BRADFORD MIDDLETON

BRADFORD MIDDLETON

A RAZOR TO CONTEMPORARY POETRY

These last few years I’ve read a lot

A lot of poetry that tries to be worthy

Rebellious and righteous but then

The poetic A-bomb dropped in the

Shape of a razor, a nasty thrilling work

That told me of old dead Darby Crash

And the ubiquitous Bukowski

All in one book and I knew it was real

As six weeks after it landed I was

Still working my way through it

Unable to read more than ten pages

At a time as his words moved me

Made me think and ultimately question

The validity of our contemporary

Poetry landscape

There are others who are good but none

Reach the standard of those words

Written under the title ‘Better than a Gun

In a Knife Fight’ which is wholly unfair

And a little wide of the mark as I think it

Is more appropriate to say if he walked into

A room filled with the establishment poets

It should have been called ‘Better than an A-bomb in

A schoolyard brawl’ as his words are so much more

Just real and honest and so very strong

THE BITTER END

It had been the longest of days

At the shit-tip called work

When she threw herself at me

Pleading forgiveness for sins she now regretted

And she knew right away the way to my heart

With the simple offer of a drink in a nearby bar

That all seems so long ago now

Yet in reality only six months have passed

That night she told me stories of peyote

And of losing her mind in Mexico City

It wowed me as so often the mad ones can

As they dance to the disco beat inside their head

Then things got heavy as she became part of my life

The one and only real friend I thought I had

As she dismantled any trust I had in my dearest of friends

A couple of months in and the bomb went off

And some how I knew it would never be the same again

But on we stumbled towards the end

Then one night I slipped up and unleashed her fury

She told me straight that this was the end

And it wasn’t because of what I had said

But simply because she hates too much and for that we can never be friends

If I see her now she could plead and beg but I’ll just tell her

In the easiest of ways fuck off you blew it good riddance until the end

FUCKING LOVE

Am I ready for love again?

Or am I just horny to fuck?

I kind of know but I finally found hopefully, maybe, probably one to find out with and maybe just maybe I’ll be proven wrong.

But then again maybe this one is another user as I search my pockets for change to buy yet another round

Wondering why she keeps telling me she likes me whilst she openly and passionately kisses her boyfriend

BRADFORD MIDDLETON

BRADFORD MIDDLETON: He was born in London in 1971 but eventually found himself in Brighton in 2007 and began writing.  Since then he has over 250 unique publications, including a novel from New Pulp Press and a couple of poetry chapbooks from Crisis Chronicles Press and Holy & Intoxicated Press.  His work is dotted all over the internet and in several magazines and journals.  He tweets occasionally @beatnikbraduk and is on facebook at bradfordmiddleton1.