It had been pre
Cisely
A while
Since we sat in this pub
Everyday our pub – used to be anyhow…
Drinking pints and insulting
Each other
While hiding our own insecurities
Every so often
I question my sanity
But we’re all fucked some how
Until we buried
(Death being the last time your fucked)
Dead and buried or cremated
We know this much at least
We sit drinking
Weighing up the –‘s and the +’s of a heavy night
up in the towns
We’ve all got work tomorrow
So
We
Stumble home to sleep
Spinning in beds with madness and girlfriends
2.. Razor Blade Woman
The razor blade woman
She slashed my wrists
With her tired smile
The razor blade woman
Kissed a 1001 deep cuts into my mind
With her spider web butterfly eyes
Butterfly mouth
The razor blade woman
Dissected my lungs
Stabbed out my eyes
Sliced out my tongue
The razor blade female
Cut away
My soul
My beliefs
My hope
The colour from my life
3.. The Subway Preacher Man
I stood on the subway
My arm around my girl
The other holding a cigarette
A
Bloke
Pilled of his nut
With eyes of plastic doll heads
Came to me and gripped me
All he wanted to know
He said
Was what was tattooed down my arm?
Dum Spiro Spero
I said
What the hells that?
He said
Its Latin for, while I breathe I hope
I said
The pill head
Looked at both my girl and me
With wide asleep eyes
And gave me pill head advice
And said
After hope comes disappointment
Don’t hope just fucking go for it man
I nodded slowly
And lead my girl away
From the subways pill poppin preacher man
And onto our train ride home
While the light ripped through the night
4.. To A Complete Fuck Up
She is a complete fuck up
Flipside
To angels pocket change
Dies with eyes
Never smiles with them
She sits in her bathroom
And cuts her arms with a blade
To feel
Just a little how she wants to feel
She used to be a nursery rhythm colour
But now she is older
Everything is broken used and fucked
She sits in her car
Waiting for a different set of mind holes
Saving up with jam jars
Filled with blood and empty tears
She sits in her car
By the motorway
And waits
Biography:
Stephen J Golds “established 1983” was born and
raised in London Colney, St. Albans, U.K and works
as a labourer for a plant hire company, driving a
JCB forklift around aimlessly. He has been published
within a few magazines including Zygote In My
Coffee, Laura Hirds Showcase, Blowback Magazine,
Remark, Poetic Verse, Underground Window, Lunatic
Chameleon, Skive, Lit Chaos, 3am magazine, Indite
Circle, Instant Pussy, Strange Road, The Beat and
Dogma Press. He is currently working on a collection
of short stories and an anthology of poems that he
hopes will get published someday.
