Drama Queen

She wore a melancholic smile

had the boys eating

out of her hand

a rose petal lip

curling outwardly

as she would flash

her infamous sexy pout

as they queued

to watch

her strip

a magnificent first

boy’z night out

dancing to the tune

of a big brass band

sat on his lap

money slipped into her

freshly silken hand

her tobacco coloured hair

swaying to a glitter ball

her beautifully vacant stare

swimming around the dance hall

that woman could eat

men alive

those who got out alive

always came running back

for more

the girl was a classy dancer

no-one dared to call

that girl a whore

denial fell gently

on those ears

wore by gentlemen

who would dance with her

right through the night

at dawn they were creep out

shame ridden

trying to remain

out of sight

back to their

ordinary wives

back to their

complicated lives.


MedusaMoon c2016


The Man Who Stole Her Soul

Finally cracked

fragmentations of my sanity

deeper, deeper

wildest rivers waltzing

in simplistic harmony

stood on a hill

outward glances

inwards stares

tower block mountains

crumbling at my knees

wandering aimlessly

stark cold defeat

I fell at his feet

on a familiar street

oi buddy

you alright?

oi buddy

are you ill?

forget your mental illness

here is a brand new

super designer pill

don’t worry baby

mommy still cares

just do not cry

in public

at last

I am a

mental health diagnose

now you have been

placed inside an neatly

contained box

f**k me, no-one noticed

I am wearing odd socks

so I disappoint you

guess what?

I disappoint me

I am an alcoholic

what did you expect of me?

to grow up so perfectly

with nothing obscure to hide

a penny, a pound

the useless cost

of my suppressed grandiose

debauched drunken pride

take away all meaning

watch me

as I die inside

every corner

I must escaped

when is sexually abuse

not considered

to be violent rape?

still no-where safe to hide

pint of newly painted

rationality surrounds

my irrationality

I need to hide this pain


it has a skill

it wants to avoid me

who am I trying to be

if I be what they expect

maybe I will no longer

be treated as just

a sexually exploited pet

tell me honestly

does anyone care

I can never wash the stink

I carry inside

my bleach blond hair

numbness is all I am

please direct me

tell me how much longer

do I have to wander

in this snow

storming moments

my disguise

no one hears

the lost child’s cry

abandoned flowers

upon the grave

another empty hole

another lost soul dies.


MedusaMoon c2016

Farey Tales of Brutality

Stick and stones

breaks tiny bones

brutal violence

alarms me

verbal abuse

internalise scars

dogmatic words

really do harm me

Humpty dump child

he was a wall

to fend off daddy’s violence

protecting mother

great strength, so small

collecting bruises

with each brutal fall

never understood kindness

Little Jill Horner

left sat in a corner

force-fed over backed

three day old pigeon pie

countless trips to A&E

too resilient

to breakdown and cry

Mary had the purest heart

her hair was white as snow

Mary had experience things

little girls should never know

under developed

over abused

Mary body constantly

unacceptability used

no-one notices

blue bruises

another unexplained

red mark

no-one questions

why she is so afraid

of the dark

Monday’s child

wears scars on her face

Tuesday’s child

felt so out of place

Wednesday’s child

received the violence

he was given

Thursday’s child

learnt how to just give in

Friday’s child

so full of sadness and woe

Saturday’s child

has no place to go

Sunday’s child

never made it past four

how many times can he

walk into a door?

three small children

see how they run

faster, faster

as quick as you can

drunken daddy

holds a gun

old mother haggard

went to the local pub

leaving five children alone

went she arrive back

in a chromicised state

she broke each tiny little bone

there was a young woman

her depression was blue

she had so many children

she did not know what to do

late at night

she would place them in bed

off she would steal

to paint the town red

reality’s brutality

the truth we must hide

children who suffer

hold everything inside

abuse is an elephant

sat inside a class war

we wave children goodbye

whilst closing the open door

please do not remain silent

child abuse is against the law

children need us all

to pay closer attention

to the blank, vacant stare

adult should be more responsible

children should not

have to be taken into care.


MedusaMoon c2016

Rapunzel’s Red Hair

An idealisation of whom

she was meant to be

cosmetic surgery

reconstruction of her

natural simplicity

sense of self starvation

wearying frightfully thin

fragmentation of inner being

attention sought inside

the industry of pornography

acts of violence

criminally obscene

repulsive Rapunzel

let down your red hair

sell me your worth

while I pay you to care

remain lock in a tower

blocks against a polluted sky

matches the toxicity

held within your lungs

whilst you keep getting high

to avoid the painfulness

of your life’s choice

your destiny

farfetched truth from

this princess’ reality

the King with his iron fist

controlling brutality

has you trapped

bird in a cage

he shows you benevolence

you show him cash

arrive home penniless

dire consequences

his unsuppressed rage

surely this child

is seemingly underage

behold a savour

those men in uniform

red lights flashing

as they inhumanly arrest

little girl blue

dogmatic words shouted

unnecessarily cruel

locked in a cell

only one night

a haven compare

to the relentless fight

survival of the fittest


it takes the living dead

to endure the hell

memories held inside

aching, sore head

ghost of a little girl

beautiful locks of red

neon signs

crackle against another

pointless, meaningless dawn

shivering inside

cold turkey

early morn

desperation to remain high

escapism for reality

watch the living dead fly

they do not exist

turn another blind eye

why should we care

if another prostitute must die

newspaper do not print

sex trafficking

child prostitution

sex trade

cause and effect

no substance or solution

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

cut your red locks

let men fall from great heights

run away from the docks

mirror, mirror in the sky

tiny dew drops

question why

do fallen flowers

turn their heads away

from the sun

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

get up and run

a pimp stood behind you

holding a loaded gun

a silent scream

wailing out into the night

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

just turned out her light.


MedusaMoon c2016