astrology

 bleeding out between the stars

it was written in my sky

that I was born of the night

to be bioelectrically crazy

and idle to the bone

but it’s not such a raw deal

how can I complain?

when midnight serpents shine

in gardens misty wet with rain   

and even the constellations

are pounding out my name

existential

 this place    burns me out     with wearisome  repetition    its suburban cliché     weighs heavy    on my doldrums          and I’m drowning  in an ocean of sundays     I’ve gone native    in the great nocturnal        I’m flying solo       from now on in   but I'll bail out before I’m found out        for I have deviated from the norm     so blanket me     with tar and feathers      lead me to the killing floor   I’ve had enough of the social system        my heart is heavy and my knees are sore

paint me blue

 I fled my perch        on a promise            dived head first     into your blues        your terrible ocean blues              you were snake oil and gold dust                        half pretence           half mystery             I fell for you  like the sucker         you took me for                        ‘call me sometime’             that’s what you said           but I lost your number                     along with my head                        you seemed  bona fide                  your credentials were good       but I wasn’t committed      just passing through           what was the catalyst            for my change of heart?        I don’t remember        was it something you said?      the lies that you told?               the tears that you shed?                        you painted me blue                      I painted you red                   I can’t reach you now            why would I want to?        your facts were all fictions     I’ve been once bitten                     and that left its mark

the ministry of filth

 if you look for dirt         you’re bound  to find it          like attracts like      that’s the law  of intent          did you run out of pockets?       have you lifted more than you can chew?        you better give me everything       before I wind up dead       the pigs strip searched my mind         prima facie evidence        suggested I was ripe          there’s something wrong with my brain           it’s a simple mind bender      from way back when          did you see them?              did you see my pornographic hands?             did you get my text?        do you finally understand?       this is the ministry of filth         and you are in command

mister natural

 old acquaintances              can make for strange bed fellows               more like accomplices than lovers             but this is no next time round                  I’m no blast from the past                        I’ve been authenticated                        as 100% organic                        the totally genuine article             issued in nineteen timbuktu                    

I’m not packing remedies             in my duffel bag                        you can’t count on satisfaction        coz I’m just a minor distraction              and strictly pay for view             you got my name and number                        if you ever catch the blues           tho I might not come running               the way you want me to