Mind spiders mistily silk-coat
guilt barred and bolted cerebral apertures.
Petrification rules dream path
for unmothered, mithered child within …
Inviting portal another deadly dark canyon,
or a Silver–Screen giddy glimpsed treat?
Jump into the faith vault of sunshined May-days,
hazy, lazy days of promenade bays,
paper flags adorn sand pie castles.
Salty Welsh-butter rolls tingle the tongue,
strong tea on a tray from gaudy kiosk,
brandy snaps and a cruet for loving Gran,
hanky headed dad knows the deckchair man,
hook-a-duck win a Victorian fan.
Jet clouds horizon gather
and begin the cold rain lather,
hushheart crush the self-sentenced loner.
Periculous tide-flows in
lifelong ill programmed ides
Keep of self-belief.
Hopeful memoires sandshifted, sucked away.
Man-sized beach ball bounces brain cells incoherent edge.
No remorse from the unmoved insider Judge…
Therapy umbrella holed and spent…
murk-bound legs confound ascent
up sensible slippery slope of hope.
Run-catch Psychology’s open-top bus, free ride
a cognitive Conductor to aid new views to stride.
All routes black-leaded, head back
to the dimmed, dire depot, where
crooked finger-pointers hover, at the terminus…
Firing old catcalls faster than a Winchester…
Last tram to Turpitude beckons,
one self-written ticket to the apocalyptic chasm.
Shuttered eyes, remain wide open,
daylight struggles interrupted by strangling transmissions…
Flip that wheel! Go speed-kiss an oak!
Who will miss you?…
Really? You dope!
Pill it up, bid ‘Au revoir’ to failed neurons,
lick petroleum nectar, inhale hosepiped release.
Love the feel of Egyptian cotton…
ideal sheeted noose over W.C. door,
depress that gurgling apple…
Show them all, have the last Ha Ha.
Gaze down on your boxed, addled shell from afar
while the Cemetery crocodiles tearful drips
salt stain musty gospel books,
not one little culpable look
in Christ’s Chapel
…as a line of suit-cased Mind Spiders exit…
Looking for a new host to pest…
the voices are silent.
Write poems of all genres, particularly narrative writes about people, life events and the world we live in. Haikus and Tankas when I can. Like short stories too, a little drama and monologue works also in my stuff. Reside in the Dark Kingdom of Lancashire, England.