Fucks Given. Or Not.

Fuck you, man

You gave me only hardship

Exchanged good blood

Anaemia your gift

Fuck you, man, I’ve rested

Know the truth now

You’ll drink me dry

Till nothing left but dust

Fuck you, man

Persuasion and your power

All lies you tell

To keep the grindwheel oiled

Fuck you, man

Not long now that you’re rumbled

Revolution imminent

Resolve

Survival of the fittest or the richest

I’m fit for you

Rich bastards

Watch me live

Watch me, watch me closely

Fuck your methods

I’ll outlive you

While, fuck you, I, no fucks can give

I’ll see you yet, in hell, when hellfire freezes

I’ll fuck your system sideways till I’m old

You have the means, we have the power

All that’s needed, hearts and souls, still whole and not yet sold

Fuck you, man…… although I’m tired

Weary of the fight…… but still go on

Let’s all fuck, as one, together

Can’t fight orgasmic power for that long

Fuck you, man, you faceless, mindless moron

The suit that serves you well won’t serve you long

Though fucked beyond endurance, we’re still standing

Fuck you, man, we’re fighting you, still strong

Watch the faces change as climax reaches

Point beyond endurance, simmering

You’re fucked, and time will tell,  you mark me

We’ll fuck you sideways yet, now boiling

Watch your backs, your anuses, you fucktards

We know you now for what you really are

Vampires, all, without salvation

I’m cursing you right here and none are barred

Your time is drawing close while ours is looming

Death beyond what you have ever seen

Expulsion from the hierarchy, we’re blooming

While you, you’re fucked, as if you’ve never been.

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So Odd…So Real

I dreamt anger last night,

woke late to the strangest feeling,

one I can’t recollect dreaming before.

Perhaps I have but don’t recall.

I’ve dreamt so many allsorts, remembered and not.

But to wake in anger,

disoriented, wondering why I felt so peculiar, was odd,

then

seeing the pictures flood back as spoon filled coffee cup,

pausing as steam turned its contents black,

visions in the molten awakener, of

one person attempting to bully

a whole crowd of grown-ups,

young and old but all compromised by power,

held hostage to her whims,

immobilised by fear.

I snapped several times, went against the pack,

refused to cooperate with petty injustice,

got right in her face and snarled,

‘They all hate you, you know.

It doesn’t have to be this way.’

She turned slit eyes on me, red and fierce

and spat, ‘ I despise you all’.

My parting shots,

witnessed askance by all, became

full of heat and promises 

of just retribution.

She mouthed, ‘I’ll lie.’

I knew she would.

Something About Fridays

If God,

or someone,

hadn’t invented Fridays,

or something,

I’d have had to run away,

somewhere,

to recharge,

somehow,

or I’d go crazy,

somewhat.

I could,

sometimes.