Scraps of paper found with these on;

'The ideal demographic is a transsexual,
chuckle complacent comedians with mirth'
me, a few month ago, found on scrap of paper
-possibly half a response to one of Frank Turners songs




'a peacock and a lioness may never lie alone together,
walking streets as strangers on the roam,
resounding pleasure lost in a moment
from the past forgot.
Embrace the turning seasons and ride the crested breast,
perhaps you will not feel left behind, pacing the den.'
me, a few months ago, also found on scrap of paper.

unsure what spurred this, but I like parts of it

if i were born of earlier days, i would lust after you this way

The finger tips on your hands arouse ice cold rivulets in my thighs.
You tell me it is because you traveled far to release my flesh.
So where is your warmth and lust of life that I saw aboard your ride?
You turn away and back to rip my bosom from its sheath of cloth.
All my vulnerability is open and taut standing attentive to you.
You have hidden your essence deep beneath Siberian caves, it can only be so.
Hindsight shows you for the fallacious beast, the arctic fox without a den.
Yes I still aim my body towards yours, throw my heart out so it bleeds.
The chill from your extremities excites my veins through to their core
An ice broken, shattered storm, fallen from the highest heights, I know mine.
The purest thing is to bend and mend and heal that craving from within.
Rape my body and throw it to the side and leave me lusting for more.

don't fear the darkness - revised

Threading through the forest of memory
the thickest of the branches clouded ways that would
otherwise be the fuel for the fire in your heart.
The hunters way is dampened, but the hunted
he makes a light of integrity and justice.
If only the call of knowledge was easy to decipher
for between the fore fathers and what they didn't know,
to our parents, and their children’s children,
who stare at the new generation: Civility a thing of fantasy.
Blame is thrust around upon majestic sticks of glory,
in metallic and frivolous pink armies storming the streets.
For the sake of nothing. Nothing is the brightest star
the one with lesser than the least of the evils
to understand is to wander through the darkest forest
even if you can not ride upon the lusty horse.
Shout as you want to shout and scream as you want to scream.
The tree's will hear you, divinity would be broken when uttered
so childhood deceives you in the memory of a darker time.

'No Sparklers?'

No sparklers in the field within the fence
what a fright, for fear we may all turn to the feral,
burn ourselves, each other and our children.
Your offensive gang nam style plays on a screen in front of the fire I came for.
No quintet to keep me company, Cardiff, what are you on about?
And. No Sparklers!

Guy would have burnt your house down too
Tied a string through all the houses
Told you all to watch the barrels roll.
He was the original terrorist for the people

Ok Catholic they were, but he fought for a voice
Isn’t that why we all go out, mix with our neighbour
But no don’t use those sparklers people

Oh and stay at least 10 meters from the fire
Just in case Guy rises from the embers
and slaps you with your pitiful match.
Have you burnt down the houses yet?