31 May 2012



Baking in the summer ripple

Let me lower you down

Into long vibrating grass

Here we are molten

At the centre of the world

The sky is wide and blue

The earth alive and buzzing

Our bodies slick with sweat

Draw the winged denizens

Who draw the swallows

Swooping and capering

Above our heads


29 May 2012



The songs of the dead

Play softly in my mind

Bittersweet remembrances

Of friendships lost to time

I am closer to them now

In the twilight of my misery

Who knows what lies

I will speak Into the night

What cold comfort

I’ll garner from my deception

These evil days are mine

To endure alone

In the privacy

Of my defective head


26 May 2012



I don’t want to talk today

I won’t want to talk tomorrow

The viper that bit me

Had a morbid tongue

And the bitterest black poison

That threatens to drag me down

Into the undertow

Of my darker layer

I’ll keep my silence

Learn to bite my tongue

I’ll die by degrees

And keep to myself

The secrets of a lifetime

Lived in error


One Day At A Time


You think I’m high

But I’m just pretending

It’s in your eyes

That you’ll drag me down

Is it so hard to admit

Your world of sorrow

Or are you pretending too?

Why try to swallow a lifetime?

When you can take it all

One day at a time?

You could laugh

Instead of crying

You could live

Instead of dying

One day at a time


25 May 2012

Dig it


Writing is like a drug (believe me I know) it produces an organized euphoria and provides a headspace where things are crystal clear. When it’s going down the way I want the freedom of the page lights me up – I’m firing on all four and have a full head of steam. The satisfaction in the word is nearly orgasmic. I forget the square neighbours and the cops at my door. I forget the trivialities that threaten to drag a man down. I did a hundred meaningless jobs – I was a construction worker, a ditch digger, a window cleaner and a librarian. I never felt right about any of them, but when I started with the words I knew what I wanted to do. It doesn’t matter if I’m never paid, or recognized – I can’t stop now that I found my thing.


24 May 2012

Red Devil Lye


I may need someone

I might give you a call

If it ever comes to that

I have no direct intentions

That lean in that direction

You’re so very cool

You’re gonna die someday

I just got to get away

From your evil ways

You spiked my drink

With red devil lye

I had to leave you baby

Before I committed a crime

I went to the crossroads

There was no-one there

But I would sell my soul

Just to be rid of you


23 May 2012



You’re forced to compromise

Become partners in crime

Negotiate your silence

With the masters of time

You call yourself a poet

And buy a typewriter

For writing retro prose

In strangled pentameter

All left feet and right hands

You murder the days

With rhythmic tapping

You suffer the nights

And pray for deliverance


The Real You


I saw your face

Contorted with rage

Fierce green eyes

Tinted with hate

It wasn’t so pretty

But I think I was seeing

The real you

It struck me as funny

I could not help laughing

You looked so small

You seemed so far away


22 May 2012



Bake my bones

Brittle and broken

Flay my nerves

Fragile and shattered

I am grist for the mill

Meat for the table

Ache me, break me

Roast me on a spit

Cover me in misery

I am watered down

And poured out

Pain is my middle name

Agony is my birthright


21 May 2012



You gotta have style

Something you can pour

From a tall pitcher

Into a short glass

That thing that oozes

From you fingertips

And shapes the words

Into shade and nuance

Imagery and thought

Something that says

This is me

Nobody else can do it

Like this

I’m not talking varnish

Not just a thin layer

Style is deep

Your style is you

In the abstract

Stamped into the page


I Got Stoned


I got stoned on the flimsiest pretext

I got stoned ‘cause the sun was shining

Or maybe it was raining

It didn’t matter to me

As long as I was stoned

Mostly I’d just get stoned and smile

As all my problems simply evaporated

The birds of the field neither reap nor sow

I got stoned and the world passed me by

I was out of the rat race and did not mind

I’m not a rat and I’m not in the race

I wasn’t gonna be crushed by trivialities

Because in my mind I was free


20 May 2012

In Sheep’s Clothing

The hungry hearts
Of ravening lambs
The sweet words
Of bitter old men
Knowledge of sin
The blindness of love
And the art of concealment
Which makes fools of us all
In the great game
Not everybody
Is all that they seem

19 May 2012

The Mystery Of Blood


The purity of blood

The menstrual clot

Fashions life from pleasure

In the moment of fusion

Consciousness shared

Is consciousness gifted

The fountain of life

Springs from the groin

Flesh conjoined

In ecstatic union

The mystery of blood

Is the story of existence


18 May 2012

Mad Man


Let’s talk about what is

And isn’t there

With a buzz on

Fear the monkey

Fuck the monkey

I nearly wrote my will

Whispered lines

In absentia

A couple of chromosomes

Short of a…


Madmen are trying to fix things

What kind of things?

Tiny things

Like lives

Stick a little procaine in my life

Blur my edges

Numb my nuts

Too many books

In my locker

Too many crossed wires

In my head

Not to be


17 May 2012

The War On Sleep


After six days and seven nights my eyes were red and sore. I felt as though my skin was parchment and I was filled with electric bees. My head buzzed with empty space and I stood thinly at the centre. I was insulated by static mush in the midst of an electronic hive. I was thinking in a single stream of mercury. I was constantly in the frame; consolidating the one true IS. Just as easy as breathing – which is exactly what I was doing. I was the density of air and breathed by osmosis. Molecules of oxygen glowing luminescent purples and greens hummed around me. I absorbed the light through my skin in paroxysm of delight and realisation. The everything spoke to me and I vibrated on the words.

In the beginning was the spoken and the spoken was good. Words delineate and encapsulate. Words are the bricks of our universe and they cascaded through my mind to be filtered through my liquid consciousness. This was the high on high; close to the heavens and closer to the edge of oblivion. All this was more than I could translate into cohesive thought. I rolled a number and ate the smoke. The time had come for crashing and the horrors of the deep. Naked, inert and defenceless - sleep beckoned me with iron fingers and I was too weak to disobey. She took me down into dark oceans filled with forgotten dreams. I fought like a drowning man, but she took me hard and relentless into the deep. My cruel mistress, my unwanted lover – she’d always win out in the end.


16 May 2012

King Of Locusts

The king of the locusts
Laid waste my dreams
They lay torn and tattered
On dark and barren ground
Their tedious forms
Bled into the gutter
Washed away by tears
A time to gather stones
An eternity of frozen space
The cat's cradle broke
The hollow moon shone
Dark cenotaphs loomed
The lightning stuck one
Too early to see
There was no place
For a silent whore
To sing for his supper
Or starve for love

The Weight Of Happiness


The mystery of smoke

The weight of happiness

That euphoric load

Lays heavy on my brain

Sufi dervishes spin my head

Producing a delightful vertigo

The magic carpet beneath my feet

Promises journeys to exotic lands

The wonder of flight and falling

Spiraling inward and outward

The flash of liquid lightning

Illuminates the mind

And liberates the heart


14 May 2012

Pig God


The secrets hidden in your head

The occult pleasures of your heart

The treasures you have plundered

Then passed off as your own

Mark you out as a singular failure

The simulation of a man

A shadow in your darkness

In the solitude of your prison cell

You pray to your pig god

That no-one sees your true face

Or the bloody hands

That betray those guilty secrets

And your empty aspirations


12 May 2012

Our Secret


Dad did something mental

‘It’ll be our secret’

His voice was strange, quiet

Keep it in the family

Or dial 999

‘Ah widnae dae that!’

Destroy everything

Mothers lament

Best kept quiet

Swallow the pain

Share the guilt

One sweet day

You’ll fly away


11 May 2012



A sea of misgivings

An imperfect storm

The white knuckle ride

On a broken rollercoaster

There’s a knot inside me

And it’s twisting around

I could change my mind

Just like the weather

You never know

Just what you’ll get

Angels and demons

Orbit my crown

Slam my face on the ground

Rocket me into the sky

Directionless in motion

Motionless in direction

I talk a lot

But I don’t say anything

It’s just my rattling head

Echoing my numb thoughts

There’s no explaining nothing

There’s nothing to explain

Bi polar disorder

A disturbance in my brain




The flakes come out with the moon

To hear the sirens rip open the night

And feel the waxing of the tides

That hold sway in the affected mind

An especial brand of lunacy

Lights on a world so few can see


9 May 2012

Snow Blind


Name my poison

Fix me a large one

Snow white crystals

From Bolivian heights

The mystic powder

Of the Inca gods

Sends me flying

Down dawns

Great highway

Along the road

That leads to ruin


7 May 2012



It’s a thought that comes unbidden in the night

That my journey through the fourth dimension

Will one day come to an abrupt end

That having reached my final destination

Death’s black empty caul will cover my eyes

And silence will coat my flesh, my bones

What will I feel on that day of certainty?

Will I plead for one more hour on earth?

Will I turn to a God I’ve never known?

I turn my face from these thoughts

Press my head to the pillow and try to forget


4 May 2012



I love the way beer burns an empty stomach and leaves a buzz in an empty head. I love the feeling of minor vertigo produced by a lung full of green and the gentle rocking of my boat in the calmer waters dreamt of in my cooler quarter. Send me jazz messengers to soothe my mind and smooth out the corrugations of my life.

I deplore obliteration, but dig augmentation. I like a little spin now and then – to hone my edge and free up some space in my tool box. There are a billion jurors on my case who’ll condemn my predilections as errant criminality, but I pay no attention to dogs with no teeth. I like to cultivate a little distance between myself and the unclean thing, ‘cause the unclean thing really twists my nuts.

Give me sun on my winter days and cool in my summertime. I want it all without compromise or exception. Give me the good things and drown the rest in forgetfulness. Send me the rolling thunder to rumble my cause – bring me ecstasy with no cost. I’m the living article; the concept and commodity cast in the shape of man. On any given morning I’m the alpha and omega – the beginning and the end wrapped in the cotton brain of innocence. I’m all I ever could be, or should be in the shadow of the eternal now.


3 May 2012

The Living End


The dark - the night

The light - the day

They seem the same

To the tortured mind

Cruel time runs awry

Cramming days and weeks

Into the gaping hole

Torn in the fabric

Of an ordinary life

Lived in two dimensions

Gloomy are the hours

Between the seconds

Predictable as death

The twilight world

The living end


1 May 2012

Light Up


Light up - Go ahead, it’ll make your day. Light up and take a walk down that miracle mile. Follow the ganja trails that wind like smoke through the back of your mind. Uncoil with the broken symphonies playing in your heart. Revel in the wooly organism that rocks you in its cradle. Your happy head will float serene on a pillow of dreams. Your compass is pointing to happy time, so plot a course for stoned and ease away from your blues. Tomorrow is another time - today is for the dreaming.