30 January 2012


.My heart is full of music
.The kind the angels sing
.I am filled with the light
.Of a thousand breaking dawns
.A  million blackbirds chorus
.That tomorrow will be ours

28 January 2012

Love Bomb

Why don’t you come on over and detonate my love bomb? I’ve been waiting for a woman like you to rock my boat. You’re democratically sexy baby – everybody wants you, but no-one really knows you – not like I do. I know the child inside the woman and the mother in the child. I’ve seen the genie in your bottle. I know your secret schemes, I know your fears, and I know your dreams. I know them all so well for they’re the same as mine. So light my fuse and blow my mind – detonate my love bomb – it’s time for our big bang – let’s get this show started and let our stars collide.

26 January 2012

One O’ Us

BaboonThere’s a certain lack o’ grace etched across your mug – the mark of the beast is stamped oan yer foreheid - it speaks volumes mair than yer mouth ever could. Yer slack jaw and vacant eyes express all the requisite mechanics for sudden and inexplicable violence. That designated muscle between yer ears merely supports the club footed attributes of obviously modified monkey genes. It disnae take an x-ray machine tae establish that yer no one o’ us.

Yer stock hard man posturing – yer chopped dull vocals – indicate that you’re a member o’ some lesser race of feral rave primates finely tuned to tonic vino and soapbar. It’s a distinct and tragic condition – yer hard of thinking – yer mind is underdeveloped – yer imagination is stunted. A hundred thousand years of human evolution have passed ye by. Yer stuck in the jungle wi the intractable discipline of vicious regulation – yer a bampot from the numpty tribe. Whatever the cause of yer cursed disposition, it’s an inalienable fact that yer no one o’ us.


25 January 2012

Tele Heads


Infantile tolerance of the mediated zone breeds contemptuous sponsors for the anodyne combine of subtle televisual offerings and geostationary couch potatoes. Confined to filling space in the schedule of vicarious frills we orphans of reality seek answers in the most unlikely circumstances. We lived, we loved, and we died in the comfort of our arm sockets and the blindness of our dreaming. Lost to the unexplained textbook lists of vacant heads we expanded into the zero zone. Our veins drip coca cola, our hearts pump fat around our corpulent flesh mountains – we are dying without ever living, looking without seeing, listening without hearing. We are touched by nothing and nothing is our inheritance. We rest our weary foreheads on the plasma screen and swear by the cathode ray gun that we are individuals; singular and discrete while  sharing our scattered  dreams with the white noise of the void.


22 January 2012

Star to Star

We steer from star to star
We are lovers and the world is ours
Younger than we once were
Our hearts are children
Changed by the word of love
The days remaining to us
Will be days of wonder

20 January 2012

Big Bang


It all began with my big bang

That sudden realization

Of the loose arrangement

That binds the race

In instinctual obligation


I was fully funemployed

In the summer of my daydreams

Picking she loves me knots – buttercups

With no thought for tomorrows

Tomorrows never come

Cast me out

I have a dreamer’s disease

Fleet of feet

I am a philistine

And a cannibal


My light comes from within

I got a cut rate education

Stolen from between the sheets

Of borrowed books

I’m an autodidactic

Musical hall visionary

In the insane old business

Called slow business


I learned in my big bang

During the secret war

Of the loose configuration

That binds the race

Into mutually assured destruction


The charm has since worn thin

The antidote to glamour

Is working for a living

Everything is hard work

Slacking is the hardest of all

Mind numbing boredom

Scoops your insides out

Fills the spaces with dust


12 January 2012



The wind tugs at my memory

Some half forgotten murmur

Of the wilder country

Of forbidden places

And ancient curses


The whale that swallowed Jonah

Swallowed me as well

But the whale got sick

And turned me loose

I’ve been loose ever since

Except when I was screwed

Tighter than a drum


I’d rather be the devil

Than be that woman’s man

We did the dog – bitch thing

Smiling like it was a virtue

We did the low yo-yo

With no inhibition or shame

And no sense of joy

The sex was good

But the karma was bad


I learned what it feels like

To become a beast

My face is fluid now

It can take any form

Angels and demons

Dance across my surfaces

Tumbling through my void

Twinkling like children

In the summer of my daydreams

And the winter of my nights


10 January 2012

Revolutionary State of Mind


In the revolutionary state of mind

I hoist the bloody banners

Beat the savage drums

Pour myself another gun

And pledge allegiance

To the international brotherhood

Of random allegiance pledgers

Fragile subsidiary guttersnipes

Who channel radiation loaded

Slogans through long suffering

Sentinel letterboxes

Measuring the tiny dramas

Playing out in the world

Beyond those curtained windows


Shine my black boots

Put on my black shirt

Burn it all down to the ground

You can please yourself

But some fool’s gonna get it

Spilled guts in the Disney abattoir

Defining the lateral equation

Between leisure and suffering

Women and children are always first

To taste the ashes of funeral pyres

An iron curtain has descended

Across my blackened heart

It maps the interior executions

Of my limited conscience

And the simulated death

Of my innocence


7 January 2012


When the spotlight hit us we were frozen in helpless fascination. We’d stayed longer than we meant to and just wanted to go home. From my point of view – and presumably hers – it was all over. Even the wildest of adventures becomes mundane with familiarity and it’s true what they say – familiarity breeds contempt. In the cold glare I could see that it was over; I felt no more remorse than I would for stepping on a roach and I viewed the whole thing with the same detachment. Whatever we had together had long outlived its usefulness.

Our thing was nourished by lies – from the start to the finish we never knew each other. Fear drew us together; the fear of loneliness, the fear of discovery. That’s the history of the world – boy meets girl, boy lies to girl and gravity does the rest.

They say nothing lasts forever, but some things last a lifetime; like fear, anguish and shame. Ever since the Garden of Eden we have been covering our shame with little white lies. When the black dog begs at my table and the cold wind hampers my doors I review my liturgy of falsehoods with a wry smile. Every lie begets another – each a building block in an empire of self deception.