dagger

there is no gelt     in this writing lark      no real profit      no final reward      just a hunger      an insatiable need         to press the keys        and play the notes         that fill the page       all writing is futile      I can’t express how I feel        not in so many words     I’d like to take my pain      roll it into a ball       and stuff it in your mouth    so you’d be mute like me       your seams leaking      blotting your copy book      with a silent crimson scream

 “The only good poet is a dead poet.”

I like my words jagged    as crocodile teeth       dirty as a whore’s tongue       and rabid as the breath of infected dogs        I don’t require prettifying           or disinfecting      keep those nice words       for old ladies       to sprinkle on their cakes      I want you to feel me in you     I have no time       for ambiguity          or tickling ears       I want to ram my words       right down your throat            one day I’ll find the beat       that forces the rhythm          of my concoction          into your heart       like a fucking dagger

god must die

 god is dead     long live god   the god of mercy   that sacrificial lamb    paved the way for the church of sex and violence    we are all subscribers now     to the show that never stops    

we kill god again   and again    every time we murder innocence    when we kill for killings sake   when we make children enemies of the state   we doubled up on that shit   we never tire of killing gods

happiness is fleeting   but your pain will always be attended   god whispers to us in our joy     and screams at us in our pain     I murder god in my sleep   in my very dreams   I murder god for breakfast   before I start the day   

our prayers are an admission of our weakness     ours is a hunger that cannot be satisfied   we were meant for some other world    some world of eternal love    because of what remains for us    faith    and hope    and love    the latter is sovereign in our hearts   they say the darker the night    the brighter the stars    the deeper the despair    the closer to god    and that is why god must die

mendacious

 

there are things you never forget     especially things that didn’t happen    the past is what we remember    or pretend to remember   it’s purely subjective    there is no past really    just shady memories   and stories we tell ourselves

there’s no real distinction between the true and false   most things are neither   most of what people say is evasion   to expose the poverty within ourselves   is a frightening possibility    best to make something up   do a little dance   and hope no-one is watching

I don’t remember you    I remember me    and what I thought of you    I had you pegged as a liar    but we are all liars   our lives are one big lie   and our lies are beautiful   they help us perfect who we are

don’t all lies lead inexorably to the truth?   is there not a kernel of truth in every lie?   all stories    true or false   lead to the same conclusions    sometimes lies are easier to swallow than truths   the truth can blind    but lies merely illuminate

we are all actors in our lives    we just pretend to be who we want people to think we are     as actors each must play their part as if it were real    but we are all of us works of fiction     in this world of monstrous truths    it’s probably just as well

 

listen to the Creature EP

homo rejectus

 

I’m not gonna tell you porkies    I was only ever as good   as   circumstance demanded   my virtue was a thin veneer    which obscured my need   there’s shit I’ll do    and there’s shit I won’t   but I feel less inclined    to go that extra mile    no    not for strangers   not for no cunt    for out of sight   is out of mind

 

I used to put it about   back when I had the tackle   but now I’m invitation only  and three square daily    the world is full of fools   present company excepted   we’re all just waiting    for nothing specific    we’re just waiting    it’s the game we all play  

 

my angle of inversion is acute    I waste a lot of time    concocting excuses    and orchestrating cancellations    I guess that’s no big secret   but what they don’t know    is that I’m the evolutionary response   to collective neurosis   the final adaption    the end of the line

COVID blue

 

COVID 19 was the catalyst that painted us blue   if you weren’t crazy before you sure are now   when I look outside    I see nothing    when I look inside    I see less    I’m on emotional lockdown   all is blank   and suffocating   my happiness is long overdue     another bus that won’t be coming soon

schizophrenic pandemic aggression   may hold us in a confinement beyond physical arrest   some minds will corrode with the loss of personal liberty    others might grow morbid and lonely    but I banquet on my own thoughts    and sing like a caged bird

oh lordy   don’t cut me no slack   I’m making no applications   for beneficiary status     I require no validation    from abstract strangers   or fawning supplicants    lead me not to redemption    but deliver me from   the tender mercies   of holy rollers   and curtain twitching   superintendent   do gooders

I’m your regular egoist   who recognises the limitations   circumscribed by charity   and I know that   sometimes you have to cut a sucker loose   before he drags you down   these are the days of pestilence and woe   my kettle’s on the boil    and my cup is overflowing   with final demands and hate mail   but you won’t catch me    counting any beads   I’d rather risk insolvency   than go on bended knees

vox dei

 

I was certified ordinary at the lollipop factory    but an undetected defect seized me by the knackers     and I seen the god of babylon riding on his chariot    through the cooperative store    and I seen he had sharks eyes    cold and dead and joyless   and he was just a boy   a youth of eternal summer   but he made my blood run cold    I’d give that cunt a wide berth     but he’s the master of this world

sweet pilgrim you’d better beware    so many people around you are phonies    and you could be a phony too    and never know   there was a time you knelt in prayer   and the words were a comfort to you     now you suspect you were only talking to yourself    and that the god you built from old stories and wishful thought   has a veracious appetite     and he gorges on his makers day and night    that god is the fountain of all lies    and a parchment of your imagination

stop

one drop     two     three drops     four     feed me to the scum suckers     pour flash in my pan     rifle me     stifle me     blow me from the rafters     fuck me     in the brain stem     but     deliver me from arseholes     enthralled in semantic developments     I have no need for enemies     when my friends     will bite my tongue     that union of close affiliates     and worn out excuses     lit my funeral pyre     with a bluebell match     and a kerosene drum

always     mostly     arseholes flee     from any thought     that might rattle their cages      but my pen is    mightier than my sword      and made these pages mine     before they had names     when these words were thoughts    and vague recollections      my head was mince      I’d had a proper seeing to      later I crept home     half arsed incognito      having formed the opinion    that all is either lost     or found      while groping in the dark

once satiated     my dying manhood     glistened in the lamplight    what’s that the symbol of?    I howled with laughter    I’m a dirty old mongrel      why don’t I stop       cock stop     stop cock    why don’t you     just stop     stop     stop it     fasten the impulse     reject the necessary      stop     stop where sign says red     red means stop          stop means stop

soledad

I have an itch   I need to scratch    but it’s beyond my reach    it’s on the inside   where the piranha shoal    and old wounds fester    in the inky black    it’s dark outside    but it’s darker in     the night claws it’s way     into my room    with tedious certainty    my lights are lit   and curtains drawn    my barricades   against it all

the weight of gloom    e x p a n d i n g    invades my skin    filling me with darkness   and  I’m small     and all alone    so very far from home     here at the edge of the world    there is silence  in my bones    this world provides no nourishment    for those who feel alone

is all life lonely   and lacking purpose   despite the masks that we all wear?   that prospect is appalling   loneliness is the most terrible poverty   sex has always been my consolation    when I can’t have love      but that’s no use now    because I’m all alone   and now there is a great big hole   where she used to be     and I have fallen in    and can’t climb out   

can you feel too much?   or feel in the wrong way?   is every man an island on a cruel and lonely sea?    loneliness is so human   and it scares the shit out of me   the way it burrows into you    leaves a mark on your soul   we can never outgrow loneliness   and no-one can fill that space   the best you can do    is do for yourself   fuck everybody else