You know, the more i keep re-reading this, the more i think it's great. So moved by it i am, that i have had to get drunk and stoned in front of my computer, which is possibly not a good idea, as i dont think computers and alchohol/drugs mix very well. However, i think i will go to bed tonight with the pleasure of a really dark fantsy about zombies and moonlight and some rural vilage out in the styx somwhere, whilst i am all snuggly and warm, wrapped up in my duvet.

As i have allready said, i really like this poem, and now i am just stating to waffle on, so i think i'd better leave it here.

I really enjoyed this.

Strange, dark, perhaps gothic.

"Born in the moonlight of the lane" is my favourite line.

And the images of the wandering dead are ace!

I just thought of something!

That cannabis leaf is going to get itself run over if its not carefull!

Wa hey!

Why is it,
That when you are pissed and stoned,
That gravity,
Seems to be such an overwhelming force,
Pulling you down,
Into the centre of the planet?

Thanks both.

"Whats wrong mate?"
I ask myself in the mirror.

"Why are you crying?

Come on soldier,
Chin up!

Lets get pissed on cider,
Flame a bit of herb,
And have loads of cuddles."

After some considerable time,
Several spillages,
And much amusement,
The first winds of winter,
Moaned through the window.

The curtains reared up for a second or two,
And my only friend,
Myself,
Vanished.

Emptiness and tears filled my chest,
And the air seemed as if it was all full of skeletons.

Daisy Daisy give me youre answer do,
I'm half crazy,
Da da da dum da doo.

Just be yourself and say what you think.

One Day,
Jesus stole a fortune,
From a native tribe.

He gave the money to Mohammed,
Who spent it all,
On drugs and bombs,
And Abraham,
Took the profits.

Woof! Woof! Woof!

Thanks.

In the coals of books,
Private,
But not hidden,
EMBEK the scorpion god rises.

He takes my enemies,
With venom,
Directly in the heart,
And in an instant,
Frees me from the prophets,
And the stupidity of man.

Oh EMBEK!,
In the coals of books redeem me,
Make my spirit pure,
And my words,
Poisonous.

Thanks both for your responses.

I killed a man tonight.

So overpowering was the hunger to taste the flesh.

With a knife and fork i stripped the flesh from his bones.

At first the taste was sweet and juicy.

Then there was a horrible aftertaste,
A bit like religion.

I guess human meat doesnt suit me,
It's so difficult to digest.

I dont fancy spending a few hours again,
With my head down the toilet,
Vomiting.

Killing this guy just wasnt worth it.

Its been a huge dissapointment.

Human meat is fit only for dogs.

What a wonderfull day it is,
To burn the Koran.

The birds of freedom are singing,
As my toes curl up with pleasure,
In anticipation of the bonfire of the filth.

This book cannot burn alone though.

Both the soiled Bible and the Tawdry Torah,
Must take their places each in turn,
In the flames of purification,
With gasoline disdain,
And spit.

Maximum disrespect to the all the prophets,
Of hate,
Intolerance,
Mind Controll,
Deceit.

Carefully,
Quietly,
Slyly,
He abuses the child of three years.

Jesus,
Abraham,
Mohammed (peace be upon him),
He invokes them,
As the intercourse takes place.

When the child is grown,
And he is damaged,
Send him to the hell house,
To pain him,
And to suffer him.

He will not know the evil behind the smiles,
He will not know free thought,
He will be a pawn,
In the sickness of humanity.

Thanks for you're comment.

I aslo enjoyed you're poem because it was bitter and sarcastic.

I really enjoyed the last two quatrains and final untrain (Unatrain?) of you're poem. I'm on Cipralex, Risperidone, Marijuana, and alcohol myself, but i also have invisible friends that i talk to, and they are my best friends ever!

(God i hope i dont regret this comment in the morning!) It's 01:02 UK time here in blighty.

PS. I also think i am a werewolf