art

 I feel the need of infinite love    and very often find it     within the ebb and flow of the turning tides   in the ocean of my heart    sometimes I’m totally miserable    sometimes I’m euphoric     I get low      I get high     it’s a  cross that I must bear    but I’m not defined by my defects     you can’t use them against me      because I’m a work of art     expressed in bold strokes of light and shade       a spectrum of pleasure and pain     creativity and passion       and when all my colours fade to grey     I still have music inside me     there is no power in heaven or hell     can ever take that away

hagiography

dark and shameful secrets    occupy my mind      there’s poison in my politics   madness in my plans       I’m a killer in my dreams     an assassin with a smile    I have to get with the program      I have countless graves to fill       I’m a prisoner of my past    my memories haunt me still    the propulsive power of mania     illuminates my plight     so dial me another doctor     who ain’t afraid to fight      who’ll salve my exquisite pain    and shield my innocent eyes    till I find a place in heaven        where no-one ever dies      I may have spoken with angels        it might have been a dream      we’re talking about a world     where nothing is as it seems     but I have to believe in something      it’s a basic human need    

a sky song

if I was caught in a storm     and somehow swallowed lightning     got all lit up on the inside      so I spoke in the tongue of angels      would you call me crazy?    would you let them lock me up?    because you don’t care about angels       or what they have to say     but it couldn’t hurt your ears      to listen to a friend    

what if it was just a dream?     everybody dreams     but they don’t get confused     because their dreams aren’t real    what if I’m dreaming now?      was I ever truly conscious?     does it matter much to me?    did I let something slip?    does my madness show through?     I had to open up   to allow myself to feel   I’m turning my wounds into knowledge     learning from my mistakes     and planning to make some more   

this world is so seductive     I want to leave no path untrodden   because I’m not afraid to love      though love can be a cruel thing     depending on your angle     love’s a funny word      with many different meanings   I place no faith in words      because all my words are stolen    I tear them from the sky     to weigh for depth and tone      before  I finally rearrange them     to find out what they signify       have I etched a moment of bliss?      or maybe a flicker of a hell?     in certain circumstances     it’s difficult to tell