abracadabra

 

back in the beginning       when your words were absolute      you spoke my name       and I came to life      my love was formed on your lips      what kind of fiction does that make me?       copyright  notwithstanding            sometimes I’m stony real        others I’m a mere affectation        I’m not sure what that signifies        could be I’m not real at all        just a minor character         in some worn out old story       whispered in the darkness          in the end there was a murmur          when your words were obsolete

hear my voice: 'Dagger' 

the poppy curse

 

I’ve had bags of excuses     I could have quit      but I truth be told      I enjoy this shit       in any case         it could be worse      I could be stricken       with the poppy curse         for people can wither      or so it seems        like poppies wilting       in a field of dreams

listen to 'Dagger' 

the sum of the beast (the slaves of babylon)

 

she bore the mark     we all bore the mark      the crown of sorrow        the sum of the beast      for we were marked for toil      and bloodshed      the stolen children of babylon      grafting in darkness for five bucks an hour

she was a back alley goddess       turning tricks since she was twelve     but all her scars      and pox riddled body      could not conceal     the beauty within      she was marked for exploitation      a plaything for corrupted souls

I turned to her in my hour of solace     free of charge      no strings combined     she was the sun     and its unholy laughter      they stoned her to death      with a needle and spoon       I begged her to stay        she begged me to go

there’s no escaping this concrete accretion        this city is built on murder and greed      it’s foundations are carved in bondage and suffering        so turn to me now     you children of babylon       demons in limousines       are baying for your souls      

hear my voice @ 'Dagger' 

heaven

 

 

I don’t believe in heaven      heaven’s not for me     heaven is a melancholy place     full of desiccated ghosts     longing for the living     and the way things used to be     I have no time for heaven     heaven is for the dead     I know you’re not in heaven       to me you still live on       if only in my head       your name is not forgotten     it’s ever on my lips     and your face will linger      in my memory          for as long as I still breathe       you live on in me