A Selection of Works by K J Lander aka essexcowgirl ©

[Louis P. Burns aka Lugh]

• A Selection of Works by K J Lander aka essexcowgirl ©

[Essexcowgirl]

Dirty Linen



Sunlight pushes tiny fingers through gaps in the curtains
They leave laser lines over the bed
Illuminating the disarray of cotton and linen
Tangled, love knotted sheets brazenly obvious.

DNA strand on the pillow tells tales on you
Long and golden, a length of yellow silk
I hold it between shaking digits
and in my minds eye can see her reclining in ecstasy

The sails of the bed are shaken and thrown
To the confines of dirty secrets and soiled promises
Willingly replaced by the fresh sweet smelling squares
That we bought together, before.

[Essexcowgirl]

THIS MODERN LIFE


Phenetical, parenthetical, artificial intellectual;
the basis for a modern way of living.

Hetrosex, homosex, unisex - don't forget the durex;
labels required for lovers giving.

Homeopathy, aromatherapy, psychology, sociopathy;
New age requirements for being.

Pubescence, adolescence, essential essence; no damn sense.
Excuses for looking but not seeing.

Burning effigy, hard-core pornography, what kind of coffee?
Generation spoilt by too much choosing.

Finance advisory, image therapy, plastic surgery, why the hell me?
What is it, that they're all afraid of losing?

Do the fancy words make the world a better place?
Do the prognostics of makind unmask a different face?
Does the shrink have all the answers?
To reply to all the askers
of the questions still left hanging
by the heads against walls banging
because the queries are nonsensical
from a life no longer logical.

Just take it as it is
it's just life...

[Essexcowgirl]

Mr Metamorphic


You said I was a flower,
that I smelt of musk and honey
weren't interested in my money.
You told her the same lie,
except she was apple pie
because of her youth.

Seems she too wasn't right
too uptight, a proper bitch
you told her; just not rich.
Would have thought she'd see
your serial monogamy
was not subject to pause.

Mr Metamorphic changed
to fit another mould
found another hand to hold
too much of a dude to date
Emma, or Clarice or Kate
So goddamn special you.

I hear your latest is a blonde
hope she knows your place
somewhere in some dark space
where you can be an arsehole
can't sell another female soul
to the devil in your pants.

[Catherine Edmunds]

Kate, we're re-organising this part of the site, so when you've got a moment, I'd be grateful if you could move these poems into your section of the library here.

Cheers.