soul messenger

 it’s the drip drip drip        the relentless pressure        that destroys a man       the tomorrow       and tomorrow       and tomorrow       and it’s the pestilence of night       that eats at his soul       if he has a soul       do we really have souls?         I don’t know        I hope so        coz I would be a soul messenger         a fragment of the sun

may goodness open my eyes        but not too much just yet        I want to leave some room         for future revelations     I’m a thousand years sober         every day provides the same blue vista       that wipes away my tears       and paints my happy head          with an abiding love        I’m sick of dark reflections      I want to bathe in light  

terminal anxiety

jesus weeps      time runs out      entropy triumphs at the gallop       mankind is beaten into third place      by the insects and the dinosaurs       this is not what we expected        as we cruised the highways        of our imaginations         we were promised paradise        and life everlasting       but we got the doomsday clock and terminal anxiety         someone better switch off the big light        this party is over and it’s time to go home      to whatever shit hole we came from

dog town

 on my way     homeward bound       where a cold wind blows over poisoned ground      where I was born      and where I died       coz I die a little      each day I spend     in this dog town     without a friend         too many crimes     left unsolved      too many conflicts unresolved        I am alien      in this place        I’m an abandoned building        falling down       an empty shell         in this dog town

the blackened sky       won’t drag me down         coz  I am at odds      with this dog town     we love and hate our neighbours         until the bastards bleed     and trust the lord our saviour       in our hour of need         I’m the last of my kind in this dog town          they might bury me here       but they’ll never bring me down

obey

 I’m just the one bad apple       in a whole barrel of laughs        it’s easy to point the finger         but baby I’m not the last       I’m just a natural man       struggling with worldly pain         but everything that ever was       was exactly where it was meant to be        so when they feed me to the beast       I shall go uncomplaining        I was only obeying orders         and I got no strings attached        I’ve done some wicked shit       and I got nightmares to show for it    

I have slain my enemies      with joy burning in my heart       I have secured a seat for me          in some lesser heaven        a stone’s throw from here          cheek by jowl and worlds apart      beatific in my gluttonous hog trough         where nobody’s perfect             but at least I’m trying       I’m just a desiccated leaf     on the blackened bough of the gallows tree           I go where the wind blows      following the dictates of my primitive heart      and if I cannot obey love        I shall obey my fear         I will hate myself for it        but I shall obey my fear

across the sky

 once she wrote my name across the sky       now she hates my guts     you have to wonder why       I didn’t ask         she didn’t say      we had different games to play      coz we had our moments         but they soon faded away     I found sanctuary in her arms       and she succumbed to my dubious charms         now I’m the man she loves to hate       my presence she won’t tolerate       she made me promises        she’d later deny       but once she wrote my name across the sky

letter to heaven

 I sent a letter to heaven     I hope it reached you there       it came straight from the heart        you are ever in my prayers       you know I miss you always              I feel you everywhere          I know that we will meet again         I can’t say when   or where      but if heaven is in my heart     I know we’ll never part       you will always be my friend          until the very end           

jesus says

 I’m alright with jesus       and jesus is alright with me         and everything is perfect       the way it’s meant to be     but I’m not the ringmaster     of this flea circus       I’m just a clown       pretending to be happy         pretending to be free       choking on coffin nails      and playing make believe     

I saw him once      or was it a dream?       it had to be a dream       but it seemed so real to me        he said the only difference        between heaven and hell       lies in the language of love       and the rhetoric of hate       there’d be peace in my heart       and I would be free     if I spoke as a child        the way he speaks to me         

fiction

life is not about finding yourself       it’s about creating yourself        coz we are fiction      all of us      just actors on a stage     yes, when you deep it you realise      we are all entertainers       penny ante actors        in some dismal third rate play        some of us are villains        some are victims         some are star struck lovers       others tragic heroes       it takes actors of all casts         to tell the human story        in this rainbow of chaos      we are never short of fictions    fictions are  abundant and  beautiful    but I wonder if we gave up the  freedom is to be what we really are    have we traded in our reality for a role      did we give up our ability to feel in exchange, for a mask

 

holding up the sky

we were not born to toil      to eat     to sleep   and die          there must be more to life       than consumer goods       and cut price holiday flights      in the old days       there were old ways     and we held the spirit     close to our ancient hearts        and the world was young       and we were strong     and our prayers held up the sky

but now  the world is tired      and she groans  in protest    from her arthritic bones      and we make promises      that test our reason      and find us wanting      and leave us cold and lonely      our dreams have become dangerous things       but we never wonder why

and in our days        we know our numbers       and they add up      to big fat zeroes      and we all know that it doesn’t matter       because nothing really matters        from the bottom of the ocean      to the high on himalayans      there is such thing as truth      and our arms are aching now      from holding up the sky

back in the day

 I know they talk about me      and I know just what they say       I did something wrong      but that was back in the day        I was too young to know any better      way back in the day      they that I’m the devil       I certainly know his ways      but I was still a child       way back in the day.

I was beautiful       I was wild      and I liked to have my way      but the sins that I committed         well, that was back in the day       I had willing accomplices      who later called themselves victims     it seems I was svengali    way back in the day

I broke the seventh commandment      what more can I say?         I was a backdoor man       way back in the day        some kinds of love are evil       that’s what people say        they made of me a monster       from somewhere back in the day

hold me

buddha is watching         buddha is waiting        what’s in you      is around you       all that’s around you       is within you         without or within         it’s all the same to him         you could suffer little children        the way they suffer you        you could build a fire         of your possessions        free your mind of all distractions      

but in the meantime       you could hold me          just hold me        I lost my shadow       in the darkness       it’s dark without        it’s dark within         my blood runs cold         my shadow runs thin      and you could hold me      until the night passes         you could hold me        we could banish sin       you could simply hold me       until the day begins

bipolar wing nut

 I can make it        I know that I can make it        I’ve been harvesting troubles        since the world began         my blood spoils       with murderous intentions       but I’m yet resolved       to do myself no harm       still,  I have a mania of dangerous dimensions         and I must bite my tongue           learn to contain my words        my words are poison       my words are violent       my words are strange      and I must bite my tongue           these are my days        of blasphemy and thunder         and blasphemy and thunder        have been my mother tongue          very well       and     very well       I’ll get myself a poultice         to suffer up the puss       that so infects my purpose         I’ll find myself an angle        to cure my crooked thinking       I’ll mix myself a potion       to liberate my mind