No Status

You are no longer a Mother

A Daughter or Sister or Lover

No longer a person we wish to meet

You are the Mad Lady on the street



I saw myself from above

I was still grey in pain

I watched as the doctors nodded their heads

I watched as family came and went

I wondered do I want to stay here

When heaven and God are so near


Thump a pain runs through my chest

Thump a bruise to add to the rest

Thump did you ask me if I wanted to stay

Thump … I had no say

New Lovers

The path to

My sweet enlightenment

Seems clear

As my finger

Swirls round your loins

Smells excite


Our wanting

Your whole flesh

Entwined with mine

Until in a heap

Our souls combine

Trembling, wet flesh

Then nothing but; still

New lovers

This moment

Never forgotten

Little Rag Doll

Tossed aside

Her charm lost

Little rag doll

With a wonky eye

Do not cry

For another now will pick you up

Hug and brush your hair

And remember to yourself

While you lay there waiting

Little rag doll

With a wonky eye

That your creator loves you

You were made with care

And although not perfect

You will soon see

Another face light up with glee

Devils Spit

Cruel dark intent

I feel your needs bent

Twisted out of shape

Bitterly selfishly

Taking your desires

Out on the ones who

Willingly feeds from your

Emotional torment


Cruel gnarled posture

Looming ever closer

Bringing with it fear

Your own discomfort

From years of self-hatred

Wanting the soft touch

Never getting much


Cruel growling in your loins

Primeval intentions

Bubbling to the forefront

Desires swim out of control

Pounding pulsating

Expressions of pure hate

Needs to dissipate


Cruel sad and lonely

Bitter twisted no way back

Feeding from dark wells

Pits of stinking hurt

You cannot escape

Your soul is bare

Your only wish

Somebody to hate

My Friend the Tree

I look out so proud

Away from the crowd

It’s taken over a week

To take a quick peek

Out into the sun

Where ‘people’ have their fun

But what do I see

Which fills me with glee

A wonderful oak tree

Staring down at me

“Hey where have you been?”

He says with a grin

And brushes his leaves down his old oak chin

“Next time you are feeling down

Do not hide and frown

Come and sit with me

Your green friend the tree

.. And maybe consider being like me in your next incarnation” !



Primal Instinct

Primal instinct

Love of the flesh

Devouring our needs

In a web of decitful

Twisted pleasure

Opening your eyes

To the need to sin

Desirabilty of the body

Too much to ignor

As as lay myself before you

Your faithful loyal whore