Tag: poetry

Poetry

Cantina

Posted on by Cheal Off

Like most loud,
Entitled, fat people,
She thinks people like her
For speaking her mind,
And that no one deserves her respect until they earn it.

Thing is, why bother
When you’re an obese loudmouth.

No one wants to fuck you
And you’re proud to be rude until someone sucks you arse.

Personally, I keep my opinions to my poetry.

0
Poetry

Golf

Posted on by Cheal Off

The reason I hate golf
Is not merely the boredom
Or the requirement of status
And wealth;
The confidence to dress like a twat,
To impress twats.
No,
It’s the fact that golfers
Are so inept,
With regards to their own sport,
They cannot face playing it
In nature,
So instead they destroy nature,
Create a fabrication
And play on that.
Grow up,
Wear what you like,
Make your own clubs
Play in a field.

0
Poetry

Something from November 5th

Posted on by Cheal Off

I’ve realised today two things:

I have grown bored again

I am on autopilot.

I’m back to rushing through my days

Trying to stay inebriated 

So I don’t have to face

All my goals. 

Thoughts are always clearer

Once expressed through spelling

I am glad I have caught myself

Before I get caught up in bad habits

Again, I am going to call it a day

On smoking and drinking 

Not all that I do 

Fewer hours staring at screens

Unless it’s this one

For the trees need not suffer 

Because of my distraction.

Reasserting goals or analysing the way

Will not help,

All I need do

Is stay present. 

0
Poetry

The Lower Crust.

Posted on by Cheal Off

Now, when you hear this song,
I want you to do what it says,
Cos the worlds gone wrong
But I’m too afraid
Too do what I think needs to be done,
I’m not strong enough to be the chosen one.

I tell you:
If Tory scum do not believe
That strangers, to them, deserve reprieve,
As much as their relatives seem to do
When they screw up their lives,
Then well they haven’t go a clue.

I believe, and other socialists do,
That the lame and delayed and the sick matter too,
You’d care for your mother
You’d care for your son,
So don’t punish us Cameron, it’s sad that yours is gone.

Oh no, I’m sorry,
Was that a low blow?
Too bad,
I’m disabled and It’s pretty damn hard,
I use reapropriation,
Yeah, I’m calling you a retard,
It makes me feel better
I wouldn’t say good, I’m rebalancing the hatred,
Though I’m not sure that I should,
Maybe it’s just the weak
That band together
If you’re strong and tall and pretty and clever,
Maybe you don’t need the support of others,
Or maybe you all rely on each other,
Too
As much as us poor ugly people do,
But I have to say I doubt that very much;
Dogs eat dogs,
Sheep eat grass,
But with all of this pollution
Well how is that to last?

I’m not a communist,
Though I have to point it out,
It’s never been tried,
Every system is right,
Wing.

So when I sing,
I may sound quite red,
But I’m just suggesting,
we try something new instead.

I do not accept that the queen is better than me,
That reptiles’ got no authority,
There’s no such thing as illuminati,
The banks are in charge and that’s a fact,
for all to see.

1
Poetry

Escape Rope

Posted on by Cheal Off


It bothers me when people think,
Though thankfully they rarely do,
That because I like to stare at my phone, with headphones on,
I cannot appreciate the world.
‘Ours’ is not the world.
I want to see;
The world ‘we’ve’ made.
Is concrete, ugly.

When life is proud and all around,
Fauna surrounds Flora on ground,
The head comes up,
The phones come down,
That is beauty, sight and sound.

0
prose

Dear NHS…

Posted on by Cheal Off

‘Dear’ NHS,

This will, hopefully, be the final letter I need to write; may the power of this message shine through, at last.

I was diagnosed with depression at 15; I was self-harming and have consistently done so since, including several suicide attempts.

At 26 I was diagnosed, at last, with AUTISM, ADHD and DYSPRAXIA.

It is quite obvious why I was depressed.

Since being diagnosed with depression I have received NO THERAPY, save Family Consultation, which my family decided they didn’t want to do, and three Counselling sessions, paid for by a former employer, following a breakdown at work.

THESE THREE SESSIONS REMAIN THE MOST USEFUL SUPPORT I HAVE BEEN PROVIDED (they were private).

Other than that, the only person I can say has helped me in any way has been Dr. Nikita Kanani, who has been an understanding ear. However, as a GP, her power is incredibly limited.

I am desperate for therapy. It was what I asked for at 15; I was told the wait could be long, and given some SSRIs, which are not intended for pre-adults.

That is ridiculous.

I have a degree and over the past 4 years I have worked, for a maximum period of up to 8 months, as: a teacher; a teaching assistant; a holiday club assistant; a nursery senior practitioner; a nursery assistant. I also lived as a homeless man for 8 months.

SURELY, this PROVES that I am intelligent, capable and willing.

I keep having nervous breakdowns as a result of my autism; meltdowns are a feature of autism but I receive no financial support at all, so every time I have one and have to take time off work, I end up with no money. Then I can’t eat or pay rent. Then my depression gets worse.

I keep having mental breakdowns as a result of my depression; these will keep happening until I have some sort of support that means it is recognized that I have the same level of disability as anyone else with a registered disability; I feel like I am being punished for having eyes and legs and sometimes I think the best way to prove how bad my mental illness is would be to cut these off.

Worst of all, someone prescribed me Diazepam, which has been immeasurably useful in massively cutting down all features of all conditions, keeping me calm and allowing me to slow down and think carefully about things that normally cause me panic. I also feel I can do basic day-to-day tasks better. However, despite this being the one thing, other than therapy, which has helped me in any way, I am repeatedly being told that I am not allowed to use it long term, and it is just an emergency while I wait (another 12 years?) for therapy. So, basically, when I finally get the help I have been asking for, it’ll be ten times harder because ‘they/you’ will take away the one drug I am willing to take, which actually helps, unlike the three different SSRIs I have taken, which are known to have dangerous side-effects and all of which made my life worse.

Please help,

Yours in very little faith,

Jack Edward Cheal Baxter

PS: How many autistic people need to kill themselves or someone else before people realise how desperate life is for us right now?

That is neither a threat, nor a warning, just a damn good question.

 

2
Poetry

High Summer Rain

Posted on by Cheal Off

3

Golden orange light
Reflects off the rain covering everything,
Faint shimmer of browns and yellows,
As the ground reflects the leaves of the conker;
Fruit spiky and proud of the mottled mass,
Pure green, globular, the Mother’s massage ball.

Apple trees hide in the open
Green spaces between bus stops,
More sombre tones from the
Warm side of the spectrum,
Sailing to work on a golden sea;
Sunrise in high summer.

0