Forever young

I fuckin wish!
Aches from injuries
Of youth and stupidity
Visit more often
Becoming close pals
We laughing
About the past
Youth didn’t last
As long I thought
We all need more
I aint sitting
Around crying
The aches move
And travel around
In me, a reminder
From the self that
The body is mortal
Like everybody else

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The city’s peaked

There is no crest of a wave
Nothing to ride and rise
Them times’re gone
Left is a shell
Where slugs wear suits
Unnatural beasts
In daily devolution

The boom time is over
We missed that boat
This is our now.
Hope the youth
Can swim

Dating criteria

Definitely no tories
(unless your family own horsies)
No snorers either please
Yes that tattoo is chinese
No I can’t tell you what it means
You should drink wine with me
Don’t care for your trips overseas
I’m actually trying to save my p’s
And no I don’t like to be teased

Don’t bother
If you support man u
want nothing to do with you
Keep those offers
of mind-blowings screws.
You’re vegan too?!
I don’t think I’ll rue
Sitting around feeling blue
With plates of meatless food.
You’d turn me to special brew!
That’s not something I want to do.

Zero-fade philosophy

Transition to zero
Hair becomes nothing
But sandpaper skin
You shouldn’t go
Against the grain
Is what they
Used to say
But didn’t say
The actual way
When the grain
Is so fine.

The fade is fading
Every second
Can feel it
Growing back
Life’s a fade
If it was one of
My hair styles
You think you’re there
But still nowhere near
where you need to go
But when it’s grown
The time is known
It’s zero-fade day

Broken phone II

Prose and photos
Of the puppy and
non-prose too,
All gone, my fault,
Broke my fucking phone,

Shudda known the noise
From washing machine
Was louder than before.
Screens broke data lost,
Boo fuckin hoo.

Sheets came out clean
So did the device,
The lenor freshness
Gives no comfort
When out of warranty.

Stone city blues

The colour in my city
is not on tall buildings
mostly grey dirty stone
is the place I call home
Memories of happier times
I love it’s dirt and grime
because industry made it so,
factories were full of life
the ones that pumped out smoke

Now it’s the jobless youth that
stand still and blow out smoke,
Where is their chance,
to add something more
to our Mid-land city?
The skins of my Birmingham
Now bring colour to our streets,
Don’t need shiny reflective circles
on wanabee-fancy shopping malls.

A city born a market town
and a colourful exotic market
is what I see today,
How you feel about colour is like
a tortured black artist once said;
“It all depends on who you are,
on what street”
A golden dickhead once said
My city is “a no-go-zone”
but this only applies
to that American prick!

If you look at the buildings,
you may get the blues
from the stone city greys
but stop and think…
our forefathers worked hard,
strong hearts with steel pulses,
in hot, smelly metal foundaries
to make it this shade of grey,
they clocked out coloured the same,
the black dirt stuck to all men,
Drops of our own sabbath black,
ink from wet UB40 unemployment forms,
our special colour made from darkness.

Hokey cokey storytellers

Time for a hokey cokey
sounds of words go in
then go out another ear
In, Out, In, Out,
these people are all about

They sniff a london powder
and chat some shit,
good thing that I’m aware!
Pupils now so big
tube trains could fit in
In, Out, In, Out,
Not even touch the sides

Roll another notey
to stop their down
and that’s what,
their life’s about.