orphans

it’s been a long time now    but some things never change    you took the road with me     with expectations that would tear us apart     you knew how to live       I knew how to dance     I promised you much      but I think I lied   I don’t believe     and I will not serve       I’m not afraid of being alone        I’m not scared of making mistakes       I crawled on broken glass     to get where I am now       my mistakes are portals     to new discoveries     I found myself   all on my own     I drowned in the ocean     you placed between us      I bled for your lies when you found another       but I wished luck in your new adventure    god grant you some peace    on your journey home      

electrical therapy

I need a bigger brain     none of this shit makes sense      I want a long lie down     in the cool room    on virgin sheets       over by the window      where I can see the street       because something is going wrong somewhere      and I’m afraid it’s local      there’s more misery in this neighbourhood than can be quantified      we’re alive and that’s the problem     and it’s quite a problem      but it’s nobody’s fault      

the living have troubles     that span all dimensions      electrical therapy might see them sorted     a zap to the brainpan      could do some good     it’s said to work wonders      for all mental maladies     god knows it changed my motivations      they taught me to think straight     with little blasts of lightning    they lit the path      to some near nirvana       and saw me whole    but not quite holy     am I the bad guy now?      how does that work?

I cut a solitary figure in this situation      but I don’t need a rainy day woman     to come and make my bed      clean my clothes      or serve my daily bread       don’t get me wrong      I don’t want to be alone     I just need a friend      to talk to when I’m stoned      I’m loaded with electrical potential     some find that strange     they might think I’m mental      but I know who I am    and that’s pivotal to my way of thinking

 

mercy

I can’t complain     though I’ve seen better days     today was stillborn      dead on arrival     dismal as an infant’s funeral     bleak as a winter in hell     I don’t seem to mind    there’s no evil portioned to me    I haven’t witnessed before     I have always believed      that whatever comes my way      for good or ill      I must have earned it    so I will own it   quietly   en sotto voce      I don’t believe in drama     or the daily toil and trouble   I believe in something spiritual      manna spilled from heaven    where I trust I’m not forgotten     because I still hope for mercy      in the kingdom yet to come          

bed

 I will not take to my bed       no, I will not take to my bed       I’m sick and tired      and I need to sleep    but I will not take to my bed            the day is dark and sorrowful       and my heart has turned to lead          I could lie in for a day or two     but I will not take to my bed             the world has me by the throat      I wish that I was dead     I’m ready to jack it all in     but I will not take to my bed      

 

bittersweet

in the place where you are     rooted as you are    habitually static   do you feel incomplete?     is there hunger still in you?      have you come very far, in the course of a lifetime?      was the journey worthwhile, the way you remember?     could you do with a bit more emotional warfare?    are you finally done with me, now I’ve surrendered?

to tell you the truth     I saw it coming      felt trouble gnawing   deep in my entrails      maybe that feeling tainted my actions     and I drew trouble to me      with dread apprehension     battling shadows    like a child in the dark       was I sowing the seeds of intent?      did I walk a crooked path?       all prophesy is self fulfilling      it’s a law of nature     even I realise that

least said, soonest mended       I’ll reserve my judgements     for the early hours        to reflect in a vacuum     the role that I played in this latest debacle     I hold a fascination for the patterns of disgrace      and we were both disgraced in this episode     so I’ll bury you now      but I’ll mark the grave for later      I’m bound to return to the scene of the crime

we all have needs     some more than others    we do what we have to     in order to survive with egos intact     people get hurt     and get hurt in the hurting     some wounds heal       some wounds fester      some wounds are licked     because we like the flavour      there are bittersweet confections     that linger in the heart