euphoria

the most beautiful things in this world     cannot be apprehended by the senses      they must be felt by the heart     like the feelings that pass between lovers in moments of passion     I don’t know if it’s even possible to convey those feelings in words    manic sex is a form of communication fully tactile and totally emotional     to capture a picture of that, you’d have to paint with colours no-one has ever seen

feelings come and go, like clouds scudding by    they are never really constant     they tend to change through time     my feelings are hyper energized     but prone to painful inversion      the rush of pure exhilaration      gives way to dreaded apprehension      I wake up into nightmares in the valleys of despair    to lick my wounds and pray once more for the state of euphoria     and the joy that awaits me there

 

secrets

I gave away my secrets     they were weaponized by erstwhile lovers       who came in like avenging angels       to get my business fixed     but I untangled their machinery     and left them dangling by a thread      there’s an edge to certain words        sharper than a guillotine      but there isn’t a word for everything     so how many wordless secrets were lurking my bed      speaking directly to the heart      and bypassing the head?

medication

 twice in every day      I schedule my medication      I don’t get the good stuff       they save that for terminal cases      but I die a little every day       that shit’s for pain      so why not give it      to people in pain?     they say it’s all mental     that my kind of pain don’t qualify     wrong address  again   best test my reflexes     if I have any  left    I function out of habit     but I can hardly roll a joint    

perhaps it is all in my head      from an injury long ago     somebody damaged my psyche     and it never knitted together      I could fill the holes      with the help of god’s own medicine       the universal panacea       if they gave a prescription      of the proper medication     I could harvest pearls        from the bottom of the ocean       or scud across its surface      like a lonely albatross

TKO

I’m taking a dive     but don’t count me out      I’m the fringe contender     and a bit of a bleeder     so it’s only natural to take a beating      whenever it’s dished me     whatever the day     or untimely season     a change in the weather       brings unwelcome challengers     from within and without      to pin me on the ropes    and then sucker punch me     it’s a losing battle     the odds are against me right from the bell     but I’ll stage a rematch      on the bloody apron     the most valiant of bums    in another rigged bout 

revolver

don’t start me…     once I get going…       god will be turning in his grave      after the latest abomination        someone murdered innocence     he still has the weapon      and he could care less about forensics        coz no one really cares    for innocent victims     but it’ll make great TV      it’ll fill the news papers      and conspiracy theorists will wet their pants

my neighbours number their burdens    and pray for forbearance       and that’s alright      I too have burdens I can count       but I’m a thief     I don’t require no forbearance    I’ll take my chances with the corporeal law      I can fend for myself     I often had to     but this weapon still holds five bullets      it must serve some other purpose         or it’s no gun at all…

 

 

the cosmology of finks

other peoples misery is delicious     they say it’s good to share…   that a trouble shared – is a trouble doubled      a secret shared is a loaded gun    confidentiality is a power network     your mother is an informant      and your friends policemen      your life is another’s gossip      because this is just a soap opera      and you can trust others – only to play their parts       those who  betray you  may have noble intentions     but it’s your dirty laundry hung out for inspection

 

 

my death songs

 man     I’m strung out like never before        this attritional warfare has shriveled my stones      and turned my blood to rust    I’m barely fit for the knacker's cart     I’m stretched beyond endurance     and wearing pretty thin      I’m in a place of ghosts and shadows    I can’t survive here long     whatever the prognosis     I don’t think I’m going home

my death songs bud ruby on my lips   I’m locked in the organ factory        and marked for vivisection        but I have dirty blood       they have to sort me out    before they cut me open to rummage about    some wired quack      gave me poisonous pills       she said they’d do me good     she said they’d get my business fixed     but here I am in limbo     a million miles from home   I’m belting out my death songs       I don’t know for how long

 

gravity

 this is the order of my days       cyclical      repetitious   and fearsome     I’m as high as a kite      stratospherically      fantastically    orbital       I’m oozing light and heat     and I’m pyrotechnically     blindingly      illuminated

this is the way my spirit  inevitably dives    slumping      toppling       and plummeting          I’m crashing fast      spectacularly     catastrophically      and terminally      I’m in the thrall of some terrible force     frightening      dreadful      and sudden   

this is the power of inexorable gravity     cruel      unforgiving       and devastating  in consequence     vertigo spirals me down    I’m falling    tumbling      and spinning     I am a stone cast on turbulent water    plunging          sinking         and disappearing   

eternal sunshine

when I stepped into the light      I saw the organs of my existence    laid out in a daisy chain    and everything worked beautifully     the way it ought to be      the way it always is

everything I ever needed    was under my skin     I am the seed       of an ever-unfolding flower      happiness blossoms perpetually     to the ebb and flow of love    enlightenment is a cup of pure joy     to be consumed in the hour of eternal sunshine 

copasetic

 man, I landed in the groove      the new sun showered me with gifts       and I’m all lit up like christmas day      see me shine?      I’m in the moment      and the moment is eternal    my thought, speech and actions are harmonised        and I am perfected in love, grace and gratitude       it’s an inside job    I know     but I pulled it off      life loves me again     and so do I     we’re happy together now      me, myself and I

autonomous

 my past was wicked and my future was cursed     I was a prisoner in a jail of my own devising      but I crawled out from under     I put up one hell of a fight     but I’m an individual     I have few attachments     that’s how it is to be free       you have to sacrifice your jailors      you have to crash out of their gaze    and you have to keep moving or they catch you   because everyone is a jailor       in this fucked up world

there is no such thing as limited freedom      it’s all or nothing     don’t be fooled by semantics     they are laying traps again      but they won’t  catch me    I’m too savvy to take the bait      I love being alive    I love feeling free    I’m no animal to be caged       don’t they understand?     if one of us is caged    then none of us are free

the price of liberty is steep       you have to abandon society     and kiss the past goodbye      you have to become aware of your own heart       for what is freedom without wisdom      without love?       freedom can be the greatest of all vices without temperance      it’s not just the power to do as we like        it’s the opportunity to do as we should    

so leave me alone       I won’t tread on your toes      there’s no need to bind me     because no matter what you do       I will not conform       I cannot conform     conformity is a prison       the enemy of growth       coercion captures men      but freedom inspires them      the fight for freedom is a personal and solitary battle    we conquer the fears of today     to fight again tomorrow     it’s even harder to preserve our liberty      than it is to win it

 

 

 

 

heavy hitters

I don’t slave in the fields for a steady income     and no-one will set me straight on tick    that’s cool     I know the score     no credit for monkeys     I bought this ball and chain    might as well wear them    that’s the proposition      I’m all alone in my war on drugs    I  made for me a pair of wings       I want to fly away       no more human derelicts    lurking in the shadows     hating society     loathing themselves     I want paradise in my cup     they have a gun to my head      but    I don’t seem to care      I have bona fide connections in a completely different sphere