House is on Fire and The Kids are Eating Ice Cream

R. Langton Thomas

Description

'Original and wholly absorbing, The Devil Gets Lonely Too proves nothing short of exceptional as Langton introduces us to his particular brand of eclectic prose.' - BookViralIn this sequel to his debut collection, Thomas R. Langton writes a contrasting collection about a heart burning with passion and renewed with life. Covering a wide variety of subjects, from social commentary to relationships to myths and legends, this book is dark poetry unlike any other.The beauty and hatred of the world is there for the taking in this melancholic, dark and downright gritty collection.

Sujets

• Poetry

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 01 août 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781838599805
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Also by Thomas R. Langton
*
The Devil Gets Lonely Too



Copyright © 2019 Thomas R. Langton

The moral right of the author has been asserted.


Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.


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ISBN 978 1838599 805

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.


Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

Shoot me up with dopamine
before the fire
takes me
Contents
Black Days – Blue Nights
Rainbows, Fairies, Farts & Hangovers
Cleopatra
Bacon, Beer, Boobs, & Bullets
Dear Death
Little Wolf
Neon – An Ode To Japan
Z
Smith
Same Old War
The Poet’s Fortune
A Cold Day In Hell
The Rabbit’s Heart Ticked
Dreams Of The Soul-Sick
Episodes In Euphoria
She’s A Beast
Songs For Death
One Night Stand
Sleep
The Spider’s Rose
3 am Poetry Blues
A Vampire Called Rain
Where’d You Learn To Write Poetry?
Nightmares At Noon
Roseanna Pt. 2
Spoon
Witches & Bitches
Odin Met Zeus
This Beautiful World
Grotesque
These Worthless Thoughts
All The Fallen Roses
Apocalypse On Sale
The Fist Fits
No. 9
Broken Wings
Lamb & Mutton
Immortal
Zombies
New-York Broadway Blues
Medieval Thoughts
The Bard’s Warning
Buckle Up
It’s All In Your Head
All You Angels
Chicken Legs
Dracula’s Coat
By The Cover
Droga Śmierci
What About He-Man?
To Bohemia – If You Please – Bohemian
We Weren’t All Heroes
Rapunzel
Cliché
The Last Revenant
Shedding Fire
Vampire Blues
Hotel In My Pocket
The Penguins Of Nazareth
Only Crows Remain – An Ode To Ireland
Magic
Pale Doll
Shush . . . Just Listen . . .
Poetry, For Poetry
The Light Costs Money
The Man From Camden
Light A Candle
Words Are Worthless
The Sound Of Rage
PeaceAGanda
Devils; V.3 (Plural)
Be The Night
Seasons
God’s Circus
Lzzy Hale
Just Another Girl
Blue Eyes
Set My Devils On Fire
Padre
A Reason
Is It Enough?
Romily Pt. 2
Grave
The World Goes By
Graži Mergina
The Stars Bleed With You
Apathy
I Didn’t Write This The Moonlight Did
Chasing Thorns
Arsonist’s Love Song
La Hermosa Dama
I Know Why Greeks Smash Plates
The Boy Who Ate The Wolf
Spare Parts
Temporary
This Could Be Atlantis
12th Story Window
Why’s My Heart Keep Going?
Blood Clots
15% For Lovecraft
Road To Avalon – An Ode To England
Flattery
A Love Story
My Sweet Nihilism
One Or The Other
Sundays After Chaos
Peter Pan Syndrome
What Makes A Man
Lie To Me
Punch Me – Slap Me – Love Me
Through Gritted Teeth
Rape In Paris
Sometimes You Gotta Live Before You Can Die
Memento Mori
Heaven Is A 2 Star Motel
Hard To Market
Wicker Man
Bonfire
Black Days – Blue Nights
Blue sky sets my eyes alight
Grey skies bury my head
I stroke the street light
Crowing with the crows
Hoping for something
Worth lifting my head for

Step off your cloud
Stand short – Crouch tall
To meet my gaze
Today’s another day in monotony

Seeking thrills in paying bills
This is life – A queue
Where too few stay true
Pushing & shoving
To reach the exit

Chasing tarmac
Dodging dog-shit
Stepping in gum
I wouldn’t mind

But it’s not even Monday
Fuck… it’s a Saturday
But it’s still grey

Life gets blue when you do
And nothing’s stopping the triviality

Damn…
Now it is Monday
Rainbows, Fairies, Farts & Hangovers
I woke up today with a hangover
Fell out of bed, & hit my head
My arm broke & the dragon on my desk
He said; ‘thou fool art late for thy death’

I said back to my hallucination;
‘I’ve been late my entire life’
‘What makes today any different?’

The dragon glared at me and bore his teeth
Then faded in a whirl of smoke

I thought nothing of it
So I got up and started my day
With a fart, morning wood, and an hour in front
Of the toilet throwing up last night’s beer
And curry

I got dressed, just about
Heading out to work
As I walked to the bus stop

I nearly got run over by a lorry
As the wind blew past me
A pigeon flew at me
& shit on my head
Laughing as it escaped my clutches

I got on the bus
Fell asleep
Then three gnomes appeared
Mugged me at knife-point
Taking all my gold
And the horse they rode in on
Slapped me

The bus came to a screeching halt
I banged my head on the chair in front of me
The driver called out; ‘all right everyone, off the bus!’
The damn thing broke down

I stumbled off the bus as the only passenger
But the driver made a fuss, making me queue
Behind the gnomes, the horse, the dragon
And the tall one at the front
Death

Now Death
As it seemed
Refused to get off the bus
Nobody had the strength to shift him
The gnomes tried and failed
The horse tried and fell ill
But the dragon laughed and blew fire at Death

The driver panicked as his bus caught fire
So I panicked and ran to get off the fiery inferno
Pushing past the driver, horse, dragon, & gnomes

I got past Death
Then I was dead

And the dragon said to me;
‘Thou fool art should have waited’

Damn, I thought
Maybe tomorrow will be better
After all, it is only a dream… at least

I hope it was
Cleopatra
She wears too much makeup
She’s got racoon eyes
A little too much eyeliner
Yak – Yak – Yak

People…
So bitchy and judgemental
Let me state for the record
The goths, the eccentrics
The wonderfully weird ladies
They are my vision

A true vision;
My Cleopatra
My Morticia, (Carolyn & Anjelica)
My Venus De Milo

Pale skin, black hair
Shapely eyes
Trim figure, & petite stature
Light & exquisite

Plum – Wonderful goddesses
They look like they devoured
A legion of souls
And yet are as charming, and beautiful
As the bitch with the pom-poms

Don’t you dare hassle
My Cleopatra
She’s shy, sly
And I wish she was mine

Cleopatra put the knife down
Take it from me
And give it to me
I could be
Your Mark Antony

Lay back with me
And watch the world burn
While our souls churn
Bacon, Beer, Boobs, & Bullets
What’s best in life?
Money? Love? Family?
Possessions? Memories?
Experiences? Sex? Sleep?

Pacifists argue that war is good for nothing
As a pessimist and a realist, I disagree
It’s good for profit – Death is profitable
At least it is to the assholes
Who sit atop our governments
Homelessness, world-hunger
Disease – Cancer
Human trafficking
We can charge for this
Turn a bit of misery
Into cash
Make the rich richer
And the poor even more
Sick of the system

Protest all you want
You optimistic hopefuls

The fat lizard-faced bankers
Still, count their pennies
The soldier goes out and
Rapes, maims, & kills

The rich get richer
And the poor
Spend another day
In front of their dying fire

Well, at least we can tide the time over
With the good stuff

While you wait:
Here’s something to distract you
-- Bacon, beer, boobs & bullets
It’s all that matters
-- Food, drugs, sex, & death
Hey, it really does sell

What arouses your senses the most
Is what keeps you getting out of bed

So, while you wait
I thought I’d be straight
Dear Death
– a letter
It’s been a while since we last spoke, seen, or heard from each other. You never visit anymore, and I ask myself when you’ll be around again. The nostalgia hit me today, when I witnessed a car crash, police had cautioned-off the area and erected a tent in your honour. No doubt you were working that day. You’re ever vigilant, even when the others don’t understand why you do what you do. I know you’re the only one who can, and for that, I’ll always be thankful. Even when tragedy strikes and nobody else can cope, you do, and for that, you have my unending and total affection.
Nobody seems to appreciate you anymore, I can’t say I blame them. But even in the darkest days, the direst of situations, for instance; the loss of a child, you come, and you reap. I feel a hole tear open in my chest when these things happen. But that pain is nothing to what you go through. Don’t think I don’t know, don’t you remember? When I was five, I saw you Death – Death incarnate. And you stood tall, with an arched back in silence over her. A sweet and innocent babe as you wept alongside her pare