Turquoise Monster

Gaming boring boardgames
Gambling gumdrops
Frittering our free time
Singing to the tots!
Theme tunes
With plushy amime heros
Knitting alien head gear
Making cosplay
With spaceship cookies
Daftpunk dreams

The dead teacher hung from the rafters
A distended face locked in agonising turn
Students gaze glassy eyed uncomprehending
As they return to a parody of education
With all facts ripped from within

The police office was garrotted
Lycra tights of the sex worker
cutting into a thick neck that was stuck out
Trying to help
Now they line up against a different wall
Chips of masonry fail to plug oozing wounds

The charity worker a bloody pulp
Beaten with her own walking aids
Passers by avoid the mess with careful steps
Some remember… something
Litter the streets with copper coins
Until the street cleaners clean the stain

I bought a new dress
It was silkier than I thought
And when I put it on
I can’t help but think
That by the fashion police
I will be caught
You see it looks like it belongs to my 10 yr old
Really will I ever be so bold
As to don this lovely frock?
Will I be naught but a mutton chop
Some pruney wrinkly has been
But then I think SO WHAT!
If some think it’s obscene
I’m wearing my dress for me
Not for or against the femes
Just a star dress with galaxies
It is the best My beautiful new dress!

Dark crystal shreds of liquid thoughts
Bubble up from the blooded gash
Teeth pink pearls streaked with history
Falling as slithers from tired gums
A sleekness aswaits the frayed me
As it looses tatters of dignity
Shedding the physicality
Nothing now but posioned thought
Floating free
A mass of threads tangling
Meat is meat and no more
A ruby drop falls
Seeding the plans below
With memories
They will grow
Maybe they can be harvested
And burnt

There once was a warewolf called Bode
Who was I’m afraid anything but bold
Instead of going out at night
To scare people and give them a fright
He would sit at home eating cream cheese
Asking for cold tea with a thankyou and a please

Tolerance of intolerance
Is written on the walls
And leads to blood once more
Core entwisted to the noose
Swings in the shadows of the age
Once more fascism is the rage

Isms cause skisms
I’d rather have equality
Cos people are people
And should not depend on an identity
Forged from labels others have given to them
To stuff them into boxes and forget about them

Fear that’s within
Takes that which lurks
Festering hate
Do you know this dark rhyme?
Strange undertow
Drag and degrade
Loops of shame
Burn the heart
To ashes

“That’s the cross where Jesus dies
I spies Mummy
The cross where he dies
It’s a top the tower
Of that building
the one like a fort”
Little Mary has a thought
“But Jesus is a baby in my tummy
Isn’t that funny?
In my tummy
And he’ll be born on Christmas day
So my teachers say
But when I am grown up
The solders wont stand a chance
I’ll learn Krav for a start!
Protect him with all my heart
No one is going to hurt my baby.
No way!”

The Tome is reclusive in nature
Hiding nestled upon the shelf
In clusters of almost reads
Leafs and leaves and sheafs
With lives their own
Collecting dust
Raising silver fish
To make lace of words
Pretty in decay