Sharks

I moved in short term

with the rhythm section

of the collection crew

I got no musical vibrations

but with a beak full of sugar

I’m a fucking metronome

relentless and industrious

regular as clockwork

and thorough in my executions

finesse was not required

they only wanted a bagman

to carry their bad news

I chow down good

I always clear my plate

‘cause you never know

just when you’ll be without

working with the collection crew

you see all kinds of mistakes

and how they can accumulate

but I’m all dummied up

and completely confidential

when it comes to individual cases

you slot your secrets in your pants

they might pay dividends one day

we are the shape of the real

your terminal destination

and we lay the hard edge

to your unspecified nightmares

those inchoate fears of yours

originate in our kitchen

where we cook up solutions

to your specific problems

and collect the promissory notes

you issued in your ignorance

we are the remedy to ambition

the murderers of dreams

.

Do Not Resuscitate

there’s no will left in me

I’m so fucking tired

I took to my grave

these birthing pains

sometimes prove fatal

poor boys and sinners

can fall by the way

I’m crashing out

of corporeal duties

just bury me shallow

in case I grow restless

and hang up a sign

saying do not resuscitate

before judgement day

Windswept

I wrote words for you

they were stolen by the wind

and never reached your ears

but I wonder if you felt them

and if I’m feeling yours

Blood Oath

I’m the catalyst of chaos

I’ve passed the edge of reason

and have my monster rolling

from dusk til dawn and back again

for I have banished sleep

there’s no place to lay my head

and no comfort in my bed

I have a system wide vexation

between them winding sheets

I’m the prince of petty tyrants

the harbinger of death

I shall not be dissuaded

I swore upon my dagger

that I’d have my pound of flesh

I vow upon my blood

and vouch it with my life

my mind is firmly set

and I cannot let it rest

I’m the locus of despite

the calculus of treason

I have laid my bloody plans

and keep my killing stones

sharpened and in reach

there’s nothing you can do

to escape your sorry fate

I’m going to get to you

no matter what it takes

I’m the demon in your nightmare

the villain of the piece

I already dug our graves

for I made a bloody pact

and cannot be released

and when this war is over

I still shall not know peace

I’m hostage to my savagery

and a servant of the beast

Mayans

it was the edge of science

on the boundary of belief

the sky was inky starless

but we were aqua marine

and folded in our sleeves

where we shielded our eyes

from the mystery

of an unscheduled eclipse

I seen moon men

sliding down the walls

the carnival of chaos

pervades my waking dreams

I’m sick, real sick

fetch me a doctor

the world of playground killers

and routine atrocity

has gotten me down

all I want is to feel a little better

but what’s the point?

it’s the slow pressure that kills a man

the acceptance of futility

when he stops fighting

he starts dying

when he starts dying

he forgets how to live

Jesus weeps

time runs out

entropy wins at a crawl

the dying days of planet Earth

the doomsday curse

a million extinct Mayans

can’t all be wrong

Power

she said the right things
she wore the right clothes
took the right drugs
read the right books
and listened to the right music
but she wasn’t right for me
there was something about her
that made me feel uneasy
she was too eager to please
her every action was
designed to gratify my needs
you’d think I’d enjoy that
but you’d be wrong
I felt caged by her love
I had all the power
and it proved a burden
.
we had a friendship
that caught fire
it was a matter of time
before we got burned
the love we shared
had a gravity of its own
it began to drag us down
it had to end somewhere
and it ended badly
one rainy night
it simply dissolved
she said she hated me
I didn’t doubt that
she wore her love
like and open wound
it was bound to leave a scar
.

The Ninth Life

on the journey back

from the crematorium

silent and heavy hearted

I saw a dead cat in the road

its ninth life had been dashed

on the black tar macadam

it looked like it was sleeping

but I knew that it was broken

and was never going home

they say cats have nine lives

while men have only one

yet a man can die

a thousand deaths

before his days are done

.

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

Once Bitten

we were enslaved

by your petty regulations

once bitten

twice shy

was a callous methodology

simply operant conditioning

with a practised brutal flourish

spare the rod and spoil the brat

was the dullard ideology

visited on your youth and mine

I saw the dust behind your eyes

you were old beyond your years

something inside you

had already died

every mother’s child

has a thousand teachers

and I was an early receiver

of your twisted ideation

tuned to your negative acuity

I learned to tread lightly

whenever you were around

Dew Drops

she went about her business

with kindness and good grace

and where she trod

little miracles sparkled

as morning dew drops

reflecting the dawning sun

like tiny prisms

diffracting and recombining

into a million rainbows

which lit the hearts

of whoever fell within

the spectrum of her love

everyone who loved her

carries that light still

.

Orpheus

you are not Orpheus

you can save no-one

you are not Christ

you shall not rise again

everybody dies

there are no exceptions

you can’t cheat death

we must live with that

once you’re gone

you can’t come back

it’s a law of nature

you can’t fight it

loss is the price we pay

for the love we share

everybody dies

and that knowledge

costs us dear

* image: Hades and Persephone listen to Orpheus’ song in the Underworld.

5132: H. Bissen, 1798 – 1868.

Machiavellian

it’s the strangers you know

that generate the most heat

those that have your confidence

are the most likely to betray you

you held my gaze a little too long

I suspect you’ve made a bad call

the arsehole of humanity

is a regular garden of eden

for the hungry devotees

of the cockroach god

go give your face a wash

you have blood on your chin

rearrange your killing stones

we’re in for heavy weather

you pledged your solidarity

with a murderous mechanism

you tried to steal my name

so you could write it in the gutter

.