Rat's rest

Another tasteless day

spent grinding.

Tenderised flesh 

clung on creaky bones 

wants nothing more 

than to plonk 

down, wedged in the best corner 

bearing his contours.

How many years will be spent in this position

imperceptibly withering

at home in he's web

fat congeales 'round his thoughts. 

A sustained stare off ensues

Where attention goes 

so too 

energy flows, 

he and the idiot box 

suck life out eachother.

As he switched on

settled in

he knew

It would either be

mirror mirror reality 

sliced 

diced

Kitchen theatre,

Talent show business,

or all three,

combined.

The celeb, sucks aways, soaked in conceit 

desperately holding his roll up, 

he witters on 

Well aware he is the spectacle

but oblivious

the weight of his words

would not trouble an ant.

The Adorables

The Great Debater

The uninvited, knock.

With bright eyes and a sheep's smile

father invites them in

concealing his glee

he leads them to the battle ground.

Mum wears a frown

how she dreads these contests.

Father fancies himself an authority 

familier with the world's religions

and all their flaws.

He relishes this opportunity

to wax theological,

flex intellect; test his metal.

Ever ready to pick apart the good book - rock certain

Jesus Is his prophet

not theirs.

*ding*

The living room patter is cordial;

light jabs, 

all the while he sniffs for an opening

the cursory dance is soon followed

by deeper intent -

he fires a loaded question

exposing a weak link in their battalion.

The joust, as always, takes a turn.

Dad's subdued voice

now booms free of constraint.

 

"You are a congenital idiot!"

Truth springs from arguments amongst friends.

but coversation between calcified minds yields no crop. 

My wife wears a frown.

I tell her

this is why we pick things apart..

It's in our blood.

Sayings

When that thing comes alive,

       I find my pen 

gripped by the scruff of the neck;

       tweaze thorns long troublesome.  

Brush layered dirt off my chest - connect dots in the mess.

       Between cut outs of the godless
and flocks of the believers,
       the world of space is rich
for dreamers to wander.

       Contentment is a grace

of abundant little treasures.
       Life's paradox: be grateful; strive for better.

The shadow deep within - outcast - labelled as sin.

       A mine of gems inside

to feed and fuel my vibe.