on the roof
My Shadow
I’d never seen my shadow
As I never cared to look
Didn’t care about education
The power in the books
Wanted a quick fix
Just want to role a six
Picked up the stones and stick
And put them in my pockets
I’d throw the stones at kids
The ones with weak bones
Lying broken alone
The smell on breath
That’s not why they follow
They creep above the gravel
And stay inside me where I’m hollow
No one wants to be your friend
When they’re on your back
But I suppose I earned them
Since the night of the attack
Though I don’t talk about it
I’m reminded everyday
By my shadow of flies
They never go away.
'flies'
pen and collage on paper (400x600) 2008
Old Shell
It was empty like a hollowed out avocado
Nothing inside, just a shell of old skin
Anything of worth, was long, long gone
Any podgy pink thought was malnourished and thin
Spat out, but with no trace of saliva
Like a deep sea diver but without a single splash
Stewed in it's own juices, but the process was useless
As it soaked up all the good
Now we're just left with gristle.
'old shell'
pen on colored paper (400x600) 2008
My Panties
My panties have got too tight
And I'm trying to have a fight with my bottom.
'a fight with my bottom'
collage and pen on paper (400x600) 2008
Peter come back.
Peter come back.
Peter come back.
Peter come back.
Peter come back.
Peter my darling come back.
Peter come back.
'peter come back'
ink on paper (400x600) 2008
'going home'
pen on paper (400x600) 2008
'just gone two years'
charcoal on colored paper (400x600) 2008
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I’m Sorry But I’m Dead Now
Fell into a puddle of trouble
Got myself in a muddle
The trouble soon doubled
Walked back in reverse, out of the grave and into the hurst,
Arrive at the funeral, into the church I burst
Choir singing the chorus now they sing the verse
They sit down at the pews mum’s speech is first
Then dad’s, Emily tried to speak. She’s my sister, she’s sad
But no one was happy why would they be glad?
Was I cruel and unkind, selfish and blind?
Putting myself before others all of the time?
She wouldn’t be pleased that I now lie deceased
In a coffin of wood with cold and stiff knees
My girl sits there too I’m sorry I left you
First once and now twice, how could this be true?
I was wrong to be hasty, now my face white and pasty
I lie here dead my spirit set free
But with a burden of guilt rising up to the rafters
We could have been one of those ‘happily ever afters’
But we’re not, as I left you and then later I died
Now here at my funeral the girl couldn’t cry
She’d used all her tears, her reservoir had run dry.
'my funeral'
acrylic on paper (300x400) 2008
'trouble sleeping, like churchill'
ink on paper (600x800) 2008
'i find it hard to talk to you'
ink on paper (400x300) 2008
I had a dream that I was ugly
grotesque beyond belief
I searched for love from others
but I found no relief
though somehow two girls loved me
and saw beyond my crude aesthetic
but I could not choose between them
my actions were pathetic
so one by one they dropped me
I had tears in my eyes
as I realised I was ugly
and put on my hansom disguise
'an ugly dream'
mixed media on paper (400x600) 2008