special delivery

I’m unloading another consignment  of hard luck stories and therapeutic chemicals       I require further instruction        on how to get my business fixed       I fear myself in these dark hours      suicidal ideation  is a singular ideology    can you sympathise?     tell me you can sympathise…    

rain drops pitter patter       on my naked skull       some call it torture        others call it rehabilitation     there’s a health service plan     to gather my stones       and give me a pounding      but I won’t be compliant with the violence that breeds conformity       

they say I’m bad      or at the very least mad     but it’s my life     I won’t let them shape it      I won’t let them squash me     with their power trips  and lies     the whole world is singing the same dismal hymnal     the melody’s familiar     but the words need revised     

just stay away from me        my hurt is contagious     I’ve been devoured by my sickness        they’re saying I’m crazy         but I’m just impoverished    and that’s too bad       but it’s no big deal     so don’t bring me down with your suburban mores    I’ve lived outside of convention for most of my life     

manic

hear this?   I spark to this tune      I love this tune     I love everything     do you feel that energy?     I feed off that energy      my friend told me she’d swallowed lightning      I know that feeling      I’m loaded with electro-ecstatic potential        everything    every-fucking-thing     speaks to me      every sight and sound     drips heavy with significance      all of it combines and coalesces into the shape of man reborn   mother nature’s son    this world is pure euphoriant      I’m operating at impossible altitudes    steering by cosmic intuition    I’m a silver arc of flight  in the stratospheric blue

but on the flip side    and there’s always a flip side    there are terrible days lurking in ambush    days of rabid desperation    where callous motivations tug at my loins    when violent energy pulses through my sleepless nights     and a carnival of monsters fester in my mind      there are thoughts I keep to myself     thoughts I dare share with no one else      they would only paint me red     but that’s the curse that keeps on giving    I am become a beast    my face has turned to stone    I died an unnatural death   many times ago    but there’s no peace for the wretched      no place for hope in hell    

crazy

this soul is at odds with the world     because the world is phony     and so am I  but at least I know      the world is still asleep     madness is the only freedom left me   madness can be intoxicating     and illuminating      I was touched by lightning  when I was young      and took on my shoulders    the madness of the world        reason had betrayed me    but I saw clearly      that all life is a dream      and we are all just dreamers     wrapped up in our dreams   

everybody is crazy       it takes a madman to know that     because wisdom is madness unchained     everything we do is crazy    conflict is crazy     and hatred is crazy    and love is crazy too     all passion leads to madness      its darkness smothers millions      with a blanket of anguish and despair     the most beautiful things are born of madmen    and the most terrible    they concentrated evil and put it into bombs     they drop them on people     in the name of love and peace     if that’s not fucking crazy     I don’t know just what is

 

satyrs and nymphs

the lingering scent     of cheap perfume     and spearmint gum      the bitter aftertaste     of latex and spermicidal fluid    the compensations of the flesh     all that folding and unfolding   pressing and heaving     on wretched sheets    

I remember the face     but not the name     we were eyeball to eyeball     but eyes sometimes lie     and tongues can deceive     I grant all my lovers     a sleepy benediction     we are all free of sin     in moments of passion     it’s a stratagem that’s seldom in error      no strings attached     and no comebacks please

I grant no repeat viewings     of my dirty treasure     I know where you’ve been    I’ve been there too       but you’ll want to know     they always do    so I’ll tell you some tales     for your delectation     depravity lurks in the purest of hearts     but libido is damned   by  jealous manoeuvres     you ought to unwind     and just let it come

the tentative half impressions     I weave from the bedclothes     promise gaudy revelations     that flee from the light     so I’ll crack on now     before the daybreak creeps in through your window    like an angry policeman     demanding confessions     and enforcing strange laws     that no-one believes in

 

hypersexual

 I got the hunger something chronic     I just can’t get enough to satiate my lust     I don’t care what floats your boat    I dig it    you can count me in    right here   right now       while our blood is hot     and the urge is on us      I’m as tactile as a shark     and as subtle as the bends    but I’ll gladly play any game of sentience and sensuality

I revel in that electricity    I’m alive with conductive potential   I’m a hostage to intimacy, my body requires it   I am driven by the flesh to seek the devil’s mercy    not that sex is wicked     I believe it is sacred     some say I’m a dirty dog      I think perhaps I am       dogs have no inhibitions      dogs know no sin

so let’s roll together       our ravenous limbs entwined     tracing the fleshy geometries      of our bodies    and our minds    I feel that I know you    and I can read your signs   you’re hungry just like me     and loaded with sexual energy     I’ll hold you tight     but love you looser    no marionettes      no strings attached      if we can ride the beast together    we can share that spiritual fusion       that’s ours but for a moment      before it gently fades away

 

killers

they say you can kill with kindness     but I don’t believe that’s true    no,   cruelty is a killer    indifference is a killer     and I’m a killer too     this world is a cruel place   its history is a catalogue of murder     they say life is precious     but people squash it     each and every day     there’s little love in people     they are killers by word and deed

birth is an act of violence      the powerful understand violence       they’re all killers too      I have stared in the face of cruelty      and seen the bloody truth      it’s either kill or be killed     in this infestation      because we’re all killers       it’s human nature    we were born to violence     and murder by degrees    I found the one I loved in this world    it was she who murdered me

 

 

 

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