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The Scum Gentry Alternative Arts and Media
The Scum Gentry New Poetry Magazine, dark poems and poetry online.

This is My Life - poem by Mark McConville

Cocaine nightmares and hopelessness bind together,
To create a broken mind
And I’ve been sinking deeper into the abyss that I call depression
I can’t withstand the inner unhappiness and tendencies
I’m hooked on misery, serving up cocktails of pills to myself,
To try and drown out the unnerving memories.


She’s stuck in my mind like a splattered fly
Shovelling narcotics near the receptors
And my eyes flicker and I feel manic,
And mesmerised by daytime television for the first time
In my life.


There’s a man on there, saluting me for my actions,
As I climb this mountain in my head
It’s so high, I’m so high,
Looking outside this window,
Bellowing at fast cars and people fuelled on caffeine.


I sit back and begin to see dots
And faces of ugliness
I can’t begin to rationalise with myself,
I feel incomplete searching for the missing piece
Of the frame, of the puzzle, to click myself back into place.


I see nightmarish goblins now, showing their toothless mouths,
Their acid tongues and their sharp nails,
I’m frightened but also curious,
Do they bite?


I want to sleep away the poison and disconnect from unholy spirits
I want to be judged for my mental instability
And I fear I’m truly lost in isolation,
In a room with peeling paper and stacked up beer cans


This is my life.



Bio: Mark McConville is a freelance music journalist from Scotland. His work has appeared online and in print. He also loves to write dark poetry and fiction.


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A Corner Turned - poem by John D. Robinson

‘You were collapsed in
the heap of shit that you
are, I found you when I
came home from work
at the bottom of the stairs:
our neighbours had tried
to rouse you and didn’t
know whether to call an
ambulance, you’re
beginning to become a
fucking mess and it’s
hurting me and I can’t
love you, it’s horrid’
she told me across the
cafe table; I was shaky
and couldn’t look at her,
I was self-pity and
pathetic and wondered
why she even bothered;
‘I thought you were dead,
neighbours thought
that too, they were
frightened, I was
fucking frightened’ she
said;
I looked into her eyes and
reached out a hand, she
looked down and then
away, she breathed
deeply and closed her
eyes before taking my
hand;
‘You’re killing the both
of us’ she said,
tightening her grip,
fighting back the tears.



John D Robinson is a UK poet: hundreds of his poems have appeared in the small press and online literary journals: his latest publications are ‘The Pursuit Of Shadows’ (Analog Submission Press (UK)2018) ‘Hitting Home’ (Iron Lung Press (USA)2018), while ‘Echoes Of Diablo’ was published by ‘Concrete Meat press’ (UK) in August 2018.



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Cometh, the Hour, Cometh the Dame - poem by Kevin Higgins

The fucking dame is fucking furious
and not fucking having it
fucking up is fucking down
fucking in is fucking out
fucking master is fucking slave
fucking Palestine is fucking never
fucking Goliath is fucking David
fucking catapult is fucking atom bomb
the fucking wall was fucking built
to keep the fucking Arabs off
the fucking land fucking snatched
fucking fair and fucking square


and if you lot dare
say I stalk about the fucking
House of Commons spitting
words like ‘fucking’ or mention
the fucking bust of fucking Lenin
I fucking bought and fucking placed
in Islington Town fucking Hall when
I was first elected fucking queen
you’ll be hearing from
the fucking lawyer my fucking hubby
gifted me our first night together
sincerely fucking yours, Margaret Hodge



Kevin Higgins’s Song of Songs 2:0 - New and Selected Poems will be published by Salmon Poetry in April. His poems have been quoted in The Daily Telegraph, The Times (UK), The Independent, and The Daily Mirror. The Stinging Fly magazine recently described Kevin as “likely the most read living poet in Ireland.”



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