vox dei

 

I was certified ordinary at the lollipop factory    but an undetected defect seized me by the knackers     and I seen the god of babylon riding on his chariot    through the cooperative store    and I seen he had sharks eyes    cold and dead and joyless   and he was just a boy   a youth of eternal summer   but he made my blood run cold    I’d give that cunt a wide berth     but he’s the master of this world

sweet pilgrim you’d better beware    so many people around you are phonies    and you could be a phony too    and never know   there was a time you knelt in prayer   and the words were a comfort to you     now you suspect you were only talking to yourself    and that the god you built from old stories and wishful thought   has a veracious appetite     and he gorges on his makers day and night    that god is the fountain of all lies    and a parchment of your imagination

stop

one drop     two     three drops     four     feed me to the scum suckers     pour flash in my pan     rifle me     stifle me     blow me from the rafters     fuck me     in the brain stem     but     deliver me from arseholes     enthralled in semantic developments     I have no need for enemies     when my friends     will bite my tongue     that union of close affiliates     and worn out excuses     lit my funeral pyre     with a bluebell match     and a kerosene drum

always     mostly     arseholes flee     from any thought     that might rattle their cages      but my pen is    mightier than my sword      and made these pages mine     before they had names     when these words were thoughts    and vague recollections      my head was mince      I’d had a proper seeing to      later I crept home     half arsed incognito      having formed the opinion    that all is either lost     or found      while groping in the dark

once satiated     my dying manhood     glistened in the lamplight    what’s that the symbol of?    I howled with laughter    I’m a dirty old mongrel      why don’t I stop       cock stop     stop cock    why don’t you     just stop     stop     stop it     fasten the impulse     reject the necessary      stop     stop where sign says red     red means stop          stop means stop

soledad

I have an itch   I need to scratch    but it’s beyond my reach    it’s on the inside   where the piranha shoal    and old wounds fester    in the inky black    it’s dark outside    but it’s darker in     the night claws it’s way     into my room    with tedious certainty    my lights are lit   and curtains drawn    my barricades   against it all

the weight of gloom    e x p a n d i n g    invades my skin    filling me with darkness   and  I’m small     and all alone    so very far from home     here at the edge of the world    there is silence  in my bones    this world provides no nourishment    for those who feel alone

is all life lonely   and lacking purpose   despite the masks that we all wear?   that prospect is appalling   loneliness is the most terrible poverty   sex has always been my consolation    when I can’t have love      but that’s no use now    because I’m all alone   and now there is a great big hole   where she used to be     and I have fallen in    and can’t climb out   

can you feel too much?   or feel in the wrong way?   is every man an island on a cruel and lonely sea?    loneliness is so human   and it scares the shit out of me   the way it burrows into you    leaves a mark on your soul   we can never outgrow loneliness   and no-one can fill that space   the best you can do    is do for yourself   fuck everybody else

 

 

babylon must burn

I’ve slaved my last for the combine    all babylon is sick of that murder machine those minions of the combine are always plotting   the combine commits crimes every day   like it’s nothing of consequence   because there are different rules for them   dog eat dog is their credo     money is their god    and greed is their religion

it’s the system that grinds us down    that system is called babylon  and babylon is owned by the minions of the combine     they steal our money for corporate gain    corruption drives babylon     it doesn’t serve the people     it only serves the minions of the combine

babylon is everywhere   and everywhere is babylon   babylon is the land of deceit     home of the slave     I plan to put on an iron vest     and lay babylon to waste   only blood is accepted and violence respected    by the minions of the combine   we will never chant down babylon    because babylon is ignorant   no  babylon won’t listen     so babylon must burn

hear the Creature EP

vertigo

I dialled your number    again and again   I felt empty   you didn’t answer   again and again    the sensitive can go crazy      with little provocation      I was alone    and drowning in my own shadow    and you were not at home   you were never at home    there is madness in love    and reason in madness    and love is often the reason for madness

we are all crazy  and the crazy in us  can motivate us in inexplicable ways    madness is my saving grace  madness is my adaptation   my antidote   to people like you    I wanted so badly    to be close to you    not just to fuck    but to be with you    perhaps I was lacking     but maybe it was you    my love didn’t just die  it submerged into secret depths   where it hid   curled up in foetal disgrace   over time it curdled   into something that left a bad taste

I took some comfort from my madness    the familiarity of my dingy surroundings     the privilege of the lonely    the freedom to be alone   I sought no understanding    I would not be enslaved by understanding    we each possess a unique world    distinct from all others    reality is an experience   and its veracity cannot be established   by any doctor   my world was bona fide    I was a grave instrument with a bloody handle   a rotten burlap sack full of killing stones     and I was high    I was so very high    that I nearly died of vertigo