Shall I compare thee to SDSS J0907?

Shall I compare thee to SDSS J0907?

Since we don’t have summer days

How about an intergalactic hypervelocity star blazing through the heavens

Making gravitational waves

See this star and its mate were doing laps

While Sagittarius was earning A* grades

But its mate got a bit lax, went space Icarus

In this case the event horizon of a black hole stands in place of wax

And the binary system that filled farmer’s heads with Tatooine dreams

Went from spinning around a cosmic cistern

To slingshotting a single star out on a galactic escape mission

The bonds that had begun to chafe were smashed

Safe to say the star was free at last

And with space being so vast

I pray this brush with fate will be the last

The other was not so lucky

As black holes they tend to suck so

In scientific terms: it was completely fucked

But as this is a metaphor don’t feel sorry for that star

Just twinkle on my darling girl

And know which one you are

Train to Page

I flip the page on another half-digested poem

And wish I could join the drunks further down the carriage

Or sleep, twisted and contorted, face pressed against the glass

And make time fly as the blurry world goes past

I do not know if it is yours

In an age of typing I do not recognise your handwriting

A text would explain away the mystery

Take the myth and turn it into history

Sprawling, cramped and crawling sideways up the page

Notes with torn off paper to mark their place

My heavy eyes open and the poem is forgotten

I watch your words race each other

To the bottom

Strikethrough

The NSA spies on the UK

On the whole we haven’t got much to say

The CIA goes surfing

Then bombs a shrinking Earth

MI6 is full of pricks

Intelligence analysis

The mayor’s got foot in mouth disease

God save us mad cows

The KGB has a glowing record

And a Ninja President Cyborg

Or Prime Minister, everything’s Premier

In Glorious Mother Russia

The Chinese [REDACTED]

[REDACTED WESTERN LIES]

The poet, with no history of drug abuse or mental health [WELL NOW]

Was found decapitated with multiple gunshot wounds

The police are ruling

Suicide

Meatsuits

Get into my headspace

Delve deep into my braincase

An Escher layered forward base the TARDIS of the human race

Do Death Star runs down Root Canals

Dodge the flirtatious tongue and

I’ve had some out in terms of teeth

There’s less than thirty guns

Am I the man behind the curtain?

Or have I passed the Turing Test

The answer lies in the beating heart

That sits within my chest

Under that’s the stomach

The liver is completely fucked

So really I entreat thee

Wish me the best of luck

Feet have many futures. Foxtrot or forward march

The crushing heels of dictators, the stance of Rosa Parks

An Adam Smith proponent, a missionary of Marx

Whatever you do, own it

You already look the part

Because of Love

If you were to make a list of things you should never do in the name of love

After the laughter had ceased when you first said

Stop

Then you might say, do not give love cheaply

Do not fall so easily

Because for all the bullshit about flying afterwards

The pavements are stained with the blood of broken birds that didn’t make it

You might say do not fall in love with the wrong person

You might as well say do not fall in love

Why do we say nobody’s perfect

But demand perfection in ourselves

Why do we go through the motions

Why do we still play against moving goalposts

It’s just a game to those who do lot like it

It is the lifeblood flowing through those who do

We hurt ourselves because we love you

The masochistic tango is our tune

Get Thee To Bed

I like to write at night when everyone is asleep

And no one can hear me stumbling stuttering

Saying something deep sending it twisting and tumbling

Turning it into something cheap

A punch line or bunting a not over brunch thing

A terribly overdone should have been counting sheep

Million miles a minute rain’s a natural beat

Never be making a killing but making mistakes

To fill the silence

Playing the record again on repeat

Playing the record again on repeat

I like to write at night no

The keys go tic tac as I type no

Why do I do this I do not know

I should gym get wider and go for broke

Ruin mothers like gin be a stylish bloke

Swag so much yolo I start to choke

When I shout marco you shout

I write at night when I have no time

And not every poem has a punchline