troubled waters

 death ebbs and flows     with the tides      and seasons       my dreams are wont to do the same          with drowning boys        and bloated sailors       unnatural deaths     in troubled waters     to dream of death is to die a little       perhaps we all die as we dream        in some private nightmare        all on our own

 

isolation

I fashioned myself a tinfoil crown     proof against the inclemency of nature      when gods and sorcerers tamper with my head      I was trying to set things straight      christ knows I tried      with razor blades and sealing wax  to peel back    sixty years of insulation     the features     the faces     the names    stripped away    to reveal the emptiness of self      a million illusions consigned to memory

it’s half past dead in the morning       I’m pall bearer to my dreams        I feel it closing in    the certainty of loss      but loss does not define me       it simply reveals the true me      I count my wounds instead of sheep     every night is a little death     my isolation is a gift of the gods    a test of my endurance     isolation is the currency of  individuality       the sacrifice of my social appendage      in honour of a selfish heart

ripened

most of the time I’m ageless       but mirrors tell no lies      I’m too old now to plead innocence         and too young to know much at all    I have not grown wise     I’ve just become careful   I remember the follies of youth      the sap still rises in my veins     but I’m kinder now    and more patient    though I’m none the wiser    for all the books I’ve devoured       the lips I’ve kissed      and the secrets I’ve hidden behind my eyes    

I look upon the past as if it were a dream      and what a dream it was     that steadied me for the certainty of death    is there dust on my wings?      I have not forgotten how to fly       but fly to where?     surely not back into the comfort of old memories    but forward  where the days pass too swiftly to count        will I be surprised by my maker as I round the next corner?      or shall I simply fade away into the oceans of time?

I don’t screw with my neighbour      or take what isn’t mine     I know the edicts of heaven      and I keep an ear to the ground       I believe the world still talks to me      but as an infant     because I’m not a dead child    I’m a grown one    my mind still burns with delirious ambition      though I am mocked by the passing years     but this is not a lament for the dying     there are no tears in my eyes      for I have savoured life     and I’ll leave it without regret

 

power

 sex is power    your sex      your power     take it    shape it    break it      sex is power      as money is power      and violence is power      the object of power is power      and power corrupts     all the way      but any human power        can be defied    because beauty is power     kindness is power         love is power      and your words have power       so measure them carefully      we kill gods with the weight of our words      and anoint new ones to bind us into place    

art has power     become art     make yourself your canvas     resist the power that paints you docile       you’ve been educated       designed      controlled     and objectified      but you can break that power     there’s nothing you desire      that stands against nature    you are an individual      you are power    a force exercised in belief     thought     actions      and words        so speak yourself free      find the language that brings you power        modify your way of being       become a tree of knowledge      amidst competing  powers

commerce

 your jailors send their most convivial regards

they offer you 10% off your next purchase

and to ensure your complete cooperation

remind you that they hold familial hostages

the wheels of commerce turn more smoothly

when a little coercion is applied

besides, your credit rating could be effected

should you fail to comply

it’s a game of cat and mouse

and make no mistake – you are the mouse

so go back to the treadmill - you know the score

you’ll work hard for your living

until you can labour no more…

 

bender

there are dark clouds     brewing in my teacup       and I’m ready for my bug juice      god’s own brand    liquid fire    destroyer of men     I’ll drag the low end later       but right now I’m thirsty     and it’s just my style       to lose my composure       go out on the razzle    and drink myself sober        I’ll get my jollies       in a drunken stupor       and who knows    I might even get my leg over        so c’mon let’s spill some liquor      we’ll have ourselves    a wicked old session      raise your glass      and loosen your tongue      coz I feel a bender coming on

bubbles

 do you read me?       do you feast your eyes on my sparkling inanities?   are you ready?     could you turn on at my behest?     we’re on a journey you and I    it won’t take long         just lend me your imagination      paint a picture of this      I am encased in a lithium bubble       perfectly serene     and quite tame       but the wild things beat on the membrane      I hear them call my name       my head is with the bubble       but my heart is outside with them       and where are you?     are you out there with the wild things?       or are you trapped in a bubble like mine?

rekindled

I toil both day and night      to mend my broken promises      and sort out a world    that I care to live in     I’m just trying to survive     the best I know how        but sometimes I break down      when reason deserts me        and fear bangs my drum         coz I know where dreams go to die       and where their bones  are buried        I tell you there are burdens I bear        that no one else can imagine     but there’s no end to suffering       when your world falls apart

don’t dig me up      I can manage    just let me be     I’m dead to your eyes     dead to the world     hope springs eternal     in the mouths of fools     but there’s no misery in this world       that lacks an author      pious would be friends    tried to murder my imagination     their wicked tongues spinning delicious lies      but I am immune such confections     coz I’m a human being     with the power of love in me       and I take comfort from that    

 

 

auld nick

 way back in the bygone         when  I first came of age      auld nick himself appeared to me    and this is what he said;

“son, you’re a natural man,  but you ain’t the only one      show the world its shame     do it for humanity     do it for your mum      just don’t use my name      they’ve been bitchin’ about the world they made     and  they think that I’m to blame     for their mistakes”

people say I’m bad      or at the very least mad    I don’t care what people say      I’m gonna tell them anyway     we are all of us devils       we made this world a hell       this life is meant for loving     and the auld nick might make us dance     but he cannot make us love…

they say pride is the first sin      but pride is all some folk have      and if this is truly hell     surely auld nick knows the way out     come to him at your leisure     or simply wait for him here       for god alone loves us       but auld nick attends       as if he were a friend

I asked nick what time it was      he answered “how much do you want?”   he promised  he’d give me all there is         if I could look him in the eye      and tell him that I’m innocent     I’ve never seen my father’s face      but I suffer auld nick’s every day       if I could only feel my fathers grace      surely auld nick would go away

 

 

the meat man cometh

are you made from love?    can you scent that scene?      do you hear that music?     that’s fucking music     pure rock n roll     the most natural idiom     in which to shed your inhibitions      the meat man cometh       low and slow     talking in tongues       winding sexual vibrations     with his seductive rhythms       and mystic copulations    

he only comes around       to get your business fixed      he’s the trouble in your loins     the gyration in your hips        best get some while you can     it just might be the last      of the only magic left       so don’t you button down     get your knickers off      coz when the meat man comes visiting        he has little time for coquetry       but time enough for love

lost

 the crudely crafted shank    of childish design     still cleaves your heart    and lacerates your mind         there is no shape to thought or moment      there’s no pleasurable release      or pyrrhic prize to salve your wounds     yours are the days of infected sharps       and twisted spoons     you know that you’ll succumb       despite your better self     and later assert that you went home      before the band lit up your favourite tune       temptation reeks of self deception        one more solid hit     and you’ll find the door      you lost yourself to dime bag reasoning      and sold your love for a winning smile       life goes on     you will survive     truth be told     you don’t really care     and I don’t seem to mind

disingenuous

liar liar  your tongue’s on fire       your criminal expulsion    didn’t sweeten the medicine     it  merely printed a shadow on my membrane      but I’ve gone all forensic      with finely tuned instruments      I know exactly where the wind is blowing      your eyes led me to certain conclusions       they’re a mirror to the truth     so I know that you were lying    are your words narcotic?       do they ease a troubled mind?       do you take me for a chump?    or is that mendacious mouth of yours just something to hide behind?

eternal night

the terrible sun      remorseless and bright     burns our parchment skin     and drinks our rivers dry      gonna be another scorcher      gimme a slug of your bug juice     help me close my mind    I eschew the day      renounce the light      to seek the company of strangers      in the dead of night  

I was not born to darkness     I just gravitated towards it    a moth to an invisible flame    night cradles me in its arms     just as it cloaks the trembling stars      night will not surrender me    and I am glad of it     I love the silent hours      and savour my isolation         it’s as close as I get to being free

these are the days of mass migration       proxy wars     and famine     I’m a hidden being        obscured by darkness      but we must shine like those fading stars      for whatever time is left us      before the total eclipse of all humankind          and the tender blessings of eternal night

monstrous

it’s a long standing paradox     that he who resists monsters     becomes a monster too     it’s monstrous to be innocent      in this monstrous world       but no one is ever innocent     as far as god’s concerned      this is a frankenstein constituency      where monsters and angels        sing from the same song sheet     was that one of god’s mistakes?       or maybe he was one of ours      is heaven full of monsters?      what if god himself is a monster?       and everything we think we know       is one great monstrous lie?