Spaghetti

Spaghetti words just slip out your mouth
Through your teeth
Oily and filling for those who are willing
They stuck in my guts
A minute on the lips forever in the soul
Or something like that
Either way I’m bloated with them
And I can’t seem to shift this weight

But I’ll do it slowly
This was just a faze
You may be spaghetti
But you are not the Bolognese.

(C) Slumpless

Retreat

Ring a ring a rosie
Don’t get so cozy. A tissue. A tissue ? You’ll want one soon.

That’s me dancing rings around you.
Oh you think you’re so clever?
You got me. You got me. You get me ?
Nah uh silly rabbit.
You’re no brain for this mighty chain.

I know, I know you liked me at first
Your intentions were good ?
Not good enough my sweet.
So retreat.

To the middle where you belong
Sing your song. The one you sing to us all
But I won’t fall. For it. For you. Forever.
I see the workings of your selfish heart
Written all over your gormless face
Different girl. Different place.Getting away with it again ?
Not this time. Not this chump.
Different type of human here.
Different zone.
You’re in my circle now
And you’re all alone.

(C) Slumpless

Tear Drum

I heard it in the ears, for years and years
But it always ended at the drum.
Just a word that vibrated through the air and happened upon me.
But only when you were gone for good
Did it travel to my blood.
Dead. Death. Die.
Oh how I used to cry.
At movies but no tears have flown for you.
They can’t.
Inside me is as still as your corpse
No movement except those words.
To Drum. To Blood. To Numb.
(C)Slumpless

Always More

I see werewolves in my sleep
Creatures that change with the moon
Just like me.
A howling force to be reckoned with.
Do you hear the pulsing tide?
There is a splashing sensation that will carry blood on its back.
Come now to the door and howl with me.
Not a whimper nor a simper
But a full blown, lung-fuelled roar.
Because there is more. Always more.
(C) Slumpless

Love beyond the lips.

Can you hug the blood of me ?
There is a need so deep that only the excavation of bone will do.
Dig my dear.
Love the entrails of me because they have been abandoned of late.
I fear you all are more in thrall with the light cover that shields the rest.
So I ask you to bury down past the soft yielding outer layer.
The one that pleases the eye and fingertips.
Kiss and love beyond the lips and curvy hips.
Sink into the dirt of me.
Land in quicksand but stay still
Then I know you will
Stay. Forever. Stay.
(C) Slumpless

Intricate Magic

Once upon a time there was a sphere
floating and spinning in the blackest of nights.
On this sphere lived a people whose need to survive depended on a translucent potion which fell from their skies and only their skies .
They also required a rare combination of minerals and vitamins which they could consume from strange creatures which also inhabited this round rock. Some of these creatures even became loyal to them and lived alongside them like family.

These people had an amazing superpower which allowed them to thrive above all creatures and create special crafts that could fly high high and others which could go deep under the translucent basins which dotted their world.
They made special portals which could link their minds over huge spaces and meant that no matter where they went they could speak to whoever they wished.
They could make amazing sounds come out of apparatuses which they fashioned from elements around them. And often they would move involuntarily to these sounds.

Every piece of these people was intricately made and seemed to function as if by …..

“Magic ? Was it magic mother ?”

Of course it was magic my love but the strangest thing about it all is that most of them didn’t believe.

“In magic?”

In anything.

(C) Slumpless

A Writer’s Prayer

“Why do you write?” He said
The words echoing in my head
Why wouldn’t I ? Why wouldn’t I ?
To let you in
Or keep you out ?
Do I write to shout ?
Look at me. LOOK at me.
Is that why I set pen to pages
To last through the ages?
Remember me.
For this ?
A few words casting only a few sparks.
No Heaney or Shelley
No Wordsworth or Keats.
No wins or defeats
Just me. Just me.
Just a word without the S to make it sharp.
Doctor Imposter in a shower of pain
Always the rain.
But what would I do without it ?
Where would my soul go if not to fill a gap among the many lines.
So I write to fill up a space.
Both inside and outside
I always have and I hope I always will.
(C) Slumpless