adventures in spirituality

 

I made my own bible     proclaimed it like a trumpet     the world was deaf     and did not hear     but my words were impeccable      I tried to use their power        in the direction of good        because I am an instrument of peace        and a vassal of love       because love is the supreme science       love is the only law

this was no epiphany    it all came on real easy like      over the course of decades      it was less a voyage of discovery       more a process of discarding garbage      I know who I am now    and I won’t forget        the world won’t let me      I’m fatally flawed      and that’s my strength        it can’t be used against me

individuals are thin on the ground      most people are just copies      nothing of them is original     they are an amalgam of stories they have heard      because everyone has stories    playing inside their heads     we’re all just the stories we tell ourselves     most of them are fictions    we take pride in our fictions      our uniqueness     but when I found out who I really was     I was bitterly disappointed      because I’m not at all unique      I’m a total fucking cliché    

a manic depressive whore      with a taste for drink and drugs       I truly am my own worst enemy      I’m just a Jonas     and I seem to sow discord wherever I go      but I ain’t crying     when I survey my life     I see I’ve lived it as well as I could      but it doesn’t matter now     just how I have lived      I can no longer play the role assigned me     I simply ceased to give a shit     and that brought me peace of mind       but I had to make that peace through understanding       because everything is connected       everything is now

in her arms

 

mistakes are my life      I’ve made a few     oh well, must get on     get things done     stain the silence with my words      my best years have fled      perhaps there was a time    when I was happy      I must have been happy     in her arms        yes, I must have been happy     in her arms  

I’d better do something      while I still have the fire      maybe a fire     or embers still to fan       or will I brood in my stinking lair?     and feel her absence      and feel her near?      every man hefts a cross      until he eventually dies     or he disappears       I might find it funny     but I don’t do funny     not in this place    no, not in here 

I want to be art

 

what an idea      absurd  but powerful     it has real poetry    but oh lord there ain’t room for us both in this religion     you’d best count me a monkey man     coz I’m about  this world, not the next       my dharma is entirely human      that’s what interests me - being human

life has no meaning     but the meaning we give it        art is the true expression of humanity      I want to be art      I want to perfect my form of being        my being human       because it matters    because I believe in humanity     the laws of nature seem cruel        there’s no justice in the universe       the universe does not care     but we care, right?      even in a godless world   -   we still care  -  don’t we? 

*image 'The Three Shades'  Auguste Rodin

in shadows

 

lately, I’m not really there      I’m not really anywhere       sometimes I’m not myself      I mutate into something else      sometimes I’m formed in the shadows        exposed under sodium light      I can’t seem to shake the feeling      that it all could happen again      I’d be down on the killing floor       dragging my ball and chain      through hospital corridors      desperate to escape    finding no way home    

armchair revolutionary

 

fuck this for a game of soldiers     fifty years on the treadmill     just to make some other cunt filthy      no, I’m sick of their bourgeois heroes      I’m sick of their holy books    they want to stunt your imagination     with their prisons, churches and schools   

well, I’m opting out     I’ve simply had enough     I’m an armchair revolutionary now      hooked to the silver screen     I think I broke the world     I didn’t know what I doing     I was only killing time      when this notion came to me…      I need to escape this room       and smash my fucking TV

Curious

 

I just want to know       what the hell is going on?     they say the world will end today      it’s not before time      this world is a sick joke      but then, you reap what you sow      and we’ve sown a lot     I don’t suppose I really care      but I’m curious     I just want to know      is this all there is?     I just want to know

with our thoughts we make the world

 

there’s so much propaganda now    black propaganda and filth      you’ve got stomach a banquet of shit        every time you watch the news       we don’t need hatred    we don’t need rulers      the power they take from the people        will return to the people     coz nothing is permanent       not even our troubles      there is no meaning to any of this      there is only the desire for life    with our thoughts we make the world    the way is not in the sky     the way is in the mind

Kiss

 

I like your attitude     fuck the rules     you’ll never reach monkey heaven      but you’re not being fooled     by sugar coated rhetoric     you’re not paralyzed by wishful thinking      coz you’re an individual      and you do as you choose     

you have desires     that outstrip this world       perhaps you were meant     for somewhere else      some other world where you are free     you don’t talk to an empty sky      coz you already know the truth        heaven was in that first kiss     but hell was in the last

 

Your Mind Is A Weapon

 

the power dynamic

 

change will come    through the mouth of a gun     the truth is a bullet       the mind is a gun       and a gun is power       as money is power     and beauty is power      we like power     we can’t get enough        all relationships are based on power      and resistance to power       coz power ennobles       while the fear of losing power corrupts       it’s that terrible dynamic     that measures out the conflict      that constitutes our lives

inertia

 

paint a picture of this    emotionally squalid     got the fear on now     something chronic     but I have music inside me      so I’m not that far gone      not a damp eye in the house     must be the season of cynics    I’m too tired to make adjustments this late in the deal

lately, I’m riddled with doubt     and what if it’s bad?     but what if it’s good?   but what if it’s bad?     and what if they laugh?     so what if they do?    it’s the bloody psychogenesis     of crippling inertia      my head is black with trouble      and I’m weary of the conflict

sober

I quit for the sake of my sanity       but I soon found out      you have to quit every day        maybe I’ll quit quitting    no, don’t tempt me      don’t get me started      once I get started      I don’t know how to stop       I’m not a temperate man       I’m a greedy bastard      who cannot get enough

It’s not easy staying sober      but it’s so much harder staying drunk       staying drunk takes dedication        an appetite for destruction     the will  to live as a fucking pariah,  a leper and a bum       no, I no longer have the strength       to deal with so much fun