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Scott T Dec 2013
You may win the rat race
But you will still be a rat
Scott T Feb 2017
A mess of thighs and hair and love
We ******
For the same reason
That kids throw rocks at the sea
Scott T Jan 2014
Night bus
And the pug nosed guy in the suit over there
Staring me down
Is a thousand broken dreams
And the young girl down there
Who looks weird
But my kind of weird
Is a thousand unexplored
And the ***** with the cap trying to finish off his crossword
Is Gil Scott-Heron
And no one sits next to me as I spill my poison through the keypad into a cracked screen
Scott T Feb 2015
Me and my brothers
We are raised tall and defiant
We are rallied and railed against
An apathetic world at which we spit
We spiel our ululations to the night sky
Our candles burn at both ends

We rise to get broken
Here comes ocean
Icarus wouldn't be a legend
If he hadn't aimed for heaven
Scott T May 2017
Life is like the M25
Circular and eternal
Covered in tarmac
With little skid marks
And Little Chefs
Life isn't really like the M25
Nothing is really like anything
Scott T Apr 2014
I am an extension of some primal will to survive
But something bigger in here
Is asking
Why
Scott T Apr 2014
No sleep and I take my dark eyes to the streets
and the membrane separating the subconscious is weak
People become angels and demons
Screeching metro wheels are symphony orchestras
and emotions bump, collide and vibrate like particles in boiling water
No sleep but it's going to be a good day
Scott T Sep 2013
I can sense a great sadness in you
You may wrap a large jacket around your shoulders
And curl up into a ball at night
But the sadness shines through
The tight ball
And the large jacket
You bring it with you to the streets
And you cut slices of it off for the people you talk to

I hope that one day
The cork
Holding it all in there
Pops out
Scott T Sep 2013
We stood infront of each other
Ripping off chunks of flesh
Mixed with matted hair
We gouged eyes
Struck bone
Tore strips of skin
As pools formed at our feet
And kept going
Clawing at cartiledge
Pulling at intestines
Until we got to the core
And we were both bare
That was our love
Scott T Apr 2014
My foot
on the small of your back
Your lips
at the foot of my ****
We rise
and fall
together
Scott T May 2013
We are born with the capacity to love everyone
To find anything sexually gratifying
We are conditioned otherwise
**** condition
Seek to deregulate
Seek to push
Seek to love
Scott T Apr 2015
If you leave me
I will send you poetry
And if we marry
And you leave me
I will send you poetry
And alimony
And if your new guy beats me
I will still send you poetry
Your bones could leave this sad world baby
And I'd just switch to elegies
Scott T Dec 2018
Ever since you left me
I can see ends built into beginnings
Everywhere
You ******
Scott T Mar 2016
If you want to cross a sea
Sink
Scott T Oct 2014
I am tired of the Americans chasing their opaque neon dream
I am tired of well tailored speeches justifying wars
I am tired of the dusty remnants of a roman lie striking fear into the hearts of many
and an absent god forcing his framework on an apathetic world
and I am tired
I am tired of constipated museums
and the few dictating the sonic landscape of the many
I am tired of horse meat scandals and frenzies over crashed planes
and I am tired
I am tired of globalisation being an auction for the lowest human rights
rather than being
wasabi peas at Tescos
And sleep is the cowardly death
of the feelies and TVs of the world
Scott T Apr 2014
On monday
I will have to brush shoulders
with artless people
in an artless world
but for now
I have Songs from a Room
and Dave Bixby
and the stumbling hours of a Sunday afternoon
Scott T Aug 2013
If you say I sound bitter
Well,
I'm not your baby sitter
I can't tell you that Eden awaits in the clouds
That the perfect one
Is out there
And so forth

We have to sift through the shadows
To find the light my friends
Scott T Oct 2013
If you want to love,
Knock your head with a rock
Until you are blind
To blaring truth
Scott T Oct 2013
There is genuinely a poem on here
Called "My love for you is Like Violin Dubstep"
And it's fine that people don't read my ****
If it's the people behind such artless crap
Scott T Mar 2014
The poetry
It has spilled
Like the blood of a great massacre
And it has diluted
To a near transparent film
Over the 21st century
Over Miley Cyrus' ***
Over grotesquely distorted salaries
It lingers in the grey concrete behemoths of utilitarian cities
It's on your cat
It's in your parents hair
It's in Angela Merkells teeth
And this omnipresent film
That only few can see
Is evaporating into a backdrop incandescent beauty
It's vaporising into an intoxicating nectar
It's what slavery was to the blues
Or the reconstructions of war to bauhaus
Or what the crusades were to the renaissance
So twerk on Miley
Your artlessness
Makes art stronger by the day
Scott T Sep 2013
Yesterday
I heard a street preacher
Ask a man
If he had found god
And he replied
"I have money and health
I don't need god"
This struck me as very true
And
I wasn't sure who I hated more
Out of the three
Scott T Nov 2013
I know all these people who life pulls by the hand
Life never let's them get any rest
It tells them to sit up straight
But then gives them good chairs to slouch on
It tells them to be sociable
But then puts beer down their throat
And makes them sociable only sometimes
These people get no rest
And if they slip they just get dragged along

And all these people need to dig their feet in
They need to make their life go at the right pace
Or the right direction
Scott T Mar 2014
As I puff
And and **** sadly
On carbon monoxide,
Nicotine
And
5000 others
I think of Nixon, Maggie
And other incarnations of the devil
And realise
That in the end
Time
Is the greatest dicator
Scott T Nov 2013
There will always be a gap between what I say





And what I mean
Scott T Nov 2013
I used to turn up late
I used to take the long way home
I used to stay up in ecstasy or agony until the first lights of day
But I woke up today and found myself trapped
By the 6:45 alarm
By a bowl of Musli
By brushing my molars
By the No. 27 bus
By my desk chair
Colleagues
Targets
And slowly you smile
And nod
As they take you away
From yourself
Somehow
Scott T Nov 2013
It's crazy how you can be at the right place at the right time
And become a millionaire
Or the wrong place at the wrong time and die In a gutter
And how arbitrarily these people are chosen
And how many things we can invent
To make it all seem like it makes sense
Scott T Jan 2014
Just the dull sighing of cars
As they float by my window
Projecting trailing shadows across the wall
Just the pale gleam of the moon
As it barely lights up the earth
And just a small man
In his bed
Seeing this
Hearing this
In this
But incapable of grappling with this
And what this is
Scott T Oct 2014
I'm unhealthy, badly
You see..
Rotting, sadly
And I'd take you back
Gladly
Scott T Nov 2013
The late worm
Misses the bird
Scott T Jan 2016
Glassy eyed and
Lost in utilitarian cities
With a low-yielding love
And a useless imagination
With the bad art
And the public transport seat pattern blues
Scott T Nov 2013
Most mornings
Are met by a deep sigh
But at least
I don't have to whip off my covers
And find that I don't have any legs
Or no *****
Every morning

Nina Simone might be happy about having her smile
But I'm just pleased about having my legs
And my *****
Scott T Jan 2014
There was a saint at the bar last night
He wore a battered shirt
And had uneven stubble
He cradled his beers
Peeling the labels off out of boredom
If you looked closely you could see the early signs of a receding hair line
And bags under his eyes
All he had said in three days
Was "beer" and "thanks"
He didn't look like a saint
And no one went home with him that night
And he ate 50 aspirin
And he wasn't at the bar the next day
Or the next
But he was a saint
Scott T Nov 2013
We two boys together clinging
Absinthe drinking
Paradise garage dancing
Old people alarming
Tower top gazing
Hands clutching
Discordant steps searching
Sound of you falling
Giovanni's room emulating
Stop the lift kissing
Separated
Then returning
And turning
Swinging
Dancing
2-stepping
Laughing
Crying
In
Bars
Clubs
Roofs
Rooms
Corridors
Parks
Shops
Seats
Cinemas
Streets
And then returning
Hands clasping
Lips locking
On our mattress
Fulfilling our foray
Scott T Jul 2011
Telling me to write it differently
But can you carve my feelings?
Because the words I chose so carefully
Are part of my minds reelings

I’ve lain myself down for all to see
Although hidden a few brush strokes
I am these words, these words are me
Or is it all a hoax?

Why write down in rhythmic structure
Simple workings of the mind
When all they are is basic thoughts
Written behind the rules of rhyme

Pretending to rhyme a with b
when im fitting problem and solution
Pretend to write a simple poem
When im clearing my confusion
Scott T Jun 2011
Moi: blanc, pur, droit.
Toi: noir, impur, a plat.
Une guerre, une embrasse, une rencontre
Une éternité, sévère, sans importance

— The End —