The Cracked Red Mist

Get up, shower, climb under the cloud.
Someone stalls at the lights
Youths dawdle slowly in front of the car
Looking you straight in the eye
The ‘Red Mist’ descends
After that…there’s no reasoning.
Fight or flight as nature intends

Gesticulating wildly from my safe glass cocoon
Windmill arms, face contorted like a goon
The anger is inexorable; “Move, MOVE!”
I want to drive straight through
They’re going at the limit, what can I do

Everyone hates everyone else so
Hostility and intolerance always on the go
“He’s so fucking stupid, she’s an ugly bitch
Look at them, what dickheads they are
And that bloke, the one with the twitch!”

Syrupy sweet, insincere; “Oh, that’s a lovely skirt!”
Then phrased so different; they didn’t know you’d heard
Shake my head, just walk away
Tired of it all, it’s the same every day
Too many acts in just one play

Irony bleats unheard through the ranting
“Go home Pakis! Piss off you Jew!
Here, we’re just red, white & blue!”
Slouching orange girls with peroxide hair
Dressed in La Coste; they’re knock off la!
Trainers made in Malaysia
You can’t tell them though, why should you dare?

Shoes patiently queued by the door
What are they waiting for; passing feet?
Some might never even get a wear
But we need them don’t we, must be seen
To be able to buy designer, sweetie.

Don’t read The Daily Mail, the Guardian too
No space here for your soap box ‘do’
Immigrants, single mums and yobbos
Who’s to blame; Governments? Schools?
Anyone but our dear selves you hear.
Take fucking responsibility!
It’s not our fault, they sneer

Technology’s success is its failing
Fraud, corruption, malice, porn,
Children devoid of any innocence
Now available straight to you on the global theatre!
Book now! Buy one, get one for free!

Everywhere you go; blame and claim
Free loans, free credit, there’s no shame!
You know you want it, you want it now!
Can’t wait, can’t save!
Can’t pay it back? See Sharky Dave.

Noisy neighbours, parties till dawn
No need for sleep or any concern
Coked up too, it adds to the potion
Brain tries to function, beer drowns the notion
Drive to work; the day is a blur

As Jim and the lads cynically crooned
‘Trade in your hours for a handful of dimes’
Try to look clever, reading The Times
Gotta look busy, paperwork dizzy!
No time to stop and cry

Gaze in the mirror in a dingy office loo
My reflection stares back with dead eyes
It turns away with disgust
And your soul leaves the room with the flies
Where’s the spark gone?
The gusto, the passion, the zest?
There’re cracks all over! I’m going to break!
I feel it right here in my breast.

The Cracked Red Mist


Liverpool, United Kingdom

  • Artist

Artist's Description

The ramblings of a cynical mind

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