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The Japper Napper.

The Japper Napper!

Darren Hobson

Published by Darren Hobson at Shakespir.

Copyright ©2016 Darren Hobson

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New Wave.

Just after I have papered over the cracks,

It was time for something new,

I had wiped the slate clean once again,

It was time for a new wave of words,

With my stance with the world,

Just a little tight and obscure,

I tried everything on,

Now I am distant and unsure,

As the new waves lap at my feet,

As I stand on a shore of sand,

I look ahead into the hazy distance,

I try to work and try to understand,

With so many words caressing me.

 

I have ways of weaving words,

But getting the right mix of verbs and tricks,

Not every reader can understand,

As circles are drawn in the sand,

So whose side are you on?

Do you draw the line at the final furlong?

Just like me do you wish to carry on?

Just like Babs did all these years,

Her English humour a blessing,

With a few rude innuendos here and there,

The whole kingdom watched her undressing.

 

Can you read between the lines?

Do you study in depth what you read?

My poetry is not really one dimensional,

There are hidden details crafted carefully,

Here comes a new paragraph,

Here comes a new phrase,

Here comes another poem,

To tease you in different ways,

I have poems to make you hunger for food,

I have poems to make you cry for justice,

I have poems that will make you love yourself,

All written with truth and earnest.

 

New waves come like seasons,

Some will be better than others,

Some will fly you like a kite,

Some will bury your hopes alive,

No use in crying over spilt milk,

Just complete the circle and start again,

Let bygones be bygones,

No use in unnecessary pain,

Bye, Bye Winter Blues.

I was feeling blue,

In the deepest drawer of winter,

Feeling closed in the closet,

Of the loneliest month,

I don’t like the heat of summer,

The sweating of armpits,

The biting of the bugs in your bed,

The crusty scabs on your head,

I like the dark but not so much the cold,

The drizzle on a work day morning,

You know it’s going to be a long day,

You know your life is boring,

Standing tall at the end of April,

You can feel the season change,

Wishing and hoping for warmth,

To scream, bye, bye winter blues.

 

As you study the internet,

Watching the weather channels,

On seasonal temperatures, ice cold slant,

Wearing winter clothing in May,

Desperately wanting some warmth,

Dying to walk around outside,

Fed up of watching the rain tapping the window,

You want to go for a long ride,

Far away from here,

Away from the grey sky,

Away from the cruel cold,

The wind blows dirt into your eye,

Wanting and yearning,

To say bye, bye winter blues.

 

Just as you thought it was here,

You felt the temperature rise,

But another storm front slides in,

Blowing away your dreams,

Torrential rain,

Strikes again,

One hour downpour,

Devastating crops,

I want to scream,

Bye, bye winter blues.

 

I want to wear Bermuda shorts,

And scare people with my over white,

Ugly and scarred legs,

I want to see,

The worst kind of woman,

Bursting out of the too small bikini,

That she was dying to wear,

Forever,

Bye, bye winter blues.

 

You took your time to come,

But I’m glad that you’re here,

So I can sip on my beer,

In the piazza,

And relax there.

But you are not here,

You have become out of season,

Another kind of wind blows in,

For whatever reason,

Coats in June,

No sun tan in sight,

Another downpour,

Another early night.

 

Summer excursions,

Put on hold,

Waiting for us all,

To get so old,

Summer time, good times,

Where are you?

I went to an outdoor rock festival,

Found only mud,

Anoraks and brollies,

Knee deep in shit,

Looking a total wally,

Raining on a Saturday,

Raining on my day off,

Sat at home counting seeds,

Wanting to sing loudly,

Bye, bye winter blues!

Japper Napper.

You went too far,

You know who you are,

A mouth that shouldn’t speak,

With two ears that shouldn’t hear,

A brain that shouldn’t think,

You should shrink,

You know who you are,

You went too far,

I didn’t really mention,

All the detail and facts,

Showing you confidential information,

Of all the government attacks,

On you!

They went too far!

They know who you are!

 

They poison the water,

You are all sedated,

Too tired for debate,

Too stoned to raise your fist,

The smog could be a lie,

It is a toxin smothering you,

Making you pay,

For all the things,

You tried to say,

Nobody listened,

Except them,

You went too far,

They know who you are,

Before the japper napper was set free,

Now the end has arrived for you and me,

When censorship is not far enough,

When death is the fairest of the fair.

 

Here comes the japper napper,

Yapper nap,

Nap,

Nap,

Nap,

Nip,

Nap,

Nap.

 

You went too far,

Look at you now,

Paranoid,

Scared of your own shadow,

Are they listening to you?

Reading your email’s?

They are curious,

Why you don’t conform,

They know who you are,

Sat outside your home.

 

Here comes the japper napper,

japper nap,

Nap,

Nap,

Nap,

Nip,

Nap,

Nap.

 

Here the truth hurts,

Speaking it hurts even more,

You went too far,

Whatever for?

After all the ways,

They tried to keep you alive,

The water we drink,

The air we breathe,

Selected news stories,

On your Facebook feed,

We clouded the internet,

Sponsored by Google,

Blacked out certain arguments,

That was too hard to digest,

Force fed biodegradable words,

We didn’t mean to make a mess,

Of your dreams.

 

The future was never yours,

Just a puppet on a string,

We allowed you certain allowances,

As long as you didn’t fuck the system,

Now it’s time,

To pay for your crimes,

We have the secret police,

Sifting through your chronology,

Of your life,

You are the one that got away,

That is until today.

 

Release the yapper napper,

Yapper nap,

Nap,

Nap,

Nap,

Nip, nap

Snip, snap,

Nap,

Nap.

 

When you are cut down to size,

As you were the enemy in their eyes,

What you say will eventually go away,

Books will burn and files erased,

Words forgotten as memories fade,

Dead to the world and without a grave,

Maybe a conspiracy never to be resolved,

Dead to the world you never became old,

The truth cannot live in a body bag,

Happily ever after is such a drag.

 

When the censors come after you,

They got twitchy when you got big,

They felt you was a little too close to the truth,

Even though you had no proof,

The cut the problem off at the roots,

They set free the japper napper,

Just like they did before,

When the truth is too fucking raw,

Bury the truth without religious ceremony,

And poetry will be the death of me.

 

You went too far,

They knew who you were,

You was erased and banished,

Like a shit stain that vanished,

So everyone can continue to live their lies,

Don’t care about who lives or dies,

Just so long as you leave me be,

I will continue to watch the lies and shit on TV,

Just don’t send the japper napper after me,

I will be a good citizen,

Really,

Truly,

Eventually,

Sorry,

 

Japper Napper!

Watching!

I was watching you grow,

I was watching you cry,

I was watching you fall,

I was watching you die,

You are the cradle of humanity,

You have been left with no dignity,

You are the life of all that lives,

We was watching you shiver,

I was watching you all the time,

We was watching you for the last time,

We was watching the burnt out sky,

We were watching you die!

 

You were everything to me,

When life went wrong for humanity,

You were the life between our toes,

How we can continue, no one knows,

We was too busy watching you disappear,

We was too busy watching to have some fear,

Watching and waiting and don’t doing much,

Living our lives we were so out of touch!

 

We did not have any respect and didn’t cry,

We were all stood idle watching you die.

Watching and waiting and being lazy,

Watching the world go totally crazy,

Watching the days fade into the night,

Watching the shadows and not feeling alright.

 

So many things to believe,

So many things to deceive,

So many things corrupt by the human touch,

So many things to receive,

Watching the on comer, come and go,

Watching the streetlights flicker,

Watching the world collapse into darkness,

Watching the candle burn out quicker,

So many things to see and do,

But we only remember when time is lost,

So many ways that could have been,

We were watching the wrong way!

Palm.

On the one hand we have a question,

On the other a dilemma,

Sweat trickles through my pours,

Sticky palms, clap together,

We had the answer near,

I am sure that we did,

The solution close to our touch,

But it never crossed our palms.

 

Leaves in the wind swaying,

In the almost spring like sun,

Palm trees planted to be exotic,

The worst kind of pun,

Thinking out loud in time and space,

Deciphering the lines on our palms,

Looking for love and the life line,

Hoping we can be saved one by one.

 

We got greedy most of the time,

When a portion would do,

We empty the bottle of lotion,

In our palms sticky with guilt,

We only tried to put the wheels in motion,

Delicate palm traveling through life,

Picking up scars like stray cats,

Splinters of wood hide between your pores,

Causing pain, open sores.

 

As the salt and the rain corrode,

The once soft and delicate features,

After working for forty years in a factory,

Your palms are as delicate as sandpaper,

Imagine a delicate palm like a delicate soul,

How many years would pass?

Before the pain and misery takes its toll.

 

Walking barefoot on jagged glass,

Every little image sucked in by the eye,

Translated and dissected by the brain,

Wanting to know more as you come closer,

Stored in blocks the memory remains,

Finger prints are left behind,

The palm had no idea of their betrayal,

A breadcrumb trail of misery,

When the evidence always snares you.

 

Palm into palm you pray for the world,

Grasping hard, trying to erase all the hate,

But joining hands in a desecrated church,

Humanity has gone, it’s too late!

As we build walls around us with broken hands,

Our palms are no longer what the use to be,

Cracked and torn and full of disease,

Our palms hold on to our future,

Like a fireman’s pole so slippery,

Our palms try to hold on to what is,

But slowly and surely we slide down,

No time for opinion or reflection,

Our palms held us high,

Our palms hide us when we cry,

Our palms the secrets and sins,

Of everything that always begins.

Burnt Love.

I stand so cold and alone,

On a deserted road in Rome,

My eyes are tired from the tears,

My tears I cried for you,

But not for the love or desperation,

Not because I long to be near,

Because you killed me brutally

I should not even be here,

Why did you burn me?

 

Were the arguments not enough?

I expected violence some tears,

I could have expected some scratches,

Some mental scars,

I loved you once,

I did not expect all this mess,

The end of a story,

Always brings tears and sadness,

But not like this.

 

I wanted to move on without you,

Why did you not accept my idea?

I was only twenty two, so young,

You was everything I feared,

At this age I have the right to have fun,

Just another student who loved music and dance,

Do you realise what you have done?

 

To follow me like a stalker,

To watch my every step,

Watching in the distance,

As I talked to my friends,

Jealously you watched as I chatted,

With some of my male friends too,

But that did not give you the right,

To use the violence inside of you.

 

Everybody knew that you was devastated,

My friends knew you had a screw loose,

They were concerned for my well-being,

But nobody expected what transpired,

I stand here at number 1090,

Via della Magliana, Roma,

They have taken my car away,

I watched my mother come and go,

How I will miss her so.

 

Nobody stopped to help me,

They said it was none of their business,

I hope my soul burns their memories,

All you had to do was phone for help,

In the end I am just another victim,

In an ever increasing violent world,

So many women killed needlessly,

From jealousy, from envy from desperation.

 

How did it come to this?

You loved me with every kiss,

You turned into a monster,

You strangled me and set me alight,

Left me to die alone,

On a lonely road in the dead of the night.

 

 

Dedicated to Sara Di Pietrantonio

All Together.

Words sometimes are never enough,

Days after the tears,

Weeks after the pain,

Memories come back again,

 

Words like gone too soon,

So unlucky in love,

He did not deserve to die,

Not in that terrible way,

 

He left behind a lot of people,

Artists and musicians, friends,

They all pulled themselves together,

Made something out of the misery,

 

A day full of hope and joy,

Children painting and dancing,

Hula-hoops twisting, vinyl discs too,

Town market square full of life,

 

Surrounded by greenery and colours,

Dancing artists all in the name of fun,

All for the memory of Manuel,

Hands clapping in unison,

 

The weather was not at its best,

But the rain did not come to spoil,

The crowd stayed out very late,

Burning the midnight oil,

 

The pizza houses were busy,

As well as all of the restaurants here,

Taking a break to eat some food,

Soon it would be time for beer,

 

As the music poured from the stage,

Reggae music caressed the crowd,

We all clapped and cheered for Manuel,

Like the music we were very loud,

 

We sat near to Manuel’s parents,

Who seemed to enjoy the party,

Everybody came over to hug them,

There was not a dry eye in the house.

 

Daniele was sipping on a mojito,

Saying it was not as good as Manuel’s,

Just at that moment he spilt his drink,

On himself, maybe it was Manuel’s doing!

 

Daniele continued to describe his friend,

He was the icon of the piazza,

Everybody talked about his life,

That had no happily ever after,

 

T-shirts were bought in his name,

We drank to celebrate his life,

The air turned cold but we all stayed,

Wearing scarves at the end of May,

 

The music continued we don’t know how,

A three hour marathon of song,

Everybody was dancing in the street,

Everybody joined in, we could do no wrong,

 

The community was brought together,

Different races and different smiles,

Different cultures mixing with art,

It was a great night out on the tiles,

 

To be part of such an event,

To be part of this circle of people,

This is humanity and love for one another,

We raise our glass, we salute you Manuel!

 

Dedicated to Manuel Sanges

Dawn.

At the beginning of a new dawn,

It dawned on me that something,

New and old and other things foretold,

Got me in a spin like a whirlpool deluxe,

I felt spiders climb up my spine,

I felt emotions so divine,

I felt giddy from the new wave of fresh air,

I felt tremendous and so I was there.

 

On the night that became dawn,

The circle turned around again,

New beginnings on a new day,

Dawn of the sun and my want away soul,

Clouds they try to hide the sun,

But I can see through their mist,

The warmth coming into this day,

The day starts with an innocent kiss.

 

Where doubts are stored in disarray,

All the problems of the world on shoulders,

That is too delicate and fragile,

To hold on to all your dreams,

But the sight of a dawn on another day,

Makes things seem all worthwhile,

You have survived another night,

Like a tramp sleeping in fresh hay,

You stink like shit but feel alright.

 

Before the memories return,

Before you get too far ahead,

Before all the fear returns,

You must get yourself out of bed,

Rise above and struggle on,

As you did and now do,

Because everyone is in the same boat,

No use in feeling so blue.

 

As the warmth of the day caresses your soul,

You feel the delicate sand between your toes,

It is time for something to eat and drink,

Something to feed your ego,

Looking across the mirror like ocean,

Shinier than expected, cool and wanting,

Reflecting back the sky without clouds,

Not even the fish want to ruin this moment.

 

There are no bubbles or ripples on show,

Even the tide is going out, heading back,

Showing the world the clean again sand,

No footprints no cigarette butts no feathers,

Soon pollution will come from man and dog,

Little paws kicking up and away the sand,

As the man takes a dump in the sand dunes,

Covering up and silently blaming the shocked dog.

 

With dawn comes a new way with old ideas,

Man has become lazy too late for tears,

What could be done today will be done tomorrow,

Tomorrow we will have too much to do,

So we postpone it over and over and over again,

So we have a mountain instead of molehill,

But we never will take the blame.

 

Out of control wisps of wind,

Suddenly dancing on the beach before me,

Sending sand into the joggers and yoga fanatics,

Strangely wide awake and clear eyes,

On my canvas it comes together a painting,

As protagonists enter from stage right and left,

To cool to be nude and too hot to be covered,

The world awakes with splatter of confusion.

 

Soon nude girls will lie half naked on their towels,

Dreaming of Italian models in the shower,

Maybe they will forget they are topless,

As they jump up when the seagull shits on her,

As the cheers die down from the unexpected spectacle,

We realise this cheerleaders name is worryingly,

Wrong, she is called Dawn!

Gain.

Of all the years,

I have watched you,

Waited for you,

In the shadows,

Dark and deep,

Those pockets of nothingness,

That caressed you nevertheless,

Projected by you,

Nothing but you,

All coming from you,

And your pathetic soul.

 

So why all the pain?

Why are we here again?

Something’s never change,

Sometimes we have nothing to

Gain!

 

We was headstrong once,

Before the headaches bit back,

We had a little heart once,

Until we had a heart attack,

And now the paranoia,

Twisting through gritty veins,

The venom is boiling hot,

And we have nothing to gain,

 

We worshipped what we once were,

We was guilty of being young and free,

But life put the shackles on the crawling baby,

And pushed its pram towards insanity,

With its growing pains and teething problems,

Those dirty reusable, smelly oversized nappies,

We forgot to love ourselves through a broken mirror,

And you ask why we never look happy?

 

So why are we so insane?

Why are we here again?

We are headline news,

Hanging from a noose,

A government gun pointing at our head,

We was born and certified dead,

Something’s never change,

Now you know why we have nothing to,

Gain!

 

You can condemn me to death you sad motherfucker,

Just don’t walk in my shoes or down my lonely path,

Because you don’t realise what life is until it hits you

Right between your stupid, unseeing eyes!

You promised me the world,

And destroyed my life,

We are back in a long line to be dealt some pain,

You wonder why we have nothing left to loose,

Because all things never change,

When you have nothing to gain,

 

Of all the years I was watching you,

The mirror shattered years ago,

With the first punch I ever used,

I was already dead,

Just another sick statistic,

Just another stain on your ward,

Another bed sheet to burn,

Another corpse to cremate,

I’ve been watching you,

I’ve been screaming your name,

But silence is harder than frozen water,

And I have nothing left to gain,

 

The ones alive are not really living,

They are sedated in bed,

Into which they are shitting,

Excrement overflowing from the bed pan

And the government flies are all over the place,

They are leading you along,

As you live out a lie,

The so called human race,

Do you ever ask why?

We are a military target,

Ready to be shot down,

Just pray to yourself,

That a zombie holocaust will hit this town!

 

So why all the pain?

Why are we here again?

Something’s never change,

Sometimes we have nothing to

Gain

We are all headline news,

For twenty seconds of a day,

Until something else happens,

And we all get in the way,

When you have money to burn,

You don’t really have to learn,

About all of the sick reality,

But when you are down in the dumps,

Living at the bottom of the pile,

You are just coffin fodder,

Decomposing would take a while,

When nothing else would be plain,

What do you have to gain?

Paint.

All this makes me want to hide,

Going to put on some face paint,

Urban Camouflage,

But it there is no paint factory,

In the city centre no more,

Leyland has become a sleeper town,

We all follow trends,

Until there is no end.

 

We are talking about trending topics,

Twittering away as if there was nothing,

Truly, worth the while to say,

All this makes me want to hide,

Going to put on some face paint,

Going to scare you shitless,

Going to stand out of the crowd.

 

The best way to hide is to be in full View,

Something hideous and different,

Just to torment you,

What is not pleasing to the eye,

Is something you don’t want to hear?

You push me away, unfriend me,

Unplug me, debug me.

 

All this wants to make me hide,

Going to put on some war paint,

I’m coming at you like a high speed tractor,

It is never going to be pretty, mate,

Can’t you feel the lies in your bones?

Talking shit just beating your phone,

Hiding behind a screen.

 

The enemy in you,

Being so high-rise we need a demolition crew,

An eyesore is so uncool,

Dress It Up with hearsay,

Spray it up with venomous perfume,

It looks the part but it is a ticking time bomb,

Why don’t you just say what you feel?

The truth is worth more than a million lies.

 

You’ve turned your soul and reputation,

Into something more hideous than Frankenstein,

All these points make me to hide,

In a disused factory that was Leyland paints,

Watching them pull the warehouse apart,

So easily,

Too easily,

To destroy,

To erase,

Gone in a Flash,

After all these days.

 

A reputation is a bit like Rome,

It cannot be built in a day,

But when you start throwing shit around,

It won’t be long until you start to pay,

As the smell becomes unbearable,

The lies turn people away,

Soon your streets and gangways empty,

You will live out lonely days.

 

Speak the truth,

Tell no lies,

Unshackle those chains,

Those things that hold you,

Puppeteers invisible pull at you,

Twist you to a different view,

So tear away those strings perverse,

Do what you always wanted to do,

Paint over the lies,

Paint over the stupidity,

Paint a different picture,

Paint a different day,

Paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint!

Razor ride.

I had a dream last night,

Thought I was so alive,

I was internally happy,

Found myself in one piece,

I had no reason to hide,

I had no reason to die,

It was not the usual razor ride,.

 

As I woke up I didn’t belong,

To that sweet dream no more,

Waking up hung over and sick,

With my life-long possessions on the floor,

The only way up is on a greasy slide,

So high up and full of broken bottles,

No one around to give me a lift,

No way to see how I can kick this shit.

 

My dream it lied,

This is the razor ride,

This is my worth now,

Nothing to you,

Nothing to me,

A sad sack of affairs,

Don’t you agree?

 

Sliding down a fireman’s pole,

Protected with barbed wire,

As I’m slashed on the way down,

I found myself in a barrel of fire,

All things burn in the end,

Rotten to the core like me,

As I am in engulfed with heated souls,

Waiting for death to sit on me,

I feel more burnt on the inside,

Than any flames can do from the outside,

I’m as hollow as a shell without the egg,

I need to be taken down another peg,.

 

Living nervously,

Sharing it with paranoia,

Shaking violently,

Collective demonia,

Will I retire?

I could be a liar,

Smoking up dreams,

On the razor wire.

 

It all don’t add up to anything,

What is right and gruesomely wrong?

The downward spiral my crucifix,

You knew it all along,

Razor wire,

Razor ride,

Razor teeth,

Razor beneath,

 

My feet,

As I tip toe here and there,

Getting caught between the cracks,

Getting tangled up in my own hair,

Hard to see, to face the day,

Not sure if there is another way,

Got to go and find some pride,

Got to put a stop to this razor ride,.

 

I said it once,

I said it before,

I go down and personal,

And I felt so raw,

I try to push and I tried to pull,

But I slipped on my ass, oh so cruel,

Trying to hit the buffers,

On this razor ride,

Trying to reconnect the brakes,

On this razor ride,

Trying to smash through the emergency exit,

On this razor ride,

All my ideas Returned to Sender,

On this razor ride.

 

Now I’m going faster than ever before,

Scenery has changed to desolate,

Images decaying fortune too,

Time is an enemy, I’m so desperate,

For this ride to stop,

For this ride to halt,

For lightning to strike,

And give me a jolt,

Some high voltage, human supreme,

This is the thing of sweet dreams,

Sending me over and sending me away,

To live and fight yet another day,

To have another dream at night,

Hiding the fears, darkness at light,

To find myself by my side,

Fed by adrenaline, for my razor ride.

Sit-up in Fright.

It’s gone way past midnight,

Sit-up in fright,

And not from won’t you ate last night,

Sit-up in fright,

As you remember all the rumblings,

That entered your head,

During that day,

Pushing you this and that way,

Did you digest all the lies?

That you were fed,

They painted a picture for a Brave New World,

We would only have to wave the magic wand,

They would be more honest than ever before,

They will make it better,

Can’t you understand?

 

Sit-up in fright,

At the horror story that is his politics,

All these lies.

Enough to make the bravest man sick,

He then promises you a future of dreams,

All we need is just one vote,

But after the election is over,

There are no signs of the promises,

The roads are in ruins like everything else,

There is no money to collect the trash,

All taxpayers’ money disappears,

Got to pay back the mafia for funding them.

 

Sit-up in fright,

Way past midnight,

Listening to the infrastructure fail,

A total collapse of the economy,

No water in the pipes to cleanse me,

From all the shit thrown at me,

As we all walk to work,

As all the buses have broken down,

All your promises need hospital treatment,

Even though there are no doctors in this town.

 

Sit up in fright,

Way past midnight,

Artificial flavours in the fridge,

Zombified fruit that lasts a lifetime,

Vitamins don’t knock on your day,

You rattle with all the antidepressants,

You took,

You shake,

After midnight,

Sit-up in Fright.

 

As the pills wear off,

And your brain comes alive,

Finally you begin to see,

All the shit and stupidity,

Before your eyes,

You sit-up in Fright,

After midnight,

Vomiting your last dreams,

Withdrawing from your last hopes,

Lies they are getting fatter,

We are all in this sinking boat.

 

You sit-up in fright,

Just before Election Day,

Your lies choke you,

But you only know this way,

You could be PD or PDL,

But if you did become mayor,

Our lives would be hell,

But you now retire from the scene

But it still does not stop you,

From being a snake and obscene,

You worse than those late night repeats,

Of American sitcoms from 1974,

That we all know now, off by heart,

We still laugh at the hideous score.

 

And you are still blowing your own trumpet,

We are all wiping away our tears,

The good mayor eventually won, lucky us,

Now we are dancing to the correct fanfare.

Late last night,

Everything went alright.

We voted for the truth,

We had a fright,

When in the first round,

It was a close call,

But from the second round,

We voted for the right man,

No more lies,

No more frights,

The seaside population,

Can sleep at night,

As they clean the town squares,

Peace is everywhere,

We thank our lucky

Five stars.

Chocolate Buttercup.

Some things don’t feel right,

Some things don’t sound solid at all,

Proof that everything is all wrong,

We all knew it all along,

You package yourself as additive free,

But you’ve got a soul like shit,

A maggot infested heart of lies,

That somehow keeps pumping you on.

 

Just like a chocolate buttercup,

Under the warm sun in spring,

When all around you is life and birth,

You don’t belong, you’re nothing,

Don’t belong here you are a blot on the landscape,

Undesirable nipping, teasing, virus, mutant,

You look so pretty and colourful,

But you are nothing more than a total runt,

You don’t know how to speak or have an idea,

Being different and radical is your greatest fear,

You wear your clothes two sizes too small,

You look like a butchered rabbit ready to be gutted,

Put her out of her misery.

 

Just like a chocolate buttercup,

You don’t belong out under the sunshine,

Your sugary sweet petals will melt,

Nothing will become of you,

I’m not dealing out miracles,

I’m not here for your protection,

I’m suggesting you move along now,

You are too much of an imperfection,

I’m not saying you have no beauty,

I’m just saying your mouth is a sewer,

No one wants to lick the dirtiest toilet in Preston,

No one wants an old tart, that’s for sure.

 

You can drink more than me,

That don’t sound to pretty,

You might eat all of that steak,

But that could be your last mistake,

You don’t have to fight back,

You don’t have to show who is superior,

Do you own thing back down and away,

Take a good look at yourself in the mirror,

Just like a chocolate buttercup,

You might not belong here and there,

Change your fucking attitude,

Don’t dress to please,

You are not sixteen anymore,

No one wants to see your ass hanging out,

Or your chunky, carpet burnt knees.

 

Buttercup be my chocolate,

Sugar be my honey,

Come over and read my book,

Be my rose and my flower,

Be my queen in my darkest hour.

Plan out the Planet.

 

We had an idea,

But there was no profit in it,

So we destroyed all out paths,

We didn’t plan out the planet,

We thought it was good,

We saw a new day,

We took the workers out of the factory,

So they had no one left to pay.

 

We saw a social demise,

As we had nowhere to go,

It happened right before our eyes,

The economy became a yo-yo,

The cheapest fuel to burn was coal,

We dug holes in our lovely countryside,

We tunnelled like rats on speed,

We burnt the fuel made another hole,

In the sky the sun shined through,

Burnt our asses and our hair.

 

Now the planet has no more glaciers,

Wouldn’t it have been better if,

We had a common purpose,

A common idea to move forward,

Without killing our neighbours with acid rain,

Tumours growing like toadstools after a storm,

Seas rising and flooding our homes,

We need a simple roadmap for prosperity,

But we didn’t plan out the planet.

 

When the sonic boom scared us away,

Bonking with the teacher in freshly cut hay,

Animal instincts just like in the dark ages,

Lord of the manor, death of a nation,

Slavery is coming back over like a dark cloud,

Fear of failure, so we’re worked to the bone,

Fascist and Nazi ideas in the workplace,

A vicious circle, teeth biting whipwap.

 

No one listens to you,

No one has mapped this out,

When there is no profit in it,

We don’t plan it all out,

We left you alone,

We left you out,

And the sum of all our mistakes,

The total of all our racist ideas,

We failed to plan out the planet,

We are reaching the end of days.

 

We are just maggots in a discarded body,

Left to rot alone in an abandoned hospital,

In an abandoned system, a forgot life,

When drugs seemed like a good escape,

I just needed to get away for a while,

The itch became a scratch,

The scratch became an addiction,

An infected needle sealed your fate,

Did you plan this?

 

It is the sum of all our mistakes,

You just wanted to be something special,

Before you knew it you was in hell,

A debt a burden and a disease you couldn’t cure,

Swept under the carpet with the cockroaches,

The system wanted rid of that very carpet,

So they bombed down and blew up,

The whole fucking neighbourhood,

Then they blamed it on the others,

Maybe on the ethnic minority,

They called it a riot against white supremacy,

Called it the result of the people’s anarchy.

 

They are only good at planning out,

The demise of you, all things negative,

Corruption, mafia and paedophilia,

While the planet dies,

They are only looking into their pockets,

Planning other ways to fuck you over,

Telling the world we should pay more taxes,

We have missiles to buy,

With your hard earned money,

We’re going to aim them back at you,

When you complain your eggs are too runny.

 

What does it take to,

Plan everything out?

Stop nuclear? Stop burning coal?

So plan out the planet,

Plan out your dreams,

Turn over a new page,

Before it’s too late,

Stop planning urban destruction,

Because the communists are pecking your ass,

Do something positive,

Something great that will last,

Alternative fuels,

Healthy schools,

Less concrete and more green,

More freedom, less rules,

Fewer bullets, less zoos,

Nothing happens if you don’t plan it,

Only then can we save the planet.

Finishing it off.

When I have painted words,

When’ve touched up the blots,

On my landscape portrait,

Of the burning planet,

Finishing it off is hard to do,

It is like I’m breaking up with you,

I don’t want it to ever end,

Even though I drive you around the bend.

 

When the world is full of stories,

That needs to be said, need to be underlined,

Because the world is so full of lies,

Someone has to tell the truth,

Even it hurts so much,

Justice needs to be done,

Victims should never be forgotten,

We should celebrate the deceased.

 

Hopefully not making the same mistake,

I’m the sum of all my parts,

You could say I’m totally crazy,

Could you ever say, enough is enough?

Should I be finishing it off?

 

Sometimes the words don’t,

Come out right,

Sometimes I forget,

I need to write,

Sometimes I just want you,

All to smile,

But then the news comes on,

Takes that smile away.

 

I want to be a mirror,

That you can trust,

That you will treat with respect,

I don’t want to reflect the wrong image,

I want the truth and no cracks,

No one wants seven years bad luck,

So I paint some more words,

So I keep pushing my luck.

 

You can’t have fun anymore,

A concert is a terrorist arena,

And the hooligans are alive,

Back from the dead like some zombie,

Attack from the craziest film of the ‘80s,

And even there the censors they tried,

Finishing it off.

 

We have censorship on one hand,

We have people, who don’t care on the other,

The news comes through like a Disney film,

To read a paper, ask permission from your mother,

Try to write the truth,

And no one wants to hear,

Facebook will cancel your post,

Twitter will delete your account,

The world needs to stand up,

Against this media blackout.

 

Do you all believe what you hear?

Does the world events seem so clear?

Has the world cried enough is enough?

Would you be happy finishing it off?

 

Blah, blah, blah,

Tell me how you are,

Don’t tell me what you think,

Thinking is for fools,

The idiots that don’t conform,

The people who won’t lie down,

Accept their fate,

That the government is not their friend,

They are intent on,

Finishing you off,

Your dreams,

Finished off,

Your memories,

Deleted.

Nothing to you.

What I write,

What I say

Could be all Greek to you,

Could be Italian,

Vulcan,

Martian,

It could mean nothing to you.

 

I don’t write anything that could not be,

I don’t write anything that isn’t me,

Free to write, free to say,

Che cazzo, what the fuck.

 

Just another poem,

Just pushing my luck,

There are lots of people,

Who don’t like poetry,

There is a small majority,

Who like a verse or two,

Some people despise my work,

Because it means nothing to you.

 

I read something that means something to me,

It could be actuality or some history,

It could be something positive or negative,

But it could mean nothing to you,

I would not say it was my philosophy,

But it would mean something to me,

It is my obligation to write,

To reflect the truth back at you.

 

Maybe it is difficult to understand,

The way I write out loud,

Words on paper don’t look so proud,

Unless you smell the blood,

Feel the torture,

See the future becoming bleak,

Watch as we fall into hot water,

Deeper as the water corrodes your sandals,

Toenails fade away,

Violet ten times over,

Maybe this means something to you?

 

What I write could be torture,

What I say maybe not cohesive,

My imagination shot up with frustration,

Just means nothing to you,

Just a past time,

Just a quick fix,

Just a one night stand,

A substitute for Weetabix.

 

You want to see what a word’s worth,

You prefer poetry from history,

You want to criticize my work,

That’s cool, that’s ok with me,

Che cazzo, does not mean much,

Don’t get me wrong, it’s ok,

I will continue writing, flirting with my mind,

Is it nothing to you?

Is it the right way?

 

I’m just sprinkling seeds,

Come and see the garden grow,

Genuine vegetables and tasty fruit,

I will show you the way to go,

Digest the vitamins fresh,

Feel the natural additives combine,

Feel your body grow pure,

Grow with my crops divine.

 

Making you a better person,

Making you question the world,

Not taking anything for granted,

Hope that is something for you,

When you have tasted the truth,

Juicy sweet erotic shot,

Vitamins and you crave for more,

Wanting more than before.

 

Take me for what I am,

A messenger,

A truth relayer,

A courier pigeon,

If this means nothing to you,

Then I have nothing more to say.

 

Flavour of the Month.

Syrup,

Looks good to eat,

Sugary sweet,

You will regret it,

Spreading it over,

And under some bread,

The knife,

Sticky handle,

Bread crumbs,

In the syrup jar,

All that hard work,

To cover every inch,

Snack gone in a second,

Sticky fingers forever,

It’s your flavour of the month.

 

It was homemade,

Strawberry jam,

With real chunks of fruit,

Too much sugar,

From the loving hands,

Of your grandmother,

It was the flavour of the month,

When you was young,

You ate peanut butter,

Crunchy nutty kind,

By the spoonful.

 

I was the flavour of the month,

When you use to have a crush,

On the English,

On the diabolic,

The strange and quiet,

Mildly chaotic,

How quickly it fades,

Like the smell of a new book,

When we get what we want,

The newness quickly wears thin,

Just like some ripe fruit,

Suddenly turns to mush,

The supermarket fooled you again,

Worthless mould in your fridge.

 

The flavour of the month,

Change of music, change of scene,

Depression comes and goes,

Like the full moon dominates,

Over the well-being of a human being,

Complicated and dehydrated,

Needing to drink from the water of life,

The syrup has turned into glue,

Joined at the hip with your fate.

You can’t shake it off,

You can’t shake your ass,

You just have to get over it,

Just like your flavour of the month.

Social Soup.

It is hard to understand,

What has become of the man?

The warrior and blood thirsty soldier,

The hunter and the pioneer,

The animal in the beast,

The beast before your eyes,

The saviour of worlds,

Where peace never lies,

With a simple phone in his hand,

His brain cells were fried,

The fearless and loving,

Now with nothing inside.

 

Once the main stay of the family group,

The main ingredient of the social soup,

Is nothing more but a slave,

To the worlds new technology,

As we sit in schools that are empty,

Because most of the kids are elsewhere,

Some kids are chasing invisible Pokémon,

The others are plotting your massacre.

 

The lines have become blurred,

We don’t know where we stand anymore,

The social outcast has become the trend,

The rich daddy’s girl now the whore,

When the drugs and drink make you think,

We see a death defying drunken decline,

In this world of apathy and anarchy,

What happened to this world of mine?

 

Once upon time there was a social soup,

A fine blend of different ingredients,

That ended up complimenting one another,

That little bit of spicy that little bit of mild,

The vitamins do you good, pepper so wild,

But the soup has become an antique,

Just a memory from the past,

It is all fast food and fast fucks,

Relationships never last.

 

This is the culture of use it and lose it,

There are no attachments no romance,

No quick kiss at the high school dance,

We have applications to find another half,

We have ways to dispose of them afterwards,

On to the next one in another town,

Covering your tracks and watching your backs,

We have all gone socially insane,

Sentiment will not be found again.

 

Golden anniversaries a demon in the past,

We all want a taste of living fast.

Music used to be so hard to conquer,

It took years of gigs to get a following,

Now in the time of digital marketing,

It takes an hour to get to the same level,

An idea and a social push,

And you get bigger not better than Rush.

 

It is all plastic and so temporary,

Leaving not a single scar on your memory,

The whole world is going crazy,

So much violence so much lack of culture,

Knowledge is something like Wikipedia,

Wisdom is from the Wizard of Oz,

The once proud social soup has evaporated,

Nothing is how it once was.

4TFUCKING4

Did not 4see this,

I had nothing to live 4,

B4 everything was vulgar,

B4 I got so fucking old,

Bring 4th all the memories,

Remind me where I’ve been,

4 I seem to be losing my way,

Let us start a fresh again,

 

4Tfucking 4

 

I almost remember being 16,

I started going to work,

I was drunk and fucked up by 18,

Just another English jerk,

I thought it was good to be bad,

I thought it was cool to be drunk,

But 4 all the bullshit I did,

I am still a part of that ill-advised punk,

 

4Tfucking4

 

Sometimes I wished myself to death,

And drank my weekend away,

But somehow and some way I’m here,

I guess I’m here to stay,

4 all the vices I’ve touched,

And all of the sin I’ve tasted,

I’ve grown stronger in the end,

All the shit in the end wasn’t wasted,

 

I thought 4 a long time,

I did not think I would live until,

4Tfucking4

But here I am writing again,

Just in poetry and all 4 you.

 

It has been a long and winding road,

I have seen plenty of fruit fall to the ground,

Watched them rot away to nothing,

And saw them grow once more.

 

It’s a strange and wicked circle,

Non-stop it keeps coming around,

Arriving now at 4Tfucking 4,

I still have my feet on the ground,

 

I think of what I have done,

Then think of what I’ve become,

This makes me so bitter and twisted,

Maybe that is why I’m not much fun.

 

Tired of saying the same old things,

Maybe you have heard it all B4,

But I’m a boulder sat over a treasure cave,

I’m the banana skin on the floor.

 

The more I wait the more I hurt,

The more I resent myself,

And worse in time I can’t get in line,

Waiting for someone to pull the plug.

 

At 4Tfucking4

 

I’ve said it again,

I’ll say it some more,

I can’t seem to realize,

What it means to be alive,

But here I am and fucked up,

And right before your beautiful eyes

@4Tfucking4

Pocket of Resistance.

Went out and bought some new slacks,

Because what I have,

Can’t be used no more,

I’ve become thick in the thigh,

And a pain in the ass,

My pockets weren’t big enough,

For all the resistance I had to hide.

 

I wasn’t born in this territory,

But that doesn’t have to mean,

You can take it away from me,

I’m without a religion,

And might be out of Europe too,

But Italy doesn’t just belong to you.

 

Berlusconi left behind a mess,

Corruption right to the core,

His right hand men,

And his pathetic whores,

Brought Italy down to its knees,

And closed its doors forever more,

They expect to be in power,

And voted for once again,

They didn’t see the end of the tunnel,

Couldn’t see their popularity wane.

 

While most of the population,

Sticks to its rights,

And plays the same old ball game,

Of being on the left or on the right,

They forgot to see,

That poor Italy,

Has been stripped nude,

And shot to ruins,

All the rules and laws,

Are modified to suit the Mafia,

Who buried their dead in cesspits,

That hosts the chemical weapons from Syria.

 

Just as long as you can look the other way,

They will burn your future day by day,

The tomatoes are growing in asbestos filled fields,

And they’ve lost count of how many people they’ve killed.

There are some growing signs,

From testosterone and sheer persistence,

Italy is dying in your arms,

But there are some pockets of resistance.

 

Public funding went astray,

And lined the pockets of politicians,

That is why all roads lead now to nowhere,

And why there are train crashes in Puglia,

The safety devices are not needed anymore,

When you have a swimming pool to build,

In a villa by the unpolluted sea,

So obvious not being built here in Italy.

 

We have pockets of resistance,

And artists who have been censored,

Great people from the South,

That tells you the truth from word of mouth.

 

In Italy you get paid to look the other way,

More dead in our streets every other working day,

But Caparezza and O’ Zulu keep on song,

and Il Parto delle Nuvole Pesanti.

They like to all sing a song,

They are our pockets of resistance,

They sing to show and make you know,

That Italy has nowhere else to go.

 

So with these pockets of resistance,

We will inhale the truth of the wind,

We will demand lifelong changes,

Only then can we win.

From the South,

We will build another nation,

Dignified and with pride,

Just like before,

The muscle and the sweat,

Of the population,

Once forgotten,

But never out of mind,

Just like they built before,

The first metro of Milan,

They will come from below,

They will build us a new foundation,

They will make our hearts glow,

The Calabrese, Pugliese,

Sardi, Siciliane and Napolitane.

 

These pockets of resistance,

Will grow into dreams of joy,

They will be free once again,

Artists from the Magna Graecia,

And we, the world,

Will finally give these people,

The credit that they deserve,

And in the dark dungeons of our past,

Will rot the dreams of corrupt politicians,

That tried to take all of the cream,

Those bastards tried to steal our dreams >

Berlusconi – Polverini

Alemanno – Lega Nord,

Forza Italia – Vaticano.

 

But Now,

Italia reunited from Tropea to Milano,

Pescara to Palermo,

Trieste to Bari

All wanting happily ever after,

All wanting peace and prosperity.

End of Days.

Knowing we have reached,

The end of days,

The terror and the horror,

Wins always,

Blood spilt in vain,

On beaches and fields,

Hate rises mightily,

Against our will,

Whatever we do,

Wherever we go,

The panic and the fear,

Will keep us in tow.

 

When daggers are shining,

Swords held high,

In a sickly explosion,

We are bound to die,

A clash of religion,

In a class of fools,

European cities,

Are classed as fools.

 

Fear of the day,

Fear of the night,

Fearing your neighbour,

Shortened sight,

In doubt we wade,

Up to our chins,

Blood boils inside,

Evaporating our sin.

 

When hungry for revenge,

Is all that is served at the table,

Warlords become rich,

Life is just a ramble,

Positive thinking,

Washed down the well,

Ambushed the innocents,

Sending them to hell.

 

Amputated limbs,

Mashed brains,

Guts unleashed,

Where it never rains,

End of days,

For another victim,

Washed away,

In a hail of bullets,

Not wanting to be,

In this fire fight,

Just wanted to live,

Another peaceful night.

 

Untold horrors,

Sickly heartless fiends,

End of days,

So obscene.

 

 

 

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favourite retailer?

 

Thanks!

 

Darren Hobson

 

About the author:

Darren Hobson was born in Preston, Lancashire in England and moved to Italy in 1998.Currently living near Rome working for a multinational company.

In his spare time he loves traveling to mainly Calabria in Italy and to Yorkshire in England, where both landscapes rich of history inspire him to write intense poetry.

The poet started submitting his work for inclusion in many anthologies between 1990 and 2009, but with the help of social network sites and self-publishing sites he started to publish his own books in 2014.

Connect with Me:

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/D_Hobson_Poet

My blog: http://darrenhobsonpoet.com/

Favourite me at Shakespir: www.Shakespir.com/profile/view/DarrenHobsonPoet

 


The Japper Napper.

This is the world we live in full of lies and conspiracies, nothing is what it seems, after reading papering over the cracks the reader can now see through the thin badly manufactured wallpaper that covers over the real truth. The story did not end there because if the reader decides to join in and demand the truth to be shown, the worlds governments would not be pleased, your words would be censored, your posts on your social media deleted and then if you insist on raising you voice and raising your fist, then it would be time to meet the Japper Napper! This book continues with the themes of the poet Darren Hobson, who asks the questions and insists the reader should be aware of what is really happening in this world, it is time for all of us to demand the truth only that way we can stand together united and face and defeat the Japper Napper.

  • ISBN: 9781370171842
  • Author: Darren Hobson
  • Published: 2016-08-01 13:50:09
  • Words: 8702
The Japper Napper. The Japper Napper.