another revelation…

 the following message contains profane language and subversive rhetoric…

do crazy people worship insane gods?      where is the great psychiatrist in the sky?    I just realised I’m in the middle of a revolution    no-one knows what the fuck is going on       another weary year drags its sorry arse  through the exit     I’m tempted to follow it      but I don’t have the stones    the worst thing that happened to me last year     was myself      I have failed again     but perhaps I failed better

I want to play a dangerous game      I want to change    they say if change your mind     you change everything        I’m just the fiction my daddy copied from his daddy      surely I can improve on that shit storm     the moral of the story is clear     I’ve been    ordinary    and I am bored     I’ll staple that to my knackers    and let out a roar       concoct a story     that conceals my embarrassment    or confess      confess     according to my sins     and seek absolution      with blood wet on my hands  

we all do what we want to do     eventually     and we all get what we deserve    I was promised an invincible summer    burning somewhere in my heart     maybe I’ll sing it out until I feel better    I’ll know when my moment comes    I’ll just take the reigns     and make it mine     anyway      I’ll own the real world whenever I see it       I’ll tread with angels to speak the truth       and strike a pact with my idiot god     he understands my madness    because he’s mental too     he issued a manifesto     of troublesome delights    where says he’ll set the world on fire      if we don’t meet his demands

 

the golden crown

 the birdies are singing       a new day is dawning       sunlight fans across the land       powdered gold lights the treetops         nature issues her one command       there’s a majesty to every season    but summer has reigned      since the world first began

morning glory

I’m tumbling out of bed      lit up like christmas day      swept up on the surging tide     of sexual energy     deep within our hearts   we long for ecstasy     a tornado of desperate happiness     that sweeps us off our feet    when did you last feel euphoric?    when was your moment of bliss?   teach me how to love you    show me what you need     because I loved you in the darkness    a secret in my soul     but now we’re meeting flesh to flesh     I’m losing self control

 

 

Wonders

my grandfather

that beautiful old man

shared such treasures with me

tales of adventure and discovery

in distant dark continents

and the cycle of the seasons

in the land we called home

he named the constellations

and revealed the golden ratio

at the heart of nature’s symmetry

he always maintained

that the universe was made

of those little treasures

he passed along to me

and that knowledge is a jewel

to be prized beyond riches

he was not a wealthy man

some might call him poor

but when he left this world

he had bequeathed me wonders

Golden Apples

channelling

exclusively

via satellitic intent

this monomaniac

is deeply fixated

on our nearest star

and that’s where

you’ll find him

from now on

lost in an orchard

dazzling bright

stealing golden apples

from the heart of the sun

.

Hungry

that’s me there   face to face   with the back of the crowd   fetching awkward angles between my toes    it’s always seemed that symmetry eluded me and I was dissolving fractions in a decimal world   a feline soul in a canine cosmos    I told a big stripey lie that painted me a permanent crimson and soaked my banner with piss ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

that was thirty years or so ago    and there’s been plenty of action under the bridge since then    it sometimes feels really late    but that’ll be the times    I developed humour as a mechanism to lubricate those rapidly diminishing hours   burdens borne with a smile sometimes feel like blessings in disguise……….…………………………………..

those hooks and punch lines are mine to own    but they aren’t all jokes   half of them are true   I hawk them anyway because there is little else to say    people expect lies in these days of photo-shopped selfies and fictitious biographies    so I get away with the odd deprecating truth    as long as I sugar coat them     no one accepts the sour any more     their palettes are acclimatised to saccharine and the soft candy floss of mediocrity……………..…………………………………………..

I stood in a long queue to receive short shrift and a parcel of unwelcome platitudes    I’m not complaining mind you    I got to where I am by the circuitous route    but I got here just the same    I’m quite comfy in my hollow    and if things are now slower than they once were    it’s only because I was speeding in the first place    it was always post-haste and frantic stratagems with me    I was hungry the way only poor boys are hungry    I’m still hungry    but it's an old man's hunger

Flight

At a run we could leap between the garages quite easily. The wooden rooftops would give our footfalls an extra spring and help us to build up momentum until we reached the final garage in the row. Then we would launch ourselves into the air with a final thrust, our arms and legs still flailing as if we were running on air. We experienced a moment of exhilarating flight then, a moment of ecstatic buoyancy, before gravity took hold and we landed with a thud on the grassy ground. We would compete to see who could fly the furthest. My brother Tommy was the best flier by yards. He was part bird, my brother Tommy.