In Silence

I tried to buy my way out

negotiate a new deal

I’d been bouncing cheques again

but it was either that, or steal

I’d had enough

I was all tapped out

I had nothing left to give

of that there was no doubt

all the ghosts of yesteryear

were gnawing on my bones

I attempted new directions

but they had me by the stones

I had to cull the innocents

they were getting on my tits

a killer needs no reminding

of the crimes that he commits

I’d been heavy laden

and running low on luck

they told me it was karma

but no I longer gave a fuck

all my gods where slain

by my legions of petty tyrants

but I had to take the blame

and bear that shame in silence

Freedom

I shall not be shamed

by another’s words or deeds

shame is the quirt of fear

and fear is the prime motivator

for the reinforcement of ego

and the production

of personal mythology

but I’m consigned now

to the power that rules my fate

there’s nothing left to fear

in the face of certain death

I am centred now

on myself alone

and on the accumulation

of personal power

I stand as singular

and without form

I don’t require validation

I have no points to defend

I sacrificed my pretentions

and freed up the space

between myself and the world

I’m gathering momentum

as I shed my skin

I’m polishing my connection

to the man within

I’m well practiced now

in all my directions

I know where I am

and never lose my way

I always point in the same direction

towards the abstract goal

that some call freedom

Sharks

I moved in short term

with the rhythm section

of the collection crew

I got no musical vibrations

but with a beak full of sugar

I’m a fucking metronome

relentless and industrious

regular as clockwork

and thorough in my executions

finesse was not required

they only wanted a bagman

to carry their bad news

I chow down good

I always clear my plate

‘cause you never know

just when you’ll be without

working with the collection crew

you see all kinds of mistakes

and how they can accumulate

but I’m all dummied up

and completely confidential

when it comes to individual cases

you slot your secrets in your pants

they might pay dividends one day

we are the shape of the real

your terminal destination

and we lay the hard edge

to your unspecified nightmares

those inchoate fears of yours

originate in our kitchen

where we cook up solutions

to your specific problems

and collect the promissory notes

you issued in your ignorance

we are the remedy to ambition

the murderers of dreams

.

Do Not Resuscitate

there’s no will left in me

I’m so fucking tired

I took to my grave

these birthing pains

sometimes prove fatal

poor boys and sinners

can fall by the way

I’m crashing out

of corporeal duties

just bury me shallow

in case I grow restless

and hang up a sign

saying do not resuscitate

before judgement day

Windswept

I wrote words for you

they were stolen by the wind

and never reached your ears

but I wonder if you felt them

and if I’m feeling yours