Judgment Day

There coming for you

like you came for me

not going to know what hit you not like I did.

You will lie deny

but you will know, you will know

and so will I.

There will be nowhere for you to run and hide.

You will live in the shame

as I have.

You will bleed

as I have.

You will run from the quiet times

as I have.

Your time has come

For my mother

for my brother

for my sister.

You will carry it.

Like a bag of wet bricks

you will carry our pain

You will lie deny

but there coming for you

and soon I will too.

Fresh Meat

I don’t like this yearning and you put it here in just the right place.
Been so long I’ve forgotten how to grab the ropes to pull me out of this space.
You’ve been here time and time before
I am just another Sacrifice.
Fresh meat
until devoured and forgotten on the hotel kitchen floor.
Once entangled with lust it over runs me.
I’ve gotten better over the years
now I only quietly shed a tear.
As to never show you or him or her
life and years have blunted me with fear.
I wont be defeated
I never have been.
It hurts now but then I rise, I rise with high and might, into the hemisphere of the light
and you become nothing
but a memory of the night.

fried brain

oily egg

puff eyes

whole mushrooms

dirty fingernails

flower pot

stomach pain

cheap vodka

sore joints

great band
empty bed

quiet

curry munching

leads to something

straight passage

curry ass

thick cream
bowel screams

straight passage

wind blows

ripples on the water

warm sun

sweet wine

its nice here

Hi

chain smoking
pot toking
brains floating

puff
choking

You

Like you
lust you
love you
fucked you
hate you
spank you
loose you

Thank you

Short Story

She bundles up what food and valuable belongings they have into a small hashin cloth tying it tightly with string.
She has given all the money she has for this trip, the future of her family rests on a man and his boat.
She is nervous and uncertain of what lays ahead, she looks down at her children her son only five years old
and daughter just off ten huddled together. She senses they can feel her distress
she hands her son a stuffed toy that was given to her by one of the generous ladies at the local market,
he loves that toy even if it is falling apart. It's because of them she is doing this to give them a better future.
To take them away from the poverty and war they have always known as home.
She gathers the children and heads off for the first leg of there journey a two day walk to the Manna Bay, she is worried for the children and feels guilty for burdening there small feet with such a long trek.
Yet feels hopeful when thoughts of a land that is bountiful and free are beyond the horizon.


Two days pass tired, weary, feet blistered physically and emotionally exhausted they arrive at the boat.
They are hurried on, quickly! quickly! the man shouts. They collapse in a small room under the deck
the timber floor is cold and wet, she looks around her there are more families just like her setting out on this journey there faces a mixture of fear and hope. Slowly more and more arrive the space becomes cramped and hard to breathe the children are scared. It's an old boat she worries that there are to many people on the boat it is not stable enough to hold this many people across such rough seas. She has come this far there is no turning back now. The boat sets off for the second leg of there journey she prays to the ocean goddess to keep her children safe.


The first day passes by now the room smells of urine and fesses the children are weary and ill. The seas are rough and unforgiving relentlessly smashing the boat so hard at times It feels as though it may fall apart then and there. Another day passes the old are fading if they don’t get of the boat soon to food and water they will die here, The sound of the waves crashing over and over again ring through her ears. Until a voice is heard bellowing from an approaching boat they are American she does not speak much English but can tell they are American as she once met a young American that passed through her village many years ago. The faces in the room light up they are hopeful they have come to help them. There nightmare has come to an end, this feeling lasts only momentarily as two gun shots are fired into the air. Turn the boat around Turn the boat around you can not enter turn the boat around. They scurry to the top deck there they see a Navy ship with a crew of twenty and two armed soldiers.

They scream and plead with them motioning to there small children the women howl Please Please help. Take my children please… we can not go we have come so far please the boat erupts into panic and terror shrieks of agony irrupt from the women and children. They wouldn’t even have enough food & water to make it back should they try. The Navy offices are unforgiving and board the boat to turn it around I’m sorry I’m sorry one of the soldiers mutters under his breath. They turn the boat around the women throw themselves at there feet as the soldiers try to re board there ship. They have no choice but to turn around. She grabs her children tight, she realises the Americans don’t care if she dies here
and she likely will.

Ecstasy in Vein

I know this because she cries sometimes.

An infinite streamline behind her eyes.

He came he left her.
No longer by her side.
Her infidelity kept the heart ache inside.

Gushes and Geishas with the power to seduce.

All that white make up and red lips to suit.

For this is her art work, her piece de résistance.

A lover now taken that never belonged.

This is her dreamtime in wich she floats.

Remembering the embrace of being love choked.

Ecstasy in veins

love is beautiful!

but loosing it, left the girl stained.

Pretending is suspending

Conquer go on its nice!

Peer from the rabbit hole

out from the hunter sole.

If you dash and you dish

with a swift high kick

then u might just miss.

" Come on!! Give him a kiss"

for this is it now!

no beginning where it ends.

Pretending is suspending my mind

like for ever and some what never ever ending.

Say what?!

Ahh dull hurts!

Let's hit the turps

in the hope it will convert

the fluorescent from your shirt

into the words that you spurt.