money

 money has power     if you choose to believe it     some people just don’t care about money       other’s care about nothing else    here I am sitting in my bed     reading my I.O.U’s   I don’t care much for anything    because beauty is a whore     and money is her pimp    I have no taste for poverty     nor for honest labour    that’s why I’m a thief   I will not serve a master     but I will not want for money    I’ll take what I’ve got coming     I’ll steal before I earn    

cyclops

there are no flies on you     coz you’re the dog’s bollocks      and the sun shines out of your arse     you’re quicker than the devil     but more grounded in reality      you’re so single minded in your every conceit       and brother you can talk      you can talk yourself blue     chew my fucking ears off   go on, demonstrate the folly of your words      you hate this      you hate that       the world pisses you off...      truth is a matter of ingenuity    we are what we pretend to be      and you pretend to be wise      but your wisdom is a ticket to hell     coz shit gets under your skin     there’s no defect in your vision     you’re just selectively blind    you’re so busy with the wrong      you refuse to see the light     that the good outweighs the bad      to anyone with sight

 

 

torquemada

questions circle like vultures    but I’m not running away    I’m running towards   I changed my face to fit the frame      you could say I’m in disguise     I don’t forget the things I’ve done      man, I nearly choked on them     but I got over it    and now I’m on the gravy train     but I had to give it up     you know what I mean?      I had to give it up        pack it in and snuff it out     no embers left to fan      but there are questions    always questions      I’m not afraid of questions    I have one for you    what the fuck do you want?     you don’t have to answer    you might not know the answer     some questions can’t be answered     and some answers can’t be questioned      is love always the answer?      or is love sometimes the question?     I suppose it makes no difference to me      because I keep my own secrets     and bear my stripes without complaint

 

terraplaning

a smattering of raindrops pepper my window panes     their ragged trails are bleached by another thorazine moon    a thousand dark misgivings     are nesting in my brain      a swarm of ravenous locusts    are wheeling on the wing      there’s space beneath  the blankets   I’m slipping through again      strange fruit and poplar trees   I’ve seen this place before     I’m talking to some woman     I sense that she’s a friend     I seem to know her face     but can’t recall her name     the local boys are rowdy    on tonic wine and beer    I’m peeling away my skin     it’s a reptile house in here    I can hardly breathe    I’m running out of air     someone is calling my name    but I don’t seem to care   I’m all fucked up again    a little worse for wear     is what’s inside leaking out?     is what’s outside crashing in?   I tore these words from the paper    and pasted them into the void    it’s a menagerie of countersigns    a procession of disjointed images      that could signify anything    but most likely don’t     it’s the dark side of morning     and no one gives a shit      most of us are sleeping      perhaps I’m sleeping too    maybe this is a dream     I hope it is a dream   cause if this is just a dream    I could make an escape    I could dial myself a ride    and terraplane away 

denial

 some lies are more useful than facts       some facts are too hard to bear     I’ve often indulged to excess    in sex and drugs and wine    and lost myself in the labyrinth   of my fickle polluted heart       of all the liars in the world     the human heart reigns supreme     but then it’s easier to disseminate falsehoods      than it is to tell the truth     things are made to happen     somebody makes them happen     so never do anything     you can’t later deny    surely facts mould fictions   and the truth is often eclipsed    by something more convenient    these are not just words     this is my religion    I am my own god      here to drink and fuck and fight   and my truth is beautiful     even if it’s hard to swallow    because the truth feels like an insult   to people in denial     but let me tell you this     there is one great truth    there is one great lie     they amount to the same     they can both be denied