Cold Caller

No, I’ve never been mis-sold PPI
I don’t need advice on debt
No, I don’t want to do your survey
And no, I’m not retiring yet.

Windows don’t need replacing
I’m not changing fuel supplier
I’m insured for death, insured for theft,
And I’m insured in case of fire.

Yes, I do mind the lateness of your call
No, your apologies are not accepted
Yes, this is me saying “No thank you”
And yes, you have just been rejected.



Beauty seems to sit precariously
Between hard and narrow lines,
The person we were destined to be
Sat outside their flawless designs.

Who sets these arbitrary partitions
Between the comely and the shunned?
What sets us in our given positions
Unbidden and yet unquestioned?

We straddle the spheres of perfection
Constructed upon impossible dreams,
Consigned by our societal perception
To live within the lines society deems.

Is beauty truly defined by subjective skin?
Is that where beauty does truly reside?
Or is our beauty really radiant within?
Ask yourself, only you can decide.


I’m climbing out of my headspace
Discarding my usual name
Looking out for a brand new story
Away from the man I became

The start of a new perfect tomorrow
At the end of a perfect today
Where time walks with me, beside me
Never trying to push me away

The world bends herewith my direction
Watching me chase new shoes
The path is a bright new singular garden
For growing and recanting my dues

Come with me to choose your new truth
‘neath the beat of spreading wings
Come all to the fountain of free thinking
It’s time to declare ourselves kings

Putin vs Croquet

If I could get up on a stage
I would be up on a stage,
Putin is a killer
and he should be in a cage,
the truth in this
is that.

He has shat all over
the Syrian plight,
a madman spoiling
for an easy fight.
Aleppo fitted the bill.

he likes to ride horses
with theatrical bare chest,
so we’ll think he’s strong.
Wake up Vlad,
put your vest back on,
you think
killing children
makes us fear you?
It’s clear you
believe you’re not mad?
You are.

You’re like a mad dog
hiding it’s mad bone
while the whole world watches
you digging your hole.
You must be smoking something,
“Vlad the inhaler”,
chunking weed
while training your lizard,
to spit on demand,
an emotional failure
with weed in your hand,
Go home Vlad.

If only he was a man of his word
we’ve heard the shit he says.
It means nothing.
On he goes
while the world plays
self interest croquet.
It’s them through the hoops
while he plays with his troops
and trains his lizard
to spit on demand.