Time To Go

 

Cheerio

It's time to go

The people have spoken

You have left the world a tad more broken

So now please kindly f*ck off

And go back under your rock

To a time much better forgot

And whilst you’re at it please take our Eton toffs

 

Take your division and hatred

The race wars that you baited

The flames you ignited,

with your lies and your bile

A mind so vile

So please kindly f*ck off

Go to your world that time forgot

And build a wall

Surround yourself with bricks

You hateful dick

Give the world some peace

From your insidious disease

 

Now I don’t want to be rude

it’s not a good look

But kindly sir,

off could you f*ck

it would be better if you left

unheard and unviewed

So that the world can be renewed

 

It's time to go, so please board a rocket,

this is our world so please kindly f*ck off it

I've heard that a place in the sun is nice

I'd advise mercury, it should suit you fine

Travel the stars, explore the vast emptiness instead

Just don’t let your hatred spread

We don’t want an alien to see your face

And think this is a good example of the human race

 

 

Thanks For Reading.

Pece & Love.

Kyle.

This was from a prompt, 

"Time To Go" 

on the Some-Antics facebook page

 

Not a Poet?

 

If words produce a symphony inside me

that wants to unleash its sound on all I see

then am I a musician?

not a poet,

just thoughts with no orchestral composition

 

If my words form like waves on water

They build and crash,

from tormented thoughts caught in sunken nets

darkness in the hidden depths

merely portraying submerged emotions

Then I'm not a poet,

but the surge of an ocean

 

If my words spill from my mind

like a glass dropped on an empty page

then are the words mine,

I'm not a poet,

just someone fumbling over clumsy lines

 

If my words seep in through dreams

during sleep they weep over notebook leaves

then am I just a dreamer, in a land of fantasy

not a poet,

but a viewer of vast galaxies

 

If thoughts trickle like letter rains

running down my mind’s windowpanes

then am I just searching in vain

not a poet,

but a word weathervane

 

Thanks For Reading,

Peace & Love.

Kyle.

This was originally a prompt on the Some-Antics group, 

Doorway

 

In this doorway

stood under a blanket of grey

watching time flutter into another day

flittering in the ashes as he flicks them away

the smoke in the air

is it a reason to be there?

or just a habit formed in a single moment of despair?

he watches passers-by in the dull glare

of an autumnal day stood in this doorway to nowhere

 

In this doorway he fears

crawling black clouds

falling leaves cloying

filling his mind with debris

dead scales of old trees

withered blades of memory

pangs of pain, hurt and misery

tinged with love, hope and honesty

fears all the things he will never see

and all that he will never be

 

In this doorway, opened up on another night

A blood moon rising

the sounds inside crying

the pain of loss

at hope slowly flying

fading vision

erased ambition

having no mission

or a star to wish on

 

In this doorway

searching for answers to questions he can’t find

losing his mind

will his thoughts one day collide?

an ocean sized explosion

eroding his head from the inside

will it cause words to fade?

stop the flow to page

cause his heart to rage

or just sit silently looking out to space

 

 

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love. 

Kyle