semiotics

 back to square one      early doors       the milkman cometh    my war against sleep wages on      I’m sick again       wretched with it      my mind is in meltdown      there’s no silence left      not with the newsflash      the commercial breaks      and incessant chattering idiocy of the internet       there’s little sense to the information age      we’re in it for the money        we murdered god      and filled the void with primetime cheesecake       this culture  is universally flaccid     a succession of fragmented sensation      and random nostalgia      I’m sickened of it      I overdosed on signification      I’m puking my guts up on the swirl of empty meaning       back to square one      early doors      the milkman cometh…

nobody

 I won’t make a difference in your life     I won’t make a difference in mine    I have no power of attorney      no higher authority       the world will turn without me in it      I have lived as other men lived       I’ll die as they have died before me       without meaning      without purpose     directionless, and ideology free      life is an abattoir    no-one escapes the jaws of hell       I tried to build a heaven    in the void of existence      all I got were horrors     and imprisonment in solitary confinement

I can breathe     is that a sign of life?      I have the classic zombie profile    shambolic and loathsome    it doesn’t really matter       on a cosmic scale - nothing ever matters      I have wrestled with god and lost     there’s nothing left to try     I’m a machine       a machine of flesh and blood       my rage was pointless      my prayers misdirected       the universe is cold and relentless       yes, I’ve been swimming with sharks again       it’s risky, but I have no choice      they won’t leave me alone

 

it’s all in our imagination

don’t know about you      but my heart ain't in it        this is not my idea of a good time    hard knocks       tough questions      tougher lessons...     excuse me     I lost your signal     I phased out     heavy-lidded     a little stoned     vulnerable to kryptonite     went all buddha for a moment    the sun    the moon    the sky        never said I had a better way       there is no clearer route than your own heart     

you were mindful for the moment     you  kicked your shoes off and danced      and you scoped me out     with the most exacting eyes        gripped with power and wonder        can’t you hear the summer calling?     she calls on you by name         she didn’t want to be alone       she remembers the things we used to do      drunk on nectar in the season of promise     it’s all in my imagination      is it ever that way for you?

asphyxiation

 love is a mutt that follows you home       an overfriendly guest with a huge appetite      still, it’s your dime…       and it’s better than being alone…       isn’t it?      well, isn’t it?     or are you too tall for love?      too proud to stoop down low?    would you rather be a master than a slave?      well, love makes slaves of us all        some say love is life and indifference is death     surely it’s better to serve something      anything      than suffer that gradual asphyxiation?

I don’t always do as I’m told

 all truth is relative      all judgements subjective      nothing’s as concrete     as you’re led to believe       history is a lie      and so are you       but it’s too late now      to sing that song      I had my special k for breakfast     and fell down a rabbit hole     all the world’s tired old clichés      are gnawing on my bones      I stand accused      of stacking the deck       and playing by my own rules     but I don’t care      how far I go       as long as I get my jelly roll       I’m talking now as a friend       who understands the violence that breeds conformity       I have to stay real with myself     I don’t always do as I’m told

rehabilitation

 they sent a man from the council        to survey my state of being      he condemned the building       before he crushed my expectations         and flushed them down the crapper      he has a place in the country     said I could get my head right there      he promised me the good life      as he understood it      in supported living    fucking do gooder       has me on his list     but I won’t move an inch    I’ve embraced self improvement     I’m seeing beneficial angles     there might just be a score     in this rehabilitation racket

dear reader

we are all of us acquainted with sorrow     and that being said       we’re maybe better for it      if that’s the natural order    and it seems to be   dear reader     we have suffered      we have suffered to our shame     I hope for your sake     that your greatest regret    in this season of regrets    was an affair of the heart     that’s where it counts      because that’s the best of us     that’s where we live      love and betrayal      it’s a fearsome thing     but the crimes we commit for love       are perhaps our saving grace       

an empire of lies

don’t worry          I’m not about to forgive you        it’s not my place to forgive you       people tell lies for all sorts of reasons           it doesn’t mean they are bad       it doesn’t make them wrong        sometimes we lie to spare the feelings of others         most of the time we lie because we are afraid            fear makes liars of us all          whole civilisations have been built on well-intentioned lies        I know you meant no harm       I’m sure you had the truth in mind        at some point in the future          this will be the past       I’ve already burned my diary     my last statement shall be ash        life     my friend       is fleeting        we shall leave no trace behind us        and our troubles       will have washed away     diluted in the oceans of time

ascension

 long about midnight      a certain time ago      someone spiked my tea      before they rifled through my drawers       may long standing repercussions     settle on their bones      he who laughs last…     well, let’s just wait and see…       I’m too cool to care    coz my head is full of stars      I’m only a poor boy with a bloody hammer      I get high       I get low     the symptoms are axiomatic    they’re no problem at all    it would take more than a lethal dose    to silence this fat mouth            

brother, you gave me a mountain     but I climbed it    what’s that the image of?       men heaving over mountains?   or drowning in their shadows?     a man needs a mountain      like a bullet needs a gun     a mountain’s a load for one back     but I’m drawn to the weight of it     like a moth on a fatal trajectory    simply coz it’s there     coz it’s in my path    I’m just a poor boy with a bloody hammer     I survived the assassin’s cup      and occasional subsequent avalanches      but I’ve been to the top of the mountain      and I have seen the world        

 

bourgeois heroes

the swill of propaganda     and the opiate of aspiration   are pumped out 24/7     in the age of sexualisation     fetishized  commodities     and prostituted love     

the name of the game is power      and all power stems from oppression        our courageous captains of industry      spread the ideology of cancer      in a torrent of greed and lust     

way up on mount olympus       cadres of billionaire demigods       are forging tickets to heaven      from second-hand clichés    and promissory notes     we’re left counting pennies      while they organise a society     where hideous pagan idols     are feasting on our blood

bluebottles

I was my natural self     being in a particular groove    when I was accosted by bluebottles     they was low types     full of guile and craft    and tried to locate my stash     by rifling my pockets     they were due a disappointment   coz I’d already imbibed      and was well off my rocker    yeah   herb means life, or so jah say     everybody’s doing it nowadays      I was indignant and stood on my rights      they got suss      and fled through the night      but the war on drugs is never over      we’re bound to meet again      on another sorry day

easter sunday

 let’s drink to resurrection      and poor boys coming home      to triumph over life and death     the second time around     you’ll believe what you want to       there ain’t no sin in that     but words are what men live by      and words were meant to count       some things linger on      in the universal mind      they’re neither fact nor fiction      but something in-between    jesus was a poet      and he’s alright by me        

outside women

another outside woman     is borrowing my clothes        she’s got my name and number       that’s about all she knows         she doesn’t bother to feed me      and I don’t really care       coz we’re only buying time       while her man’s not there       it’s become the well-worn ritual       we don’t talk that much       we keep it nice and simple     and communicate by touch      it’s a temporary arrangement      we can always walk away     but she likes to keep me stashed nearby    for a rainy day

problems

 I’m no slave to silence      I have the words     but I don’t use them all      you said I had a great face    the kind that’s been lived in        well it is      lived in  that is    died in too     but that’s another story       you said I was gifted      but that’s just a lie     I’m experienced      that’s what you bought      no social experiment     you bought a man      a man of flesh and blood     I fought the law     but I never did no time    they caged me in a hospital     they said I’d lost my mind       but minds are ten a penny     they’re not so hard to find     I’ve had problems      we’ve all had problems      but I used my imagination     to finally cut loose     what on earth did you do    when hard times came around?

good friday

was that love?     was it ever love?     transmitted from a distance      cloaked in the mysterious     it was a far greater thing…      and all that signifies    to sacrifice yourself     and the love the act implies    I said I’d give my life for you       but that was not enough    I had to forsake my family    and purchase your affections       with promissory notes…

pyrite

don’t mind me    I’m just a basic guy     with extravagant needs     but a man’s got to live      as he sees fit     there’s no secret ambition     burning holes in my pockets     I’ve got natural medicine      to spell me some cheer       they say it’s a weakness       but I don’t really care      some diversions are sacred       like words from the bible     so don’t shoot me down       until you hear what the deal is      your complete satisfaction     could be moments away

heavy arithmetic

it’s a heavy arithmetic       that measures out the hours     and subtracts the days      time spent more in hope than reason        our rusted factory eyes lack lustre     they’re fixed on horizons far away       where our dreams now live in exile      and yesterday’s tomorrows accumulate decay       is it true what I heard you say?       you made a binding promise       that you would wait forever     forever and a day

lizards

another billionaire turned out to be a lizard     but it didn’t really matter     he’s chairman of the board     coz money is good    when you earn enough     to buy a small planet     he’ll buy your affections      and swing your elections      coz your aspirations      are shaped by his ambition

screwfaces

sometimes      often     I don’t want to go out      I don’t want to go out     mixing with them screwfaces      don’t get me wrong      I’ve worn faces      we’ve all worn faces     but you know faces     you can’t rely on faces     any more than words      they make you look       and you don’t want to look      but they make you look     and then you see      that faces conceal      and faces mislead      no, you can’t trust the faces      in this neighbourhood  

weirdo

 I’m a rocket    totally psychiatric    but I’m authentic     a genuine individual      I count it a privilege      to play the local freak     it’s not like I really care    coz I was never normal        but sometimes I’ve been free      I can fly in the face of reason     that might sometimes seem eccentric       but I’ve been wired    rewired    and strung out on the limbs of some unfamiliar trees     it suits me that I’m a weirdo     I don’t care what anyone says      I’ve never worn the shackles of social conformity

liquid energy

she said I had potential      in the form of liquid energy      the kind that runs right over      to saturate the page      in a red hot flush of synergy      she loved the cut       of my druggy cliché mystery       and though that stuff is history       she said it all so sexily      that I didn’t really mind        and we made love      in the shadow of the gallows       on a bed of poisoned arrows     they say that lust is blind      of that there is no doubt      she poured my head       into a bowl of wild piranha        she peeled back my banana       smiled once for the camera        and snuffed my candle out

 

treasures

those memories    that echo sunlight forever held within your mind worth more than gold or tea from China these are the treasures of your life

stupid

 people are stupid     that’s my defence     external forces      motivate my actions      I’m one of the masses       singularly  thick      collectively crazy       I don’t sweat it    I drown my sorrows       you won’t catch me      with native intelligence      and you can’t pin me down      with your phony logic     I’ll keep the council     of my blind      and foolish heart    I say we press on    and dance with the devil      he has credentials    that ensure his success    we don’t have to think      we just have to follow      we don’t have to march      while he makes us run

frankenstein

 there’s an air of quiet death about this house     there are ghosts in every corner     there are shadows      there are doubts      I’m being scrutinised by the inner eye     I’m naked and alone      with nowhere left to hide    I murdered you     to resurrect you once more    in the laboratory of my mind      you’re a stain that still needs scrubbing     in the life I left behind      I buried you deep     and hid the shovel     but you’re back again      and causing trouble       it’s a curse to have a conscience       I thought that we were quits     I don’t need to hear you crying     I counted every tear you shed    don’t make me relive this shit    just get the fuck away from here      get out of my fucking head

tribal

did you scan the broken icons?     the debris of heroic purpose?     the fetishes of pain?   here's another dismal harvest of broken bodies and perished dreams       security through violence      no world without us      we kill to live     and live to kill   I'm in awe of the awful symmetry in that design    I understand the tribal imprint      the allure of us and them      but I'm a little older now      and no longer play the game     that doesn't mean I'm safe      it simply means I'm sane

feline

 older now     but clearly no wiser     I showed a little interest     lapped it right up    the cat that stole the cream     but I won’t be neutered     by sympathetic vibrations      ‘no one fucks like that – unless they really mean it’    was that an accusation?      was it a compliment?      I showed a little interest      for a moment you were everything     but you murdered that moment       when you put it under the microscope       you murdered that moment      and I’m over it now…

entangled

it takes two to tangle     in the dog eat dog      but I’m resting my voice      before I take another pounding    my opening gambit       was all cotton candy      but my final word      meant nothing at all     I’ll ease on out      on my magic pillow     to take a repast    that’s at least free of sorrow     I might be back     I might not bother     but if I do change my mind     you’ll see me tomorrow

money

 money has power     if you choose to believe it     some people just don’t care about money       other’s care about nothing else    here I am sitting in my bed     reading my I.O.U’s   I don’t care much for anything    because beauty is a whore     and money is her pimp    I have no taste for poverty     nor for honest labour    that’s why I’m a thief   I will not serve a master     but I will not want for money    I’ll take what I’ve got coming     I’ll steal before I earn    

cyclops

there are no flies on you     coz you’re the dog’s bollocks      and the sun shines out of your arse     you’re quicker than the devil     but more grounded in reality      you’re so single minded in your every conceit       and brother you can talk      you can talk yourself blue     chew my fucking ears off   go on, demonstrate the folly of your words      you hate this      you hate that       the world pisses you off...      truth is a matter of ingenuity    we are what we pretend to be      and you pretend to be wise      but your wisdom is a ticket to hell     coz shit gets under your skin     there’s no defect in your vision     you’re just selectively blind    you’re so busy with the wrong      you refuse to see the light     that the good outweighs the bad      to anyone with sight

 

 

torquemada

questions circle like vultures    but I’m not running away    I’m running towards   I changed my face to fit the frame      you could say I’m in disguise     I don’t forget the things I’ve done      man, I nearly choked on them     but I got over it    and now I’m on the gravy train     but I had to give it up     you know what I mean?      I had to give it up        pack it in and snuff it out     no embers left to fan      but there are questions    always questions      I’m not afraid of questions    I have one for you    what the fuck do you want?     you don’t have to answer    you might not know the answer     some questions can’t be answered     and some answers can’t be questioned      is love always the answer?      or is love sometimes the question?     I suppose it makes no difference to me      because I keep my own secrets     and bear my stripes without complaint

 

terraplaning

a smattering of raindrops pepper my window panes     their ragged trails are bleached by another thorazine moon    a thousand dark misgivings     are nesting in my brain      a swarm of ravenous locusts    are wheeling on the wing      there’s space beneath  the blankets   I’m slipping through again      strange fruit and poplar trees   I’ve seen this place before     I’m talking to some woman     I sense that she’s a friend     I seem to know her face     but can’t recall her name     the local boys are rowdy    on tonic wine and beer    I’m peeling away my skin     it’s a reptile house in here    I can hardly breathe    I’m running out of air     someone is calling my name    but I don’t seem to care   I’m all fucked up again    a little worse for wear     is what’s inside leaking out?     is what’s outside crashing in?   I tore these words from the paper    and pasted them into the void    it’s a menagerie of countersigns    a procession of disjointed images      that could signify anything    but most likely don’t     it’s the dark side of morning     and no one gives a shit      most of us are sleeping      perhaps I’m sleeping too    maybe this is a dream     I hope it is a dream   cause if this is just a dream    I could make an escape    I could dial myself a ride    and terraplane away 

denial

 some lies are more useful than facts       some facts are too hard to bear     I’ve often indulged to excess    in sex and drugs and wine    and lost myself in the labyrinth   of my fickle polluted heart       of all the liars in the world     the human heart reigns supreme     but then it’s easier to disseminate falsehoods      than it is to tell the truth     things are made to happen     somebody makes them happen     so never do anything     you can’t later deny    surely facts mould fictions   and the truth is often eclipsed    by something more convenient    these are not just words     this is my religion    I am my own god      here to drink and fuck and fight   and my truth is beautiful     even if it’s hard to swallow    because the truth feels like an insult   to people in denial     but let me tell you this     there is one great truth    there is one great lie     they amount to the same     they can both be denied

 

teflon

 I won’t cry foul    I never was a victim    I play the hand that’s dealt me     and accept the consequences    so go ahead and cast your stones     no one is above criticism     but some bear other’s faults      jealous tongues spread bad news    and magnify the false     but I’ve broken no earthly law    save the laws of prudery      I sleep wherever I’m welcome     and reap whatever I sow     my critics only strengthen me     their inhibitions make me bold     my difference is a source of pride      I’m unaffected by the crowd    but if I walked a mile in their tight shoes      I might just hate me too      I’m a libertine by nature     I never followed rules     and I refuse to be held accountable by puritanical fools