How Time Flies

Rushing and speeding

Our lives seem fleeting

Not caring who we run down

In the process of time cheating


Anxious to get

From one minute to another

Not a moment to spare

Or to take time for one another


Hurrying and shoving

No time to waste

Not even for love

Due to our relentless pace


Pushing and running

Towards the ends of our lives

But complaining in turn 

About how our time flies

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You decide… please leave a comment

You decide… please leave a comment

By jfarrell


I will be 50 in 2 weeks (23 december);

Should I have a party? Celebrate?

Cast your votes now please.


And not a joke….

My friend’, I asked, I gonna have party will you come?…


“yeah, I’ll happilly come to your party, I’m your best friend….

But don’t be negative, at your party.”….

He’s the one calling people names,…

But I’m the negative one?

Party cancelled.


But life,

Prospects, dreams have changed since then;

So very few weeks ago.


It used to be said ‘life begins at 40’;

Is 50 the new 40?

I’ve spent 20 years overdosing, hanging cutting my coward wrists

To not be here for 50!


It’s clear I’m incapable of decision…

So like Big Brother….

You decide, cast your votes…

50th birthday party?

Yes or no?

Please leave a comment


Author's Notes/Comments: 

is the glass half empty or half full?.... 50th birthday.... something to celebrate with pride or drown in a vodka bucket full of hate and spite? i've already told you i'm incapable of a grown up decisiion ;-)

Wake up

Wake up



(“woke up, fell outta bed…. dragged a comb across my head”…. the Beatles)


…... calling JIM! Are you receiving? Over!….


Taking hits from everywhere…

My stolen starship hitting venus hard….

Gonna get a little ‘dusty’ this mission…


All I heard was …

“multi-billion dollar…..”


Must have been on dinner break when they were telling us about the security…

Don’t matter now…

That rocket blast…


Bring….bring…cock a doodle doo


CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blackness, blinding light…


Racing my dinosaur…..

Mountains…. rivers…. battles…. shiny swords….


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!bong a gong dingity BONG!!!!!!!!!!!!





“fred’s sick again? REALLLY?!”






I saw the magic sword and dived for it….

Blood, guts,  friend, brother, family….

Nothing, but a mass grave…


So exhausted…

I stand

And face my enemy with determination and…




Bing a ling a blooody ling!!!! wake up!



“What’s that you say, Lassie?…

Skippy, popeye and rin-tin-tin (whoever he was)

Got stuck down a well?….


Here’s a convenient phonebooth…

One tick, lemme get me cape on….

Superslug saves the day….



Things have gone sideways….

And we are now executing plan nine….

(... where the  hell is my supervisor…

I so not authorised for this….)




As I lie,

Twitching in my sleep…

Holding off the barbarian hordes….


A door opens in my left sole,

And 2 little dudes run out…

Plug the crank shaft into a hair-hole…


Wind like the devil was blowing a fire up their ar….


I sneeze and wake up….

And my left ankle, so bloody itchy….



Gonna be late for work.



“And we’re off…..!!!

Great work everyone…

Xept fred, tell fred he’s fired….!”





Author's Notes/Comments: 

i did...eventually.... wake up.....

just wish i couod rememeber wher i parked my dinosaur

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Where is your mind at?

Where is your mind at?

By jfarrell


Rolled up my trouser leg… been hurting lots…

To see a golf ball-sized swelling on my shin….

You think you’d have noticed…

Swelling that big, when you hit it,

It must have hurt.


And I haven’t got a clue…

Duracell Donkey…

Working 12-16 hour days;

Midnight finishes; 4 am starts;

Not enough sleep.


I walked out of work today…

“You don’t wanna pay me? I don’t wanna work. Bye.”

And I feel really, REALLY proud of that..

Maybe I can still be a “man” someday…



Lost a days wages…. but… more importantly….

WTF did I do to my leg????????

I ain’t kidding.. killing me for days, but looked fine;

Hurts to walk, but I gotta work….

Looked to day… WTF??? golf ball??


My journey to work today, on the tube….

Well… “on the tube”….

Plugged into music….

Fighting space battles on the edge of the galaxy….

Starting revolutions ….

Giving in to the inevitable, pushing the button…

I, President of the….. start WWW3…

Welcome to the party ;-)




Queen - ‘flash’

You know the guitar riff… them lyrics, the beatles, need I say more?…

Men at Work - “It’s a mistake”….


Mixed in with some ‘hey, joe’, nine inch nails, dire straits…

John lee hooker, robert johnson…eric clapton….

…. and….

Eminem keeps wanting to join the party…

And I am VERY tempted ;-)


Being a depressive…

Trying to stay ‘positive’ and ‘upbeat’…

I skip him and a few great songwriters and guitarists right now….



Where TF are you????? knock knock…. reality shouting really LOUD!!!!



To hurt it like that… and not notice…




We’ve all been there.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

i bashed my leg against a lot of things this week.... i'm a drunk, i'm clumsy and being doing it for feking ages.....

but... seriously....

you'd think... to have that big aa swelling....  it would have hurt when you done it

and you'd rememeber it



I am counting the stars.


Counting how many nights I’ve stayed up hours too late

for someone who will never wake up for me.


Counting on the inevitable truth that I will stop regretting, stop living in the past.


Counting out loud now so maybe someone will know how my mind works, take enough of an interest in it to tell me their name.


Counting the heartbeats and choices that had to line up so in the fall a little past midnight I would find people that got me.


Counting the hours we spend without sleeping, before I really know you, before I really know anything.


Counting on seeing you, day to day, laughing at the things no one would say but you.


Counting the times I walk next to you but never really catch up, never let you look at me.


Counting the pause between you leaning back and running my hands through your hair, you don’t have to push me to fall.


Counting the nights I sit watching you think and cry and agonize, the ways you trust me, the ways I wish I could wish it all away.


Counting the decisions we make every breath, things we know we can break, sitting there shivering until it’s harder to stay than to leave, looking out over the stars.


Counting the love that comes in threads so I don’t leave when I should.


Counting the shards of your skin to make them into habits I might hold for a while.


Counting the times I do not breathe do not blink do not stay here for me but for you.


Counting the ways we scrape, the ways we work.


Counting the ways to word this…

you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 11/7/17

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At The End Of My Rope

Stuck in this place

Full of empty space

Where the deafening silence

Awaits a verbal embrace


Just one utterance of hope

To be given the strength to cope

And I will unwind the noose

From the end of my rope


Just one ray of light

To regain my sight

To be able to be set free

 From all of the anger and fright


Unable to bear

This mask of shame I now wear

To keep living this lie

That anyone will even care


But now it’s too late

My feet now fully off the crate

And my body is now free


From my minds loathing and self hate

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Marathon Man

Marathon Man

By jfarrell


(classic of a film, but this ain’t related to that….

 Sorry. Still, a classic film)


I left for work 5am yesterday;

Got back 1am today;

16 hour waiting/running shift;

And long, cold (bloody freezing) wait for bus.


And I’m scared to sleep;

Gotta leave for work in a few hours;

If I went to bed now,

I dunno if I’d hear my alarm clocks ( all three of them.)




Writing something just made more sense

Than sitting there moaning about how tired I was.


I can’t run like Dustin Hoffman, or Forrest Gump;

(Run, Forrest, run….;   )

But, I can drink gallons of coffee, chew caffeine pills like Popeye

And finish my marathon with my eyes held open with matchsticks ;-)


Have a really fantastic day Everybody ;-)


Author's Notes/Comments: 

duracell bunny wags its tail, scared to stop in case it falls asleep and can't wake up, hehe

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio



By jfarrell


Me, I’m lucky;

I still gotta roof over my head (just);

Unlike the several poor souls I passed;

Wrapped in cardboard, in shop doorways


On my way home from work;

At 3am;

With last night being so cold and wet as it was;

I may forget it often, but I am




Even luckier than the chief executive,

Who’s getting £90 million bonus, this year;

So much responsibility;

All that money.


Seriously; I’d drink it, maybe buy a toy, and get bored with it;

The dude who is getting it… why…

He’ll use the money - new house, cars, holidays;

He’ll spread it around, recirculate it.




I do what I can; couple quid here, cup of coffee there;

On £7.50 an hour (£8.50, if I get a ‘rich’ booking)

There’s too many for me to feed.

But, I do what I can.


The difference between me and that executive?

He’ll buy things, spread it around; more people would benefit;

I’d drink it, and still only give a few quid here and cup of coffee there;

I may have a ‘good’ heart, but I’m a drunk.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

i've kknown sleeping on the streets - i'm lucky and i don't wanna go back there, and my heart cries out to those who have to sleep out tomight, in this weather

In loco parentis

In loco parentis

By jfarrell


The October, before my CSE’s…

My ‘parents’ went on strike;

My children’s home was closed, overnight….

Very violently.


I cut my ties with my family, that night; forever;

And my coursework, homework projects and text books

I didn’t realise the ashes floating past me was my future;

I didn’t even know a fire had been started.


Who’d worry bout all the ‘A’ grades they were expected to get;

Who’d say goodbye, forever, to mum, dad, and younger sister?

Who’d be so arrogant? So stupid?

A 15 year old kid, scared of growing up to be his dad?


I have always been my ‘in loco parentis’;

You see a nearly 50 year old man;

I am 6 years old, trying to talk my dad outta beating me

Learning that the ‘very free sweets, toys and comics’ have a price;



My parents were not fit enough!

And the children’s home…. I need parents… politics? Strike?

In this world, this life, that has never made any sense….

How have I done? As a parent?


I think, I’d have had me locked up, long ago.


Not fit, to be near children….

Or anyone.





Author's Notes/Comments: 

i wasn't much of a brother when our children's home closed... or long before then..

my staying away from her and her family now, makes me the best brother ever...

but, it doesn't make it right

and nothing ever will...


this is poetry, not psychotherapy, or drunks are us....

i reeeeeeeeaaaaaallllllly love you... go on, give us a kiss....