Category: Ghetto Star: Pleasure & Pain

Dear Love

Dear Love,

I love you.

But I love the world around us even more.

I love our sky.

I love our sea.

I love the air we breathe.

I love the swans paddling by on a warm summers day.

I love the peace of mind when drama and pain fade away.

I love your eyes.

I love your mind.

I love your brain in its entirety.

I love your soul.

I love your heart.

Every heartbeat counts, no authority.

I love the way your smile beams through to my vision.

I love your warmth, including extra love only emissions.

I love your kisses.

I love your touch.

I love our love when love is never too much.

Love

Unique

Throw Money

At the bitch who acts like she knows shit but needs you to survive.

At the one that knows shit but would rather leave you to cry.

At the other, that takes more than they’re due.

At the stank looking one, who claims that they’re looking out for you.

At the people of people who’s people know people in need.

At bricks and mortar because every bitch needs a deed – for free.

At your habits, bad habits, needy fucking issues.

At a box of Kleenex because every dick needs tissues.

So What!

So what if I’m evil in most of my posts.

So what if Crow is more criminal than Ghost.

So what if you bleed over my pages.

So what if your tears fill backdoor paddling pools.

So what if your heart beats faster when you read through my blog.

So what if I’ve skinned you alive, with Crow above God.

So what if my words depict the horror and dark menacing ways of inhabitants on earth.

So what if Crow pissed all over your white roses.

So what if I spat in your left eye.

So what if I state facts and burn your mind with penetrative forms of sexualised context.

So what if you feel offended.

So what if you feel some type of way.

So what if you’re hurting.

It sounds like a YOU problem.

Maybe Baby?

Maybe I’ll pretend I can’t see the see she pollution pouring out your mouth.

Baby, I can smell the shit around your lips.

Maybe, I’ll pretend I don’t know you. But baby, please read a book.

Maybe, it’s true you’re wealthy! Only, baby, I don’t entertain ignorance.

Maybe, I’ll slip into a black fitting ensemble, diamond choker and have breakfast at Tiffany’s?

Baby, I’m out of your league,

Mentally,

Spiritually

Realistically.

Best wishes with your future endeavours.

Unique

Blessing

I don’t want your blessings.

I don’t want your blessings.

I don’t want your blessings.

Keep em’

Ask your God to bless the babies born with cancer.

Bless the sea that fills with plastic.

Bless the lands that burn through with fire.

Bless the air that’s polluted by humans.

Bless the animals that perish through human action.

Bless the homeless that beg, while unused homes fill with dust.

Bless the heartbeats that have long since faded.

I don’t want your blessings.

I don’t want your blessings.

I don’t want your blessings.

The Coin

In my pocket

I had £1 in my pocket. Left pocket, coat pocket.

I held it tight.

‘Spare some change please love?’

But what of this love? Who’s love? I don’t love you. You don’t know me. I’m walking by, right past you.

I reply, ‘sorry, I don’t have any spare change.’

What of spare change? Who has spare money? How would one define spare?

‘God bless you.’

What of this God? Why does he not bless you with the spare change you seek? Why do you ask for the change from strangers, when God is known as ‘all-mighty’ and women are seen as weak?

My coin is now hot.

My pocket is toasty and warm.

My mind wonders if God will return and save you, from your likelihood of doom.

I didn’t Know

I didn’t know about you prior to you being you and noticing me.

I hadn’t heard of you before you spoke directly to me.

I had never seen you before.

I didn’t know you were an undercover dickhead.

I hadn’t foreseen your consistent dramas and nonsensical way of life, prior to that day.

I didn’t know you’re just a glorified mouthpiece.

I can’t imagine you becoming anything more than you are currently – that is nothing.