First world problems

So your Mum’s on your back
Your Dad’s not listening
Your homework’s late
But it’s hard
And you have a snapchat waiting.

You didn’t want to smoke
But he’ll think you’re cool
It’s hard to know though
Should you text, facebook, tweet, email
Or make a phone call?

You’ve exam stress
Vomiting to impress
Lack of weed paranoia
Sort it out
Listen to your doctor, OK?

You know that band you like?
That band, the one nobody knows?
You must be like,
So hipster it hurts
So hipster it works.

Huh? You wanna be my friend?

Oh fuck.
Now I get to know that
You had a fun game of
Foosball/Netball/Basketball/Rugby
Football/Racketball/Volleyball/Hockey

That you ran 10.64 miles using NikeRun.

That your sessions of
zumba/booiaka/capoeira/pilates and yoga
Are done.

And seriously?
Is it really bootcamp?
Are you ready for war?
Are.You.Ready.For.War?
No??

Well, here’s a trophy for getting some exercise.

It sucks that your train was late
Your coffee went cold
That you have
Six million one hundred and twenty-three thousand six hundred and twenty-four
Emails in your inbox.

Maybe you shouldn’t’ve gone to Cancun.

To be fair
Six million one hundred and twenty-three thousand six hundred and twenty
Emails can probably be deleted.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Oh, I know, if only your disposable income
Wasn’t so disposable.
You’d be able to break
Your two year contract and get that new mobile.

I’m so sorry that you didn’t sleep well.
Maybe you should lay off the coffee,
Try a Nyquill.

Oh, by the way,
Congrats on your engagement/marriage and honeymoon.
Your wedding was super fun
You know what?
You’ve pretty much won.

Was it worth it?
The cute table settings
And the professional photo?
You must be feeling ready
For the happily ever slo mo.

But you know that Instagram?
The one you made your cover photo/background/profile picture
And posted in MY timeline
Of your beloved child with cake all over it’s face?
Seriously, that shit’s not cute.

So, you’ve overstretched yourself?
With your suburban life,
With your two kids, two cars,
A pleaded-for mortgage
And a labrador.
Haven’t you?

You’ll have to save yourself.
SAVE YOURSELF!

That inheritance you were relying on has all been spent.
It’s gone.
You shouldn’t’ve relied on it.
It was never yours.

Ah, you’re turning to the drink.
The wine; your salvation.
Your job’s not so important -
You can get another one, right?

Well, thanks for the offer.
You know, I’d join you…
For the wine, for the lifestyle,
If only I had a palate for it.
If only I had a talent for it.

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Heaven

Heaven;
Friends in definition
Friends;
Family in common direction
Until the rabbit’s gone,
The paths diverge
And one is less taken.

Slowly fractures become mistakes
Left un-mended
Or human distraction turns to
Conditional ambition.

I will be with you.

Richness of spirit
Advice without avarice
Equilibrium.

Two pound Place
Three o’clock late
Four pound Crescent
Five o’clock fate.

We’ll just have to keep up a dialogue.

Wine lunches roll into pub cruises
Miles turn over
When friends are met
On the silver river.

Random chats
Contrasted by rainy four AM to midnight
Talks only to be
Met by an angry face.

It wasn’t me
I didn’t do it
Don’t pin me down
Hold me back
Don’t you see?
This is just me.

Rainbow windows
Spring-tide snow
Puddles, deep, decorated by OUR smiles.

Caramel popcorn in the very early morn.

Emperor vodkas
Minor misdemeanours
Vomited eyes
And jägerbombers.

Yellow green memories
Thom Green songs equals
Missish confidence.
Wait. Mistake.
Make that drunken
Piano lessons.

I feel sympathy for those too blind to see the honesty.

Mushroom legacy.

And we. were. once. PIRATES!
Or gothic mechanics
Understanding the
Rules and chasing revenge.

Just because you didn’t win…
Wait! There is no win
Only anti-win, anti-cunt face,
Anti-sex, anti-all the way.

Melancholy magnolias
Watching the stars
Apple harvest and pillow talks.

Get lost, get found
Don’t believe we’ll all be
Bound by rules
Society and all
That is expected of us.

We are not to be expected.

You are richness of spirit
My life long dæmons
My trees.

You are my magnificent.
My heaven.

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Go down easy

With curtains drawn and fire
Burning strong
We’ll open a bottle and
Pour a whiskey long.

We’ll reflect the day and see
Just how far we’ve come
I’ll look to your eyes;
I’m satisfied and home.

When all is said and done
We can sink completely
Oh my lover, we can
Go down easy.

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Memory-bound

Over-analytical,
Multi-purpose directional,
Tickle me complicational,
And banish it;
Memory-bound.

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March thought

Fingernail moon,
Snowing at noon,
Budding blooms
Turn to flowers soon.

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When you’re gone

You will exist in memory and heartache,
In my silence and solitary.
You will haunt my nightmares and daydreams,
My shadow and musings.

You will exist in the door frame,
That held your lean.
You will exist in my pillow
Where your arm laid instead.

You will smile through your daughter,
and laugh through your son,
their mannerisms and temperament
will reflect yours in turn.

You will always be with me,
Your strength will always guide.
I’ll rely on your opinion,
Though it’ll be interpreted through mine.

I’ll miss you every waking moment,
I’ll die a broken heart,
But let’s live this life to the fullest,
So those memories will always burn.

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Irrational pain

My brain struggles to tame my thrashing heart. 
It ties the beating organ down;
Willing rest.
If only it would settle, the pain will stop. 
Irrational pain, only there when you are not.

My brain strategises to calm my swelling heart.
It wraps the organ in cotton wool;
Minimising loss.
If only it would heal, the pain will stop.
Irrational pain, only there when you are not.

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