You're Just the Middle Finger

Take a minute to remember

every fucking sentence you’ve rendered

hopelessly beating me

into this bleeding dynasty.

The heart of the warrior

smoulders underneath your weathered boots.

With arms like crowbars,

you shouldn’t be holding anybody’s hand.

Endless pain,

months of mad monologs with the walls,

and I’m too tired to notice the draft

rising from the floorboards.

Someone stabs in the night,

another one bleeds to death.

A love/hate tragedy.

A blind knife,

the blade of confusion,

struck 

with flares

and embers,

sprites and dark clown laughter. 

What’s the point of punishing you,

when you’re not even aware of having done anything wrong.

If Love Was an Animal We'd be the Hunters

The warmth celebrates its freedom.
It surrounded us in a passionate dance of affection.
She told me I was  being stupid,
but it was part of my charm.
I’m clumsy that way.
She held up her hand
waiting for me to hold it.
I was nervous,
my stomach tickled on the inside
but I wasn’t laughing.
She smiled at me,
said it was okay,
she knew what she was doing,
I was just there to enjoy the ride.

There was a firework in my mind,
jumbled up every word I had ever learnt,
making it hard for me to find anything worth saying,
you’d think any word would do,
but this particular warmth wouldn’t be easy to explain with just one word.
It burns you,
as it keeps you warm.
It crackles nosily,
as you fall asleep to the fresh smell of ash.

And suddenly you’re shaken awake,
astonished,
surprised,
comfortably paralyzed.
What burned?
It just might have been your heart starting back up again my friend.

Welcome back.

We Built Ourselves On Top of the People We Pushed Down

Ramshackle diaries, 

at least it gives us a way to get by

and pass the time

while we endanger ourselves by walking barefoot through a minefield.

We feed on the grass we walk on,

drink the sweat from each other’s backs,

and fuck in the dirt trails where thousands of soldiers have died to free us from the tide.

A while back they told us we weren’t good enough for these grounds,

we were told to keep our distance or first grade precautions  would be taken.

They had their batons out before they even finished the exclaimer. 

But time turned to dust and the bones of the fallen were left rotting in the grime,

colouring the stereotypes in their typical neon “look-at-me” shade.

There’s a faint tint of distress painted across the eyes of the survivors. 

A guilt not matched by the amount of bravery put into the effort. 

Careless slumber,

never knew how much we actually settled for but once it was done,

there was no going back,

and that’s when it all started.

That’s when we all started scaring kids with the bloody tales to force them to sleep,

a birth within itself.

“Calm down” they told us,

“It’s only a story.”

But they smirked as they knew it worked. 

We never moved. 

We never tried.

We stayed,

just like everybody else.

But today we roam the lands,

free to do exactly what we want,

when we want,

thanks to the bravery of the fighters 

who lost their life that day

when the war burnt holes in a million people’s hearts,

we still found peace 

in the smallest of things.

Disappointment [short]

It’s like saving your cat from a tree
only to see it run into the street and get flattened by a car five seconds later.

That Feeling III

Have you ever noticed that the sun is always there for you?

And when it isn’t, 

the moon takes its place.

There is always something in the sky, 

guiding you along.

There is always a road to follow,

there is always trees to shelter you,

and grass which you can lay on;

But for how long?

How long do we have all these beautiful things before the planet decides to pack it in?

Our planet is always mentioned in brackets,

like when a guide comes to the end of her tour;

“please enjoy all of the hotels numerous activities, 

oh and make sure you throw all your litter in the dustbins around the hotel.”

Why not mention that first,

so that little Jimmy had thrown his empty mp3 battery where it belongs and not in the bushes.

I’m sick and tired of seeing wrappers and beer cans lying in the shrubbery in the parks.

And just to bitch even more,

all the unnecessary chemicals disposed by driving into town when you live 15 minutes away,

pisses me off to the very least.

Just to top it off,

society is going bonkers;

Kids out of control,

adults molesting children,

individuals afraid to be left outside,

and people eating other people.

Well,

I hope we can all be satisfied with our contribution

to our beloved planets demise.

That Feeling IV

I’m sure you’ve all experienced that tingle in your stomach when you’re waiting excited for something.

You could be waiting for the post every day for something you ordered,

you could be eagerly anticipating a date with someone you’ve just met or someone you’ve been waiting for a long time.

It could be: wanting to get home from school or work to see the game,

snuggle with your boy or girlfriend

or go out for a beer round with your friends.

The absurd thing is;

when your order arrives and the waiting is no longer needed,

you don’t feel fully satisfied.

It’s not that the item was rubbish and you don’t want it,

it’s just that sinking feeling in your stomach, telling you the waits over and you got what you wanted.

It’s bittersweet. 

When it comes to meeting people

it is not the same sinking feeling.

Imagine going to a date you’ve longed for so much that your stomach was literally aching.

Then imagine the date not coming

and you’re left there with the rose you bought and the trimmed haircut you just got.

The one thing that is worse than getting your hopes crushed

and that is if the crushing went unnoticed. 

Therefore

I draw the conclusion

that sometimes waiting is better than what you get in the end.

Here's a pic of me wearing some Limousine merch.
If you have not heard of this band before, now is the time,
in a year, these guys will be played everywhere. No Joke.
They are a band with a huge inspirational impact on my own writing and singer Eric Victorino is the main inspiration that got me into writing poetry in the first place.
Check 'em out.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zx5tSmOY_iM
http://www.facebook.com/thelimousines
/Alex Jack Ralph