Cinnamon Kiss

Cinnamon Kiss

The sweet pepper smell of cinnamon permeates;

I can't wait, with my wild heart rate,

For you to satiate my needs and abate my seeds.

Drain my body, pull upon my soul,

Tug at my skin, make my head spin.

I'll be the ruler of hell if this is a sin,

When we begin to be akin within.

Outside is tingles and energy;

Our bodies are ready to feel the steady beat,

From head to feet, of another's heart beat.

Skin pulses, veins throb,

Clothes come off,

Inhibitions come off;

Skin finds intimate skin,

Matching those feelings within.

Nothing else exists,

Except Two and the one thing that persists,

The sweet pepper smell of a cinnamon kiss.

My Queen

My Queen 

Sometimes I'm a jerk who doesn't think before I speak

But that doesn't mean my knees still don't go weak

Sometimes I say things that are poisonous and mean

But that doesn't make you any less of my queen

Sometimes I might not appreciate what it is for us you do

But I still think we're equals, it's not a me plus a you

Sometimes I'm short, curt and obscure

But that doesn't mean my love for you isn't pure

Sometimes I might not treat you the best

But that doesn't mean that I love you any less

Sometimes I might act like I'm sitting high above you

But I'm not, you're my perfect partner and I love you

X

Free as a Bird in a Cage

Free as a Bird in a Cage

A bird born in a cage knows no different,
Those wire walls are his realm.
Beyond them is a world he’ll never know,
Unless he escapes their comfort.
But given the chance, with the door left open,
Would he take it, venturing forth?
To stay where he knows, where he feels safe,
Is the easy option that most take.
But if that door stays open a long enough time,
He might just spread his wings, fly.
He might leave the comfort of those wiry walls,
Soaring through a sky of blue,
Fly high above mountains, or swooping down,
To leave ripples on a rivers waters.
He could flit amongst cities full of endless noise,
Or glide above an ocean quiet.
He could get out there and see the whole world,
Realising it was more than the cage.
If he left behind the comfort of those walls of wire,
Leaving behind him what’s known,
He would see that a whole world awaits him,
With the adventure of the unknown.
If the door was left open of his humble abode,
Would he spread his wings and fly?
Would you?

By J. Barrett

My Own Man

My Own Man

I know I'm a failure in your eyes. 

But your version of failure is different to mine. 

Failure to you is an old school view.
Failure to me is basically not being happy. 

Where you see my failures, 

I see success. 

I left sadness behind me long ago, 

And I refuse to have it back. 

Sure, to you I might seem slack, lax and whimsical. 

But to me you seem stiff, bored, just simply existing. 

Going through the motions of life without living. 

Don't hate me for what it is I've become; 

After all, you had a hand in this, 

I am your son.

By J. Barrett

An Irish Nightmare

An Irish Nightmare

Thirty three thieves thickly thought,

Of the thousands that they would thwart.

Thereafter they thoroughly theorised,

Of the thrill that they therefore thrived.

The theft from thimble to throne,

Thwarting all with thrust and throw.

Those thugs through the thistles thundered,

Thrashing the thickening thorns thereunder.

Then those thieves, in the throes of thirst,

Thieved the thermos from their third;

The third thief thrashed the thirteenth thug,

Thumping the thirteenth thief a thorough thud.

The third thief was thereby throttled, although,

He threw his thumb at the thirty third throat.

In the throes of thumps, that thatch of thieves,

Got thwarted in the thicket, in throes of threes.

Those thwarted thieves, now thoroughly thin,

Those thirty three stuck thickly forever therein.

By J. Barrett

Still Life

Still Life


The rose petals fall dead to the floor,
Separating from a dead stem.
The vase, once full of life and colour,
Now is dry and barren and dusty.
The thorns, once green and juicy,
Are now hardened evil talons,
Waiting behind the dirty glass,
To attack anything soft and supple.
The last petal falls dead to the floor,
Its colour darkened and dried.
Sitting still in the dust,
Floral blood on the wooden boards.
The house is still.
The petals are still.
Life is still. Is gone.

By J. Barrett

Forever Sorry

Forever Sorry


I’m sorry that I hurt you,
I’m sorry that you cried,
I deserved those punches thrown at me,
After I told you that I’d lied.
I’m sorry that it went this way,
I’m so sorry that it did.
I’d like to say “in another lifetime”
But who’m I trying to kid.
I’m sorry that it went this way,
Ending up with a broken heart,
I’m sorry we didn’t realise these things,
From the very start.
But I’m not sorry for what we had,
Nor the good times that we shared,
And I know you don’t believe this,
But I really, really cared.
I’m sorry you don’t believe me now,
When I say I still care for you,
My actions don’t reflect my words,
But I’ll always be here for you.
I’m sorry that I hurt you bad,
I’m sorry that you cried,
And I’m sorry that what we had,
Seems to finally have died.

By J. Barrett