moves onwards
rearranged and stained and aged.
 
Now take this thing I have become
With artists eye see shape and form
And lines, deep colours, shades and tones
this creation ever changing.

Grey

Would have done more but the cat keeps bothering me…

There in that moment, clocks stand still
and heartbeat thuds loud and wild
while tender words from sweetest lips
do spill and sweep my will away.

This evermore, this home and hearth
we take for granted, without thanks
many not counted nor recalled
such treasures held with scant regard

Through fingers finest sands escape
and time enslaves and laughing toys
with kisses fading into night
and into misty lands we stray

Raw

“She shone bright, a lifetime ago

In joy filled summer days and warm and wanton nights”

 

She shone bright, a lifetime ago

In joy filled summer days and warm and wanton nights

When he was still the man he could have been

And dreamed of more than he would ever have

 

Now fingers pointed voices raised and hearts long lost

to others, cruel words cut deep

To the bone

white flashes in crimson flesh

Day into night

some more ramblings

Each breath searing, stumbling in darkness

Infant cries as day turns black as night

And in the dark a plume of crimson towers high

As earthly fury snuffs out all hope with fingers black

that squeeze the throat and blur the eyes

as gods old and new heed not the screams

and turn away and unto fate condemn.

Sharon

Sometimes I see a picture and just …well this just happens.

Perfumed and poised she stares into rich rioja red

painted lips stained darker still and eyes heavy at nights end

Thump of base and lights dimmed low

She remembers, head and heart hunger for his touch

rough hands on soft skin and back arched in blissful bond

though now just a memory and she waits for the last dance

to be held and to feel alive once more

for chance to forget memories of his leaving

because she was a dirty cow and never cleaned her bathroom

Remembering

Just a bunch of words mostly.

At times his mind like treacle thick and black, slow flowing

Of days so laughter filled yet now mere echoes remain and drift

across mist shrouded distant views of vistas once so bright and clear

and to those things he clings yet through frail fingers slip

Forgotten Sepia faces smile back knowingly from curled cornered photos

and in the dark they call his name, voices long forgotten and shut out

and though he turns in search of face familiar

he stands alone and yet

the things he pushes down and back and out of reach they call

reminding him of thoughts dark as pitch and deeds to match

and with covered ears he chooses to forget once more

and into restless silence slips…

 

 

 

Through My eyes

My gift to you

 

If I could give you this one thing

of all those gifts I may possess

from love to life to sweet embrace and all I am and know

take chance to wake each day to see yourself through eyes of mine

each word, each thought each moment lived

then surely heart and head and soul would know

and conscious raw and raging thoughts

these truths so sweet with honesty tempered

that yes, you are a twat

A carnivore’s forbidden desire

It’s a work of fiction okay, don’t report me!

You should read this first.  I did so enjoy writing it.  Below is quite the opposite and not a single word of it is true.  Ok maybe the frog pasty bit but only that.

 

After much consideration it appears I would perhaps

like to try Koala glazed with cranberries and schnapps

and I’m now perhaps quite tempted by a plate of hamster fillet

just as long as it’s deboned and someone took good care to skin it

 

These days I’m rather ready for a broth made out of Turtle

I would even eat a pokemon, say Pikachu or Squirtle

and I’d not say no pasties filled with vegetables and frog

and my mouth sure starts to slaver at the thought of slow roast dog

 

Ooh a seventies style fondue with small chunks of cat and monkey

and a creamy sauce of gruyere cheese would be ever so funky

and then wash it down with beaver juice fresh squeezed, soda and lime

or a thick stew made with Panda bits would hit the spot each time

 

Then at lunch time there’d be squirrel cakes and sauces thick and tasty

and a wellington with mushrooms and a parrot wrapped in pastry

there’d be volauvents with gold fish tails and budgie infused cider

and a lion steak and hippo cheek and tender side of tiger

 

Oh the banquet of the carnivore holds such delicious treats

mouth watering and quite sublime with most forbidden meats

they care not now for beef or lamb or chicken, goose or pork

to the extreme their pallet’s crave such dark things on their fork.

 

 

Nonsense

It’s late, I probably shouldn’t have bothered.

Now I ask myself so many times when I see what others do

Would I maybe like to do as they and try those wild things too

Could I dangle like a Christmas bauble bungie cord attached

Though I fear that I would shit my pants and it run all up my back

 

How about I run in Spain with bulls it seems intense for sure

Though I’m fat and old and rather slow and my arse they’d surely gore

And I don’t enjoy paint balling as I did it once, and no

I’m far too big a target and it bloody hurts you know

 

And no to surfing thanks no thanks, I tried it when much younger

as my trunks came off and my arse was filled with sand when I went under

and I have no urge to parachute though I have no fear of flying

it’s the mess you make when the chute don’t work and Im quite averse to dying

 

I’d thank you kindly if you said you’d we’re hiking in the hills

But I’ll just stay home as its full of bears and they give me the chills

Though they’re not as bad as sharks so no with them I’ll not be swimming

Think I’ll skip it and watch Netflix and my nails they do need trimming

Each memory a star

In the dark of night.

At days end when time flies and sun sits low

In crimson skies and blood red stained gives way to black

He thinks of her and years of love come flooding in

From loves first flush to darker days

But always light with golden rays and hope and joy

Illuminate and feeding, green shoots blossom bright

And smiling, eyes closed he embraces

Each vision clear as days gone by and into nothing slow he slips

a burning sun quenched in swirling seas of time