FUCT!

–

I will write until this pen snaps,

Claps shut on it’s trouble and strife divorced wife life.

Tearing pages before we hit preliminary stages,

It’s ages since I smiled.

Running thin from sucking on a bean for flavour,

Lord do me a favour and punch me to the floor

A poor child lifts a bag of burdened bones bored of his own stuck tapes.

Tear away the corners,

Tunnel Vision,

Positive Decision,

Division screams for an extreme,

Trading black market spleens,

Fuck me with a rake until the drip gleams in the corner of an eye.

I am frightened that I will never ride Gloria’s Waves.

On this day where Patti sings and none of my friends pick up the phone when it rings coz they are watching the gospel words fall out the face of a legend.

A true God speaks.

You pulled me through winters bleaks.

Peaks and troughs every waking hour force attempts to power through shit showers.

But we know you can’t force beauty…

Fruitfully paient,

Silence is postponed in the siren twat city with all it’s struggles wishing me to stay latent.

There is more than this.

I see it in the other sisters and brothers.

Somehow they found a way through unstrung hedge mazes,

Gritting tough week beef and instead of dying,

Dancing and sweating inspired pressing into human soup amongst the loop and in sync with the worlds thinking not thinking leers.

They are broken but not so broken,

They enjoy Sundays Dazes.

When will you come?

When will you come?

Withered cripples in ashes,

Limbs snap back into place.

We watch as the chosen dyer confusion melts off their face.

God say me grace.

What is my place?

–

Written by Ted Rogers “Artpornblog”

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