Pinocchio

“no-one fucks like that”  she said  “unless they mean it”

I had given it full expression    and I had meant it    in the heat of the moment    with the fire in my loins    but   hers was not my circus    I treasured my freedom    and would not relinquish it   just because we were good in bed

“what’s wrong?”    “don’t you fancy me?”   her eyes searched mine      I averted  shamefaced   my silence was evidence    of my guilt    I didn’t know what to say    the feeling just wasn’t there    well   that was my story   and I stuck to it

that was the story I told    and told over again    until I forgot it was a lie    it was a story of innocence    it was far from the truth    I have two glass eyes     and a silver tongue     I can lie with the best    and often do   but most of the time   I only deceive myself     with my selfish acts of betrayal

Dragons

for my head
Shug said
and gave me a wrap
for the pain
all fingers and foil
trembling slightly
I inhaled
the acrid smoke
burning lettuce
slipped easy
into grateful lungs
I was waiting
waiting on a wave
a cool dark one
to sweep me up
and lay me to rest
I smoked myself sick
but even that felt good
in fact everything
felt good
too good
and I saw that
a man could lose himself
chasing dragons
.

Only Dreaming

years later
long after
you died
I dreamed
of you

in the dream
you were sixteen
and altogether
beautiful

death had yet
to touch
your brow

your life force
shone out
strong
and proud

and I woke up
wondering
if I was only dreaming
or was it really you
.

No Angels

there are no angels
there are no demons
there are only survivors
the world stones its saints
as it buries the innocent
and in the end no-one
remembers their names
.

Forbidden

Take a picture of this
We were holding hands
We had heavy heads
And happy hearts
We were stoned
In the regular variety
We rushed to the shore
The sea lapped at our feet
The wind tugged at our hair
We were immortal then
We were cleansed
Spotless as in infancy
The world had yet to find us
To bind us to convention
And condemn us - all three
For the  love we shared
.

Sixteen

there were days
when we lived
as if we’d never die
days we were
perfected
among the race
because our love
was the first love
to ever reach
those heights
but we were sixteen
and did not know
that time was a thief
who’d steal our love
and leave us naught
but our memories
.

Missionaries

.

It was a glorious summer’s day and I was pleasantly stoned. Two young missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints knocked on my door. I must have been pretty high because instead of palming them off with the usual spiel about my being an atheist I let them in. It was a hot day so I served them some cold lemonade.

We discussed the bible and Jesus Christ. They told me about Joseph Smith and Brigham Young and they gave me a Book of Mormon, so I thanked them. We even prayed together – though I did so with a certain amount of mirth. I talked and talked about Christ, Buddha and Krishna – mostly I just talked until they could not wait to leave. They informed me that they must be making tracks. I looked doubtful and said:

“Are you sure?”

“Yes” they replied

“That acid I gave you ought to be kicking in about now.” I informed them.

The blood drained from their faces as they reeled from the shock. They unravelled from smug satisfaction into deep consternation before my eyes. I laughed and shook my head.

“I’m only kidding. I wouldn’t do that to you guys.”

They seemed unconvinced and left rapidly - still in a state of shock. To this day No Mormon missionaries have knocked on my door since. I see them coming down the street going door to door, but they skip past mine. I think I’m on that database of theirs as doomed – an instrument of Satan.

.

Little White Lies

once I had two lovers
I know what you’re thinking
you’re either thinking lucky dog
or filthy rat
I think the latter is more accurate
I was definitely some form of rodent
nervous and fearful of discovery
scurrying through the dark
from house to house
and back again
.
both girls new about the other
but it was still an emotional minefield
so I used to lie to them
little white lies to smooth the way
little white lies to spare their feelings
I’d make up stories about my day
never mentioning one to the other
I’d tell stories about where I’d been
and what I’d done there
.
I had deceit down to a fine art
it got easier to lie as time went by
until it was second nature to me
that’s the thing about lies
they breed like rabbits
one lie begat another
until I was swimming in an ocean
of those little white lies
.
when I took all those lies
those little white lies
and put them all together
they made up one big black lie
my whole life had become a lie
it was hard to keep up with them
and they were discovered
one by one
in the end I lost both girls
because I was such a liar
and liars seldom prosper
.

Bobby

Bobby and Susan were best buddies
It was purely platonic, so they said
In fact they were so close
That when I asked Susan home
Bobby came as well
I could tell he was crazy for her
His eyes never left her
As we sat drinking coffee
In my living room


I thought I had struck out
Things being the way they were
With Bobby there and all that
I stood up and stretched
Said it was time for my bed
Susan stood up and took my hand
As we both left the room
I clocked Bobby’s dial
There was a look on his face
I’ll never forget
.

Rose Of Jericho

I pushed her buttons
And she opened up like a flower
What’s that the image of?
An unfolding fleshy flower
The sacred rose of Jericho
Tattooed to my ribs
The five wounds of Christ
The seven veils of wisdom
The smiling secret cyphers
Signalled between a lover’s lips
Behind closed doors
Between the sheets
Beneath the heaving flesh
Sliding – rolling on the mattress
Pressed against her bosom
Jammed between her thighs
Inside her velvet prison
My walls come tumbling down
But just in the moment
.

Wake

Take him and lay him out on the tall trestles
Put him in the shop window
For passing trade to see
Maybe some use can yet be made of him
I won’t dirty my hands with the details
Some words cannot be retracted
I’ll just say that he was here and now is gone
On twenty one occasions I asked for his forgiveness
He just shrugged his shoulders and slouched away
“No”, was all he said
Come on girl – no use moping after him
His journey is over now
But ours is just begun.
.

Blackened

When did we learn how to hate?
Was it incremental
Like the constant drip, drip, drip
Of a leaking faucet
Delivering the droplets of hurt and humiliation
That gradually painted our hearts black?
Was it as sudden as the illumination of betrayal
The spike of ice cold acid in the veins
The shock of the inevitable,
The realisation of all our fears?
Or was it always there
Carried within
Before it ever had a name?
.

Sunny Side Up

it’s been a thin time all round
inky black and such
hard graft for the crooked
a long stretch for the touched
the good people of the parish
shell a little corn into my cup
but it’s one of those deals
where you fight for your meals
it’s not all sunny side up
.

Scream

This writing is futile
I can’t express how I feel
Not in so many words
I’d like to take my pain
Roll it into a ball
And stuff it down your throat
So you’d be mute like me
Your seams leaking
Blotting your copy book
With a silent crimson scream
.

Speed Bomb

awkward high <> like a speed bomb that went down the wrong way <> all new oblique angles <> strange dimensions and hollows <> each crevice a new expression in feeling <> strange there should be new situations to chart <> this late in the game <> a familiar sickly taste <> with a different flavour <> impossible to quantify <> pleasure and pain <> this knife cuts both ways <> unease has become an art form <> the pool is still <> but under lurks <> a drowning <> a car crash <> a train wreck <> a fucking catastrophe <> if it’s true <> it’s not true <> but what if it is true? <> get a grip <> your morbid imagination will be the death of you <> that which you fear <> you draw to you <> you have to reach for the man within <> or be the man without <> keep a sceptical eye on the bad news <> favour the good thing <> catch that positive curve <> slide in under the barriers <> when the bogey man looks away

.

Dolphin

He once failed a micro flocculation test. It came back positive for syphilis. He said it was the last time he ever paid for sex – the whores on Cockburn Street were riddled with the pox. I was feeling decidedly antsy – crank bugs from the blue flake – Peruvian magic dust, the finest money could buy, ninety percent pure, or so he said.

A creeping numbness spread through my limbs, my heart beat like a hammer and my mouth was dry as dust. He fuzzed in and out of focus for a moment and I listened as he traced the contours of depravity like a veteran whore master. “We are all whores,” he pronounced, “Everyone has their price. The only question is how much?”

We snorted some more charlie and he scratched his crotch with obscenely dirty fingernails. He said he’d just as soon fuck a hairy arsed boy as a beautiful woman and he eyed me salaciously. He seemed brutal and repugnant to my young eyes. He spoke with all the eloquence of a rabid baboon; “In this business you have to be like a shark. You have to be cold and ruthless. I understand these people ‘cause I’m a shark too.” It was then I realised for the first time that I was a dolphin.

.

.

Necrophiliac

poor boy has a gimmick
he contacts the deceased
with glass beads
and cardboard figurines
his memory resurrects
the dear departed
through necromancy
and bad poetry
he disarms them
with his european smile
and easy charm
but his smooth patois
conceals a deep distrust
of the living
and morbid fascination
with the dead
.

Euthanize

treatment is symptomatic
there is no cure
no wonder drug
no universal panacea
just elemental narcotics
to ease the pain
of twisted nerves
in a deviant body
a little chicken soup

for a tortured soul

who conjured up this
slouching abomination?
his furrowed brow
and unnatural posture
speak of untold burdens
so feed him, free him
turn him loose
put a bullet in his brain pan
and bid him farewell
.

Voiceless

Poor Boy looked into the sky and said:
“Oh God, please get me outta here...”
But God did not hear him
The distance

Between

        Heaven and Earth

Being what it is

Silenced at birth by unseen hands
It was more than just the money
(or lack of it)
There was a poverty of spirit
And a quiet sense of shame
That couldn’t be erased
He was a sounding brass
A hollowed out man
Just one of billions 
Stuffed down the crapper
The justice in that
For the moment escaped him
.

Undertow

cancellations will occur      due to unforeseen circumstances      I’m coughing my guts up     a gasping clearance     of the regurgitate     burning reflux     that’s a choking sign     many are the good men     who drowned in their own vomit     that’s not the way      I want to go 

the final slumber     the open gate     there’s an easy route       to accidental escape        gluttony and carelessness      don’t swim too far       there’s a shallow shelf      then it gets real deep       the undertow will drag you down     beware the undertow      drag you down

.

Indica

Lend me your implosion

Spin me some indica

Light me a sensitizer

Pass it on quick

I’m not long for this dimension

Give me metabolic connections

To the man within

Direct me through the proper channels

To the district coordinator

For the living dead/undead

The lean mean concrete machine

Is grinding me down

Dehumanised and processed

Into human pate

I got the F-E-A-R

Chronic

.

Ghosts

Chaos bless them – prisoners of the winter skies who await the settling of the sun when night sings songs of damage and pain. Silence seeps from the cracks of less well-ordered lives to soak the heart and stain the soul. There are those who would not trade their sadness for joy, but would hold it dear for it denotes the passing of something precious. There are some who would hold the empty night close to their hearts as the only remnants of loves lost, or dreams that died. They would eschew the dawn preferring the company of ghosts.

Other

The other was inspired by the devil, the devil was inspired by Oscar Wilde. He spiked him with the promise of eternal youth – he would never be old and he’d never face death. He became the other by chance while bathing in his own splendour at the age of nineteen. That’s when he discovered he had this thing for the girls and they reciprocated quite regularly.

Soon he was way too big for his own boots and boy did he love it all. He hung with the outsiders, because birds of a feather hang together. He learned that rules were written – only to be broken. That’s a delicious thrill – the taboo in you being torn from its nest. He did it all and, for good measure, more than once. He was slick as Casanova and as bad as Jesse James. Off he went lickety split, the other knew the dance, but the devil called the tune.

.

Never… Perhaps…

I was never...
but yes
I was once
when it was forbidden
a stranger’s embrace

that forgotten name
did we ever?
more than once
to test the flesh
and taste the sweat

there was one
penetrated the illusion
with subtle grace
asked the question
are you for real?

the answer confusion
cat had my tongue
I lit for the shadow
I was once yes
but now am undone

I was always real
I just did not know
the futility of play
sampling the real
I lost my way

tomorrow

not

    tomorrow

but yesterday

think that I must
I was never...
but yes,
I think I once was
.

Ecstasy

 

It was good gear; less speedy than a Mitsubishi, but with a cerebral buzz on the top and a heavy body hit like the ecstasy of old. It delivered its silky messages through the loving membrane to the centre of my brain with a herald of triumphant feathered horns. Liquid ease poured through my veins as smoothly as warm treacle. My head was as open and clear as a Sunday morning hush; my bells were ringing in celebration. It was good gear alright, and it tinkled with expectation.

 

The phone trilled musically – so I answered it. I recognised the voice immediately, it was my ex, and she was out to break my balls.

 

“I’ve seen you with that girl and you disgust me” she shrilled.

 

She needn’t have looked. No-one forced her to look, she was just nosey. She cranked it up a level – strictly for my benefit. I held the receiver away from my bloody ear. She had to vent her spleen;

 

“There is a word for men like you – you’re a pervert!” she concluded.

 

Seventeen in leather boots; I must’ve been out of my mind. She was my Lolita moment, forbidden fruit fresh on the vine; I couldn’t help but take a bite. I was old enough to be her father, maybe that was the point, I didn’t ask. We asked no questions and we told no lies. I mounted her like a billy goat. I had the situation well in hand – a few sharp thrusts – a few long strokes... I was slippery to the hilt, she made cooing noises.

 

Those budding breasts, emerging fleshy pears, all smooth and jiggling, were a feast for my hungry eyes. There was the sloppy slap of sodden groins; the strain of muscle and sinew, my senses where alive to her scent, her essence. All concentration went to the pulse at the centre of my being – my throbbing cock. The moment stretched and arrested. My cock, my monument to virility, exploded disgorging a million incendiaries into her womb. Cool shards of ecstasy foamed through our bodies with orgasmic delight. We collapsed back onto the bed – all spent and tingling like electric eels. We expanded into the night to become all the lovers in all the world.

 

I salute you Madame. Here’s to your brace of porcine offspring and their ashtray faced urchins. Take a drag sweet lady, there is nothing like this at sea, just sweaty hands and a quick rubdown with a wet sponge. I am a pervert. I’m a cradle snatcher – indecent and rapacious.

 

“That’s good gear” I said

 

“Where did you get it?”

 

“From Santa Clause” She replied

 

“Enough said”

 

She liked to dance and I liked to watch her dance. Her moves were purely sexual, not everybody can dance that way. She was going through a pupation; the final emergence of her sex. She was pretty basic in that she didn’t play games. I liked it like that. I had enough complication in my life.

When she’d come over we’d talk a little and then we’d cop some E’s and fuck all night. She’d dance for me and we’d dance together; then we’d fuck some more.

 

Dancing naked is a freeing experience, you feel quite exposed. You feel you are doing something primal, magical, but it’s no good on your own - you need a partner, one at least. That’s the beauty of ecstasy – it frees you up to the possibility of self expression without inhibition.

 

“Ever smoked an E?” She asked.

 

“Smoked it?” I enquired.

 

“Yeah, crush it into pipe and smoke it”.

 

“No – never”

 

“Wanna try?” She asked

 

“Yeah – go for it” I replied.

 

I’ll try anything once and twice for good measure. I took a blast, I took some more. It felt good; a thousand doves fanned my lungs and spread their soft wings across my heart. My blood surged with electrical potential into my fevered brain and pulsed in easy beats to the rhythm of my heart. Something magical seeped into my eager flesh and I felt as buoyant as a cloud. I shed warm rain from my opened pores and unfolded out into the universe like a hungry flower.

 

“This is good” I oozed.

 

“Told you” – she had.

 

“This is fabulous”

 

“It’s great, but it doesn’t last long” she said.

 

“Nothing good ever does” I replied.

 

She was candy sweet, my Georgia peach. The world revolved on  those slender hips. She lit me up and gladdened my heart. We frolicked as children in the summer sun and for one brief season we were the best of pals. But summers end in autumn leaves and our autumn arrived all too soon.

“I’ll never forget you.”

It was a bombshell. I knew it was over. She hadn’t said as much, but she was already thinking of me in the past tense. I had always known it would come. I’m a realist. However, I hadn’t anticipated the sinking sensation that gripped my heart. I took it on the chin though and kept the beat.

“And I’ll never forget you.”

 

With 20/20 I can see that it was a learning experience for us both. Our covert assignations were thrilling and instructive. She learned to wield her power as a woman. I learned to love with a lighter touch. We both received as much as we gave and I have only fond memories of her.

The days receded as summer dwindled. Things were winding down and she came around less frequently. There was no discussion, no heart-searching, no tears. We never said goodbye – she just stopped visiting. I never saw her again, but I never did forget.

 

Mental

I made a cunt of myself      for no real reason    that spike through my heart    the faulty adrenal gland       sending acidic transmissions      through my mind and body    I could tear my skin off, fuck!

I spiralled on terrible trajectories     Like that moth in the bathroom     on its fatal last flight     an elongated spasm racked    and viciously surged

the reckless head load of poison      acrid in my mouth     my words have cancer     cutting words, killing words     no balance attenuated      no reason attempted     all passive strategy      lies in wait for the unwary       then pounces ferocious    Into the maelstrom, fuck you!  fuck you!      and fuck you too   

I’ll smash your face in       eat your entrails for breakfast     tear the stars from their sockets and grind them to dust    don’t come home       I started a fight      and  damaged my being      with psychotic clubs
.

rubbers

there was time to murder    down at the cemetery   where lecherous old doggers     retched and decaying    rolled off slippery with sweat and cum    having telegraphed images    pornographic in nature     to their casual hook ups     and anal slime buddies      who stood with their phones    in regimental order       their viagra fuelled members       stiff to attention

the klu klux midnight jamboree   is pursuing their orgasmic high    in a well worn car park    by the broken leisure centre     with his    or her    eyes   on tonight’s shallow prize    “we’ll go at it bareback”   declared the brassy young beastial   “so shed ‘em and spread ‘em    the devil take the hindmost   I heard he prefers his meat doggy style”

“you have a bonny mouth    lets you and me be friends      you suck real good     now put your teeth back in      the queen of sheba    is in the next motor   cannibalising mirrors    and playing the diva…”     he was expecting caviar  on crisp golden crackers    but settled for sloppy seconds     as did his lady in waiting     the unnamed bendy bird     with the black nylon hair

sometimes meat      sickens me a while     no doubt the occasional dalliance       brings pleasure to the senses    but it does nothing for my soul      so I’m going home      to an ice cold shower    that kind of love is hard on the haunches     besides the last rubbers left     with my favourite lover     but I still got her number     coz she expects meat       and I’ve got that in my locker    

 

Yahweh

a long time ago
the great god Yahweh
unleashed on the Earth
war, plague, famine, and death
in generalised semantics
those parasitic beings
called homo sapiens
bearing fatal messages
of peace, love and harmony
while they butchered
with glorious indifference
and espoused primal laws
the survival of the fittest
to justify their ignorance
pleased to meet you
you and me shoot good
we be friends
eat my gun

the end

.

Flowers

Whose grave did you rob

To bring me flowers

How much did you steal

To buy my love

Where did you go to

When I needed your shoulder

Who will you turn to

When I show you the door

.