darker

 slowly turn the tides      to ebb and flow in darkness       what’s the spread today?      am I gonna make it?     coz I feel low      like I’m definitely sinking     there’s a pattern to my days      they grow darker     in procession      I’ve been blunted      and the sun barely reaches        into the hole I’m digging       it could be darker      that’s the way it’s heading       my progress is relentless       the darkness unforgiving

whispers

 we made a compact    right from the very start    we’d be secret lovers    with no strings attached       we were just two thieves      playing with stolen time      and what we shared together     remains buried in our hearts      but I sometimes speak your name       when there’s no one else around      I whisper that I love you       but hardly make a sound

friday's child

 I stared in the mirror     until I no longer recognised my face      but saw in my 

reflection       that friday’s child      is a trumpet of peace      and a sword of 

deliverance       from the forces of darkness

I laid me down      by the still waters    an oasis of life      in the motherless waste       the wisest of fools       will surrender their hearts      to the love universal

I’ve been turned out        with no brass in my pockets      but I count the stars as personal wealth       my home is heaven       this born again loser       who supped with the devil       and drank to his health        

pneuma

 

too many hyenas       not enough lions      no individuals left      in this menagerie     our tribal brothers    fuelled  on junk and weed      are waiting to cut us down to size    but I shall not be shamed   by another’s words or deeds        I am now consigned   to the power that rules my fate         there’s nothing left to fear       in the face of certain death

I am centred now      on myself alone       and on the accumulation

of personal power        I stand  as a singular entity     empty  and without form       I require no validation        I have no points to score     I sacrificed my pretentions          and freed up the space       between myself and the world     to polish my connection      to the man within

sometimes    in the moment    I forget to think about myself    and it feels good    to be that free     I’m tired of looking  in distorted mirrors    and preening my interior    with the kind of self perception     that flatters to deceive

I don’t want to escape     I simply want tuned in     I don’t know where I’m going     I do know where I’ve been   I no longer worry   over the inconsequential    and it’s all inconsequential    as far as I can see    and I can see quite far    on any given day

I do my own thing      it’s the only path that suits me     it’s the path that leads to freedom     no one showed me      I have no method     I have no teachers     it’s easier that way      I am inconspicuous   and self possessed      and that’s the form of freedom      that matters most to me  

 

bitter intentions

 there are some graves       you cannot fill       with drink     or drugs      or sacred vows        some things die           from no good cause        and our grief blossoms       with black and blue petals

we poisoned our prayers          with bitter intentions       and lived to reap       the spoils of conflict       our bloody wounds       are constant reminders         that the pain we deal out      will one day find us

hey dreamer!

 breakfast time       dawn streams      through your blistered eyes       somebody got lucky last night      but it wasn’t you        so pull up yer drawers      and dry your eyes    

don’t make yourself sick      you’ve done no harm today       well, nothing that will stick        so take a shower       roll a joint       get yer metal fixed

hey dreamer!        on yer toes       don’t space out       they’ll go through your pockets       leave you with hee haw        it’s a long walk home        when you’re empty      

you stole a little pleasure      your action was real slick       you had yourself a good time        god knows you felt no pain       but now it’s time  to scuttle home       before they make you pay   

 

magoo

 I think a black cat crossed my wires     and cast me the evil eye     it may have fucked with my mojo     but I don’t seem to mind     coz there’s turmoil in my pockets      and gear on every corner        I have time enough to burn        and the urge is something fierce 

 

all I need is a dab     to lubricate my illusion     and liberate my ego       I lost faith in my identity     and confidence in my face       I’m just a slab of ancient mutton     well  past my sell by date      I’m totally out of contention         and no longer play that game

 

 I‘ve become a jelly man    neck deep in heavy dope      author of a comfortable oblivion   myopically forgetful    empty headed   and exempt      rendered completely harmless       through drug induced psychosis        and I’m easy with that vibe        but only when I’m high

 

blackout

 I got my shit together       just in case      my shit is required        but why should it be?      coz the hour grows late        and I grow tired      I’m a surplus being      no strings attached       all I recall      is the rudimentary      no cause for concern     we suspected this much        all along       it starts with a whimper          ends with a bang        you go on ahead         I’ll set my alarm         and wait for the blackout        and my moment of calm

vesuvius

 I aint so good       at hiding my feelings       I sparkle and crackle          there’s a fissure in my mantle         I got blood in my eyes       poison on my tongue         I’m ready to pounce      on the unwary enemies       of my fragile peace         I medicate       I meditate     but to no avail       I laugh     I cry      I rant and rave       I try to keep things sunny side up        but nearly always fail

saint nick

 he knows my name        has that much hold over me         my over friendly beggar         my demon in rags       but when the bottle’s passed       I never wipe  the neck     that’s a sign of disrespect      and so the black wine        passes from his lips to mine        and his eyes are night       and his smile is daylight         and he has my undivided   fascination     I’m his puppet        to lead to heaven        to hell        and other places        you can’t find on maps

 and downtown in the killing fields       he makes my ghosts to dance        that old man reeks of corruption       I found him sleeping in fetid leaves            in the woods      in the damp dark season        when decay rules        and everything dies but death     I met him in the pub one night        ladling on the charisma          buying everyone pints        yeah   I know him well     he’s my mentor         my guru     my homeboy          but we were never friends  

graft

 it’s all graft sure enough      our sweat buys us candy        but there’s little gravy handy       I was a toiler       couldn’t get myself square        but manna flows from heaven        and I know I’m due my share    

I tried to scrape an honest living       but didn’t have a prayer       some call it criminality        but I don’t really care       coz only a fool goes hungry         when there’s gravy stashed somewhere         

faded

 poor boy shone feeble        against a starless sky     before he flickered out          to give up the ghost and die      was there a moment       when he knew his time had come?       did he awaken in some faulty paradise        reserved to losers and bums?      or did he simply blink out       as he spiralled away       on his final moth man trajectory?          prayers were said for him        which fell on deaf ears        the lesser god  of hobos and junkies         was just too stoned to hear      his last gasp went unattended      there were no fond farewells       no intimate gestures         he drowned alone in a pool of vomit      there’s no dignity in that        his sleep was too swift and deep     to allow for human comfort       we held a day of weeping      but his name has long since faded from our lips         no one here remembers his face     and no one really cares