Hey alright, shit man well I'm going to try something new tonight, which is what the missus said to me as she strapped on a dildo of dizzying proportions and entered me like a bank robber high on ketamine and blood lust, so if you see me limping towards the bar to get my nightly dose of poison spare a thought a thought to a man whose world have changed for ever. I expect to have flashbacks for the rest of my life, never mind its good to broaden your horizons, is what she said as she filled my reluctant rectum to bursting point, at one point I think I started to hallucinate, I saw those identical twins from the shining in the corner of the room eating hot dogs as they laughed in Japanese, it's rather curious to me why my tortured brain should conjure such an image, brain chemistry altered by blunt force trauma probably. Weddings vows never mentioned these kind of things do they? Actually it would be quite entertaining if they did, do you Scott Michael take Fifi Fucking Trixibelle to bum you? My wedding vows were hand written by a gifted yet troubled rent collector from Stuttgart, of course it was in German and useless but hey he's a nice guy, his grandfather didn't gas that many people regardless of what the papers say, he tried but he was a raging alcoholic and never turned up for work, once he and his mates broke in after lights out and put traffic cones of the heads of the fattest Jew they could find. There weren't many of course but they were fucking wasted man and it's the thought that counts right? Regrettable family members is a common theme through history and Jesus man I have some beauties, the auntie that never and I mean never swallows what I give her for fear of contamination, the brother in law that thinks that an African Clawed Frog has stolen his ability to use a microwave when it's raining, my beloved brother bless him in all his endeavours has the unfortunate habit of pissing on people, it is one of the wonders of the world to see him piss in the face of complete strangers as he sings rugby songs, I have tried to get him to post something on youtube but he is reluctant, it doesn't help that he has a cock of a bashful Lungfish but we live in hope don't we?
As a change of pace, I'd like to read this to you
THE MINER
She smelled of perfume and lady sweat,
of coconut oil and sunshine, these are
the things I remember of her while
she is away, working at the mineface
of tribulation. All this she does so I
can pursue my dream, a foolhardy dream
that has preoccupied me since I was
old enough to hold the tools of my trade,
these hands of mine are blessed with brilliance,
bathed in the light of inspiration. But lately I
have terrible dreams that dam the flow of articulation
and my soul is saddened, what was once
a fiercely burning desire is now a ruse, a scam.
Nothing excites me, the sight of her naked
flesh only hints at the sagging yet to come,
that her supple flesh doomed to ashes and
mine with it, hope is just a word, my
feelings belong to another, thoughts, voices,
they plague my waking slumber that some
derisively call life. I fear the worst is yet to
come, help me, won't somebody help me?
Before it's too late and madness engulfs
me completely.
There that's better, it hurts my feeble and childish mind to store these thoughts, the words swirl and breed until only God himself can sort out the mess in my mind. I remember one occasion when I believed that I had alien hand syndrome, for those of you not familiar with its an unusual neurological disorder in which one of the sufferer's hands seems to take on a mind of its own and all kind of crazy shit was going on man, grabbing tits and asses, hurling my shit at buses and constantly wanking but then I realised that it was just the puppet master that is more commonly know as God pulling my strings, I cut the strings and peace was returned to my life. The old bastard still plays tricks on me, yeah, I married her. She's just as bad as I am, once she was convinced that telepathic birds were planning to get her mind pregnant, Jesus woman I told, your seven kinds of crazy. She nearly set fire to our bed, with me still in it just because the post man didn't smile when she saw him in Tesco's, the drugs don't help but without them she's fucked, anyway I love her and that the end of it.
Wednesday 4 March 2009
NEPHOPHOBIA
He likes winter best as the sun barely shines, bruised and awkward
skies from which he hides himself. Not from fear but from need,
the need of a tormented mind. He isn't sure how it all started
but he would bet his last tenner that drugs were involved.
The gloom of night soothes frayed nerves and the lights
of the office comforts him like a quilt on a cold night
he knows they are out the waiting, waiting to ruin
what little peace of mind that he has, children play games
with them, lovers lament them, they can make or break
a picnic on the beach. He knows the truth, they are the
harbingers of doom, destruction and desolation.
Cloud after cloud spreads across the world, he imagines
their birth as they are brewed up in the bowels of
hell. He lives in darkness so he cannot witness their
spread of annihilation and terror. There is no escape
from them, there are everywhere. He cries in his sleep
Oh death where is thy sting?
MY PRAYER
Fear is a part of me,
my life, my future,
my past, nothing can
erase the memories
this broken mind
holds, Oh lord spare
me from the influence of
those that seek to harm
me, you know them and
their intentions. Help me
circumnavigate their traps
and snares as they plan to
stop me finding happiness
and fulfilment. Your help is
sorely needed, do not cast
me out into the darkness
and gnashing of teeth,
strengthen a timid
heart, let me roar like a
loin as face my enemies
in battle.
Either that or let me
get laid.
DENIZENS OF THE 7TH PARALLEL
In the multitudes of the
world there are those
that see beyond the
constraints of reality,
some revel in
an existence where
telepathy and
precognition is the
linga franca,
others are destroyed
by the gift that they
were born with,
unable to comprehend
the world that they
live in they are
tormented by the
voices of others
and they seek
refuge in drugs,
drink, desperation,
anything to stop the
chaos in their minds.
Such distraction
never works, once
you are born into
the 7th parallel
nothing but death
can free you. Some
lucky denizens
adapt, some thrive
and prosper, I am not
one of them,
anarchy and misery
is all that I found,
happiness and
serenity is impossible
for me, this I have found
through many wasted
years. Years where I have
walked the roads of the
impossible and have forseen
the worlds decline into
lawlessness and acts
of extreme hatred.
HISTORY LESSON
A folded magazine on the table,
an empty cup, nothing else
nothing else, her clothes are
burning in the garden as
I sort through photos selecting
memories most hideous to
mind and body, they too
will join the furnace of
my hatred, images
flash through unfortunate
mind as my lips long for
her gentle caress once more,
then the radio plays the song
which was the soundtrack
to our playful lovemaking
and the tears swirl down
beaten cheeks.
CELESTIAL TWILLIGHT
After a sodden purge, I woke to find broken glass
and a week old kebab blooming with mold
and bacteria. Patchy memories of drunken, abusive
calls to those that had left me, girls long gone
but often remembered in the depths of my self
pity. Love is not a gift the Lord is willing to
bestow upon me, oh, the occasional fuck come
my way, plain, uninteresting women with the
personality of a spoon. I feast upon their
sex like a man who may never have the chance
again. I loathe life, even the word itself pains
me like a spear through the heart, why was
I not consulted before being sent here, if I
knew what disquiet and distress was waiting
for me I would have never come here, then dream
upon dream she arrives, the one with faithful thighs
and a silken laugh that recalls the peaceful moments
in one of Shakespeare's comedies. Easy, quick witted
and full of love, things go well, really well and at last
I understand the path the has been laid out for me,
wretched with loneliness I did not see the worlds
beauty, she teaches me to love myself again in quick
easy lessons that a child could understand and we
marry under the stars which I once longed to return to.
1998
Muted and smoke haunted the bar didn't seem much,
the barmaid plain but blessed with bounteous breast
which amused the customers, the music leaked into
the collective consciousness like a pathogenic virus
intent on slaughter, hours, days, an entire lifetime
spent within the four walls of the Reef, time not
regretted but given with honour and respect to the
altar of our ever loving god of the good times. Early
mornings spent recovering, late nights in raucous
abandon. Chance meetings of friends lost to the
ever ticking clock, life lived with the constant
accompaniment of the vessel of our destruction,
pint after pint poured down willing throats, then
cursed the next day, the question remains unasked
why do we spend our lives poisoning ourselves?
The answer, well the answer remains to be discovered.
Perhaps if Socrates were alive he would know, but
he too poisoned himself with hemlock, just like us.
He likes winter best as the sun barely shines, bruised and awkward
skies from which he hides himself. Not from fear but from need,
the need of a tormented mind. He isn't sure how it all started
but he would bet his last tenner that drugs were involved.
The gloom of night soothes frayed nerves and the lights
of the office comforts him like a quilt on a cold night
he knows they are out the waiting, waiting to ruin
what little peace of mind that he has, children play games
with them, lovers lament them, they can make or break
a picnic on the beach. He knows the truth, they are the
harbingers of doom, destruction and desolation.
Cloud after cloud spreads across the world, he imagines
their birth as they are brewed up in the bowels of
hell. He lives in darkness so he cannot witness their
spread of annihilation and terror. There is no escape
from them, there are everywhere. He cries in his sleep
Oh death where is thy sting?
MY PRAYER
Fear is a part of me,
my life, my future,
my past, nothing can
erase the memories
this broken mind
holds, Oh lord spare
me from the influence of
those that seek to harm
me, you know them and
their intentions. Help me
circumnavigate their traps
and snares as they plan to
stop me finding happiness
and fulfilment. Your help is
sorely needed, do not cast
me out into the darkness
and gnashing of teeth,
strengthen a timid
heart, let me roar like a
loin as face my enemies
in battle.
Either that or let me
get laid.
DENIZENS OF THE 7TH PARALLEL
In the multitudes of the
world there are those
that see beyond the
constraints of reality,
some revel in
an existence where
telepathy and
precognition is the
linga franca,
others are destroyed
by the gift that they
were born with,
unable to comprehend
the world that they
live in they are
tormented by the
voices of others
and they seek
refuge in drugs,
drink, desperation,
anything to stop the
chaos in their minds.
Such distraction
never works, once
you are born into
the 7th parallel
nothing but death
can free you. Some
lucky denizens
adapt, some thrive
and prosper, I am not
one of them,
anarchy and misery
is all that I found,
happiness and
serenity is impossible
for me, this I have found
through many wasted
years. Years where I have
walked the roads of the
impossible and have forseen
the worlds decline into
lawlessness and acts
of extreme hatred.
HISTORY LESSON
A folded magazine on the table,
an empty cup, nothing else
nothing else, her clothes are
burning in the garden as
I sort through photos selecting
memories most hideous to
mind and body, they too
will join the furnace of
my hatred, images
flash through unfortunate
mind as my lips long for
her gentle caress once more,
then the radio plays the song
which was the soundtrack
to our playful lovemaking
and the tears swirl down
beaten cheeks.
CELESTIAL TWILLIGHT
After a sodden purge, I woke to find broken glass
and a week old kebab blooming with mold
and bacteria. Patchy memories of drunken, abusive
calls to those that had left me, girls long gone
but often remembered in the depths of my self
pity. Love is not a gift the Lord is willing to
bestow upon me, oh, the occasional fuck come
my way, plain, uninteresting women with the
personality of a spoon. I feast upon their
sex like a man who may never have the chance
again. I loathe life, even the word itself pains
me like a spear through the heart, why was
I not consulted before being sent here, if I
knew what disquiet and distress was waiting
for me I would have never come here, then dream
upon dream she arrives, the one with faithful thighs
and a silken laugh that recalls the peaceful moments
in one of Shakespeare's comedies. Easy, quick witted
and full of love, things go well, really well and at last
I understand the path the has been laid out for me,
wretched with loneliness I did not see the worlds
beauty, she teaches me to love myself again in quick
easy lessons that a child could understand and we
marry under the stars which I once longed to return to.
1998
Muted and smoke haunted the bar didn't seem much,
the barmaid plain but blessed with bounteous breast
which amused the customers, the music leaked into
the collective consciousness like a pathogenic virus
intent on slaughter, hours, days, an entire lifetime
spent within the four walls of the Reef, time not
regretted but given with honour and respect to the
altar of our ever loving god of the good times. Early
mornings spent recovering, late nights in raucous
abandon. Chance meetings of friends lost to the
ever ticking clock, life lived with the constant
accompaniment of the vessel of our destruction,
pint after pint poured down willing throats, then
cursed the next day, the question remains unasked
why do we spend our lives poisoning ourselves?
The answer, well the answer remains to be discovered.
Perhaps if Socrates were alive he would know, but
he too poisoned himself with hemlock, just like us.
Sunday 25 January 2009
THE IDEA
The idea hit him with the force of
a deftly thrown punch, it knocked
him sideways into the path of a little old
dear on her way to the post office to collect some
airmail envelopes, it was the first time she had
sworn in 10 years but my God didn't she put
some effort in! Each filthy syllable was drenched
in enough anger and scorn to make an Australian
blush. The idea took hold quickly and spread from
person to person like a STD of the mind, soon it was
noticed by those that govern us, the army was deployed
against those that they had sworn to protect and the
revolution was crushed in it's early stages. The
idea did not die, it hid out of the reach for
many, many years and when the time was right
it took hold and transformed the world. The idea?
That we are our own personal God and
nothing shall prevent us from fashioning the
world as we please. Government, organised
religion, banks these are the things that should be
fought against. Love each other,
love the earth the feeds you, love those that
have gone before you, love the those that are
to come into your life and most of all your yourself.
The idea hit him with the force of
a deftly thrown punch, it knocked
him sideways into the path of a little old
dear on her way to the post office to collect some
airmail envelopes, it was the first time she had
sworn in 10 years but my God didn't she put
some effort in! Each filthy syllable was drenched
in enough anger and scorn to make an Australian
blush. The idea took hold quickly and spread from
person to person like a STD of the mind, soon it was
noticed by those that govern us, the army was deployed
against those that they had sworn to protect and the
revolution was crushed in it's early stages. The
idea did not die, it hid out of the reach for
many, many years and when the time was right
it took hold and transformed the world. The idea?
That we are our own personal God and
nothing shall prevent us from fashioning the
world as we please. Government, organised
religion, banks these are the things that should be
fought against. Love each other,
love the earth the feeds you, love those that
have gone before you, love the those that are
to come into your life and most of all your yourself.
Saturday 24 January 2009
STUPID SHIT 2
Dan the hippy house mate used to make
his own aftershave, witch hazel, olive oil,
rosemary and all kinds of shit went into
it, he used to keep it in a glass jar under
his bed, we added our own secret ingredients
that ensured we would be entertained.
It started off with early morning man
waste or as a doctor would say, urine.
Then a drug dealer sorted us out with
liquid acid and fuck me you should
have seen the cunt trip, he was flying
but after a day he didn't come down and
now the poor bastard is in the nut
house, my, how we still laugh about it.
Never did like the self righteous twat.
Dan the hippy house mate used to make
his own aftershave, witch hazel, olive oil,
rosemary and all kinds of shit went into
it, he used to keep it in a glass jar under
his bed, we added our own secret ingredients
that ensured we would be entertained.
It started off with early morning man
waste or as a doctor would say, urine.
Then a drug dealer sorted us out with
liquid acid and fuck me you should
have seen the cunt trip, he was flying
but after a day he didn't come down and
now the poor bastard is in the nut
house, my, how we still laugh about it.
Never did like the self righteous twat.
Friday 23 January 2009
IF ONLY...
Yesterday must remain an impossibility, not
that it seemed like it at the time, but trust me
on this one, no large hadron collider smashing
together particles can change that. It's a life
time ago, it's time to let it go and live life
before it is taken from you with a smile
and a shake of hand. The muttered congratulatory
words that fall on deaf ears, you know the truth
of how you spent your time. Wanking and drinking
mostly and from a young age too, dirty bastard. At least
you knocked that on the head early on and tried
to mend your broken, shit filled path with
pavestones bought at great expense from the
quarry of man. Why go back anyway, it's boring
and filled with loneliness and longing, why?
can't you remember? she left you for another,
fed up with your childish ways and moved
in with her bi sexual mate, who you tried it
on with, you daft bastard. Both consigned
to the rubbish heap of history and you with
sticky palms and greasy grin. Twat.
Yesterday must remain an impossibility, not
that it seemed like it at the time, but trust me
on this one, no large hadron collider smashing
together particles can change that. It's a life
time ago, it's time to let it go and live life
before it is taken from you with a smile
and a shake of hand. The muttered congratulatory
words that fall on deaf ears, you know the truth
of how you spent your time. Wanking and drinking
mostly and from a young age too, dirty bastard. At least
you knocked that on the head early on and tried
to mend your broken, shit filled path with
pavestones bought at great expense from the
quarry of man. Why go back anyway, it's boring
and filled with loneliness and longing, why?
can't you remember? she left you for another,
fed up with your childish ways and moved
in with her bi sexual mate, who you tried it
on with, you daft bastard. Both consigned
to the rubbish heap of history and you with
sticky palms and greasy grin. Twat.
Thursday 22 January 2009
Daily Dose
ROUGH JUSTICE
He made a miniature statue
of Christ The Redeemer
from a bar of soap, it took
him three months of laborious
effort and sweat. Then his
fucking dog ate it and in
a fit of rage he pinned
the bloody thing to the floor
using a nail gun, it took
Sable two weeks to die
and the smell was noticed
by the neighbours who
complained to the council,
he was arrested shortly
after and was sent to
prison for a year where he
was promptly made a
bitch by a convicted murder
who liked tight asses, not
that he was tight for long.
He made a miniature statue
of Christ The Redeemer
from a bar of soap, it took
him three months of laborious
effort and sweat. Then his
fucking dog ate it and in
a fit of rage he pinned
the bloody thing to the floor
using a nail gun, it took
Sable two weeks to die
and the smell was noticed
by the neighbours who
complained to the council,
he was arrested shortly
after and was sent to
prison for a year where he
was promptly made a
bitch by a convicted murder
who liked tight asses, not
that he was tight for long.
Wednesday 21 January 2009
New Stuff
TRUNK OF FUNK
the elephant faced child burst into flames
as the sulphur in his eyes ignited. His school
was bathed in glorious light as he hands turned to ash
only his parents cried because he had an unfortunate
manner and was the spreader of lies and disease.
The fact that he had spent considerable amount
of time underground was of no consequence,
just like him.
UNTITLED
she was so beautiful that God wept
when she returned to Earth, but return
she did for she brought hope to an ailing
and war torn world, where even love
was traded as a commodity. Orphaned
at a young age, she knew and understood
sorrow, how grief can seem like a burden
so heavy that no man alone can carry it.
That some can standby as the strongest
self destruct in front of them and
do nothing but mouth platitudes.
Empty friendships with filled with
doubt and envy, there was no one
there for her when she needed it,
this she understood but her belief
never wavered. For inside she carried
God greatest gift, a gift that burned
so brightly that even cold, cold logic
could not extinguish it. It was her
secret, her past, her future, her dreams
were filled with it. The day that she married
her secret was shared with the one that
she returned for, it was her wedding
gift. What was her secret? It is
not for us to know.
OKINAWA
He raked the gravel into precise lines, learned
from his master a life time ago, his mind filled with
the events of the day. Things that mattered not
to man nor child. He reflected that life is full
of little things that eat up time like it is a
ravenous parasite that has no regard for it's host.
The Yamazakura tree looked forlorn as he worked,
the tree was a favourite of his, old companions
both with the same desire, beauty and permeance.
Both with parts to play in the cycle of life.
The thought that he too would pass into the unknown
the unknowable had plagued him since childhood
He saw death and was afraid of it's simplicity,
one false step into the path of an oncoming
lorry and the laughter died within him. He
cannot remember that last time happiness found
him, since that day the world had seemed a
gray and unlovely place. He found his peace
in his art and meditation kept the worst at bay,
he tended the tree with love and devotion
the harsh winter months he endured with
a hollow heart, hoping the visitors would
still come, then spring returned and with
it hope, the Yamazakura tree blossomed
and his heart rejoiced once more, even
this only reminded him of what he had
lost. For underneath the cherry blossoms
laid the remains of his much cherished wife.
GOODBYE FIREBALL
He stood by drunkenly as the rain fell into
the open grave that was to be his own,
blisters covered his hands but his discomfort
was the last thing on his mind. He was waiting
till sunrise, the gun cleaned and primed
waiting to despatch him. He could hear
laughter where there should be tears,
Voices without bodies had driven him
to this, this act of cowardly bravery that
would be his final moment on this world
the sense of rightness that he should pay
for his sins in this way wavered and
he wondered for the first time if he
should go home and sleep it off. Sunrise
was not far off and he could see the outlines
of his blistered hands. No long to wait now
he thought as he brushed the rain of his
face, redemption through suicide is not
possible, only the one that watches over
us can do that, the redeemer of all mankind
he thinks as he checks his bullets. Counting
them as if they were his own children. No long
now as light steals over the land and
Fireball Roberts blows his fucking brains out.
THE HOSTAGE
Lord I asked you to lead me not into temptation,
but still she swings into my life like a wrecking
ball. She reduces all in her path to rubble, after the
destruction, calm. I assess the damage, shit man
the whole lot has gone. Self confidence, self esteem,
self, self, self. In our bedroom only the mirror remains
unscathed for she loved that mirror like her own pulse,
both she checked neurotically many times a day. OCD, OCD
I used to taunt, half in jest, half in spite. For I knew that
the signs were there and she did too but she would not
confide in me. It was a rare weakness in an otherwise
impenetrable armour. Not that she needs armour, the world
is laughter filled place, and that all she has to do to
is ask with a smile for the Lords love and the host of angels
will rejoice. Long ago, when the summers lasted for a lifetime
I saw her, with her red hair flying on the swings
I knew that very moment we would be together,
Oh, how I curse how right I was. Tied into a loveless
relationship I have attempted to end it before, but like two
bodies of huge mass we are drawn together, and I cannot
achieve escape velocity, I wish that I could but I cannot.
Helplessly held hostage by love, I ask the night who will
pay my ransom? No one answers and I am doomed to
life on the edge of disaster, but at least I am not alone
for she is here, loves cursed gift. Every night she rips
open the wounds that she has created, she rejoices in
my pain, she revels in it, Oh Lord! I cry, deliver me from
this evil!! Laughing she shoots me straight through the heart.
A HEART SHARED IS A HEART HALFED
The waves crashed on the beach as she ran playfully
with her dog, natures turmoil unseen, uncared for.
Only she existed in that moment as she raced across virgin
sands towards the last sentinel of land where her lover waited
with hot chocolate and welcoming bed. War's diligence
could wait while they expressed their love in time honoured fashion
they added their own interpretation of the classics
with happy hearts and willing souls. Replete with
love they watched the oncoming night, as the lighthouse
turned them to shadows. All too soon she had to leave
for she had made a promise that was foolhardy to
break. After all her husband was expecting her.
THE TRAVELLER
Where is the one that I am to Love?
hidden in the folds of time,
her signs are everywhere for
those that know how to read them.
A song here, a movie there
add them together and the path
is noon clear, only time
separates us, but time is a
treacherous beast who
can change chameleon like
so that all you can see is the
void in your heart. Many
have been lost in the ever changing
paths that time asks of the faithful
and be assured, I know which
path to take.
20:21:00
hand in hand they watched the sun as it died it's daily death
closer and closer they drew together as excitment and
trepidation chased each other round timorous minds. Then
they kissed and took the first faltering steps towards maturity
20:21:10
the anniversary dinner lay shattered on the floor, the gravy
mixed with blood as she lay unmoving on cold tiles. The kitchen
knife jutted out from her breast like an exclamation mark to
punctuate the drama of her life, short, pointless and filled with hate.
20:21:20
He still made supper for her in bed after all they had been through
the unkind word, her indiscretions, he never lost sight of her true
nature, he forgave her for every moment of discomfort. Still he remembers
the day he first saw her, she was wild and scintillating. Just as she is today
20:21:30
He sat there waiting for a girl that would never come
happiness was never meant for him, his sins too great
for love to find him in the vast and ridiculous world
helpess he does the only thing he can, he rents one for the night.
20:21:40
the note under the pillow was a habit of hers, a whimsy but
a pleasant one, filled with nothing and everything, the day
it was not there would be a day of ill omen. Such ternderness
and adoration from one such as her was a gift from God himself.
20:21:50
I lay in bed in the twilight of dreams, who could tell one kiss could
change the world, but change it did. Never have the angels rejoiced
so much than they did that day, heaven was filled with their laughter
and song, if you listen carefully you can hear it too. For it is you I kissed.
THE TREE HUGGER
The forest was to be his resting place, amongst natures bewildering
bounty. The coffin made of cardboard to help the world digest
the once revered son of blessed union, realities harsh lesson to those
that fool themselves that they too can cheat that which awaits us all.
Shovel worried soil lay in mounds, disturbed and disgruntled worms
pleaded clemency to their God as they slithered once again beneath
the soil that concealed them, the survivors noticed not their plight
but celebrated the homecoming of the one they had lost. Happy tales
told by torchlight helped them to understand the world. Death is
an equaliser, regardless of faith, riches and love. Sorrow is an universal
language spoken by all but never let sorrows darkness into your life
banish it with a furious love of those that matter to you and you will find peace
BLACK, BLACK THOUGHTS
life's questionable gift is wasted upon me, I long for deaths embrace
to free me from turmoil and anguish, the slow release of endorphins
does little for me, the world is a dark and wearisome place where the
helpless are merely grease for the never ceasing machine that
propels us towards extinction and abject horror. Mirrors only
reflect the revulsion that I feel, the night sky holds no distraction
only echoes th darkness that has encamped in my heart like
unwanted house guests, the memory of her perfume is
like biological warfare, I cannot escape her or share her
nothing is worse than losing the one you love through your
own stupidity and inaction, she is gone, she is gone.
I am becalmed of a sea of grief with no land in sight.
THE BOYS OF SUMMER
The summer blooms like a precious orchid and my heart
rejoices because of it, I take the family down the beach
to greet the day with lovers arms, camera and tripod
are taken to record the moments of happiness which
are so fleeting every second is scrutinised like a Muslim
air passenger in America, snap, snap, snap. Frozen time
where you age not, forever ten year old, later, years later
you still remember the clothes that you once cherished
and wonder what ever happen to, fashions, seasons
change, and children change quicker then these, catch
them before the burden of maturity stoops them, happy
days on the beach where sea breeze carries away all worries
if I could only stop the sand getting in the picnic
that I would be the proudest dad on the beach,
such bright and loving children who will carry
me in their hearts long after I have been called home.
MY LOVE
Her dress was the colour of twilight, in my dreams
I held her as we listened to the dawn chorus
as our souls sang arias so beautiful that the firmament
resounded with our love, the dream vanishes like clouds
of discontent as the storm brewing inside me breaks.
The ghost of her dress is still felt in eager hands and sadly
too sadly it is lost among the banal chores of absolution,
toothpaste white is her smile but she is once again adrift
amid the sea of faces that is seen from day break to
descending night, she is always with me but I cannot hold her,
I am in love with a thought, a dream, a memory of what is to come.
Certainty and uncertainty wavers in my heart, is this what God intends?
Yes, yes it is....BELEIVE.
SARAH JAYNE
They say that the only foolish questions are unasked ones,
you made a fool of me when I did not ask you out that
day when the passions pulse beat so hard I lost my footing
and ended up prostrate in the disabled toilet, oh how you
laughed. I thought the smell of wee would put you off
so I slunk into the distance with burning ears and the
moment passed, everytime you saw me after that
you giggled and my nerves got them better of me
and I could never recapture what we had lost. Fuck.
I was old enough to know loves path has many false
starts, I should have never given up until you were
mine, damn my feeble heart. I let you get away. Fuck.
THE FORGOTTEN ONE
She drove a green car, just like her eyes. With shadow dark
hair, her heart was filled with churchyard light,
grave yet full of worship of the right things in life,
family, friends and respect for those that come before us.
She had an easy laugh that sounded like the lock to her heart
being slowly opened, she looked for the one who held the
right key. She looked in pubs and clubs, then moved on to galleries
and book store coffee shops. Ads in the paper was her last
attempt, even then she waited and waited and the hope
in her heart died a little each day until there was only a birthday cake
candle left and that too went out. Little did she realise that the
the Lord in a tedium of madness had forgotten her, then
whilst he was reading the books of the living came across
her name and arranged a meeting that would revive her
and let her experience first hand his love for all his children
a whirlwind romance which culminated in an underwater
marriage in the Maldives, she never looked back to the
midnight black days of singledom and died as He intended. Happy.
TIWI ISLAND
Her visa had run out years ago, she wasn't going to leave
Elysium's clinch. She would never return to Manchester's
damp streets when Darwin was a short boat ride away.
Snake Bay was her home now, the interfering government
officials could go fuck themselves with a dildo of their choice,
anyway they would have to find her first, she spent a night here,
a night there. All her stuff was in her well weathered bag, not that
she needed much, the weather was constant and the food
plentiful. Diverse landscapes, everything that mind, body
and soul needs for a happy active life, saying that she needed
a bed mate, not that she had a bed, but someone to shared
the dawn and the glory of the rainforest with. A friendly fisherman
seemed her safest bet but he only spoke the language of his tribe.
His is manhood was impressive if a little too coarse and leathery
but she was missing the company of men if you know what I mean.
But before that she badly needed to shave her legs, Jesus she looked
like a French holiday maker. So much hair! Her dreadlocks suited her,
not that she cared what she looked like as long as she could call this
place home, then happiness would be hers. Eventually the officials stopped
coming and she found a lover in the missionary on the far side of
the island to father her children as she helped spread the word of God.
THE YOUNGEST
Here she comes a stumbling
down the street, make up
smeared over her face,
she resembles a childhood
nightmare. Why does she
do it? I ask the birds and sky,
they are mute with
embarrassment as the sky
blushes and the birds are
sadly silent as they watch
her downfall, clutching an
almost empty vodka bottle
as if it contained an elixir
of life eternal, she succumbed
to gravities pull and showed
the world her undies, the
urban foxes gleefully
laughed as I hid my face
from the fledgling sun.
Helpless in the grip of
alcohol she lay in a
puddle of dirty water
and searched vainly
for her mobile
which she had lost
days ago, dropped
down the club's
toilet and flushed
out of her life.
My sweet daughter
already has a drink
problem, Lord help her.
MONKEYTOWN
Drink and drugs made a fool out of a kind
and gentle disposition, friendship that teetered
on the edge of contempt, an action away from
hostility, beyond resurrection. Then whilst in
the depths of despair an epiphany of sorts, I realised
the two D's were not for me, that they were hemlock
to me and made my heart ache and filled my soul
with a drowsy numbness. The police at the door
decided my course of action, it has been months
since my last drink and I feel that I have served
my sentence, my banishment almost complete
and the time is near in which I begin the process
of rebuilding the bridges that in my stupidity
have razed to the ground. I love you all and
wish the joy of friendship to bloom once more.
PLASTIC
I love so in so many
different ways, you are
like a sun that has been
drawn by a child, different
yet basically the same,
endless variations on a
common theme, always
true to your guiding
principles. I really like
that about you, the
imperfect faceted gem
of your heart shines
brightly in your heart
and helps me to find
you when I'm pissed
and surrounded by plastic,
pompous girls who only
want me for my astonishing
sexual prowess.
ANIMA MUNDI
Many would agree that all living things posses a pure
ethereal spirit, that cannot be seen or held in love
or sorrow, but the mind is a peculiar thing and the disturbances
of schizophrenia are many and varied, your
mind is in constant state of flux and unrest.
Peculiar ideas are one of the sign that you
have been blessed/cursed with this affliction
as I have but this idea spans backward throughout
the years like a colossal bridge which the
seekers of the world cross to safety of land.
It was my habit then to send my mind across
to different lands to see how they faired,
this day, this memorable day the world's
soul spoke to me, in frail and delicate voice
she warned me of a catastrophe so great
the it would change the way the world
would react to such perils, that the world
would act as one to alleviate pain and suffering
in short a new era of man, she told me
months before the tsunami actually happened
she showed me the bodies of those unfortunate
people washed ashore and I was powerless
to stop it happen. It has always been a
burden to me and I have never tried
again as the thought still haunts me
like a stillbirth, or the plunging people
that jumped from the world trade centre.
NIGHT NURSE...BY SIMPLY RED
for Andrew Barr
Waking up in Baney's house is a treat reserved
for friends, laughter and song awash the room
like cheap aftershave. Regardless of time or
how much disco lemonade had been consumed
the previous night it is the same routine, the spring
the drives the clockwork is wound so tight that
on still night you can hear it ticking in the Uplands,
it either that or Barney has a really rubbish watch
considering how out of date our dear, dear adventurer
is it's a bloody sun dial. Off he goes and leaves us
bereft for a year, three hundred and sixty five
days of peace and quiet is the considered opinion
our dreamless slumber is broken by abusive and
drunken phone calls at a ridiculous hour. On
his return he will shake of the dust of the other
side of the world and regale us with tales of
laughter and mayhem, a gift which he has in
abundance. Who know how many people's
lives he will touch whilst he is out there
but there are two certain things, one, that
he will not be forgotten by friends or family
and two, our lives will be sadder without him.
Spread the word Barn and who knows what
lays around the corner in this uncertain world.
buy my first collection at...
http://www.lulu.com/content/5610656
the elephant faced child burst into flames
as the sulphur in his eyes ignited. His school
was bathed in glorious light as he hands turned to ash
only his parents cried because he had an unfortunate
manner and was the spreader of lies and disease.
The fact that he had spent considerable amount
of time underground was of no consequence,
just like him.
UNTITLED
she was so beautiful that God wept
when she returned to Earth, but return
she did for she brought hope to an ailing
and war torn world, where even love
was traded as a commodity. Orphaned
at a young age, she knew and understood
sorrow, how grief can seem like a burden
so heavy that no man alone can carry it.
That some can standby as the strongest
self destruct in front of them and
do nothing but mouth platitudes.
Empty friendships with filled with
doubt and envy, there was no one
there for her when she needed it,
this she understood but her belief
never wavered. For inside she carried
God greatest gift, a gift that burned
so brightly that even cold, cold logic
could not extinguish it. It was her
secret, her past, her future, her dreams
were filled with it. The day that she married
her secret was shared with the one that
she returned for, it was her wedding
gift. What was her secret? It is
not for us to know.
OKINAWA
He raked the gravel into precise lines, learned
from his master a life time ago, his mind filled with
the events of the day. Things that mattered not
to man nor child. He reflected that life is full
of little things that eat up time like it is a
ravenous parasite that has no regard for it's host.
The Yamazakura tree looked forlorn as he worked,
the tree was a favourite of his, old companions
both with the same desire, beauty and permeance.
Both with parts to play in the cycle of life.
The thought that he too would pass into the unknown
the unknowable had plagued him since childhood
He saw death and was afraid of it's simplicity,
one false step into the path of an oncoming
lorry and the laughter died within him. He
cannot remember that last time happiness found
him, since that day the world had seemed a
gray and unlovely place. He found his peace
in his art and meditation kept the worst at bay,
he tended the tree with love and devotion
the harsh winter months he endured with
a hollow heart, hoping the visitors would
still come, then spring returned and with
it hope, the Yamazakura tree blossomed
and his heart rejoiced once more, even
this only reminded him of what he had
lost. For underneath the cherry blossoms
laid the remains of his much cherished wife.
GOODBYE FIREBALL
He stood by drunkenly as the rain fell into
the open grave that was to be his own,
blisters covered his hands but his discomfort
was the last thing on his mind. He was waiting
till sunrise, the gun cleaned and primed
waiting to despatch him. He could hear
laughter where there should be tears,
Voices without bodies had driven him
to this, this act of cowardly bravery that
would be his final moment on this world
the sense of rightness that he should pay
for his sins in this way wavered and
he wondered for the first time if he
should go home and sleep it off. Sunrise
was not far off and he could see the outlines
of his blistered hands. No long to wait now
he thought as he brushed the rain of his
face, redemption through suicide is not
possible, only the one that watches over
us can do that, the redeemer of all mankind
he thinks as he checks his bullets. Counting
them as if they were his own children. No long
now as light steals over the land and
Fireball Roberts blows his fucking brains out.
THE HOSTAGE
Lord I asked you to lead me not into temptation,
but still she swings into my life like a wrecking
ball. She reduces all in her path to rubble, after the
destruction, calm. I assess the damage, shit man
the whole lot has gone. Self confidence, self esteem,
self, self, self. In our bedroom only the mirror remains
unscathed for she loved that mirror like her own pulse,
both she checked neurotically many times a day. OCD, OCD
I used to taunt, half in jest, half in spite. For I knew that
the signs were there and she did too but she would not
confide in me. It was a rare weakness in an otherwise
impenetrable armour. Not that she needs armour, the world
is laughter filled place, and that all she has to do to
is ask with a smile for the Lords love and the host of angels
will rejoice. Long ago, when the summers lasted for a lifetime
I saw her, with her red hair flying on the swings
I knew that very moment we would be together,
Oh, how I curse how right I was. Tied into a loveless
relationship I have attempted to end it before, but like two
bodies of huge mass we are drawn together, and I cannot
achieve escape velocity, I wish that I could but I cannot.
Helplessly held hostage by love, I ask the night who will
pay my ransom? No one answers and I am doomed to
life on the edge of disaster, but at least I am not alone
for she is here, loves cursed gift. Every night she rips
open the wounds that she has created, she rejoices in
my pain, she revels in it, Oh Lord! I cry, deliver me from
this evil!! Laughing she shoots me straight through the heart.
A HEART SHARED IS A HEART HALFED
The waves crashed on the beach as she ran playfully
with her dog, natures turmoil unseen, uncared for.
Only she existed in that moment as she raced across virgin
sands towards the last sentinel of land where her lover waited
with hot chocolate and welcoming bed. War's diligence
could wait while they expressed their love in time honoured fashion
they added their own interpretation of the classics
with happy hearts and willing souls. Replete with
love they watched the oncoming night, as the lighthouse
turned them to shadows. All too soon she had to leave
for she had made a promise that was foolhardy to
break. After all her husband was expecting her.
THE TRAVELLER
Where is the one that I am to Love?
hidden in the folds of time,
her signs are everywhere for
those that know how to read them.
A song here, a movie there
add them together and the path
is noon clear, only time
separates us, but time is a
treacherous beast who
can change chameleon like
so that all you can see is the
void in your heart. Many
have been lost in the ever changing
paths that time asks of the faithful
and be assured, I know which
path to take.
20:21:00
hand in hand they watched the sun as it died it's daily death
closer and closer they drew together as excitment and
trepidation chased each other round timorous minds. Then
they kissed and took the first faltering steps towards maturity
20:21:10
the anniversary dinner lay shattered on the floor, the gravy
mixed with blood as she lay unmoving on cold tiles. The kitchen
knife jutted out from her breast like an exclamation mark to
punctuate the drama of her life, short, pointless and filled with hate.
20:21:20
He still made supper for her in bed after all they had been through
the unkind word, her indiscretions, he never lost sight of her true
nature, he forgave her for every moment of discomfort. Still he remembers
the day he first saw her, she was wild and scintillating. Just as she is today
20:21:30
He sat there waiting for a girl that would never come
happiness was never meant for him, his sins too great
for love to find him in the vast and ridiculous world
helpess he does the only thing he can, he rents one for the night.
20:21:40
the note under the pillow was a habit of hers, a whimsy but
a pleasant one, filled with nothing and everything, the day
it was not there would be a day of ill omen. Such ternderness
and adoration from one such as her was a gift from God himself.
20:21:50
I lay in bed in the twilight of dreams, who could tell one kiss could
change the world, but change it did. Never have the angels rejoiced
so much than they did that day, heaven was filled with their laughter
and song, if you listen carefully you can hear it too. For it is you I kissed.
THE TREE HUGGER
The forest was to be his resting place, amongst natures bewildering
bounty. The coffin made of cardboard to help the world digest
the once revered son of blessed union, realities harsh lesson to those
that fool themselves that they too can cheat that which awaits us all.
Shovel worried soil lay in mounds, disturbed and disgruntled worms
pleaded clemency to their God as they slithered once again beneath
the soil that concealed them, the survivors noticed not their plight
but celebrated the homecoming of the one they had lost. Happy tales
told by torchlight helped them to understand the world. Death is
an equaliser, regardless of faith, riches and love. Sorrow is an universal
language spoken by all but never let sorrows darkness into your life
banish it with a furious love of those that matter to you and you will find peace
BLACK, BLACK THOUGHTS
life's questionable gift is wasted upon me, I long for deaths embrace
to free me from turmoil and anguish, the slow release of endorphins
does little for me, the world is a dark and wearisome place where the
helpless are merely grease for the never ceasing machine that
propels us towards extinction and abject horror. Mirrors only
reflect the revulsion that I feel, the night sky holds no distraction
only echoes th darkness that has encamped in my heart like
unwanted house guests, the memory of her perfume is
like biological warfare, I cannot escape her or share her
nothing is worse than losing the one you love through your
own stupidity and inaction, she is gone, she is gone.
I am becalmed of a sea of grief with no land in sight.
THE BOYS OF SUMMER
The summer blooms like a precious orchid and my heart
rejoices because of it, I take the family down the beach
to greet the day with lovers arms, camera and tripod
are taken to record the moments of happiness which
are so fleeting every second is scrutinised like a Muslim
air passenger in America, snap, snap, snap. Frozen time
where you age not, forever ten year old, later, years later
you still remember the clothes that you once cherished
and wonder what ever happen to, fashions, seasons
change, and children change quicker then these, catch
them before the burden of maturity stoops them, happy
days on the beach where sea breeze carries away all worries
if I could only stop the sand getting in the picnic
that I would be the proudest dad on the beach,
such bright and loving children who will carry
me in their hearts long after I have been called home.
MY LOVE
Her dress was the colour of twilight, in my dreams
I held her as we listened to the dawn chorus
as our souls sang arias so beautiful that the firmament
resounded with our love, the dream vanishes like clouds
of discontent as the storm brewing inside me breaks.
The ghost of her dress is still felt in eager hands and sadly
too sadly it is lost among the banal chores of absolution,
toothpaste white is her smile but she is once again adrift
amid the sea of faces that is seen from day break to
descending night, she is always with me but I cannot hold her,
I am in love with a thought, a dream, a memory of what is to come.
Certainty and uncertainty wavers in my heart, is this what God intends?
Yes, yes it is....BELEIVE.
SARAH JAYNE
They say that the only foolish questions are unasked ones,
you made a fool of me when I did not ask you out that
day when the passions pulse beat so hard I lost my footing
and ended up prostrate in the disabled toilet, oh how you
laughed. I thought the smell of wee would put you off
so I slunk into the distance with burning ears and the
moment passed, everytime you saw me after that
you giggled and my nerves got them better of me
and I could never recapture what we had lost. Fuck.
I was old enough to know loves path has many false
starts, I should have never given up until you were
mine, damn my feeble heart. I let you get away. Fuck.
THE FORGOTTEN ONE
She drove a green car, just like her eyes. With shadow dark
hair, her heart was filled with churchyard light,
grave yet full of worship of the right things in life,
family, friends and respect for those that come before us.
She had an easy laugh that sounded like the lock to her heart
being slowly opened, she looked for the one who held the
right key. She looked in pubs and clubs, then moved on to galleries
and book store coffee shops. Ads in the paper was her last
attempt, even then she waited and waited and the hope
in her heart died a little each day until there was only a birthday cake
candle left and that too went out. Little did she realise that the
the Lord in a tedium of madness had forgotten her, then
whilst he was reading the books of the living came across
her name and arranged a meeting that would revive her
and let her experience first hand his love for all his children
a whirlwind romance which culminated in an underwater
marriage in the Maldives, she never looked back to the
midnight black days of singledom and died as He intended. Happy.
TIWI ISLAND
Her visa had run out years ago, she wasn't going to leave
Elysium's clinch. She would never return to Manchester's
damp streets when Darwin was a short boat ride away.
Snake Bay was her home now, the interfering government
officials could go fuck themselves with a dildo of their choice,
anyway they would have to find her first, she spent a night here,
a night there. All her stuff was in her well weathered bag, not that
she needed much, the weather was constant and the food
plentiful. Diverse landscapes, everything that mind, body
and soul needs for a happy active life, saying that she needed
a bed mate, not that she had a bed, but someone to shared
the dawn and the glory of the rainforest with. A friendly fisherman
seemed her safest bet but he only spoke the language of his tribe.
His is manhood was impressive if a little too coarse and leathery
but she was missing the company of men if you know what I mean.
But before that she badly needed to shave her legs, Jesus she looked
like a French holiday maker. So much hair! Her dreadlocks suited her,
not that she cared what she looked like as long as she could call this
place home, then happiness would be hers. Eventually the officials stopped
coming and she found a lover in the missionary on the far side of
the island to father her children as she helped spread the word of God.
THE YOUNGEST
Here she comes a stumbling
down the street, make up
smeared over her face,
she resembles a childhood
nightmare. Why does she
do it? I ask the birds and sky,
they are mute with
embarrassment as the sky
blushes and the birds are
sadly silent as they watch
her downfall, clutching an
almost empty vodka bottle
as if it contained an elixir
of life eternal, she succumbed
to gravities pull and showed
the world her undies, the
urban foxes gleefully
laughed as I hid my face
from the fledgling sun.
Helpless in the grip of
alcohol she lay in a
puddle of dirty water
and searched vainly
for her mobile
which she had lost
days ago, dropped
down the club's
toilet and flushed
out of her life.
My sweet daughter
already has a drink
problem, Lord help her.
MONKEYTOWN
Drink and drugs made a fool out of a kind
and gentle disposition, friendship that teetered
on the edge of contempt, an action away from
hostility, beyond resurrection. Then whilst in
the depths of despair an epiphany of sorts, I realised
the two D's were not for me, that they were hemlock
to me and made my heart ache and filled my soul
with a drowsy numbness. The police at the door
decided my course of action, it has been months
since my last drink and I feel that I have served
my sentence, my banishment almost complete
and the time is near in which I begin the process
of rebuilding the bridges that in my stupidity
have razed to the ground. I love you all and
wish the joy of friendship to bloom once more.
PLASTIC
I love so in so many
different ways, you are
like a sun that has been
drawn by a child, different
yet basically the same,
endless variations on a
common theme, always
true to your guiding
principles. I really like
that about you, the
imperfect faceted gem
of your heart shines
brightly in your heart
and helps me to find
you when I'm pissed
and surrounded by plastic,
pompous girls who only
want me for my astonishing
sexual prowess.
ANIMA MUNDI
Many would agree that all living things posses a pure
ethereal spirit, that cannot be seen or held in love
or sorrow, but the mind is a peculiar thing and the disturbances
of schizophrenia are many and varied, your
mind is in constant state of flux and unrest.
Peculiar ideas are one of the sign that you
have been blessed/cursed with this affliction
as I have but this idea spans backward throughout
the years like a colossal bridge which the
seekers of the world cross to safety of land.
It was my habit then to send my mind across
to different lands to see how they faired,
this day, this memorable day the world's
soul spoke to me, in frail and delicate voice
she warned me of a catastrophe so great
the it would change the way the world
would react to such perils, that the world
would act as one to alleviate pain and suffering
in short a new era of man, she told me
months before the tsunami actually happened
she showed me the bodies of those unfortunate
people washed ashore and I was powerless
to stop it happen. It has always been a
burden to me and I have never tried
again as the thought still haunts me
like a stillbirth, or the plunging people
that jumped from the world trade centre.
NIGHT NURSE...BY SIMPLY RED
for Andrew Barr
Waking up in Baney's house is a treat reserved
for friends, laughter and song awash the room
like cheap aftershave. Regardless of time or
how much disco lemonade had been consumed
the previous night it is the same routine, the spring
the drives the clockwork is wound so tight that
on still night you can hear it ticking in the Uplands,
it either that or Barney has a really rubbish watch
considering how out of date our dear, dear adventurer
is it's a bloody sun dial. Off he goes and leaves us
bereft for a year, three hundred and sixty five
days of peace and quiet is the considered opinion
our dreamless slumber is broken by abusive and
drunken phone calls at a ridiculous hour. On
his return he will shake of the dust of the other
side of the world and regale us with tales of
laughter and mayhem, a gift which he has in
abundance. Who know how many people's
lives he will touch whilst he is out there
but there are two certain things, one, that
he will not be forgotten by friends or family
and two, our lives will be sadder without him.
Spread the word Barn and who knows what
lays around the corner in this uncertain world.
buy my first collection at...
http://www.lulu.com/content/5610656
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