Lonely Longings

Lonely Longings

My lonely heart whispers sweet nothings,

my ears hear nothing but its lonely beats.

The rushing blood longing for the rush of love.

The feeling of warmth that glows from within,

like a shot of brandy to the brain.

My eyes are hazy, its hard to see through the tears,

they distort the world to how it feels.

I'm drowning,

drowning in the feeling of you;

whoever you are.

I know you're out there somewhere,

waiting for me, like I'm waiting for you,

waiting for each of us to join hearts,

and hands.

To expel that loneliness,

to feel each others rush of love,

to feel each others rush of blood,

in each others heartbeat.

To feel the warmth that we both recognise,

and both need.

To feel that shot to the head,

and to the heart;

making us glow from inside out.

I want to see your tears through mine,

as we finally realise –

you are the one.

By J. Barrett

Counting Down The Days

Counting Down The Days

I just want to go home.

I'm hungry,

        empty.

Sick of being melancholy,

        hate not having money

                and I hate not being free.

Why must I stay here,

         unable to do the things I want?

I feel trapped by my generosity.

You owe me,

        yet you're not paying me back.

Let me go, I just want to go.

I want to leave, and honestly,

        never see your face again.

You annoy me, fill me with dread,

        that my life is forever

                going to be surrounded by people,

                        people just like you.

Leeches on my wallet

         and my soul.

You owe me,

         supposedly paying me back.

Yet you still take,

         and I'm left with nothing.

No wonder I feel so empty.

By J. Barrett

Fox

Fox

I.

Grey clouds. Green fields.

Wind swept. Grass hills.

White lamb. Red fox.

Loud bleat. Jaw locks.

Red wool. White teeth.

No more. Heart beat.

Jade grass. Bronze stain.

Gun shot. Run 'way.

Black boots. Brown hooves.

Reins crack. Beast moves.

Amber stock. Silver sight.

Bush shakes. Aim tight.

Black fur. Blue words.

Dog barks. Unhurt.

White paws. Black paws.

Chase on. All fours.

Brown hooves. Black dirt.

Kicks up. Pound earth.

Black dog. Red fox.

Den hole. 'Neath rocks.

Grey stone. Green shrub.

Fox hides. Scared cubs.

Red fox. White man.

Two beasts. Make plans.

Navy sky. Golden moon.

Day's done. Back soon.

White cheese. Brown bread.

Gut full. To bed.

Black hole. Clear cave.

Sly fox. Cubs saved.

Cyan sky. Yellow sun.

Man up. Smile slung.

Brown hooves. Black boots.

Travel on. Same route.

Black hole. Red stick.

Match out. Light wick.

Pink ears. Tan gloves.

Small bang. Loud 'nuff.

Blue hole. Grey smoke.

Dead den. Man hopes.

Black boots. Brown hooves.

Home bound. Work t'do.

Red fox. Green mile.

Cubs safe. Sly smile.

II.

Red fox. Green grass.

Found food. At last.

Slate roof. Black tar.

Explore. New farm.

Beige eggs. White teeth.

Bird coop. Beneath.

Red fur. Brown plume.

Quills fly. 'Round room.

Scarlet splash. Orange eyes.

Bird attack. Dying cries.

Red fur. White paws.

Carcass. 'Tween jaws.

Gold field. Brown gate.

Get out. Make haste.

Green grass. Blue skies.

Wind blows. Clouds high.

White paws. Brown ground.

Trotting. Safe bound.

Red fox. Rouge cubs.

Feasting. In shrubs.

White teeth. Red hen.

Then home. To den.

III.

Ruby fox. Silver fox.

Age comes. Death knocks.

Crimson cub. Copper cub.

Time's come. Grown up.

Black hole. Grey den.

Old fox. Leaves them.

Silver fox. Jade grass.

Lays down. Long last.

Sapphire sky. Bronze eyes.

Stare up. Last sigh.

Brown leaves. White snow.

Time comes. Time goes.

Beige bones. Black dirt.

Returned. To earth.

By J. Barrett

Sparkle

Sparkle

a spark extinguished before its time
obtained from a twinkle; ne'er to shine
glowing with life, preparing the womb
corner of creation; a transient tomb
embers from pulsing, passionate flame
forever now to remain unnamed
never to feel another's warmth
and all along the mother mourns
the tenderness this tinder missed
combustion created when couple kiss
illuminated from lovers' high
starting as a twinkling eye
glowing warmth from deep inside
a secret that they try to hide
that tiny spark alive at first
never 'twill receive its birth
extinguished as one would a flame
but was there really any other way?

By J. Barrett

Inspiration In A Glass

Inspiration In A Glass

I'm sick of thinking,
or trying to at least.
Waiting for inspiration to foam
up like the bubbles from yeast.
But I can always count
on inspiration in a can,
or served cold in a glass
from a bar woman or man.
And though I sit here lonely,
a single drinker amongst the few;
At least the yeast, it brings me peace
allowing my thoughts to come on through.
So while this may not be my best
and it's jerky and haphazardly writ,
I'm sitting here, drinking my beer
and I really don't give a shit!

By J. Barrett

Marriage

By J. Barrett

The Pains of Trains (and other public transport)

The Pains of Trains (and other public transport)

“Please, take the bus,” they all say,
It's the environmentally friendly way.
You'll be overly charged,
And if they can be arsed,
They might turn up at the said time of day.

Or maybe a train is more of your thing,
They're able to fit so many more people in.
Each zone travelled, you pay,
Though they're going that way.
And it's worse if you plan on staying out for drinks.

But, you can always call a cab if you choose.
Though whether they turn up is anyone's clue.
But they rant and they rave,
And it's shoved in our face,
That drink driving is so very bad for you.

So I guess we could all ride our bikes,
But some genius decided that can't be right.
If caught, you'll be charged,
Like you were driving a car,
Planning is now required before your big night.

Or, you could always just do what I do,
The time's come and your night is now through,
Get caught disturbing the peace,
You'll get somewhere to sleep;
And the police cells aren't that bad to wake up to.

By J. Barrett