Love is lost
a bottle on my own,
king of my throne,
broken hearts
and broken bones.
love is lost,
lost is my love.
liquor you leave me bitter,
lover you left me tougher.
tears of despair
your not there.
love is lost
lost am i
poem by Not Long Left
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Love is, Love is not
Love is not eternal lust.
Love is when you do
not feel repulsed when
your longterm partner
farts under the covers.
Love is not forever sexual
Love is when everything
edible has been eaten
yet you still come back for more.
Love is, what lust lacks.
poem by Not Long Left
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Your Teeth Are Like Upside Down Mountains
teeth like upside down mountains,
eyes like those of a frog big and bulging,
ears like played with playdo,
freckles are like a parker pen explosion,
forehead large and plain like a desert.
nose is like a melting candle.
your legs like golf clubs,
your the most perfect thing i have ever seen,
and you know it.
poem by Not Long Left
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Fragilities (example 1)
A work weary father smiles
waiting for a train-
kicking away coldness
with warm thoughts of love.
Split second later
side searing pain
skin separated by the cool,
indifferent, reflecting blade.
Blood flows and spills-
filling the cold concrete cracks.
His eyes resisting silent dark
view becoming confusing.
His two children kiss mother goodnight.
poem by Not Long Left
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So This Is What Has Become Of Us.
So this is what has become of us:
You crawling on the cold kitchen floor
heaving your heavy frame, panting-
whimpering and wounded.
And me, sat in the lounge just four
feet away from your slivering form
staring at the Television, lips trembiling
from the sudden death of Auntie Jane
knowing that she will not smile
that splendid smile on screen again.
poem by Not Long Left
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Fate Has Finally Finished Us
Fate has finnally discarded
us, thrust us into a place
with wet walls that rise further
than the eyes can see.
All around us are the shattered
remains of yesteryears love
fragments of muted memories
that cut deep into the skin.
Barefoot we walk inbetween
the once, and the was.
Upon a battlefield of broken dreams
where ghosts linger in the mist
eternally searching.
Fate has bored playing with us:
Check mate my love.
poem by Not Long Left
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To those who dance the night away
Beneath the sordid streets,
the beat streaks from below.
Deep down underground,
Camden underworld
is heaving.
I am right in believing,
that poets don't dance.
From the side,
Eyes wide,
Observing those who dance
the night away,
whilst I play word games,
and only dance with the
words in my head.
with feet like lead.
I envy you, who can Dance,
and drink, and move
like monkeys.
There is no fun,
in poetry.
[...] Read more
poem by Not Long Left
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Waiting For The Hands To Touch The Stared At Numbers
tap dancing on lillypads,
singing in fields of silky spider webs.
swimming in lakes of lemonade,
climbing up sugar shimmering mountains,
swinging on ropes of silver and gold,
staying young never getting old
bouncing on B.F.G's belly,
lost in the maze of his ear,
flying a fighter plane, not having to steer,
skating on permanent frozen ice,
riding the graceful unicorn,
20 minutes left till the hands touch the stared at numbers,
then the skin can be shed,
office can be left,
chemicals can rinse a tired contained brain,
5 days before i have to write this nonsense again
poem by Not Long Left
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How Easily Humans Settle In Their Own Despair
How easily humans settle in their own despair,
It's far less work not having to care
For anyone but ourselves.
Like forgotten books on high dusty shelves,
Nothing gets taken from inside.
Within our cloudy minds we hide,
From those who suffer.
As a child clings selfishly onto its mother,
Its only thought is itself.
A bath is more comfortable when used alone,
And so nothing nor no-one is invited into our home.
Life is fragile,
And although we carefully pack and place,
One slip and everything is exposed to space.
How easily humans settle in their own despair,
It's far less dangerous not having to care.
poem by Not Long Left
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End of school day
like prisoners finally freed,
the children flee from the school,
restrained minds, tied up tongues,
untied.
showering kisses upon mother lips,
with hands layed out like beggars,
as they await their sugary treats.
each day these little minds grow,
each day a little more they know,
The more they understand,
the more they question.
innocence is lost in the classroom,
knowledge brings both joy and gloom.
when all have passed through the schools gates,
and when the beat of tiny feat is muted,
The ghostly innocence of past pupils,
searches the unsettling silence of the classrooms
[...] Read more
poem by Not Long Left
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