31 October 2011

Cabbage White


nothing corrupts a boy
like his father’s love
a few blows here ‘n’ there
some bruises,a little blood
and a thousand humiliations
cause you're a useless cunt
you're shit, you're a prick
an’ you’re  fuckin’ thick
words that trampled my heart
like his big work boots
his filthy, ugly boots
I looked for a place in the shade
closer to the cool earth
while fire poured from the sky
but it wasn’t as hot as his words
there was butterfly illuminated
in a corridor of light
it was nothing very special
an ordinary Cabbage White
but it was beautiful to me
I’d have joined him in his flight
I’d have gladly run away
but that could never be
and so I had to stay

29 October 2011



I once knew a guy, a square, who would unfold his elbows to disgorge great chunks of scripture from his ugly fissure of a mouth. He claimed to be an artist and a writer – a literally terrible Baudelaire under the influence of an evil river of semantic bullshit. I used to abhor the sound of his voice and his predictable Boy Scout denouement.

This bead twisting bastard considered himself to have been appointed God’s lawyer. His mission was to weed out and pull down the atheistic, agnostic blasphemer hounds of hell that kept bad company and cluttered up the corridors of hope. They only tripped up the unsuspecting with their weed, speed and jumping Jack Kerouac; preventing them from reaching a state of grace in God’s red white and blue heaven. It was his task to usher, forcibly if needs be, the vile unbelievers into the glowing light of HIS love. To this ends he would grind out sermons on every subject from evolution and the ‘monkey fallacy’ to homosexuality and AIDS as a judgment of the Lord.

He was a loathsome little bigot of a man who pulsed negative energy in every direction, but worse than that he was a complete drag who could banish a smile at three hundred yards. One day I spiked him with cyanic acid and stuck him in the freezer to cool off – I turned him into a Popsicle; bitter almond flavoured.



25 October 2011



There are no free lunches, there are no free rides. Experience is paid for with the sharpest of currency and often in blood. We gamble all and ultimately lose, for the game is rigged that way. There is no point in complaining, our only failing could be that we had simply not wagered enough. When it comes to experience it is far better to have been a spendthrift than a miser; to have been prodigal, than left wanting.

24 October 2011



All truth is manmade. We make the truth; there is no truth that we did not create. Truth is dangerous, be careful with it. Truth can set you free, it can burn you too. Mostly truth is one big lie. The one big lie that ties you down, that draws you under. Beware of truth; truth is an imposter. Truth is stranger than fiction and usually less probable. They say that the truth will prevail, but it just isn’t so. Just as every lie contains a kernel of truth, so every truth is made of little white lies. Of course you should always tell the truth as you see it, but remember that one man’s truth is another man’s lie.


23 October 2011



Between thought and motion lies a lifetime of indecision. Between impulse and action lies an eternity of procrastination. We live in the angles between those split vacillations; locked in the prisons formed by our accommodations, shut out by our deferrals and postponements. We are exiled to nations of the yea or nay behind the wire of choices, judgments’, compromises and reconciliations. Isolated from our feelings by other considerations; our final adjudications are questions of reason. There are a thousand judges awaiting our every verdict. The sentence is mandatory for acts of treason.

In the distance between the thrower and the stone cast lies an ocean of experience and shared guilt. Behind every curse there is concealed a blessing; a secret prayer for atonement through condemnation. Just as in every question lurks the desired answer, so every answer is a masquerade of some unasked question. Life is an island in an ocean of questions – questions and answers separate us into archipelagoes of existence.

21 October 2011

Love is the law

That electric prickle of awkward instance pierces my skin like tiny dragons teeth and rains down on my head like bags of hammers. I stand embarrassed before the blank ignorance of my judges – speechless at their presumption. I am an innocent man. The crimes I committed were acts of love. They say that I’m a user and a lowlife dog, but I’m just wild that’s all. Don’t take my drinking hand – that’s all I got left – my right.
I’m pillared salt and codeine rush. You have to learn to trust the daggers thrust. You have to look within to see where you been. Spastic colon and diarrhoea mouth – my jury has been selected from jelly mountains. My fate is sealed before the judges of certainty in apocalypto jack boots. I’ve been a naughty boy and ought to be locked up with all the other glorious saddle bums who dared to live a while.
Love is the law - the law is love. Say it with feeling, repeat it endlessly until you are hoarse, or you get busted for feeling too much. Perhaps the cops will beat you with their love truncheons - if you are lucky. If not they’ll throw you in solitary with a hundred other misguided amoebas who dared to dream big in the isolation of their single cells.
They say you should write from experience. I write with my elbows; I need the room for expansive statements. It’s time to stand up and fight. Who? You’ll find out as soon as you stand up.

17 October 2011


Beautiful ravens, eyes beady black as your glossy wings can will worlds into being and collapse the infinite into sentences. You know the secrets of the songs and have revelled in the glory of flight. Don’t let those straight people take your eyes – you’ve seen things they never will. Don’t let them clip your wings; they won’t be happy until everyone is wading through the same shit they do.

Those that bow their heads before the Sky God can only see the ground before them. They get crooked necks and limited horizons; better to nurture something sacred within. They will call that profane, they’ll call you vain, they’ll call it a wicked sin, but you should never bend before the hollow men. 

You came from the land of spirits to capture both the sun and moon. Your stones created the world before man was ever born. Your bloody beaks cleave the strong from the weak. You brought the light to the ungrateful ones who stone you and chafe you with their binding rods. You owe nothing now to those who have neither beaks nor wings.

15 October 2011


Let’s be entirely zoological about this – cats and dogs don’t mix. One is east and the other is west and wherever you stand the twain does not meet. That’s why I say that you should stick to your side of the fence and I’ll stick to mine – sitting on that fence will only get you splinters in the arse. You can paint your side blue and I’ll paint my side red – neither of us wants purple do we? They say a good neighbour is a fellow who smiles at you over the fence, but doesn't try to climb over it – so be a good neighbour, stick to your own yard and I’ll stick to mine. Don't get me wrong – I’m all in favour of friendly relations, but you never take a fence down until you know why it was put up. I just don’t want to wake up one morning and find my yard full of cats that’s all.

13 October 2011

Fool’s Gold

Everything that glitters is not gold
Things are seldom what they seem
When the sands of time run out
It don’t mean you’re out of time
It just means you’re out of sand
And although fool’s gold
Is not real gold
The fools are real fools

4 October 2011

Now I know better

I used to think that people are basically good and that conflict arose from misunderstanding. Now I know better. People are basically stupid, selfish and cruel. We spend more on weapons than we do on medicine or food – what does that tell you about the human race? People only care about what’s in it for themselves and are only ever altruistic where it concerns self image, they want people to think well of them – no matter what their motivations and goals are.

I used to think that good would always prevail, but I’ve been disabused of that childish viewpoint. Now I know that stupidity always prevails and that all you can count on in this world is crudity of thought and deed. You see we are just monkeys after all. Our basic outlook is tribal and our prime motivator is fear. It’s hard to think straight when your default position is fear – all you can do is react – fight or flight are the orders of the day. Shave a monkey and you have a man, but being human takes effort – constant effort. Most never make that distinction and so they are immersed in the tribal.

“It’s them or us” they say, “If you are not with us, you are against us.” Well they look just like us to me. We all look the same – stupid and ugly. I used to think that the good outweighs the bad. I still do. A little good can undo a whole lot of bad, but we live in a world where they tell you that to kill can be bad, or good, depending on the cause. So now I know good can be bad and bad can be good – depending on who you are. If that sounds crazy to you – you’re right, it is. I used to think people were basically sane and that enlightened self interest would save us from insanity. I know better than that now; the greatest insanity was to believe we were ever sane.
Photograph ‘Shout16’ by Misha Cordon