ON the subject.

OF fuck knows .

FUCK ALL.

Excuse me.

Thanks.

You seem very forgiving.

And i appreciate that.

He wore a tailored hat.

Armani suit.

Shoes and all.

Most suited him.

Good, nice fit.

Thanks & ta la.

"Well fuck me.

Whered you crawl from.

You horrible looking sick fuck."

Cant Adam & eve it.

Why does he make it linger.

All to push & touch my boundaries.

"Don't push to far".

Dartmoor such a wonderful.

Gleaming.

Full of beauty.

Hell hole.

Of which  many try to burrow out.

If lucky (cant see it).

Where then.

Only one place.

Forget the fucking GRACE.

NO1.

Of this written load of bollocks.

Field upon swamp.

Upon swamp .

AND MILES MORE FIELDS.

Lanes of FUCK .

KNOWS WHERE.

UNTITLED

We create.

Heaven.

A warm room.

Back of the church.

People gather.

A cult ?.

Piece of mind.

Something to look forward too.

Hope.

The desperate find sanctuary & find there belonging need.

Some one to lean on.

BE there for.

From beginning till end.

As we slowly strip.

Chip away at.

Break down.

Heaven.

Are you for real..

The all white.

Fluffy fucking clouds.

Peace unity.

All love.

No more pain.

Floating about.

Fucking about.

Please please please.

Not today darling.

Thank you all the same.

Now please fuck off.

A POEM I WROTE WHILST SITTING BY MY DYING FATHERS BED

• Written by Kenny at his father’s bedside on Saturday 29th September 2012
  

  For my father.

   Ken Moore.

   I will cherish The fond memories We both share. In times of need You were there. 

  You daddy.

  Let me live my life as a Free Soul, Free Spirit.

   You never tied me down with so called boundaries of control.

  
  You made me right, through guidance and self knowledge, so I was never afraid to turn to you, when I had done wrong.

  
  I remember Butlins, swimming.

  
  The 800 metre race.

  Of which you were there cheering me on.

  
  Which carried me across the finish line as the winner.
  I was so proud as you were.

  
  Proud to have my father watch me win

  
  

  So many, too many, happy memories to count.
  And now you’re leaving.

   Not dying.

  
  As not one day will go past without you in my thoughts, you shall forever be with me.

  
  Through my heart.

  
  My heart will ache and mourn the loss of you daddy.
  But i know you will be going to a brighter much more loving place.

  
  I shall go to the places we both went to
  And sit and reminisce , as you father part the clouds and shine down.

  
  I know I have been a little bugger (as nan says).

  
  I have been the sour taste of lime.
  Whilst you made the sun shine just for fun.
  Me not frozen beneath no more.

  
  I love you Ken Moore.
  Who I can proudly say is my father.

  Love forever and always your son Kenny Moore. xxxxxxxx

  
  

COOKING WITH RCK1

Because shes the sweetest thing.

The sweetest buzz in the world..

Cook the sugar ( BROWN SUGAR OF COARSE).

With some vit,c or citric acid.

Let it cool down.

Sprinkle some WHITE over the brown.

Crush and stir the white.

Filter please.

1ml thank you.

Take it up the motorway.

And.

And .

All because shes the sweetest buzz in the world..

MY DIEYING DADDY

FATHER.

I cant accept it has happened.

To you.

And to me..

Plus the rest of the family.

I know my words wont cure you of your pain.

But i just want to explain.

And express my gratitude.

Love, & thoughts.

From a son.

You haven't seen much of.

A son that is proud.

And honerd.

To carry your name.

PLEASE feel no shame.

On floating tides of misery.

Which has enveloped you.

And left you helpless.

Hopeless.

We all live to die.

But honestly.

DO we die.

Or are we forgotten.

Dad.

I love you .

My love for you shall never die.

As .

You will always .

Be the one.

Left to shine on.

My thoughts.

Feelings.

Will never fade.

As i am .

So amused.

And proud.

To have.

You.

KEN MOORE.

As.

My

Father.

GOLDEN BROWN

The brown powder.

Brown sugar.

Leaves the heart fond.

And golden brown.

Removes all that frown.

Fear not .

The stigma.

Steriotypical.

Judgemental.

Of this tit for tat.

Opiates are pure.

Heaven like.

The euphoric rush.

The once emotionaly crippled.

Stands once again.

Whilst under the hypnotic charm.

Of poppy seed waste.

Poppy seed waste, why waste it.

The beauty of a narc .

With such flawless beauty.

And charm.

For this powder.

Shall charm.

And induce all that cause it strife.

Forget the wife playing away.

The pain & misery.

Of every day life.

Anxiety, anger, loneliness.

To many jump the gun,.

And run,run,run.

From what.

YOU do or you dont.

But trust me.

I see the blaming,

Cursing, the pain and suffering.

Of mis-use.

"Look what that shit did to me".

Says the man with one leg.

No, no and know this.

You did that to yourself.

Golden brown doesnt call you .

 

Begging you to take her in your arms.

OR IN YOUR CASE UR LEG.

You shot yourself.

Time after time.

Using filthy pins.

To ease your pain.

And still you blame.

A piece of brown powder.

BE CLUMSY BE YOURSELF

Is there really a person named RCK1.

Asked the friend.

Yes my friend  that is i .

I reply.

But you seem such an intelligent man.

Of course i am.

Intelligent.

Witty.

Please don't pity.

My clumsiness .

And mistake it as a bad, negative.

Value.

One has RCK1.

R CLUMSY KENNY IS NO 1.

You see my friend.

No one is perfect.

Far from it.

But above it.

I am myself.

Kenny moore...

STONED IN ROCHESTER

It was a beautiful summers day.

Way back in may.

1990s.

Me,Gaz, & don.

All equipped with materials.

For building spliffs.

We are in Rochester.

A town in medway.

At the back of Charles dickens.

House .

Where Charles did most of his writings.

Sat on wooden benches.

Onlooking the two ponds full of beautifully coloured fish.

A small bridge mounted in the middle of the ponds.

Flowers, pink blue orange red, yellow.

Climb the house.

And cover the garden.

We skin up.

Sit back .

Glaring at dickens writing house.

Soon were stoned.

So head of to Rochester castle.

Through the high st .

Eyes red as can be.

The castle .

Tall and historic.

To the left.

A hanging post.

Where people used to be hung.

We enter the castle grounds.

Lay on the grass.

As we smoke more of it.

To our right .

Rochester cathedral.

Straight ahead of us.

The river medway.

There has always been something magical.

Mystical.

Gothical.

About Rochester .

With its cobbled stone walk ways.

Magnificent buildings.

Just a lovely town .

Not just to get stoned in.

But by its self.

Rochester has something tranquil about it.

We lay stoned absorbing all the beauty.

Those days .

When we were 16.

ARE LONG .

And gone.

But my heart.

Will never let it go.

SOMETHINGS CANT BE FIXED.

Don't try to fix something that isn't broken.

Well my heart ache ..

Remains.

Smashed to pieces.

This pain is no self pity.

My body's broken bones.

MOST fixed.

But my heart .

Has suffered.

13 years of which cannot be mended.

I need to see you .

Feel you.

I need you by my side.

Hand in hand.

Running .

Walking free.

I so so need us together again.

I dry my eyes.

In vein.

Just to see the rain ..

Pour from my eyes once more.

Why did i lose you.

Nothing is the same.

Ime lost & confused.

A tune floating aimlessly.

A lost soul .

without you.

LOST FACES

You will spend alot of time.

And make friends.

Plus think to yourself.

This shall never end.

The faces,places,FRIENDS.

Till one day.

You realise.

10 years or so.

Have been and gone.

Sat reminiscing.

Summers day.

Smell the hay.

Thinking back .

To a time ,

A place.

A face.

When you was with your long gone friend.

Having a great.

Whale of a time.

But theres always that special face and place.

For me.

A special girl.

Now women.

Now dead.

And can be said.

We never forget the..

Dead

SHADOW

Shadow.

Hours have past.

Yet you cast.

Across the wall of the hallway.

Whaling.

As you slowly drip .

From behind me.

Shadow ..

Though never shallow.

Nor shady.

Shadow.

Still you follow me.

WHERE ever i go.

But only at night .

I see you.

But do you see me ?

You slowly fade.

As another dawn creeps upon you.

That night.

You crawl .

And creep up on me.

Hands, arms, body.

Tight as can be.

Thrown against the wall.

Leaving me confused.

Was it you shadow.

Or was it another entity.

I will never know

FLYING

Don't be scared.

DO not be shy.

Spread your wings and you shall .

Fly.

Open blue sky.

From the corner of my eye.

A tear.

Runs my face.

Clouds here.

There & every where.

Ime free.

As i sore.

Glide.

Full of pride.

I twist & twirl.

Cut & dive.

Through the pink.

Fluffy clouds.

Candyfloss ..

I smother in.

This weightlessness .

And gain .

Sight.

Once again.

Removes the ugliness.

Which blurred my vision.

& true to myself.

I once again.

See the beauty .

Of a once grey & dismal.

World.

Unfolds the beauty .

Of life...

MONEY AND WORRY

Why is it a constant worry when it comes to ..

Money.

Oh stop your worrying.

Go make some.

Give me the plates ink & all needed .

And i shall make some money.

Not money made from a 9 to 5.

But forged money.

"Oh no that's fraud"

YOU mean to tell me you have never handled fraudulent money.

Trust me without knowing it.

And by knowing it.

90% OF us has been passed ..

Dodgy money.

In one form or other.

Even then money.

Is a worry

MOTHER NATURE

Sat watching a documentary.

An orchid. (killer whale).

Calls out, crys out.

What a beautiful creature.

This planet. with its abundance of beauty.

Then man came along & trys & trys so hard .

That man has achieved his goal of ruining planet earth.

Why should earth put up with it.

No man nor women would .

Human vs earth,.

But why.

The wars,pollution,, science,

Making money.

From Raine Forrest's.,lakes,rivers,sea,trees, etc, etc.

We take it all for granted.

How many times will you lay under a full moon.

On a clear darkened sky.

How many times will we see the sun beaming down on us.

And yet it all seems limitless.

Earth will turn on us.

We are a plague a disease.

Parasite to earth.

Mother nature.

Wont put up with this destruction much longer.

She has warned us.

With the earth quakes, tsunami's (mothers army), flooding England in the middle of July.

We shall be the ones paying the price .

All for what.

Money, power (false sense of) ,control, land etc etc.

Land of which will not be seen.

Nor heard.

As it will be swolled by our greed.

THE WRONG ROAD

I hope.

And only hope.

Sick of praying to no avail.

That day will come when i say.

Enough is enough.

I want to walk on the right side of the road.

The one that has light.

To lead me home.

Instead i follow the dark road.

Which always leads me to a.

DEAD end.

My life has always been controlled.

By substances.

Authority.

People who think they are able .

To cage & tame a man .

All, as he/she wears a uniform( normally blue & white, black tie, shinny shoes,well pressed trouser).

Me i have lived a troublesome life.

Wild & chaotic.

Pure fucked upness.?

I question.

My fucked upness .

AM i justified.

Can i justify.

The abuse.

I put my body mind & spirit through.

Or am i right ..

In this fucked up world of which i must stay.

Am i escaping reality.

Or is it my denial .

Of this shite existence.

Reality is crap.

The responsibility i own .

I owe.

Does my mear existence count for anything.

THIS IS NOT LIFE. (ime red faced).

All that chrystal means to me.

Free..

Will i ever be free.

Life mainly a big not joke.

Big game.

I rome from town 2 town..

Leaving destruction where ever i go..

Me no rules applied.

I DRAW THE LINE ON SICK SHIT (YOU KNOW WHAT IME GOING ON ABOUT).

The filth just accumulates & gathers.

Just as a snow ball ..

rolling down the snow covered hills.

At the bottom of the hill.

One big toilet,

Splash ..

In goes the snow ball.

Covered in shit ..

There is beauty to be seen.

But drugs have way of making everything extra beautiful.

At the beginning they do ..

But once your caught.

The beauty you once saw.

Has gone.

Eyes coloured grey 

As you slowly .

Fade away..

45.....?

Will i still be alive.

When ime 45 ?

Or shall i die.

You may question why.

Things must change.

Before that age.

As 45 creeps up on me.

Tis doubtful ile make 45.

This give me gratification..

A man torn & emotionally disabled.

Squeeze me please.

Squeeze out the ousing , emotions.

Most full with anxiety.

Tainted ,painted black.

Fainted & fading.

Is my mind, body & soul.

Does my soul still exist.

Is my soul still with me.

Or is it amiss.

The torture i endure.

(SOME PEOPLE SAY ITS YOUR OWN DOING,).

No no no.

The substances that i pump into my body.

I take responsibility for.

Although its not done out of fun (the buzz).

My nerves need taming.

OF which many professionals have tried .

To no avail ..

2 YEARS, 3YRS total abstinence ..

BUT the anxiety & panic attacks .

Will not leave me alone.

Time to call myself (the doctor).

So i can self medicate.

And go through the whole cycle once again .

The fear has gone,(HASN'T IT).

Yes for these sweet few hours.

Only to return ..

Very aggressively.

Leaving me on my knees with my hands in the air.....

MR BLUES

And yes the black man.

With his blues.

Helped the guitar cry.

And sigh .

The man also wept & cried .

Tears of joy.

Ran down his face & onto the strat guitars face (headstock).

Down its neck & body.

The hammer ons ..

Belted the guitar.

As if the stratocaster  had done something wrong.

Mr blues.

Slipped & slided all over the guitars fret board.

Fret not stratocaster.

For we are one.

In perfect harmony .

8 two 12 beat bars.

Bartender.

12 of your finest ..

Please.

Was the order.

In which they both played...

MUM

Father.

You was never there for us.(me,my brother & mum..)

But why.

Was it the responsibility.

Was it the conflict between you & mum..?

But i don't hold a grudge.

Mum you was always there.

Through thick & thin.

And took allot on your chin..

You mother..

Was the back bone.

Whilst i was in a twilight zone.

Trying to fit in..

Mum you kept it all in.

Your sons sins.

You never judged.

Neither did you disown me.

Hence i was never alone.

To face my demons on my own..

You gave me strength.

That helped me..

Overcome, Most depths.

Of horrendousness.

Stay strong.

As you always have.

And promise.

You will not.

Leave me to my own devices.

No longer shall i .go to the places.

And lay .
on a summers day..

Surrounded by daisies

Come up smelling of roses.

Never to leave me on my own...

MEMOIRS.ONE HEROIN ADDICTS DAY

Due to me going ruthlessly mad.

Yes i think my mind has had enough.

Past two weeks .

No sorry..

Past 6 weeks..

Back in 1996

I wake stumble to my bathroom.

Lock the door.

Check make sure its locked (the bathroom door).

Grab my Pandora's box (steel Guinness case).

Open it.

Grab a 1ml.

Spoon lays waiting anticipating, the powder.

Bight the previously melted bag off.

Teeth rip it apart.

Sprinkle some magic onto the overly whelmed spoon.

A little citric acid...

Go back grab the 1ml..

Turn the tap ..

And cup water, whilst draining the palm of my hand ..

Syringe full enough .

Oh yes.

Squirt water into the mixture of citric acid &..

Lighter please.

Flames cup the sacred spoon of doom.

Slowly the acid brakes down and cooks the poppy seed waste.

Filter .

Don't want any more shite other than the euphoric hit flowing through my veins.

1ml syringe onto filter.

Slowly drain the hungry spoon.

VEINS thick as Arnie's (Arnold Schwarzenegger, or something like that).

I tense up.

Plug the spike into my vein.

And i tell you things werent quite the same.

I wake in a twilight zone.

On my knees .

BAG  of utopia held up in the air.

For what i do not know.

Probably saving it from ending up all over the floor.

You see i don't know how long i was holding this bag in the air for.

Could of been hours.

But what about me .

I just fell .

Into a world of comfort & contentment.

Whilst on my knees..

Struggling to hold the bag of gloom..

Before its dropped & useless.

Yes 6 weeks now .

Nothing but drugs.

YES .

I have relapsed.

Once again.

But theres not to much Paine.

My mind i cant explain.

Kinda Trippe.

SORT of fucked up.

Heroin.

What a label.

The fucking hero.

Are you for real.

Six weeks to long.

Or not enough.

Cant fucking win either way.

Drugs i respect.

Cos i don't know anything .

That could do the damage drugs do ..

You name it drugs has done it .

Its been before your wife.

Your kids.

YOUR FREEDOM.

Your insanity.

Your once moralistic way.

All out the way.

For drugs.

Sell yourself.

Sell your soul.

If only..

It lead to a friendly goal.

I have for (like i said ).

Six weeks.been,

Pumping my veins body & soul.

With a needless to say fractured scared soul ..

REALITY Vs DENIAL

I hope and not pray.

Sick of praying, to no avail.

That lois my daughter.

Does not follow the dark & ever lasting.

Twisted road i took.

My life has always been controlled.

By substances or people

All because they followed the line.

He/she wears.

Uniform.

Mainly blue & white.

AUTHORITY.

Me,lived a wild & troublesome life.

Pure fucked upness ?.

I question.

My fucked upness.

Am i justified.

Can i justify the abuse i put myself through.

Or am i right in this fucked up world.

Am i escaping reality.

Or denial.

Reality is shit .

Or is it my denial of this shite existence.

That i have & owe  responsibility.

Free..

Will i ever be

I Rome from town to town.

Left are the once towns. free.

Now destruction.

Where ever i go.

Ive done wrong, no saint.

And have morals.

I used to thieve or chor.

Anything.

Just so i could buy drugs and alcohol.

And give myself the misery.

Of a body mind and spirit.

Already dead.

On the borderline

Driving myself mad.

Yea i take responsibility for my misery.

Most time spent repeating .

The false happiness .

I seek that entails ...

Death and or madness.

Am i trying to kill myself.

By my deeply ingrained denial.

Ive done wrong, no saint am i.

Still have morals. Responsibility's to take care of.

Most time ,ime killing myself.

Karma.

Its not done ..

Take drugs & expect no less than..

Paine, Grief, Regret...

You will always feel lonely.

Whilst in the company of others,loved ones,etc..

Feel wrong with out so.

You will isolate yourself.

As the addiction grows.

Whilst you weep & feel sorry for yourself...

You become not obsessed but.

Possessed by the drug of your choice.

Or are you a Polly user.(take anything to suppress the current emotion).

You shall, as mentioned in another writing of mine.

Thieve, beg, brake promises ... (WITH OUT GOING TO THE DEPTHS.OF ADDICTION)

This constant struggle to stay on the straight and narrow.

Grinds you down.

Repeating, the sacred words.

I WILL NEVER.

Till the time comes ...

When you sell out.

Sell your broken dead soul.

Plus your last piece of mind ..

Only for one more shot, HIT..

One more to many.

But if it comforts you .

And you can ..

As you may think.

Function in today's world.

Plus carry yourself.

Then good luck..

MUSIC. LIFE BODY SOUL. MUSIC IS THE GREAT ALMIGHTY

I would fade out.

Give up.

Die without music.

Ime only alive.

Whilst playing,or hearing.

The sweet sound of tunes.

Oh yes.

Rhyme and bang on time.

Play me mister.

A descent track.

Then theres no need for you.

To feel my flak.

Play me some bullshit..

Commercialised boll ox.

And ime of out of  there.

Yes you mister.

Fear.

For i  ..

As you know will shed a tear.

Which always leaves you ?

Where you deserve to be.

I will pickle your cock.

And wrap your penis,(VERY TIDALLY)..

Then deliver it to your misses.

With the smile on my face.

As she answers the door.

I gratefully.

Hand your bishop.

TO YOUR WIFE.

Who was so appreciative.

Hence dont fuck with my music.

"SKY,BLUE, GREEN, FLASHES ,ELECTRIC BLUE."

AS THE FENDER & AMP PUMP, MELODY INTO THE AIR.

REVERBERATING,.

HITTING ME LIKE A BOLT OF HIGH VOLTAGE ELECTRICITY.

BRINGS ME TO LIFE.

SKY NO LONGER GREY & DISMAL

BLUE IS EVERYWHERE.

SKY SEEMS AN ENDLESS ENTITY.

OF ELECTRIC BLUE.

WHITE CLOUDS.

CANDY.

HOVER ALONGSIDE.

THE BEAUTIFUL TWILIGHT SKY

WHAT A DAY TO SKY DIVE.

AN ENDLESS ADVENTURE.

IPOD WHACKING OUT THE TUNES.

LEFT RIGHT & CENTRE.

LET ALL VENTUEROES .

VENDOR.

THE OPEN FREE.

SKY.

BOUT TIME YOU OPEND.

MRS SKY.

ANY LONGER.

A SLAP.

WOULD OF SHOOK YOU UP.

SLAP STRAIGHT ROUND.YOUR.

DASHBOARD.

.BOREDOM

I am sick of.

Cleaning, dusting, cooking, maintaining.

Looking my best.

Out to impress 

Whilst felling as if I've just been blown from the wild wild west.

Bored of.

Relationships (to much hassle).

Got no sex drive.

Got money.

Still ime bored.

Sat in the sun(2 hours to long).

Had a lovely dish,at the restaurant,(nice while it lasted,all of half an hour).

Tired of the same old.

Yes i am a fortune teller.

I predict mr moore .

That tomorrow you will.

Struggle out of your pit.

Drink your cup of tea.

Have a shower.

Drink alcohol.

Walk 3 miles,collect your script.

Go to sainsburys.

Eat some chicken.

Walk 3 miles back home.(sweating your nuts off)

Intake more alcohol.

Maybe write some shit.

Then fall into your comfy armchair.

And wallow.

Wake up the next morning.

Thinking Jesus .

Ive had enough.

Hands cover your eyes as you curl.

And splat your head onto your knees.

Sat on your pity pot.

Ah poor mr moore.

What is up with me.

I have a beautiful daughter.

Lovely home.

Bank account.

Good family(whom ime very grateful to)

For putting up with the shit i have caused.

Health could be better.

But ime not dying(hopefully).

HANDSOME AND DAPPER (AS YOU INSIST MR MOORE).

Talented.

INTELLIGENT.

Ime not going on & on(as ile be here all day.)

You see no matter what happens in my life,in regards to keeping ones self content.

Iam never fucking happy.

For now i will put it down to a state of mind.

And my mind is in a terrible state.

I have the answer to my happiness.

STOP DRINKING BLOODY ALCOHOL.

STOP TAKING PRESCRIPTION F...ING DRUGS.

Hence mr beat yourself up moore.

You will begin to see the beauty life is offering you.

Ok i here you.

But ime still bored shitless .

A PEEP AT THE COUNTRYSIDE

Spring is here isn't it.?

Flowers, pink blue red yellow & green.

Begin to bloom

Sky still grey & dismal.

Yesterday , spring,sprang.

Sky opened.

And down she beams.

Back on the bus-tard.

1 2 3, rabbits bounce joyfully in the open field that stretches for miles.

Miles of fresh fresh green grass.

As i catch them with my eye,from the top of the double decker bus-tard.

Playing free.

A white & brown horse .

Sheep cows.

yes this is the garden of England (Kent).

Such beauty grows.

Houses proudly show off there 15ft hedges.

Styled hedge.

One shaved & pruned to perfection.

In the shape of an elephant.

A peaceful desolate graveyard.

Layed to rest are the loved ones.

Grief stricken, people come brandishing flowers.

To decorate & let live the love all had & still have.

Still have thoughts,memories.

Heartache.

Love lives on beyond the grave .

Most of which ime sure were brave.

Love lives on in the heart & memory. of loved ones.

That's how we never die..

Make sure to have a child.

To carry your memory & name.

For that is our purpose alone.

Tall tress .

Must be hundreds of years old.

Green for miles.

In the horizon.

Grey mist.

Gathers around.

Shading the deep green grass.

Orchards & farms.

Mechanical machines, lay around the farms.

Smell the hay & breath healthy.

Before hitting the city .

Suffocated by car fumes.

Is the air in the city.

River run for miles through cutting countryside.

Ducks,swans ,& other wild life...

Harbour around the river.

With bridges made of old stone ,here and there.

A church.

Sat lonely. and somewhat sad looking.

In the middle of no where.

Just field upon field.surrounding it.

Ime feeling sorry & pitiful for the lonely church.

As most people (not all)but most..

Have deserted the church.

Believe in yourself.

Hence no need for so called god.

Bus is coming into maidstone.

Leaving the countryside behind ...

good bye beautiful. site.

DYKES

Two pink.

4 pink dyke's.

Two days prior, one & half dyke.

No flight.

Kind of took off.

Causing some nervousness.

That being said.

Today two of the dyke's went straight up the M25.

Two odd hours later.

The other 2 dyke's went straight down my neck.

15-30-40 Min's have been & gone.

To my disappointment .

Never took off properly.

Maybe the runway was too wet or something.

Witherspoons.

Me and a pal , by the name of Richie.

Have some lunch, (chips, two eggs, & a nice slice of ham).

Washed down with a pint of something Russian, (nice lager).

Me and rich sit in the big cosy comfy brown leatherd chairs.

Cheers.

Clash as our pint glasses collide.

To our triumph.

Content and relaxed.

In the cosy chair i begin to drift off.

The dyke's who entered my mouth & slid down my throat .

Take off.

The runway is now comfortable .

For a take off.

Ime off.

Sinking deeper & depar.

As the dyke's, cover me.

Felling so warm and happy, elated.

Smothered in blissful inner peacefulness.

At last a piece of mind.

The chair begins to cuddle me.

I lay my head on the chairs shoulder's.

As my utopia is in awe.

Sorry but i will have to end here. As i don't want to glamorise .

WINDOW PAINE

Gazing from the living room

Still grey.

But i know spring is on the way.

Beyond my window.

A tall, & girthy tree stands.

Wavering from the slight wind.

A bird howls.(coo coo ka,coo co).

I feel tranquil.

From the birds pretty harmonic sounds.

Sky trys its best.

Let some sun shine.

I know its on the way.

But no you remain grey.

Almost unseen.

Optimistically thinking.

Today sky.

You are dark and grey.

I shall come back in may.

So i can see you shine once againe.

ADDICTION.

Who from the terrible affliction.

Of addiction shall be next.

Its so sad to hear.

Most of the time whilst visiting medway.

Someone else has died.

Addiction doesn't care who it takes.

As soon as addiction is on you.

Your time could be up anytime.

I have seen it take 15yr olds.

Think your a man.

And can handle it.

Well let me tell you I've seen bigger harder men.

Fall and die from addiction.

The thing is to many people ..

Are to quick to jump to the conclusion..

That its his or her own fault.

Wrong,.

Do you have any idea ..

The Paine & suffering.

Addicts face.

Day in..

Day out.

Plus the ripple effect it has on family.

And loved ones.

I see addiction as an emotional dis-ease.

I used to think i took drugs.

Because of how it made me feel.

A buzz.

No,No.

Drugs are used to suppress uncomfortable feelings..

Loneliness,anxiety,depression,,etc,etc.

As rogers described addiction.

"A BOTTOMLESS BUCKET, OF LOW SELF ESTEEM .
WHICH ADDICTS TRY TO FILL BY DRUG ABUSE, GAMBLING,SEX,COMFORT EATING,ETC.
BUT THEY WILL NEVER FULFIL THEIR DESIRE TO INCREASE THERE LACK OF SELF ESTEEM  OR CONFIDENCE.".

As you obviously cant fill a bucket with no bottom.

So the cycle begins.

I feel very anxious.

Your introduced to hash,coke,benzodiazapines,heroin.

And all anxiety's  are flushed from the body's system immediately .

But drugs are very cunning.

Your excited at this newly found potion.

As it takes away the Paine and suffering doesn't it ?.

Yes for the short term.

Everything is beautiful whilst in the utopias eye.

But as the progression of the intake of substances increases.

So does the paine & suffering you once tryed to avoid .

It comes back with ferousious volocity that one has one option at this time.

And that is when the chase starts.

Youl beg steal borrow,some sell themselves.

Being done up the bumb.

To ease the paine. (adds to it,belates,procrastinates).

The emotional dis-ease.

I suppose i was lucky enough to not go down the road of selling my ass.

But was, i a tear away.

IF it wasnt cemented to the floor and worth at least a tennar.

It was gone,...

With me to be sold to feed my addiction.

I was driven to violance to the extremetys .

Armed robbery..

And to much to go into at this moment.

My time was spent.

17 months shop burglary.

Gate arrest, elmley prison.

To brixton.

Remanded,upon extradition to the republic of ireland.

For the armed robbery.

Ok just done 17 months in elmley,1 moon at brixton.

Then in dundalk circuit (crown court in ireland) court.

4 years.

Already done couple of moons in the joy (mount joy prison dublin) on remand.

Judge gives the 4 plus starts the sentance from that day.

So i lose my remanded time already spent.

Consequences of addiction.

But many more.

I wont bore you with everything.

A little insight.

BASEBALL BAT, two attacks.

CLORE HAMMER,ONCE.

Stabbed left arm.

Left with fractured scull.

Over 100 stiches to face and head.

broken nose.

PLATES RUNNING in both arms from wrist 2 half way up my forearm.

Chipped teeth.

SCARS,to middle of forehead,each eyebrow,to the right of my nose.

Head coloured by scars.

Broken collar bone from a sly munger (hit me from behind,didnt even know it was coming.).

Knuckle broke.

I could go on & on .

But not now.

I JUST WANT PEOPLE TO UNDERSTAND THE DEVISTATION THAT DRUGS HAVE ON PEOPLE,ITS NOT WHAT SOME WANKERS MAKE IT OUT TO BE,IN ALL HONESTY ITS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE,GOD WANT TO SEND ME TO HELL,ALREADY BEEN THERE.

I JUST HOPE THAT KIDS ARE WELL EDUCATED WHEN IT COMES TO DRUGS.

AS I HAVE A DAUGHTER & IT WOULD KILL ME TO FIND MY SPECIAL LITTLE GIRL BEING EMOTIONALY,SPIRITUALY AND PHYSICALLY , DESTROYED.

HOPE PEOPLE GET THIS MESSAGE.AND I WISH  I HAD MORE TIME TO EXPLAIN EVERY CONSEQUENCE THAT DRUGS INCLUDING ALCOHOL (WHICH IS A DRUG BUT SOCIALY ACCEPTED).HAVE ON US.

GOOD HEALTH TO YOU ALL.

REGARDS
KENNY.MOORE XXX





That being one valid theory.

THE TABLES HAVE TURNED

People cue.

Between iron fencing.

Waiting,anticipating.

They smell the stench.

Of slaughter.

As the lion beheads,one after another.

Hens,chicks,pigs,& cows.

On look the slaughter.

I AM KING.

KING OF ALL.

I SHALL MEAT,ALL OF YOUR NEEDS.

OF THE HUMAN SPECIES.

FOR THEY ARE A MEAT.

JUST LIKE YOU OR I.

In order to survive.

We must hunt, capture,and trap.

I have many slaughter houses.

And secured farms.

No human can escape.

The onslaught .

We animals to survive.

Humans full of protein, carbs, and most fat.


Nutrients and minerals.

Shall keep us alive.

We shall drug, shock,then slit throats.

"Drug them haven't they already done that."

Be careful whilst eating a human.

As most are contaminated with drugs,of some sort or other.

Eating  foal infected humans.

Can cause food poisoning.

And or death.

Rugs will be made from human hair.

Skin used as extra warmth.

To cover our cold bodies.

Bones for cleaning & sharpening our teeth.

Monkeys & apes alike.

Shall be equipped.

With weapons made of bone.

Potions and lotions.

Drained blood shall flood.

Our now swept sewers.

For all toxins,bacteria, (good & bad).

Dwell & run through a humans veins.

THY blood will flow.

WE not fear the parched.

Once animal body.

We will & when one wants.

Drink the blood to quench, the thirst.

Categorised bottles of blood..

Will get us high,pissed,dis-eased.

OR deceased.

The virus ed

DIGGING THE DANCING THIEF

Cheata, cheata.

You & i know.

The crimes & grimes youve commited.

AH AH AH AH.

Cheata,cheata.

You & i know.

Where the long green GRASSES grow.

Cheata, cheata.

Whats up your sleave.

AH AH AH AHHHH.

Achieve all that,that you can.

The dancing thief.

Young & free (at the mo).

Only inbetween.(BARS & CONCRETE WALLS).444

 Watch when the lights are low.

He will, know where to go.

Find a pic pocket.

Strung and dumb.

Watch as he  claims it all.

For he is the dancing thief.

Young and free.

Digging the dancing king.

Watch him fleace.

Watch him go (THROUGH EVERY POCKET IN TOWN).

Digging his own grave.

Dont go wasting your emotions.

Save your life & run.

Digging the dancing king.

Young and free.

Only 93

AFTERMATH

Souless bodies.

Wander aimlesly.

Eyelesly.

Eyes snatched.
Blinding, darkness remains.

Darkness blinds the soul.

And eyes lost.

Aimlesly walk.

The decripted town.

A shambles.

Lonely are us humans.

All eyes on us.

As the town glows.

Grows from building to building.

Crowned eye balls paint this town.

This planet earth.

All eye.

Shakra drained from middle of fore head.

Angels with thier now beuityful eyes.

Cover the once dark holes.

All evil is hidden by the eye.

Rivers, lakes, seas.

All infested by dark angels.

Black eyed angels swim free.

DESOLET earth.

Just rot and decay.

To see the moonlight once more.

The sun rise againe.

Feel the fresh unpoluted air.

Running free,through woodlands.

Free.

DOVES came swam with me.

Deers sat right next to me.

Trees bright & green.

Field after field of fresh green grass(HASH) MARK.

AND IT ALL SEEMS LIMETLESS.

IS THIS WHAT WE HAVE  BECOME.

OR IS IT IN THE POST.....?????

I WOULD LIKE TO EXPRESS MY APPRECIATION.

ANGELS OF DARKNESS

Raws from the angels.

Of death.

As they spawn & multiply.

Wings of darkness.

Shadow the alley ways.

And cast sillouets on the walk way.

Angels of the midst of shadeyness.

Haunting traces.

Left as they float about town.

Town desolet.

Scared anxious individuals.

Trying to hide, escape.

This darkness.

Which has enveloped.

This world.

For a while they pitty us.

"Were frowned upon."

SCOULED LOOKS.

From heads with blank eyes.

No eyes.

Just darkness.

Then the hard raine

FALL.

Theres no moon.

No light.

PART FROM THIS HARD RAINE....

With no precsent forces.

The majority of the human species.

Fell to the ground with.

A CLAP.

Eyeballs.

GREEN , BLUE, BROWN,...

Caked the stairwell ..

Of abandoned buildings.

Squemish, rat infested holes.

Of a street named.

CLAPHAM.

Still trying to work it out.

If you have an answer plesae contact me .

MY email is on my profile page.

So please contact me about this.

THY WHOLE OF THE LAW

Let it be thy whole of the law.

Let the flood flow.

Sewers shall overflow.

And let the flavour flood out.

That shall be the law.

No departed.

No deprived.

Non un-unified.
But tied.

UNITED we shall be.....?

OUR FAVORITE PLACE

Every time i see your face.

I remember a certaine place.

When ime by this place.

All i see is your pretty little face.

Every time.

I was on time.

I was the sour taste of lime.

I was so cold.

Whilst you made the sun,
just for fun.

But every time ime by this place.

I sit & replace.

Replase thoughts.

Coloured by mists.

Of your pretty little face.

Thoughts that departe  clouds.

And your shine beams down.

Not froozen beneath no more.

For i will love you forever.

moore.


(k.moore)

BUS-TARDS

The suspended animation of a bus.

So much fuss.

Borded the double deck bus.

Destination bus driver.

Take me there.

Yellow grapling bars for monkeys with one eye to swing & sing from.

Noise of afganistan under shock & awe (the engine).

Rattle & annoy.

As the bus climbs blue bell hill.

Like a pebble being rattled in an empty supper tennants can.

Ye old supper tennants.

One stop, two stop, three stop etc, etc.

When will this crual torture stop.

Will this jalopy of a motor shut the fuck up.

As it slowly drowns the sound of my ipod.

And that is wrong.

how can any one even contemplate ruining a mans music.

Its just not done.

In the horizon i see my destination.

Or is it my destin. ?

MUTED

I will be your voice.

Specific,clear,understandable.

I shall elaborate when asked..

Not told..

Mr and Miss muted.

I shall be as clear as crystal.

No stutters, no murmuring,.

Just a beautiful vibration you may feel.
as my voice reverberates

And enters and entertains the loss of speech .

Yes i know.

Society has sown your lips.

Rendering you .

Leaving you feeling inadequate, categorised.

Boxed and shelved.

Just keep quiet,

In the school, children become a product.

A product to full fill society's greed

Yea i know.

Its almost every where.

We have to be aware.

According to society's enforcement.

Ime up for the challenge.

Of society's pathetic little games.

Game of monopoly.

Monopoly of the sources.

Individual fucked upness

I will not shut up.

I will stand .

And have my voice.
As well as yours.

.

BASEBALL BAT ATTACK

Back in the 90s.

I am with chrystal.
snuggled up together.
feeling & sharing each others warmth.

Whilst on the living room sofa.

Before i know it, ime out cold.

Asleep & content.

I didnt here the front door.
being kicked in.

All i remember was gettting up from the floor.

Chrystal had to fill me up with the details.
I remember some of this night.
but only flashes.

As the mind with its ego defence mechanisms.
locks away the brutal attack.

What happend was.

Jason booted my door through.
baseball bat with both hands glued to it.

Smacks me to the left of my forehead just above my eye brow.
it knocks me.

I get up.

Only to be beaten to the floor againe.

Back on my feet.

Smashes me to the ground once againe.

Up kenny get up.

"PUT THAT BAT DOWN AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN"

Ime not worried.

Even though blood is pissing every where.
So much i can barely see as the claret runs from my forehead & scalp.

Ime hit againe by this devilish wooden baseball bat.

Ime now thinking hes gonna kill me.

On my hands and knees crawling, as this lunatic pownds the back of my head whilst crawling.

I need to get to my sword.

Which used to be at the end of my setee.

I WANDER, on all fours.

JASON STILL WACKING THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

I grab my sword but cant see as ime blinded by the loss of blood.

I take the sword from its sheath.

And start lashing out.

Catch this wanker on the arm.
hes cut.

And runs for his life.

L,  says " KENNY GIVE ME THE SWORD"
Thought i could trust him seing as we grew up together.

Then i realise,

Go to my cubourd grab a hammer and start looking for J.

Only to colapse from loss of blood.

But as i found out after being discharged from hospital.
That lee drove jason down to where i live.

I say " you was behind him why didnt you grab him from behind."

His answer was "kenny i was terrified"

OK.

Ime in medway hospital for 2 weeks.

Fractured scull,blood coming from my ears.

Head partly shaved with pads all round my head.
secured with bandages .

Stiched better than my grannys nitting.

I wander to the end of the ward.

Outside having a fag.

From the corner of my eye.

I see J. peeping.

"COME OUT HERE YOU CUNT"

J "NO YOU WILL STAB ME UP OR SOMETHING"

MUG "WHAT IME GONNA CARRY A BLADE IN HOSPITAL,GET OUT HERE"

J , "CRYING , WHAT HAVE I DONE"

I punch him ,nose bleeding.

He curls up.

I waid into him with boots to the head.

Then something in my back goes.

Ime in aggony.

But cant let him see it.

I say.

"FUCK OFF EVERY TIME I SEE YOU, YOU OWE ME.NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE"

Now ime in a wheel chair as my back went whilst kicking the shite from J.

Have a cat scan.
etc.etc

Round this time i was a heavy drinker.

Fuck it,with dressing gown on & looking like a car crash.

I walk out the med hospital to the nearist offie.

I buy a bottle of vodka.

Soon as ime back at the hospital.
the doctor.

SAYS "IF YOUR WELL ENOUGH TO GO BUY ALCOHOL, YOUR WELL ENOUGH TO GO HOME.

Fair enough.

No dramas.

Ime out of here.

GOOD BYE AND THANK YOU VERY FUCKING MUCH.

I return to my flat which looks like a murder seen.

Blue & white stripie tape corderd my flat off.

I go inside and cant believe what i see.

Blood is every where .
just as if buckets were thrown up the walls.
And my head became a sprinkler of not water but blood.

Horrific some might say.

SLASHES and dents in walls.
from the lash of my sword,.

Which i never saw againe as the police confiscated it.

When i was in hospital talking to this hero who was dieing from cancer.

Bless him, told me how to make a carbide bomb.

Which was going towards Jasons way.

to be continued.

THE PONCE

One of the most annoying, of all humaine beings.

Yes you got it ,the ponce.

Or greedy selfish fuck.
The story begins.

Yea is it ok for a smoke.

Ime not going to deny someone a fag.
Here you go.

Any hash to put in to it (the rolling tobaco).

YES no worries.

Thirsty now.

Got a drink.

fuck yea.

Hungry.

Bacon and egg sandwich.

There you go.

Something to wash it down with ?.

YEA got any booze.

On its way.

Another fag with hash.

You havent got a fiver i can borrow & never pay back.
Have you.

Of course.

Can i use your phone quickly to call my sister in australia.

Two hours later (off the phone now).

Ok to have a quick shower.

YES.

Any more alcohol.
Ime parched.

"Hang on."

"Are you not eating that bit of chicken left on your plate."

"No m8 ime full."

"Sweet ile have it."

Runs to a corner of my room.

Peeping at me now and then as the animal saveges the piece of chicken.
Its mine now ,all mine.
As it gives a gasely glare.

A look of panick.

Striken by thoughts of loss.

This was its meat.

It now owns this grusome, saveged piece of, chicken

It was rather barbarik.

I go to the loo.

Only to catch the scavenger.

Spraying my bottle of boss aftershave like its going out of fasion.

Ime getting wound up at this cruel greed.

I give a piercing look.

A look of discust.

It,leaves me to use the toilet.

FLush the bog.

Back to my living room.

The fuckers going through my roaches now.

Checking for any sighns of shrapnel,of bud left.

As the fucker has smocked all the hash.

DRUNK my booze.

Ate my food.

And so on.

Now the foul greed has been met.

Its,up streching.
Yawning. content on my behalf.

"Ok to pop round tommorow m8"

YES YOU GREEDY FUCK.

And right on cue the fucks back round.

And the same old story.

Untill that was.

I asserted myself.

And put a stop to it.

JESUS,i wasnt going to let this foul pig,dry me out.

FUCK NO.

The fucker would have the boxers of me if he could see them.

Can i shag your girlfriend.

But yea ponses or greedy people who think the world ows them,

Take,snatch,take,.

And its always one way traffic.

One day i was on my ass.

SKINT.

It, pops round i ask has he a rolly (ciggerate).

Ah, sorry m8 aint got any.

I only catch him out my window smoking as he walks off.

Walks off into the horizon.

And i hope he just keeps on walking.

FUCK IT IF YOU CANT FLY TO THE MOON, THEN FUCKING WALK IT.

Then youve got your tight fucks to.

 But thats another story.

DOWN IN MEDWAY

Down in medway.

Their black and  blue.

Pink with blonde perocsides too.

Clowns of gold.

hula hoop earings.

Oh down in medway.

Oi fuck off you.
you wanna talk about that.

Your not from round here.
ime scared of you.

But we dont talk about that.

falling apart classics.
Ide like to talk about that.

Talk over.
CRACK on crack pipes.

Shite on the lawn.

Violence in high streets.

And girls withdrawn from crack till dawn.

More crack on crack pipes.

With a little smack sprinkled on top.

But if your looking for a cheap song.

The med will entertaine you.

ILe be waiting.
As far as pos, to keep the fuck away from you .

OOOOH
DOWN IN MEDAWAY.

CUSTOMS FROM AFAR

Funny how they catch there tip off.
And take photos of cockiness.

As they proudly prescent 100 kilos of hash.

But never get the larger mule behind.

"YES WE HAD A MAGNIFICENT TIP OFF."

"LEADING TO THE CURRNET ARREST OF SO & SO."

"ALL IN ALL, TO OUR TRIUMPH".
"WE CEASED A STAGERING 100 KILO OF GANJA".

"BUT UNFORTUNETLY, LITTLE DID WE REALISE THAT BEHIND THIS SICK INDIVIDUEL,
WHOS UNDER A VEST .

NO,NO SORRY IT WAS A JACKET.

BUT YES 5 TONS OF HEROIN WENT PAST US ON A MADDA FUCKIN TRUCK.

"WHAT TO DA FUCK, TO DA FUCK"

"IME VERY PISSED OFFF ER NOW" FUCK

"WE TOO COULD NOT A BELIEVE IT"

"THE WOOL HAS BEEN PULLED ONCE AGAINE"

"thank you god bless, amen, god bless."

AND GOOD BYE......

RCK1
KENNY MOORE........

G-O-D

God if you do exist ime beaten.

So tired of being sick & tired.

A beaten worn out record.
That keeps repeating itself.

Over & over.

Cant take no more.

I shall joine the beat generation.

A group of people sickend by social boundries.

So called laws.

Men attempting to stand tall.
blueish uniform,black boots.
helmet,belt,cosh,peper spray,walkie talkie.
and plenty of back up.

Did these laws come by way of you.

As the church many yrs ago was thou law.

Brutel individuals.

Yes god you say that you are all loving.

Do me a favour and fuck offfff.

All you ever do is wind me up till ime pissed off.

IF you say,love all.
why not show some yourself.

Or are we the ones to do it all for you.?

Selfish rightness fucked up individual that you are.

People ask what has god done to you.
To deserve this slating.

Well basically fuck all.
Nothing.

Stting up there with his religions.most at war.

Absolutly brutal when the church ruled and governed and was the law.

Oh look she looks like a wicth.
Lets stick her under foul water.chained to heavy stones.
See if she goes under.& watch satan make this witch float back to the top".

How many exactly did float back to the top.?

NONE.

Just left to drown.

Stupid fool of course she will go under,twat.

Fuck yay lets burn her alive whooooo hoooooo.
Get in there, fucking brilliant.

Christianity biggest ponces on the planet.
The church all they want is your money.

OH and believe in me( may as well believe in pinnochioa)
And you shall enter my kingdom.
Heaven.

BUT dont believe & i will hate you & you will burn forever ha ha ha ha ha.
Sounds like a mad man to me.

FUCK OFF with your contradictive bible (which in jail comes in handy for rizla when one runs out)only fucking use it has.

The great almighty up there?.
Laughing at the religous wars.
That have occured in his name.

What a shame people dont listen.
Your mugs and little joeys,.
WHO are thick as a coil of shit.
Will find a false sence of security plus contentment.

for that people may as well drink your blood,or is it wine and become a alcoholic.

Not some stupid no body who no one has ever seen.

I COULD GO FOR HOURS PAGE AFTER PAGE.
but its starting to bore me.

PS IME NOT KNOCKING PEOPLES BELIEFS.
EVERY ONE TO THERE OWN.
IME JUST EXPRESSING HOW I FEEL RIGHT NOW,
MUCH LOVE TO YOU ALL.
KENNY MOORE,(NOT GOD)

Down on my knees.
With my hands in the air againe.

Waking up feeling lost & tearfull again.

I will never lose this paine.

Never quite dream of you againe.

Despretly fighting the demons inside of me.

Felling her touch once more would have frightend me (GHOST)

We was as close to marrige as can be.

Soul mates.

We had our up & downs.

But now chrystals gone.
Another tie undone.

 Dead chrystal your the poet in my heart.
Most beuatyful women i have had the pleasure to meet

You was all i ever wanted all i needed.

 And now that you are gone.
My paine still lives on.

We lived,made love,was best freinds aswel as lovers.

And no one could replace you.

almoust 16 yrs have past,.
And i know ile never lose this pain.

If only you were still here.

life would have some one to live.

Instead i just exsist.

.And live in bliss.

All for that touch ,laugh you had,so pettite and pretty.
I so miss your cuddles,arms intwined lovers running free.

We was so free,and ime pretty sure ile see your pretty little face again.

Then like most things in my life.

I get locked up.
Your out there on your own desprate,.

No one to turn to (lost her mother and father to cancer,brother jason found floating up the river medway)

Then came the big call.

Moore you are wanted at the chapel after lunch.

Alarm bells are going off in my head,a rush of anxiosness.(this must be serious)

I walk after lunch to the chapel.

Kenny moore (asks the priest).

YES.

Your mother is on the phone .

Hi mum hows things.

Mums crying and howling.

THROUGH  the telephone the whole prison stood still.hearing my mum whaling.

MUM whats wrong.

Kenny i want you to be strong,i will be down to visit you as soon as i can.

MUM what is it brunet (my dog).

PLEASE KENNY
.
MUM just tell me.

Chrystals dead.

I go numb.
cant think what to say.

Have nothing to say.just numb.

Priest asks do i want to talk.

No thanks i just want to go back to my cell.

walk on the wing,peter feny, oi kenny table tennis m8.

I wave my hand shake my head,suggesting no.

I feel as if ime in a fantacy world, (denial).

As soon as lock up.
as soon i cry.

ime looking outside through the iron bars,day dreaming.

A little bird lands on my sill outside of the bars.

Maybe thats a sign maybe thats chrystal.

But no shes gone,ile never feel the same.
Never feel her warmth as we both used to lay watching THE CROW.

TWO lovers intwined,heart body soul mind as one

Just as two drummers beating in time in rythum.
Was our heart as one.
United.

Before hand when chrystals father graham died of cancer (RIP) chrystal and i kept in touch by mail and visits.

We planned that upon my release from prison.
We were to be married,.

Chrystal had been left alot of money from her father left in a will.

I remember mum saying "kenny chrystal is lost with out you,i have never seen her so out of it all of the time."

My denial kicked in.

Not for one second did i think chrystal would die.

The sad truth chrystal died aged 20 from a drug over dose.

The last i saw of someone so carring understanding and beuatiful.

MONEY

And if you sell yourself.
It will,, be for money.

Youl get up at,, 5.am.
Just for money

You might end up,, in a jail.
And all 4 the want of money.

THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL.
THE CRUED.

Youl be a greedy fuck.
For your money.

yOU CAN SPLASH OUT.
Buy things.& think that your happy
With your dirty money.

DONT WANT NO MILLIONS.

Just peice of mind.

How crazy and mental we go all for the love of paper.

CHRIST how we addor that paper.

It becomes sad when ones partner puts paper with the queens head on it.
Before there loved ones.

Money can drive you to do the most horrific crimes.

Armed robbery,shop lift,sell drugs,prostitute ones self,fraud,violance,MURDER.

Anything to get there hands on that bit of paper.

And if you buy her a gift.
Shall be ,with your money.

The paper has control of you.

Without this fantastic paper you will die of starvation.hyperthurmier,sickness,bills to paper,gas electric,rent.
You name it money will get it.

Money cant buy me love ? look hard enough with paper in hand & you will find false love.

But isnt most false,does true love really exist, try looking up some psychology, no love just co-dependency.

Kill for the sake of this so called precious paper.

And one can never get enough.

In one hand out the other.

Some sad sickend people will sell their children for a piece of this paper.

How foolish can a man be to think he is so powerful.
So cool,yes ime rich and powerful.
As i have lots more paper than you.although my ticker is packing up and i can barely see.

FOOL.

Me i prefer the false forged money.

You see its al the one to me,let it be real money? or fake.
Its all the same.

Paper.

I COULD GO ON FOR DAYS WRITING WITH PAPER.

But ime not going to bore you,as i think you know.

Money what one will do for IT.

ISOLATION /karma

Do you ever feel that you belong.

Ever feel alone whilst alone.

Feel alone whilst in the company of others.

Sad inside.

Isolated.

Isolation,is part of life, i or we choose (some say).

BUT what about people who are gay.
Poor hidden secrets that tante & remind themselves of how wrong they are ?.BY THE BIBLE
So they isolate themselves.as these poor souls are who they are
It disgusts me to think of the HOLY BIBLE slating gay people,when SO CALLED GOD MADE US,

What a contradiction.

Anxiety another isolater.

Deprssetion,no motivation to leave the house.

Just sat at home thoughts running wildly through ones mind.

Most thoughts of a negative type.

Only worsens how i feel.

THINK NEGATIVE ,FEEL SHITE.

Act as if, think as if, feel as if & be.

A concept.

when was the last time you realy enjoyed yourself.

"Yesterday when i drank myself to sleep."

But thats me suppressing uncomfortable feelings.

Yes i am a doctor, as i self medicate.

Dont need no script of tablets to get me hooked.

Christ i do enough of that myself. so save your time.
MR doctor.

Oh yes at the week_end i went to a restraunt.
As much curry as you like £6.95.

Nearly ate myself alive.

Enjoyed myslf though.

Untill the moaning (morning).

Bubbles poping in my tummy.

And a rush a to the loo.

I wont go any further, as i think you know what happend.

Am i enjoying myself right this minute ?

Inbetween writing, guzzling vodka.
maybe i am happy.

But with nie on every good time has a consequnce.

Consequences, had enough of them.

Boerd me right out my concious conseqences.

TO many to go on about right now,but like i said before i shall revial all.

All the wrong doings,plus guess what. conseqences.

Every action we make has a consequence.

Let it be good or bad.

There is no escaping consequences.

No matter how hard you try, thie shall not escape.

Karma ,what goes around comes around,

You see karma is cunning.

you think you have escaped the cuffs of your doings,

But it will come back for you with great furosity.

As karma is a consequence in disguise.

UTOPIA THE LION

Hackney londen, summer time.

SS want me to go to see a forensic psychiatrist.

All well & good.

For them shills.

On the tube.
The london underground.

Can imagine all sorts of crime going on down er.

Jump a few tubes.
Arrive Hackney station, thank you very much.

Find my destination.

Ime knowing i shall be interigated by this FOREN-SICK PSYCHO.

At my destin i see high steel fencing.
Cammeras every where.

Ok ime on big brother, yes i see now.its a fucking nut house..

Smoke and finish then stub my cig out, bin it.

Buzzzzz.

Hello,yea its kenny moore,gotta an appointment with.
That PSYCO DR McKLINTOV.

"ok i shall buzzzzzzzzzzzzz you in."

WHAT THE FUCKS THIS buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,FUCK ELECTRIC SHOCK TREATMENT.


Not for me, thanks all the same.

I wander in past one door get checked by security..
Book in.

Waiting in anticipation.

Then "Mr moore"

No its cokooa the clown you foolish psycho.


Yes that is i.

Come through we have much to discuss and venture and we must dig very deep into you.

No ones digging deep in me. I know he wants to explore my mind,fellings,emotions.

The life story begins.

I let him know as he digs away how or how i think i felt whilst i was a child.


I am honest with him very much so.

But theres honesty and theres STUPIDITY.


I WILL now cut this long day very short.

The conclusion.

SS "do you consider mr moore to be suffering any mental health issues.

PSYHCO "in my proffetional oppinion i consider mr moore has a personality disorder of a general type.

GENNARAL TYPE, PLEASE TRY, BE SOMEWHAT MORE SPECIFIC

HONEST MIRROR ON THE WALL

Wooo who.
Mirrow, mirrow on the wall.

Be honest and tell me who is the fairist,most outstanding,beuatiful, thing of them all.

Well my.
It sure as fuck aint you.

Why is this (asks the so called lady).
As your vanity goes beyond, GREED.

What with your make up, plastic breasts, reconstrcted nose, liposuction of your foal greed,.
Draining you of your greed and so called need,yes you think liposuction will rid me of my indulgance.
ime not going on and on & on like you women love and addor.
But your plastic.

Your a disgrace.

Look at yourself HONESTLY.

All i see is beuaty.(shouts the so called lady)


All you see is trickery, nothing more.

You will believe that you are, as you said beuatiful.

Your denial annoys me some what you fool.

Look at me and look at me FUCKING HONESTLY.

Mirror, oh mirror please, i cant do it.

LOOK at me.

Your so so right.

I am an ugly sight.

Well that wraps that one up,.

Good to see women being honest.

PLEASE ACCEPT MY APPOLOGIES I AM NOT A WOMENISER,NOR AM I TRYING TO BE LITTLE WOMEN IN ANY WAY, FUCK I LOVE WOMEN, MUCH LOVE TO YOU ALL...


TO BE CONTINUED

ANXIETY

yesterday morning.

Wake up at my mothers.

Lois my daughter comes into her room.
Ime still laying in bed a wreck.

Can you pick me up from school today daddy.
Yes of course sweetheart.

I kiss lois good bye.

Flop back to bed under the duvet.

Something wakes me.
Startles me.
I am confussed thinking CHRIST IT MUST BE 3 OR SOMETHING IN THE AFTERNOON.

I crawl out of bed, down the hall way.
Peep through the side of the door.
10 in the morning.

Says the clock.

MUM asks me to put loises new flat fucking packed.
Dressing table together.

I sigh thinking i havent the energy for this shit.
But i will do my best.

On the first glance no numbering to indicate where what screw goes where.
For fucksake argos at least have the desency to mark your so called products.

I screw away putting this side there, there , there.
Wrong fucking way round.

Now i will be stressed sod it i am stressed fucking stressed.

MUM says leave it mathew will do it.
Leaving me feeling lousy, useless, no good to man nor beast.

Then i start to shake and sweat,everything is blurry.

This felling inside begins to erupt.
I feel like a kettle on a hob ready to boil over and explode.

My anxiety is all over me running through my arms leaving my fingers tingly.

Then like a flash of lightning ime over welmed by this satanic feeling that never leaves me alone.

I sit mums watching tv.
I am struggling not to cry. i feel so desprate.
I cant containe this powerful emotion any longer.

My nose is running my eyes streaming,

What the fuck is going on am i going mad.?

Wipe my tears try not to let mum see.
Stand and get ready for my journey home.

OR journy to the hospital let them know how i feel.
Maybe get sectioned.

The thought did cross my mind.

Ime on the bus now drinking k cider as quick as my stomach can handle it without throwing up.

After three cans my nerves begin to relax.

The beast has been tamed.

well for today it has.

But i know i will only have to wake up tommorow to go through the same shite.

AND NOW IME LEFT WITH THE GUILT OF NOT PUTTING MY SPECIAL LITTLE GIRLS HOUSE TOGETHER.

Why mum, WHY BRING ME INTO THIS FORSAKEN WORLD OF TERROR PAINE AND TORMENT, WHY MUM WHY ?

Me sitting on my pitty pot feeling sorry for myself.

The anxity was just as if some one had me playing russion rulet with five bullets in a six chamber barral.

But there was no gun just my addiction playing one of many of its trickery tricks for its own amusment.