TOXIC NEIGHBOURS

I’m here back at the last resort fighting for the survival

Of this place which is the only place I can live in this ridiculous town

With gentrification creeping upwards from the soon to be

Holiday flat being developed on the floor below

And insanity crashing into my shared corridor

As next door, down that shared little space, I have a guy

Who’s on something I didn’t really know about until this week

Crystal methamphetamine is nothing but bad

Bad bad as even the fumes that leak under his door

Poison me and trust me I’ve done my fair share of bad stuff

Down the years but if this shit is making me feel like this

Without direct contact I dread to think what it’s doing to him

In his quest to reach outer space

It’s kinda funny that on the stairway side I got a woman

A strange one at that but not my kind who is convinced

We are all descended from that outer space; a Scientologist

That’s what she is but at least she ain’t trying to poison me

Probably guessing I’d tear apart any argument she raised

So, right now, I feel strangely normal here in the last resort

With both neighbours heading high and into outer space

Whilst I just sit here, smoking weed and trying not to die

Every time I walk out my front door.

THE END OF MY SOCIAL MEDIA TROLL, part 1

I've just experienced one of the problems of this 21st century existence

That moment when you've had enough of a so-called friend on social media and just want rid of them

They've messaged lots telling me how much they like me and yet they can’t help but hate me because they can't understand what it is I do in poetic form

My parents live in a big house and yet I moan about the state of my life, so fucking what

It's only that way because they worked hard to turn a mess into something great

And they wouldn't have that big house if they'd stayed here in shitty little England

If they sold up tomorrow they'd struggle to afford a studio flat in this shit tip of a town

So anyway there I was going through my list of so-called friends, eager to unfriend this wailing banshee of a woman

Only to then discover she'd already beaten me to it

Oh well fuck it, I just hope she gets to read this sometime and know that's it, no more forgiveness for you.

MY BEER THAT WASN’T

My beer is just that, MY beer

But the other night my need for weed

Dragged me outside where I wasn’t

Allowed to take MY beer so I left it

With someone I knew.  After the smoke

My taste buds messed I took a long hit

And immediately thought that this

Ain’t MY BEER.  I sit back and

Look around and reached the conclusion

That maybe this is MY beer.  I drink

It down and mad I go for at home

I realise it weren’t MY BEER; it was

Tainted with something that made

My mind flip out.  2 hours later

And I’m pacing my room, crying,

Dreading convinced this is my end.

LIFE & ART (FUCK BEING COOL)

Rock’n’roll died when it became something you could learn in school

Cos great old rock’n’roll was all about seizing the time, the place

And making it culture rather than just a commodity

When being rock’n’roll meant being a true outsider and not worrying about making money

As long as you had enough to get by and a love for the noise that’s all that really mattered

Now it’s all about labels and sponsorship deals

Gone are the days when rock’n’roll was a life, now it’s just a consumerist commodity

Lacking any real soul and just desperate to be cool

Rock’n’roll is fucked so I got in on this whole poetry trip

But with creative writing courses and those god damn workshops poetry is going the same way

Something that can be taught in school rather than lived and experienced

Essentially life should be the template for all great art and should never ever worry about being cool

HEARTBREAK FOR ME

I’ve been heartbroken so many times now

I just spend my Friday nights getting drunk with a gay guy

Getting drunk, listening to jazz and bitching about the state of our love life’s

How did it ever reach this stage? 

The jazz I can understand

But why is there all this damn heartache?

Am I hideously ugly or just plain shy?

All I know is every episode for the last few years

Has seen me dumped on to the steps of the heartbreak hotel

Whilst all she has is the life her beau can offer

No excitement and little to do besides be the obedient little house frau

That the boring career minded guy wants her to be

Whilst I just sit here, all alone

With thoughts that love shall never know me again

KEEP ON FLOWING

Now I sit here, alone again and for one of the last times

I get to look out my window at that view and I grow sad

As my time in the last resort is coming to an end

Despite it being a tough last year since David left and

He moved on in with all his trouble-making friends

And random angry visitors who sometimes camped out

In our shared corridor it has to be said that I will miss this place

As my life has been transformed since I moved in here

When I left the last place I could have no idea what this place

Held in store for me, all the words inspired and shared

With like-minded souls around the world

But now with time running out, less than forty-eight hours

Before I move myself around the corner I just hope that

Maybe, hopefully the ink won’t run dry and the words will keep on flowing...

Bradford Middleton

RATTLE: for “Writers Resist”    [Stefanie Bennett]

 

 

Best beware...

Of false Gods

Who

Share

Your fire –,

 

Pick the pick

-Pocket’s

Pocketing &

Snore

Like

 

Coyote’s tin

Ear

Edging

Towards

Battleground

 

... Earth.

the evils of the world

 

a mom shot

two of her

kids in the

head and

dragged

them out

to the front

yard naked

 

neighbors

couldn't

believe

what they

were seeing

 

she told the

police she

wanted to

keep her kids

from the evils

of the world

 

too bad no

one cared

to keep her

kids away

from the

evil at

home

like a burning cigarette

 

the pain on those

dark eyes

 

two lost souls left

on the side of the

highway

 

discarded like a

burning cigarette

meant to burn half

the world

 

we're not all evil

fucks out here to

get the better of

you

 

sure, not all of us

are not going to

try to fuck you

without asking

first

 

but never hesitate

to remember the

ones that open a

door or bring you

flowers

 

some of these

diseased creatures

even believe in

some wild concepts

like love at first

sight

closer to your soul

 

wipe your ass until you see blood

 

that's a sign you are closer to your

soul

 

put on some coltrane and smoke

those funny cigarettes

 

have a glass of something that

could double as paint thinner

 

stare at the empty room and

then imagine all the friends that

left you behind

 

there is no joy in being the victim

 

and if you keep believing that a

hero is going to come along one

day

 

i have this bridge to sell you...

 

strike before being struck and

maintain a somewhat pure heart

 

there will always be trouble

 

that's called life

 

you always have the option to

say no

it feels like years

 

a beautiful

woman says

hello

 

while you're

replying with

hello, you're

mentally noting

the day and just

how long it has

been since such

an occasion has

happened

 

it feels like

years although

it's probably

only been a

month or so

 

it's so much

easier to wallow

than just get on

with life

 

our fathers could

have taught us

this

 

but they were too

busy figuring out

all the shit their

fathers forgot to

teach them

the envy of something

 

dreaming of a better life

 

a beach off on the other

side of the world

 

a beautiful woman and

some how you're

allowed to exist

 

dreaming of being rich

and fulfilled

 

drop dead gorgeous

and the envy of

something

 

i suppose all my good

dreams died when i

got older

 

now i dream of not

feeling pain when it

rains

 

i dream of better

sales at the grocery

store

 

of fat that mysteriously

disappears anytime

i wish

 

i dream of someone

else doing the hard

work for me

5539

 

sitting here

listening to

my mother

snore in her

hospital room

after her hip

replacement

surgery

 

part of me

happy that

everything

went well

 

and the other

part of me

wondering

how many

more years

until i'm

sitting here

in a hospital

room like this

listening for

her final

breath

 

and will my

sister still be

in the hallway

trying to get

her steps for

the day

 

J.J. Campbell

Zeus the Action Hero

They found him on a far-reaching

casting call. There had been a time

when he would pretend to be a swan.

Pretending to be Stallone sounded

cooler. Lights, camera, action,

and it was all thunder and bolts,

fastidiously signing autographs when

the director yelled cut.

Full Height 

She used to sit in the corner

rocking in her old-style chair,

an antique they brought in so

she could play her domestic role,

pretending to know how to knit

the results were knotted

chunks of twigs and twine

they, in turn, pretended they might

one day attempt to wear

while she cradled herself

back and forth, the family thought,

My, how tiny

but then she began to flail

her arms one day and burst

the chair into splinters

and revealed her true height.

A Study of the Tantrum 

of course, now we record

them using the variegated

lenses we carry on our person

but I remember a time

when a being could thrash

and shout and the only

evidence was the casual

eyewitness or security cam

I even recall a time when,

to my ultimate Chagrin, I myself

engaged in a small tantrum

and thankfully there was no one

to hold it up like hieroglyphs

on our digital cave wall.

Guacamole Haiku 

verdant and cooling

yet raging with spicy charge 

metaphors for you

The Once Great Mammoth

He used to be

mighty and feared, keeping

all in order. Now he sits

on a flower-covered sofa

in a distant aunt’s basement.

There is nothing on television,

yet he finds himself looking.

He has not shaved in weeks.

JD DeHart