29 September 2011



Is there life before death

For the Facebook fantasist?

Can you become a goddess,

A revenant vampire,

Shape shifting lycanthrope,

Or a poet – philosopher

Phantom publisher,

Or a movie producer

From the comfort of your own keyboard?

Is life reduced to an onanistic fantasy

Pre digested for modern man

And picked from the shelf

Of your Amazon wish list?

‘I am a druidic snake charmer,

The high priestess of Isis’

Is ‘I am’ the only qualification needed

For a rainbow of delusional existence

In a fabricated simulation of a life?

I read it somewhere – therefore I am.

If you adopt a fictional identity,

Do you become a fiction?

Do you live the lie you love?

Do you become the lie you live?


Chump For Change


One day I’m gonna show you

What kind of man I am

I don’t know what I’ll do yet

I haven’t formed a plan

I might take you to the river

And drown your sorry arse

I might stab you or shoot you

Leave you in a shallow grave

I may just settle in the end

For rearranging your face

It’s not that I hate you

I really don’t give a damn

It’s just that you deserve it

And I know that I’d enjoy it

Yes, one day I’m gonna show you

What a useless article you are

And how fragile life really is


Gun image by Andy Warhol


28 September 2011

Leaving Here Today


Gonna leave this planet boy

This place is killing me

I gotta get outta here

Gotta make myself free

I hate the people here

And their mindless brutality

They’re full of hate and fear

They just will not let me be

So I gotta get away

They’re too cool to believe in god

But they fear him anyway

Can’t face no firing squad

I’m leaving here today

They kill and then applaud

As if they were at play

Humanity has been outlawed

I don’t think that I can stay


25 September 2011

Astro Man


I am the Astro Man

Mother universe’s son

My hair is strung with stars

My eyes shine like the Sun

My Left Hand holds Venus

My right hand holds Mars

I’m a cosmic genius

And I’m the only one


23 September 2011

Little Axe


Felled by the fathers axe

Cut into conformist lengths

Stacked in cords of uniformity

The only escape is to chop him down

We must murder the father

Take our axes and cut him into pieces

And plant him in the ground

He visited his sins on you

So you would grow no taller

Than your peers

And you in turn will murder

You children by degrees

Unless you cut him down

They say that mighty oaks

From tiny acorns grow

They say a man shall reap

Exactly what he’s sown

You better use your axe

Before he uses his

You better chop him down

Or make his fate your own


22 September 2011

We must meet again


You checked out early

I thought we’d have time

To tip one more glass

And have us a blast

But you were gone my friend

It’s written in the sand

It’s whispered on the wind

All things must pass my friend

But if what goes around

Comes around

Then we must meet again


Sticky Brown Shit



This here is the sticky brown shit

From the mountains of Afghanistan

Processed in the pleasure domes

Of the mythic Xanadu

Once you touch it

You cannot put it down

It will send you into orbit

On a silver strand of ecstasy

Smoke it and watch

The diamonds roll from your eyes

Lick it from the spoon

And you will float off to Venus

On gossamer balloons

Whatever you want

I can turn you on

I breed crack monsters

And puff whores

You know why they call it blow

Don’t you?

Because it will blow your mind

It will send you radio rental

It’ll squeeze your lemons

Until you cry

It’ll melt your bones

It’ll bleed you dry


20 September 2011



A tangerine sunset

Casts the long slanting shadows

That contain the embryonic night

Houses, peach washed, reflect gold

From their smiling windows

Cool air infuses corpuscles and fibre

With an easy exhilaration

The evening song of twittering friends

Turns to hush

And the world is suspended

In a moment that stretches into eternity

And you – you are a fragment of infinity

Connected to the sky and earth

By invisible figments

Time stands as still as your heart

And you can eclipse the sun

With an outstretched hand

You are mightier that that minor star

Whose death gives birth

To the glorious mystery of night


19 September 2011

The Beast Within


The people who live in the dark

plot their schemes on invisible charts

Intrigue and unsavory intent

Sustain the bitterness and bile

That bends their worlds out of shape

They crawl on their bellies beneath

a darker sun

Servants to the lesser gods

Twisted beyond reason

Wronged by the world

The worms that eat at their insides

whisper a litany of injustice

and call for revenge served neat

on dirty broken platters

Who taught these dogs to bite?

Who placed such hatred in their hearts?

Was it Satan? Or was it mom?

Who placed the mantle of corruption

on their shoulders

and anointed their brows with spite?

Who knows – who cares

where the beast within was born?


Illustration by William Blake


16 September 2011

Child Of The Light


When first I saw the light

It seared white in my eyes

And opened them to the sky

It burned all my woes to ash

All weight was lifted from me

And I realized for the first time

I could fly like a bird

I keep sunshine in my pockets

So that I can step light

I keep music in my heart

So I can concentrate on feeling fine

My bio luminescence keeps me right

I am now a rainbow and the universe

Is reflected in my myriad colours

I am a child of the light

Stars shine from my eyes

My head is filled with the cosmic

And I tread the path of righteousness

For my own names sake


14 September 2011

Fun & Games

Kids playing with water from hydrant, Lower East Side, 1978

Tea tray toboggans

Bamboo swords

Banzai war cries

Rat – tat – tat

Tommy guns


And commandos

British bulldogs

Chinese burns


And Indians


And seek


And nurses


And Games


A lifetime


On My List


I made a list

Of folk I will not miss

You are at the top

I’d place the pennies on your eyes

I’d dance on your grave

If I only gave a shit

I’ll remember you

As someone I can’t recollect

So don’t come round here

Looking for absolution

I don’t get off on forgive and forget

I won’t turn another cheek

From now on I do unto others

Before they do unto me

Jesus wants me for a smoke screen

But I won’t fall for that

If the meek inherit the earth

It’ll be because it’s fucked

Just like you are


13 September 2011

Like A Dagger


I abandoned rhyme

As I abandoned reason

I like my words jagged

As crocodile teeth

Dirty as a whore’s tongue

Rabid as the breath

Of infected dogs

That rut in the street

I don’t require prettifying

Or disinfecting

Keep those nice words

For old ladies

To sprinkle on their cakes

I want you to feel me

In you

I have no time

For ambiguity

Or tickling ears

I want to ram my words

Right down your throat

One day I’ll find the beat

That forces the rhythm

Of my concoction

Into your heart

Like a fucking dagger


12 September 2011



The murderous little bastards

Which infest your mind like cancers

Are the spawn of your aspirations

The broken and twisted chimeras

That dance to unheard music

Blown through empty horns

Forming the nightmare patterns

Of your dreaded mortality

How terribly mundane

They turned out to be

The print that was once indistinct

Is now etched clearly on your forehead

The mark of the beast reads “FODDER”

You are meat for the machine

As a boy you cowered beneath the sheets

Frightened by imagined spectres

In the unholy mystery of darkness

Now you know that the real monsters

Can only be seen in the light

Are reflected in mirrors

And in the ache of defeat

But don’t take it too hard

You were only a man


8 September 2011



I am a fallen angel

Cratered and crucified

On the cross I fashioned

From my broken dreams

A man acquainted with sorrow

Tempered by ill fortune

Grown cold as tombstones

Filled with those lesser graces

That dark companions make

My battered books are overdue

My treasures are tarnished black

This sepulcher walled up from within

Contains the remains of my days

Reserved in everlasting chains

Under darkness unto the judgment day


Illustration by William Blake from the First Book of Urizen


7 September 2011



The silent wheels of time

Made of me a man

Without me ever knowing

The change had come to pass

No more the childish demands

Of my youth

My time has come at last

I squandered all my summers

Chasing butterflies

The butterflies are gone now

In the autumn of my life

I squander all my rainy days

Thinking of times past


6 September 2011



In the grip of melancholia

There’s a faint satisfaction

The scornful majordomo

That tells you “I told you so”

You thought you’d never

Sing the blues again

But there’s a kink

In your nature

A chink in your armour

You can’t resist

The seductive siren song

That takes you down


There’s a bitter reassurance

In that familiar tasting poison

That’s heavy in the head

And heavy in the heart

There’s comfort to be found

In your weapon of choice

The blade that lets blood

That drains the spirit

The blade takes you down

The path of least resistance

Down to misty wet gardens

Where you just don’t give a damn.

2 September 2011

Can you see me now?


I could feel your eyes on me

Your cold, dead eyes on me

I could feel the spittle

From between

Your clenched teeth

Spray against my cheek

I could hear your words of hate

Feel your fists slam into me

All I want to know is

Can you see me now?

Can you see me

Set the stars alight?

I’m beyond your reach

But I always was

Can you see me now?

Did you ever see me?