demonic

 

coming out of hospital      I suffered a century of frenzied depression      where every failure  and humiliation was played back to me on an endless loop of shame        what caused this horror show?     -  my shrink has been barking up the wrong tree here -  because it was parasitic beings    demonic possession       that’s what was wrong with me      I needed an exorcism     holy magic to wash my blood clean      a ritual sacrifice      something symbolic       a virgin whore     a calf of gold     or something of similar dimensions     instead they beat me with psychiatric clubs

with certain forms of demonic infestation     there is a crazy person who despises the human race and it’s illusions     he longs to trample them into the blood stained earth      when you hear of human atrocity     think of demonic beings      sick, depraved beings      with eyes filled with blood      and mouths full of cancer      in a world of anger and hatred    demons are the masters       they play with idle hands      and make war within tortured minds

suckers

I was reading my tea leaves when my arse hit the fan        maybe I’m not who I seem to be     outwardly I’m sanguine     but inside I’m nourishing ancient grudges     my past is a poisoned river     but what’s done is done     my tears will not erase my exploits    I stopped crying a long time ago     when I realized that all lives are built on lies    some are harmless      others brutal     I have told lies that were fucking biblical      and frankly preposterous    but people believed them       Christ, I believed them too      the world is full of suckers    who never catch a break      I’m the biggest sucker of them all    I contrived to fool myself

soul sickness

 

christ, I hate the daily grind     the bravest thing I do is live every day      I tried to evade it    I even tried suicide   but in my attempts to escape pain I was only creating more pain     and not just for me     I shared my pain    it’s communicable that way    I think too much     it’s a disease    thinking too much      I’m coming down hard again     I have a bad case of the bends      I’m trapped again  in limbo    snared by the pain in my mind   

I’ve been trifling with psychiatrists    they’re a bit like lovers     first they fuck with your head       then they break your heart    because there is no fucking cure     mental illness is an immense organism dedicated to fucking up the entire human project      I’d rather have anything wrong with my body     if I could just be right in my head      how can an illness be mental?     I got soul sickness      that’s what I’ve got      I got soul sickness    and I’m fading away fast

psycho ward

 I’m a seasoned performer   I’ve played this gig before    the mind jarring   hallucinations      the confusion of signs and significance    all new oblique angles and novel geometries      vast oceans of awkward instance    it’s a total mindfuck acid burn   but I’ll keep my head down     go by the numbers      ‘til I’m discharged and I can go home

going home?    I thought I was      they won’t let me leave     they say my blood is toxic and I’m in the danger zone     coz someone mixed my meds up and dealt me a lethal dose     now I’m scared like never before      it all seems real     of course it does     I suspect it is    but I won’t let on    I’ll just dummy up tight     least said, soonest mended    

they tubed me up   and leeched my blood    pending the obligatory psychiatric interrogation      when they issued me with papers    and stuck me here in the psycho ward    where they can better observe my exploits    my prognosis still looks scary    the devil is at the door    the main event this moment    is the battle for my soul     

lightning struck

 

good morning suckers       and how is your head today?     me, I’ve no grounds for complaint      flashbacks not withstanding     this remission business is a blast    I think I found my balance       the mundane seems less ordinary        I got my music        got my books       got no money       what else is new?      I no longer hear the thunder       I am not lightning struck       I don’t suffer the manic maelstrom      and I don’t give a fuck

sickened

 

I’m trying to make sense of my pain       does that mean I’m crazy?     should I have turned the other cheek?        dare I demand recompense?     I was suddenly swiped by a bus    my barely human remains     slickened the street      my brain dashed on the pavement        leaking out my dreams

sick thoughts can devour a body     I’m crawling through shadows     I need a little sunlight     maybe I’ll take a walk      perhaps I’ll just rot here in my room     don’t take me to the hospital      I have friends there who won’t seek remedies       they got a bag with my name on it   

don’t mind me      I am just a fool       lost in the vacuum of the universe       mine is the madness of spirit     that leaps into the abyss       without a single care in the world       I fell and kept on falling     there’s no centre to my existence     I’m a leper      and an outcast      I may have lost my bearings      but I might be heading home

Casanova

 

maybe I have a pornographic mindset     perhaps just a lonely heart      I am my own master     and I have tasted freedom      I’ve been told I was greedy       but how much is too much?      how much is too little?      I think I’ve had my share      some say that’s quite enough       but let me tell you      it can never be enough      things were different for me       you have to allow for that      I was doing my favourite thing     and paying dearly for the pleasure     for I embraced the world      and every sinner in it

crazy

 

the god we made is crazy      but everybody’s  crazy     you have to be fucking crazy    to live in this crazy world

I’m not the first to realize  that I’m a little crazy      my doctors say it’s normal      given the circumstances     they said a little poison would cure me of my ills     so they dosed me up on lithium        and locked me up in a hospital      until I learned to play nice

and you dear reader      do you recognize your madness?     do you let it shine before you?      or does it drag you down?      the symptoms after all     are part of human nature    so embrace your inner lunatic    and give your madness life    

 

incognito

 

I identify as human      but ’ll admit to bogus credentials     mine is an assumed identity     I’m really not the man that I appear to be      my history is fiction      I lack a legitimate story     on which to  base a life

my whole façade is plastic     it takes on many forms      it conceals some dreadful truths       I do my best to hide       I’m a divided man      with all the heartache that implies     there are  wars I wage in secret        that cannot be described

treatment

 

it was bad news all round     I’d been punished for my crimes      they put me in the hospital     to sanitize my mind    it felt like I’d been damned    condemned to a living hell      it altered my reality      though no one else could tell    it was a sorrowful dark experience     as ugly as it gets     I’m so I’m grateful for the treatment        but I haven’t recovered yet …

Pagliacci

 

I have played the clown     most of my adult life      my humour concealed my pain     though sometimes I would weep    when laughter let me down     I’ve been careful with my mask      it’s been no mask at all     I’ve been up     I’ve been down     my heart has done the rounds      but I learned through indiscretion      to never wear a frown     I’m not a clever man     but I do the best I can     I’m told god grants fools wisdom        when there’s no one else around

crucified

 

some things cannot be gleaned from books       some things are learned in blood    anyway     the lights are going out now    and I’m pinioned to my cross     sweet mother of heaven       hear me in my time of need     let me cast one last spell     channel my pain into something beautiful       

I’ve nursed one disaster after another     and there are terrible confessions hidden behind my eyes      coz I bent myself outta shape      trying to satisfy the needs of others     now I require something for myself     don’t judge me    I’m not stoned     I’m just tired     fatigued by the extremities of being     I know I made a cunt of myself    but I didn’t mean to prick anyone  else   with this crown of thorns

gagged

 

they locked me up       for speaking my mind        because truth is violence    in their insane world       I was drunk on freedom        and the license it gave me      but to think too deeply    is to dig your own grave       I was drunk on freedom      but I overreached   now I’m the odd man out      in a party of strangers        queer bedfellows      both orphans and strays      in this menagerie      of singular outsiders    I found a voice    to unlock their secrets       yes, I found a voice       but it was not my own

the fool

 

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

in shadows

 

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    

inertia

 

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

sober

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

the cloak of madness

 

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

Doxy

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

Diablero

 

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.