Abattoir

 

I was there.  Were you?  When the stupid turned cruel and cruelty was celebrated as a virtue.  They put a price on life.  It wasn't very high.  You won't get a nickel for your ounce of solid soul.  Mother, look at the troubles we wrought.  We are dropping bombs on children.  Nothing is sacred in our philosophy.  We have made an abattoir of our beautiful world.  She is stained crimson from all the lives we have rendered meat.  There's no absolution for our crimes.  Our tears will not cleanse our bloody hands and our prayers will not stave our certain defeat.

the great lie

 

punch a hole in the great lie    punch a hole for me     all government is based on lies     some more so than others     we choose our own oppressors     thank you very much      it’s the best of all possible systems      the leader told us so    he likes to keep a high profile      he’s always on TV   kicking butts and taking names      keeping us safe from our enemies    he’s the champion of fixers     a man of uncommon sense    the nation’s beset by villains    he’s going to sort them out     and in the final refinement of evil     he claims that god is on his side      

criminal energy

 the game's a bogey

they cheated again

they always do

I'm not a criminal

but I have that energy

so I know a crook

when I see one

and I see them everywhere

some of them are pretty lush

so powerful they embody the state

their prices have just gone up

they were always pretty high

they can't lock you up inside

for possessing a criminal mind

but they can give you the keys

to the medicine cabinet

and the access codes

to their doomsday device

year zero

 

you’d better look sharp     you’d better stand tall      you make yourself a target        if they see you crawl      you know where we’re at     it’s not your first bloody nose      and it won’t be your last       smell that?      that’s the stench of fear     I can smell it everywhere      it’s that year zero fragrance    a bitter concoction     that’s been a long time brewing      in this war between ideologies    you’d better choose your enemies       before they choose you       they got your name and number      there’s nowhere you can hide      coz revolution is fomenting       in the universal mind

critical thinking

 

all news is fake news in this phony babylon    legacy media    alternative media     they are all products of dodgy rhetoric as far as I’m concerned    no-one tells me what to think     I bang my own drum     I think for myself and no-one else    coz it’s a mugs game     towing the party line      for those parasitic heroes who are in it for the blood     little men cast giant shadows before a setting sun      in their world of silhouettes and chinese whispers      it’s hard to get your facts on straight      don’t believe what you’re handed on a platter   do your own research     it’s not just what you think that matters      but how you think for yourself      

Jonah and the whale

 

“Now the Lord had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah…”

I know an allegory when I see one. This is a tale of redemption and forgiveness.  You better obey the Lord, because he can fuck you up. I empathise with Jonah.  I have been fucked up. When my friends cast lots against me, the world swallowed me whole. My three days and nights lasted an eternity – until I finally discerned the truth. You can take that fishy story with a pinch of salt. Don’t take any text literally. Call it poetic licence. Sometimes fictions make more sense than facts. That doesn’t make them true, they just come disguised like that. The truth part is up to you.

There are fictions we choose to believe. There are fictions we can’t see.  We might as well be blind if stories have us crouching in the dark. We might as well be deaf if we will not hear the truth screaming in our ears.   We are only as honest as our curiosity.  It’s curiosity that wields the blade with which we dissect ideas. We were gifted with minds, so that we could think for ourselves. That’s what makes us human beings. That’s what being human is. If there’s a spark of divinity in that, it was born within our minds.

music for parties

 we’re all about the night      so go on      give it a little extra     stick the boot right in    we’ve been waiting on something special       it’s time you took your turn       let’s get out of our skins       we can celebrate together      puncture the night with song      tonight will live forever    coz the party never ends      where young hearts run wild and strong

precious

some cats take the hump      at the slightest provocation      they expect to be offended      in fact, they must be offended      it’s a form of self defence       something they learned when they were young        they think they’re pretty tough       because they make a fuss       but then, everybody’s tough      until they take a kicking       the knowledge of certain death     will concentrate the mind     on the important things in life    

some cats cultivate an air of sobriety     it’s not so easy to offend a sober mind      I have spilled some wine      but I was diving for pearls     I used to think I was precious         until I stepped off the edge of the world     now I have nothing to defend     I no longer take offense      it’s a queer kind of freedom      that sets a man against himself     but  I see every aggravation as  a personal test    coz my enemy lies within     if that makes any sense

anthem of the heart

 is this my reality?    did I bake it myself?     or was it imposed on me?      I have to know where I am     or I won’t find my way home     and I’ll have no place to sleep       when there’s sleeping to be done       I have to know what’s mine and leave the rest alone      whatever path I take     I’ll keep a piece of myself apart      coz I was born a singular being      nothing changes that      but everything I do    becomes a part of me     so I never steal more than I can carry     

I followed the ideology of sex, drugs and violence       but nothing gulfed the chasm I felt inside     love was supposed to cure me of that      but there’s no honey in any philosophy that advocates slavery     I march to the sound of a different drum     the freedom I seek lies within    where a revolutionary heart ignites my conscience       I’ve heard many different singers     interpret this same song     they often change the lyrics      but they seldom get it wrong

love the sinner

 I’m not really tired       but they say a rest is as good as a change     so, I’m off upstairs     where the stars might anoint my eyes     with a billion kisses     that hopefully sew my eyes shut     and send me happy dreams       I’m rolling over into tomorrow       when I might get some relief

I made a deal with god     at least, I think it was god     it was dark      and he didn’t speak     but I’m holding him to it      or I’ll cancel my subscription      my demands were quite reasonable      I need a little peace     I’m working on my memoir     the diary of a thief     in part a work of fiction     it outlines my beliefs

I’m not a holy roller      I don’t really believe in god      I don’t believe in little green men     or anything supernatural     but it’s part of my naïve charm     to believe preposterous things      I believe that words are magical      that music is sacred      that facts are often fictions     and fictions are as powerful as facts    I believe that love is the only agency      that can save humanity

I can love for no real reason      without knowing why     or when    or where     or if it is proper     or even appropriate       I could open up      as an ever blossoming flower     to love in my imagination     or with my flesh and bone     the universe conspires to bring me love     for there is madness in love     that’s why madmen make the best lovers

you have to love the sinner    even if you hate the sin      I have previous convictions    I have loved too much     and I have loved too little     I paid my debt to society     my heart’s been broken     I bled out for a bit     but I learned to love my enemies      and I’m prepared to loathe my friends    love can turn you inside out     there’s no room for caution with love     I’m ready to let it kill me      because everyone will take a piece     but some are worth the pain

all change

 today is not the day       but it’s closer     I can feel it       we’re on the cusp of change      everything can change       we shape the world we live in      it changes with our thinking       if we do not cast our skins we die      and so we must continue       we discarded our humanity today        we will reap our tears tomorrow

a time of monsters

 in a time of monsters       I’m struggling to stay sane       things are all fucked up     and make no mistake       we could wind up anywhere      and I fear we will      folks who live in glass houses      are gathering their stones      they plan to fight alfresco       in the streets and city squares      the first denunciations have already been logged     it’s just a matter of time       the death of society      is only a heartbeat away       it’s every man for himself       in this cruel new economy

 

individual

I know your game     you’re trying to drag me in       but you can’t get next to me    coz your words are just fireflies      they flash real pretty        but I can’t get a grip of them     you say your crimes were circumstantial         that you’re older and wiser now      and you’ve served your time     but still can’t catch a break      you’re in a rut      and your cage isn’t getting any bigger       you say we’re shaped by experience      maybe     I don’t know    I’m just another layer of fiction      I’m not my daddy       or my daddy’s daddy       I’m the child of intent        the one who committed the crime      I want to take the stand      I know  which words to say      I struck a match in my life      and burned the bastard down      but I rose from the ashes      gloriously formed       a trenchant individual       who swims against the tide

rodeo

this is not for me      the autumnal rust of gradual decay      I want another bite of the cherry please     call me greedy     call me immature      but I’m willing to adopt an attitude here      I’ll show you something you can understand      they ripped the wings off my guru      for flying too close to the truth      they won’t do that with me    coz I tell too many lies       I’m ready now to live   straightjacket calm      and tooled up with mental dynamite      but this ain’t no goddamn rodeo       no, this is a fucking zoo       there’s chaos in the monkey house    and I can’t get with that      I think I’m going back     to a simpler place and time      to treasures I once buried      somewhere in my mind

 

bauble

 in the spirit of the season    I wish you peace, love and understanding     I wish it for myself too      coz I always dragged the low end    until one day    I ran out of grievances       now I’m just another probationary human being      trying to do good     when I can afford it     and I can afford it     more often than not       but I’m unfit for a society      that’s unfit for me       I’ll always be a criminal   a heretic   a fool

I’ve been searching for something that has no name     so what was it I wanted?       I think that I’ve forgotten     there are words     and then there are words      but words alone won’t suffice       and I won’t be losing sleep      over secrets I keep from you     it’s evident that I think too much      you may think I’m high      but I’m just pretending     I emptied my mind into a bucket     and found this bauble fomenting there

aesop

'kudos big man     you’ve got it all sown shut    no cunt’s doin’ what you’re doin’    I don’t know what you’re selling   but it’s the dog’s bollocks    cannot get enough    you should publish brother     you’ll make a fucking mint…'   

another punter gets a free dose   and says he liked it   but I’ll never see him again     I don’t really mind    but it’s paying customers I need     before I’m weaving shadows      and I’m moth-eaten    wafer thin

I got papers going back decades    they’re worth something to me     but they won’t pay the rent     I know stories that pay off     with a kick in the knackers      I stitched them all together     on endless reams of pulp     I’ll read you one now      for a small consideration     simply grease my pocket   I’ll pour moonshine in your ear     it won’t taste all that sweet    but I promise you won’t care

individuals

 there’s no rest for the wicked        I should know         I get no rest         even in my sleep      I sing the watered down blues       old men’s songs       idiot verse for the hard of thinking        god has blessed the common people       they got nothing but pipe dreams and empties        but they shall inherit the earth       it’s a bovine compact        strictly for the herd       that’s an evolutionary advance over the individual           the individual don’t stand a chance        I should know       I got bread but no butter        I’m a rare commodity        like dragon’s teeth          no-one has ever seen any        but we’ve all seen the movies      where everyone’s an individual      hero of some dime store melodrama airing on daytime television       along with our life insurance options and burial plans    coz in the midst of life there is death       and in the midst of death there are tears          old men sing the watered down blues        and the herd fashion icons from their dust

 

home

 home is where your head’s at     and my head’s at home    I ain’t stashing empty bottles      behind no shotgun shack     I’m organised for life    here in the digital world      I changed the lock on my door      and threw away the key    I’m walking that line      fingers crossed behind my back     

it’s fuel for life    totally automatic      sustenance by numbers        maybe it’s the environment       that best suits my clothing       or perhaps the process of osmosis       has slowly filtered out my ambition      but I’ve seen the world outside     and now I’m staying in

dust

 my words are carried to you     through electrical transcription     I type them out downtown      you hear them in your mind      I think I lost my mojo       to another cinnamon girl      do elephants keep diaries?     coz I remember every sorry kiss       how quickly we fade out       how slowly we ride on        the threshold of my mind      is bitter sweet with memories         baby. comfort me     coz I’m sorry now      sorry for all my lies       I went wrong       but in my own right      I simply wouldn’t follow       it’s the story of my life

minefields

 are you up too early?    or down too late?    did someone steal your dreams?    or did you give them away?    maybe that’s a question    for some other time     coz I’m the bastard son     of a bastard son      just another lazy sod      with magic in his pants     and I’d love to stir your pot      in the horizontal dance     

there’s been a revolution     though no-one fired a shot     our brave new monsters     are conscientiously amoral     totally natural     adjusted to the vicissitudes of love      and the demands of iconoclast

does it burn?      does it itch?    don’t get your knickers in a twist     stop  your sobbing     dry your eyes     I didn’t break your heart     I only bent your mind    it’s not your first disappointment    and likely won’t be your last    modern romance is a minefield     and that just cracks me up