the Phoenix Couple - JLG Clift

The worthless drones

From hopeless homes

Chant pointless lines

In perfect time

They mourn for her

The heartless whore

It makes my fucking stomach stir

I’m all alone

No fucking home

No fucking land

To hold my hand

No country song

To chant along

WITH THEM

She broke my heart

The fucking tart

The fucking cheek

To fucking speak

She sits and cries

Spills fucking lies

Into my ears

Sheds crock skin tears

Onto my bed

Into my head

She can’t be here

She’s fucking dead

WITH THEM

It’s gone to shit

The lot of it

I’m looking down

From higher ground

Watch you leave

In fucking heaps

Hit the ground

No fucking sound

Just fucking mounds

And fucking mounds

And I am not

WITH THEM

The last man stands

On no man’s land

No one to hold

His fucking hand

I look the wreck

Too lost to check

The fucking text

Upon the screen

If I had

I would have seen

The last words she

Fucking said:

‘I wish you’d all

Drop fucking dead

I cannot take

You in my head

I shall not die

I shall not wed

The fucking man

In the fucking sand

Proclaiming his love

Unto the land

I cannot stand

I cannot stand

The nicest souls

Meant for mine

They think I am

So fucking divine

I’m not I’m not I’m not

That girl

I do not take the bitter

World with virgin eyes

And a tender mind

All I see is

Fucking lies

And fucking lies

And fucking cheats

And fucking freaks

I cannot take

This fucking heat

I cannot stand

I cannot stand

Get out of the

fucking Sand

You Loathsome Man

I do not wish

To live my life

With you in this

Fucking land

Nor fucking here

Nor fucking there

Or mother-fucking anywhere

I merely want

To eek along

I do not care

For your fucking songs

And sugared words

And infant eyes

You’re fucking great

I’m fucking lies

Bravo

Congrats

Surprise Surprise

You make me feel

This fucking way

There's nothing left

To fucking say

I cannot stand

I cannot stand

Don’t try to hold

My fucking hand

Leave me on

The fucking track

I want this world

To fade to black’

She falls into

The fucking pit

With every other

Piece of shit

There is no smile

Upon my face

In fact I feel

A fucking disgrace

I blame myself for

The fucking girl

Who shed those words

To burn the world

To burn my heart

And singe my soul

Make my thoughts

As black as coal

I want to dive in

To this fucking hole

But there’s no room

For me to loom

To fall into

My fucking doom

No fucking room

For timely demise

I walk the world

Her fucking lies

The only words

Inside my head

shadow vultures
pick the dead

but one amoung
glows cherry red

the Phoenix burning
feathers churning
on the winds flailing
her body failing
the rot scaling
the wings
strips the feathers
from the bones
she cries above
the constant yearning
never learning
i don't care

Anymore

she can scream
her rouge throat raw
until she falls
into the hole
her body burned
red turns to coal

and she does
and she has

And now she laughs

Down in the pit

For leaving me

This heap of shit

And I am trapped

WITH HER

WITH
NO ONE

WITH HER

Native Thoughts - JLG Clift

There is

a surge

an urge

a burn

a churn

a drive

that thrives

within my

soul

I am

failing

to control

this vibe

that courses

through

sub-

conscious realms

as a tribe

of need

they chant

for a breaking

as my

teacher

rants

about taking

the message of

mediocrity

'i must break free' but

his preaches persist

and are absorbed

by tribe-less minds


colonised

sterilised

victimised



I will not

become

one

of

them

Ode to a Teacher - JLG Clift

Facist swine
that
takes my wants
to wine and dine
doesn't have
to strive to
get what I
could never
afford
hoardes
everything
I ever
wanted


he keeps
them
in vaults

vaults that
run in
spirals down
Number 10
down his storage
towers above us
in every
poster
roars
in every
speech

But I've
 met him
looked down
at him
heard his
speech tumble
in
mumbles from
trembling lips

'Don't Hurt Me'
he stutters
in mutters

I wish I had

Public School Primitives - JLG Clift

Look around
see them
dragging
their
knuckles

PMs
Primitive Ministers

Yahoo

is a
compliment
to the
Eton chimps
that bang
their fists
on relic desks
that
serve as
altars for a
sacrifice
of reason

laws, wise words
are torn out
hurled
balled up they
leave simian grasps

fly from
right
to left

from left
to right

thuds
followed
by howls

that echo through

these hallowed
halls once housed
nation's fate

but no longer

look around
and i
see them
dragging
their
knuckles

our fate
is decided

we are all
lost in the
wake of

primitive
notions

forced
to
endure the
motions
of this
privileged
zoo