if this life
had any meaning we’d be the last to
know we’re spoon-fed on slurry
culture waving banners and burning crosses them outside they’re not like us we got the understanding them outside ain’t got no culture coz without
a flag a man is nothing without a
flag he has no home
we are creatures
of light and shade but most of us are
dead inside victims of spiritual
suicide the abyss of our pain swallows all ambition and our darkest monuments cast heavy shadows across our empty lives I’m having a human experience here typical to my generation I took a bullet to the soul I’m bleeding out again but I no longer seem to care
I’m tired of
thinking no-one can think and fight
at the same time and I’m in a fight
here the fight of my life insanity and happiness are an unlikely
cocktail and they have labeled me
mad because I feel too much because I’m sad but my sanity is open to debate perhaps madness is a natural reaction to the real maybe
I am crazy maybe madness is a
failing but I ask you who can be sane in a world gone mad?
you have to be crazy to play by the rules to believe in a game that is rigged to make you the fool
this is not my first lynch mob I’ve been tarred and feathered before victim of that parochial mediocrity that says you are different so you must be bad and if you are bad then we must be good well I don’t pretend to be good no-one would believe me anyway I don’t look good and I don’t feel good and I never trust a man who says he is good most men are only as good as they have to be
I will
always speak my truth
but not only in words coz words are not enough not my words my words deceive I'd promise the truth, but what would it mean? I promise never to make promises promises take hostages I'll act in accordance with my spirit and live as I damn well choose coz you
cannot bury your truth it will always resurface like Lazarus in an
ocean of deceptions
your truth will never drown your truth shall always find you your truth will be your judge and if it finds you wanting your truth shall be your noose
I made my own
bible proclaimed it like a
trumpet the world was deaf and did not hear but
my words were impeccable I tried to
use their power in the direction
of good because I am an instrument of peace and a vassal of love because love is the supreme science love is the only law
this was no
epiphany it all came on real easy like over the course of decades it was less a voyage of discovery more a process of discarding garbage I know who I am now and I won’t forget the world won’t let me I’m fatally flawed and that’s my strength it can’t be used against me
individuals
are thin on the ground most people
are just copies nothing of them is
original they are an amalgam of stories
they have heard because everyone has
stories playing inside their heads we’re all just the stories we tell
ourselves most of them are fictions we take pride in our fictions our uniqueness but when I found out who I really was I
was bitterly disappointed because
I’m not at all unique I’m a total fucking cliché
a manic
depressive whore with a taste for
drink and drugs I truly am my own
worst enemy I’m just a Jonas and
I seem to sow discord wherever I go but I ain’t crying when
I survey my life I see I’ve lived it as
well as I could but it doesn’t
matter now just how I have lived I can no longer play the role assigned me I simply ceased to give a shit and that brought me peace of mind but I had to make that peace through
understanding because everything is
connected everything is now
mistakes are
my life I’ve made a few oh well, must get on get things done stain the silence with my words my best years have fled perhaps there was a time when I was happy I must have been happy in her arms yes, I must have been happy in her arms
I’d better do
something while I still have the
fire maybe a fire or embers still to fan or will I brood in my stinking lair? and feel her absence and feel her near? every man hefts a cross until he eventually dies or he disappears I might find it funny but I don’t do funny not in this place no, not in here
what an
idea absurd but powerful it has real poetry but oh lord there ain’t room for us both in
this religion you’d best count me a monkey
man coz I’m about this world, not the next my dharma is entirely human that’s
what interests me - being human
life has no
meaning but the meaning we give it art is the true expression of humanity I want to be art I want to perfect my form of being my being human because it matters because I believe in humanity the
laws of nature seem cruel there’s
no justice in the universe the universe does not care but
we care, right? even in a godless
world - we still care - don’t
we?
*image 'The Three Shades' Auguste Rodin
lately, I’m not really there I’m not really anywhere sometimes I’m not myself I mutate into something else sometimes I’m formed in the shadows exposed under sodium light I can’t seem to shake the feeling that it all could happen again I’d be down on the killing floor dragging my ball and chain through hospital corridors desperate to escape finding no way home
fuck this for
a game of soldiers fifty years on the
treadmill just to make some other
cunt filthy no, I’m sick of their bourgeois
heroes I’m sick of their holy books they want to stunt your imagination with
their prisons, churches and schools
well, I’m opting out I’ve simply had enough I’m an armchair revolutionary now hooked to the silver screen I think I broke the world I didn’t know what I doing I was only killing time when this notion came to me… I need to escape this room and smash my fucking TV
I just want
to know what the hell is going
on? they say the world will end today it’s not before time this world is a sick joke but then, you reap what you sow and we’ve sown a lot I don’t suppose I really care but I’m curious I just want to know is this all there is? I just want to know
there’s so much propaganda now black propaganda and filth you’ve got stomach a banquet of shit every time you watch the news we don’t need hatred we don’t need rulers the power they take from the people will return to the people coz nothing is permanent not even our troubles there is no meaning to any of this there is only the desire for life with our thoughts we make the world the way is not in the sky the way is in the mind
I like your
attitude fuck the rules you’ll never reach monkey heaven but you’re not being fooled by sugar coated rhetoric you’re
not paralyzed by wishful thinking coz you’re an individual and
you do as you choose
you have desires that outstrip this world perhaps you were meant for somewhere else some other world where you are free you don’t
talk to an empty sky coz you already
know the truth heaven was in that first kiss but hell was in the last
change will
come through the mouth of a gun the truth is a bullet the mind is a gun and a gun is power as money is power and beauty is power we
like power we can’t get enough all relationships are based on power and resistance to power coz power ennobles while the fear of losing power
corrupts it’s that terrible dynamic that measures out the conflict that constitutes our lives
paint a
picture of this emotionally squalid got the fear on now something chronic but I have music inside me so I’m not that far gone not
a damp eye in the house must be the
season of cynics I’m too tired to make
adjustments this late in the deal
lately, I’m riddled with doubt and what if it’s bad? but what if it’s good? but
what if it’s bad? and what if they
laugh? so what if they do? it’s
the bloody psychogenesis of crippling
inertia my head is black with
trouble and I’m weary of the conflict
I quit for the sake of my sanity but I soon found out you have to quit every day maybe I’ll quit quitting no, don’t tempt me don’t get me started once I get started I don’t know how to stop I’m not a temperate man I’m a greedy bastard who cannot get enough
It’s not easy
staying sober but it’s so much
harder staying drunk staying drunk takes dedication an appetite for destruction the
will to live as a fucking pariah, a leper and a bum no, I no longer have the strength to
deal with so much fun
he don't know who he is
coz he’s
had a hit
that's knocked
him
fucking senseless
so he
does his business
with a brownian motion
he’s erratic and addled
I felt I owed
you some words but what’s the
point? they wouldn’t ring true they’d make me like you I’m
too lazy now to speak the truth they say there’s beauty in truth even when it hurts I’m not so sure the truth can be ugly it can cut like a knife
does the lie
you believe become the truth? people
tell lies to look more attractive but
mostly they just get uglier I heard what you said that I wasn’t worth knowing but it was said from a distance so I might have been dreaming
a world
without madness would be a mediocrity but when I realised what a sick, awful joke
the world is I went stark raving
mad and madness begets madness so soon I was lost insanity
is no escape from reality it’s an
overdose of reality isolation, loneliness, desperation and
rage all of these are real the whole world is mad and in a world of madness perhaps only the crazy are truly sane
I have worn the cloak of madness madness that
wore me down it took over my
mind and co-opted every action my messianic highs, my diabolical
lows were as inclement as the weather
they guided my tongue and my actions they
damned me as they exalted me but I
glimpsed eternity and thrilled to uncover my great secret we are all as gods we are all of us insane only some of us know it only some bear the pain
I want to live
the life of my dreams use my power
in the service of my vision let me
tell you about my favourite hallucination…
it didn’t look like him but I
knew who he was from his smile he
was young he will always be
young he brought a message from my sponsor I’d been tuning into the wrong
channel I’d better find a new
gimmick abandon my poverty store up some treasure in heaven I needed a change of scene I
needed to change a lot of things the cosmos seems indifferent and cold so how about a little peace, love and understanding? if it’s too hard to get your head
around you can always consult the
manual…
I embrace my anger
as something splendid something
glorious a denial of restraint but never of reason I’m talking something pure free of horror or pity action beyond mere frenzy the ripened grapes of wrath
I’m a
singular entity I keep my own
counsel the panicked herd does not
sway me I damn them all to perdition I’m ruthless and perfected in my wayward geometry I’ll see them burn in the hell they made for me
so I’m the
bad guy? how did that happen? I thought I was spreading love but I was sewing discord I was a devil but ain’t we all devils? and Isn’t this our hell? man, it’s so easy to be wicked people will help you everybody does it I was no different maybe I was worse but according to the common gospel I’ve been forgiven coz the sins of the flesh are unimportant only sins of the soul are shameful
don’t judge
that book by its cover that cunt
could get a piece at anybody’s door
he oozes a dark charisma
that’s how he gets things done
he’s packing dynamite and he’s
on a short fuse anything can
happen and very often does aye, he’s bad news his wiring is all wrong he don’t mean no harm but sometimes he can’t help himself
I’m just an ordinary sucker with extraordinary needs I have to stir the pot several times a week my appetites are excessive my appetites are raw for me sex is like a drug that leaves me wanting more
everything is about sex except sex sex is about power maybe that’s my problem maybe I lack power or perhaps I have too much all I know is when I make that
contact and the game is on I’m more than just promiscuous I’m mother nature’s son
there ain’t no partial truths
there ain’t no might have beens
it’s either true or false
there ain’t no in-betweens
they say the truth will set you free
but first, it’ll fuck with your head
if you can’t deal with that
you may as well be blind
coz the truth’s a revolution
fomenting in your mind
it only becomes apparent
when heart and head align
being special is nothing special everybody is special to somebody I draw no conclusions and I don’t get specific this world is a wonder if you’re paying attention the people who live here are beautiful
and terrible none of them were born
alone no matter what they tell
you every mother’s son had a bosom for a pillow no one walks the earth alone
Ain’t it hard
just to live? There’s no accounting for people or what passes for right and
wrong. I’d been shooting my mouth off. I was up to no good with nowhere to turn
but bad. I’d deviated from the norm. I’d
been scaring the neighbours. Somebody called the cops. Yeah, somebody called
the cops. But I know my rights.
“You have the
right to obey. Compliance is mandatory. There is only one rule: obey all the
rules.”
They held me
on trumped-up charges of lewd behaviour and vagrancy. They confiscated my shoelaces. They
confiscated my humanity. They took me to a doctor who said,
“What’s wrong
with his head is anybody’s guess. He needs to be disinfected. He’s channelling
subversive vibrations. We’d better lock
him up; I think that’s for the best.”
They put me
in the quiet room, where I’d plan for my escape. I’d tiptoe right out of
there. I’ve learned to play their game.
I level up
heavy again and again. But I don’t complain. That’s just my lot; it’s always been
this way. Mania is a gift from the cosmos.
The truth don’t stop. It’s rolling on hard, like the driven rain. I have a face
for every season. They can’t take that from me.
I’m flowering in heaven though my roots are in hell I’ve come into remission from sorrow and regret I no longer freak out at the slightest provocation I’ve achieved harmony in heart and mind it’s time to loosen up create a new space for my peace the world is big and full of woes I could be cut down at any moment but I’m free for now and that’s enough for me
I was not easy to help but I was helped for some my illness was seen a a failure or even a betrayal but my world was broken and I reached out for a new one no one would condemn a cancer victim saying ‘he brought it on himself’ but my friends diminished in number those are the perverse mathematics of life I don’t mind being ghosted I live for myself to hell with everyone else I’ve forgiven those erstwhile friends who could only see the surface of things I don’t require validation I made it on my own I’m an individual now a man of some distinction
we were a pack
and we made meat but we had to
be ruthless with those who could
not we would dance in the sacred
manner horizontally with the shades down private individuals living in a private world
I got the blame when it all fell apart and maybe I deserved it paint
me wicked everyone does it’s easier that way there are too many pigments in the other picture I grieved for that cabal of erstwhile friends and lovers when
they fell on me like wolves to tear
the world apart
the years
take
I’m docile
now
polished
smooth
I wouldn’t
leave a ripple
if you
dropped me in the ocean
I could be
making waves
but I’m
coasting from here on in
I’ve made my
choices
what is a life
but a series
of choices?
I live
according to my nature
it’s too
late now
for anything
else
becalmed once again deep in the fucking doldrums went to the doctor he told me to lighten up but that cunt’s a fool this time I’m dying slowly, by degrees it’s the dead of liquid night I’m adrift on the tides of memory half in shadow, half in light I sometimes hear your voice can you still hear mine?
people can fuck you up
tell me if you’ve heard this one before
I didn’t know her face
but her moves were familiar she
said she needed to be loved but she wasn’t
ready to bleed for it I understood
that I’d done my share of bleeding I’ve drowned in my own tears
I don’t let that shit in my house this poor boy don’t believe in romance but I’ll adhere to anything that makes me feel real life gives me all I need and I don’t ask for much I’m just looking for a friend not a nursemaid or a crutch
I found some
raw material
on the back
seat of the bus
a thousand
original recipes
written from
the heart
I’ll smother
them in gravy
and pass
them off as my own
isn’t fiction just a kernel of truth hidden in a lie? aren’t all writers prostitutes and thieves? some words are designed to mislead but other words have x ray powers that penetrate the soul
I want to write in those words
in crazy
neon letters ten feet tall
I know I’d
get off on that
let me tell
you why
I stood up to this
life and I want to get that down on paper one day I’ll find the words I’m looking
for and leave them on the bus for some other sucker to find it’ll be my message in a bottle my little gift to posterity much of it will be bullshit but some of it will be me
when I was young
I hurt my eyes
staring into the sun
for days after
the image of the sun
was fused into my mind…
I came out of nowhere
but that don’t mean a thing when
you’re twelve years old I was always a
book worm because knowledge is
power while ignorance only forges shackles every saturday morning I’d head to the
library always the library the temple
of knowledge my sanctum
sanctorum the source of my power where the blinding light of reason flooded my busy retinas and fed my hungry mind I was sparked into being in the cauldron of ideas I learned to question everything as everything questioned me to think about my thinking because that’s what I am that’s what I understand
they tell me
bad is back
but that’s
not where I’m at
I just
stepped outside
the sun
spoke to me
she said ‘get
high’
and I’m glad
to comply
why don’t
you step out too?
shed your aggravations
get yourself
a new gimmick
it’s nice to
be nice
and I like
to feel nice, don’t you?
I’ll salt my beer
with my own fucking
tears
I tried
everything twice
it always turned
out bogus
why can’t I
be forgiven?
who made me
the enemy?
I don’t want
to be on the outside
nose pressed
against the window
so who wrote
the rules
that made me
the loser?
maybe we’re
all fucking losers
did you ever
think of that?
still, you’d
rather lose a lover
than love a
fucking loser
don’t mind
me
I’m not
bitter
I’m not
sweet either
I’ve been
rolling snake eyes
since the
game began
I can’t win
for losing
it’s the
story of my life
