The world through the eyes of a male domestic abuse victim, but its so much more than that !

Month: April, 2016

End of April


Tomorrow April becomes May

this poem marks the end

of my NaPoWoMo

to those that read the words I wrote

I give you thanks

and hopefully not headaches

to other poets

who took time to comment

I will get round to reading you work

now the dreaded deadline has expired

writing, reading and commenting

was like Arnhem

a bridge to far

also note

producing a good, deep, meaningful

poem every day for a month

is something I will never do

those that can, are best described as

fucking genius’s

my last thoughts are

theirs bread and cheese upon the shelf

if you want a better poem better write it yourself




What she never seen

what no abuser ever sees

was the commotion

in the 15 minutes before they arrive

the frantic effort

to make the house perfect



However those efforts

that effort will always be pointless

it is impossible

to present perfection

to a person that craves


in order to create chaos



I still scurry

before guests arrive

but it is driven by

personal pride, not fear

and you may enter

to find things out of place

because I am welcoming you

to my home

and my life

not a facade


That is what

contentment looks like

The Race

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Black moon in land of ice

adventurers it will entice

curiosity oft’ comes at a price

the cleft betwixt mountains twin

holds ancient knowledge deep within

and there the test will begin


Midnight race along darkened trail

of moonlight they can not avail

death comes quickly to those who fail

chasing beast their flesh would splice

adventures it will entice

to black moon in land of ice


Why ?

we ask why

as if the answer was not


the fake concern of society

is obvious


Australia, 6 men a day

42 a week

United Kingdom, 19 a day

133 a week


1 married man every 9 minutes

my head hurts calculating that

into a weekly tally

my heart hurts

at the devastation that causes


These figures dwarf

the road traffic fatalities

society tirelessly campaigns

for safer roads

teaches men not to speed

if these campaigns

were truly driven

by desire to preserve life

would those same people

not put a concerted effort

into teaching these men

not to kill themselves ?

as opposed to just asking

why ?


When the answer is obvious

the fake concern of society

is obvious


We teach boys to respect women

because they are valued

we teach boys to respect authority

because it is valued

we teach boys to respect animals

because they are valued


Nobody teaches boys

to respect themselves

the conclusion being

they are not valued


Perhaps if that changes

we will not have to ask


are these men killing themselves ?


Half way to justice

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The jury have spoken

the verdict returned

the slander and lies

have been overturned


For two years the inquest

examined the evidence

the outcome demands

there is now recompense


The people the city

who were vilified

have a hunger for justice

that can not be denied


This is not yet a victory

or time to rejoice

but to come together

and shout with one voice


Round up the guilty

every last one

put them in the dock

let justice be done


Those once so superior

are now hiding their face

knowing their future holds

the ultimate disgrace


Those that caused the disaster

those that hid their deceit

only with their convictions

will justice be complete


The Summit

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The waters at Mt Lycabettus

in so much as

any Greek water


they bring steaming coffee

seemingly oblivious

to the stunning vista

that spreads below their mountain perch


How could the view

not catch their attention

stop them dead

somewhere between

kitchen and table ?


a questioning mind

reaches the only logical conclusion

they had became accustomed

to its aha


to understand

why the view from the summit

is beautiful

you must first have lived

in the valley



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Your words and deeds

have a effect on those around you

like small stones

dropped in a ocean or lake

those stones

cause a ripple

or a wave

the thing to remember

is it is not the hight of the ripple

that is important

but the distance it travels

that alone

is the determining factor

of its affect.


The Cost of Kindness

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These beasts arrived from other world

wanton destruction has unfurled

every resource they did devour

those that survived now hide and cower

but it did not begin this way

that is the source of our dismay

they said they came with peace and need

that’s how the invasion did succeed

we welcomed them with open arms

blinded by our leaders charms

a new world they wished to create

they said we would all integrate

once the trumpet call had begun

these beasts all rose up as one

they took our walls from the inside

our only defence now is to hide

all we had built is now lost

that is what our leaders kindness cost

wanton destruction has unfurled

these beasts arrived from other world


The Face Scream

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The time has come to tell the truth

about the famed fountain of youth

that Oprah plugged being so aloof

or the “not tested on animals” tag you prize

or the new injection for under your eyes

so sit down here comes the big surprise


Its a multi million dollar industry

that tries to hide its methods from you and me

and the reason is not very hard to see

they take a baby boy at six days old

cut a bit off, then its sold

thats the genital mutilation story not being told


20 thousand nerve endings that will destroy

with no legal protection because he is a boy

and easy profit for hospitals to enjoy

one third of the penis skin hacked away

pharmaceutical companies egger to pay

anti cruelty protesters have nothing to say


So, I put it to you

that if you have a problem with cutting girls genital’s

or docking dogs tails

but have no strong feelings

about cutting boys genital’s

and profiting from that

it’s not cruelty you are interested in,

its girls and animals.

If the poem did not convince you, nothing I write here will. So I invite you to do your own research, and make your own conclusions. I will provide a few links to start this process, but please, look into this and join the debate.


It Counts (for NaPoWoMo)


I feel confused

a little bemused

it seems my thoughts

have all been used

I have nothing interesting

left to say

I might as well

call it a day


Well I could not call this a poem

could I ?


I need a total

system reboot

into my bed

I need to scoot

let sleep wave

it’s magic wand

and replenish

the intern thought pond

Creativity comes

in varied amounts

this poem has none

but it still fucking counts

i’ll see what comes out tomorrow

for it’s another day