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Shankalline Structures – the Salts of Irritable Poetry

Sure, Christmas is a time for good will and all that. But it’s also a time to look back on the year and consider the reasons for your present embittered state. Most of these will be work related. It’s never wise to give up on those negative emotions. Perhaps you’ve managed to package them for friends and family in the form of a disappointing gift. Well done, your curmudgeonly spirit willl inspire angry verse in them. And so a creative outlet is created.  So here are some more of my poems generated by idiocy and without this Twitter stream to poetically piss in I’d explode. If you fancy you can follow @shankanalia on Twitter too, or just wait for the ‘collected works’ to turn up here.

How Nice That You Came To See Me
When I see your face,
A terrible despair
Sweeps through me.
Your visage of impending dumb
Hollows me fearful.
Idiotic portent,
Panacea blade.

Lost in Thought
Bitterly mumbling,
Bumbly stutter witter,
Trifling ignorance,
Blinkered gibbering fuckwail,
Ghost of a clue,
Of foundering thought.

O the consternation on your face
That moue of confusion
Crumpled puzzlement
How sweet were you a child
And not someone
Who should understand.

Jabby stab
Cut your dead weight
From off my back
Hacky slash
Your futile weight parts
Cutty cut
Your body’s eviscerate
Drippy splat
Blood pool.

When I See You I Think…
Your head’s so round and shiny;
Suited for kicking.
A boot (so shiny) to meet,
With force,
The crackable,
Shiny skull.

Mathematics of Hate
Retard fuck,
Your numerals are on the fucking wall.
Can you read them?
Add them up,
Subtract your life,
I’ll fraction your soul.

Aural Imposition
Your sonisphere oppresses my bubble of peace
Your discord
My effervescent hate
Not so noisy now.

Pot of Gold
Can you taste the rainbow
Arc of skull colour,
Face juice,
And mucous?
Brain jam on the tiles.
Messy little devil,
Hope you’ll clean up now.

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