Clone of a clone

Boom!

2011-10-09T06:51:00.001-07:00

The bombs will drop on one and all
And feast upon the parots call
And burn to black the juicy hearts
And ply and prise our other parts
Turn ashen grey the bones that stick
And weak against the cursed lips
That purse and lick with tongues of power
And drip venom on the golden hour

(It won't matter if you hide and cower)

As eyes that bulge are burst and split
And skies that sting are brightly lit
And blown away the smuggly grin
The arched eyebrows, the haughty chin
The webs that spun have trapped within
A fly that lost its way again
And in human hopes and dreams alike
Beneathe the gloom and veiled respite

(Lays the key that locks eternal night)

Behind the fad of ketemin
That sets the room and head aspin
Lay dorment holes that foster faith
When reason alone cannot create
A happy means to fill the void
When god is known to be destroyed
Frightened shoals sleek to the shore
They don't know what they're looking for

(The water cares not anymore)

It's full of muck and sludge and cum
And plastic islands in the sun
As hair and teeth and skin and bits
Are assaulted by advertisement
With pills and creams and sprays and junk
Injecting plague into the trunk
Deleting all the hemeroids
An arsenal has been deployed

(Acceptance now has been destroyed)

The shell that plagues our souls so much
Will tremble at the slightest touch
As skin unthickened begins to swell
The fires risen up from hell
And all that matters cracks and twists
And not an atom will resist
The sick of masking animal
The side of things untangeable

(As names appear upon the wall)

An emptiness inhabits all
And echoes in the parrots call
The bomb will put an end to this
It even ends two lovers kiss
Come rain, come shine, come hail, come snow
Come down the bombs to us below
The rain will come and wash away
The songs of our humanity

(Insipid was our vanity

Absolved of all insanity)

The bombs will drop on one and all...

The Brood

2011-09-22T14:44:00.001-07:00

Remembering faces, dramas and bodies

Eggs warm under mother hen

Infested with lizards and razors

The brood

Rejecting the ritual, expectations change

Necks under guillotines, drop and then

Mirages of lips and luxury

From the head up

Thinking cells, determine destiny

Subconscious tomfoolery, destruction

Self is imminent

As the fantasy implodes

And every step taken leads back

To everything as it was

As it never could have been

Cats growl and attack, night

Its roots in the id and ego

Echoing a billion stars

That yearn for their doom

And at the farside of town

A couple kiss like forever

And everything is changed

And what isn't gets dismissed

Or thrown into another universe

Where beings can handle it

Where geometry is dictated by mood

And cats don't fight

And god is a bubble of sound

That musicians try to communicate with

But too proud are their notes

Too inbred are these minds

In this 'verse we leave a man behind

Enemy lines become spheres and triangles

Strangling the ground

Until we take to the air

And say a little prayer to a bubble in time

That got sick of our songs

A long time ago

And so singing a song of want

To those that don't

We pray to each other

Asking for forgiveness

Courage and security

Sure why not

What's to lose

Having faith in ourselves

The brood

Crossed Wires

2011-08-17T16:07:00.003-07:00

Once, in the wilderness of minds asleep
There lived a dragon puppet
Fibre teeth, wooden claws and paper flames
The most ferocious puppet you've ever seen
Swooping over model villages and towns
Amidst twinkling paper mache stars
He inhabited the skies and blocked out the lemon sun

His strings were pulled by a commitee of children
Each dictating the movement of limb and wing
This dragon was sorely conflicted
As tiny tinsel townsfolk scurried and screamed
Whooshing this way and that
The mighty beasts claws glistened (in so far as wood can glisten)
Whist his head and tail retracted
Looking the other way as his limbs commited to the act
Of wanton carnage

Flames burst and licked the necks of felt rooftops
And scattered pipecleaner cats out of their nooks
And into their crannys
In the background the bubbles of gleeful youths woops and cries were heard
Caught up in the frenzy of the moment
And like the two headed dog with a delicious bone
They fought for dominance

The dragons grace and form hopped, skipped and sauntered
Becoming clumsy and folded
His wires tangled, wings torn
Losing all his lustre and vitality
Dropping headfirst to the ground
In a fit of onset cerebral palsy

An elected official of the town draped in an orange peel robe
Peeked his head around sugar cube walls
And called for the tippexed Knight to slay the wicked dragon
Mounted upon a nuts-and-bolts steed controlled by index finger and thumb
He mistakes slaughter with valour until the deed is done
The dragons tail slips into a coma
His mighty roar lost in the fabric of fairy tale endings

And the audience boo and applaud
They are as mixed in emotion as the late dragon
Their wires crossed and entangled
In the wilderness of minds sleep

The Cabin

2011-08-17T16:07:00.001-07:00

The first that arrived was shot
Back of the head, blood black
The gathering pool assauged
By heavy mop and bleach

He's for the worms now...
If they'll have him

The little cabin a hostel
For the damned, a sanctuary
For the weary.. standing awkward and skinny
Against the backdrop of a broken city

Another heavy knock
Another character assassination

The door wanders with a sigh
Opening a new world for a curiosity
The slick floor yields to boots muddy
And a gristled beard leads the way

Will he ever see the sky again?
Has he earned the right?

And all that's wooden cries at him
And a woman sits alone smiling
Without illumination, it's the smell
That paints her picture

How clean, how pure
How kind, how rare

He is aware he smells like shit
A rancid bag of meat, sweating
Dowsed in alcohol and mud
To stem the wounds of his errors

Terrified of mirrors, still water
And the seeds that are growing in his mind

Condemned to scavenge and relive
The last days of humanity
It was the coldness of those sharp eyes
That killed the warmth in his heart

When the world fell apart
Two drunken dancers whiplashed in the ceilidh

The things he did, oh the things he did
In the aftermath, after the music died away
A lone survivor reaching for the sky
Climbing the struck bones and matted hair of the dead and dying

And he finds his strength in the flares
Of his nostrils, in the olfactory senses

Her smile intensifies, a bouquet, a banquet
Tasting the air, imprinting his own flecks on the painting
Until the arid air hot and blistering smelts
And mixes everything until all is filth

And as the first word leaves his mouth he knows
He is doomed, as his lady grows horns

The Summit

2011-08-04T23:54:00.000-07:00

I reached the summit eventually
Legs jelly and breath ragged
Ran, leapt and scurried all the way
Lopsided with a broken toe
It took forever and no time at all

Bent over and gorging on air
I felt the vibrations of my being
Tested and victorious
And reminesced on my quiet journey
But for the heavy breaths
And clomping limbs

Past a jellyfish the size of a tire
Down below on the flat
Stranded and displayed for
Curious kids with curious sticks
Its markings like shells
Crimson spokes curling in symmetry
Arresting all my attention
Until the rest of it came into my periphery

And so, stared out at the vastness
The sand swooning below grey skies
Playing with, in and on the wind
And the sea bordering the horizon
A cloak draped around uneven shoulders

Sounds of happy birds
Claiming their feast in the distance
Circling, banking, preying
And the precision of smaller starlets
In groups of no less than twenty
Would turn the collar of any pilot green

Between my toes lay the mixed clay and sand
With dapples of wild grass and weeds
That felt rich and coarse on my skin
Their dominion, where they could not be tamed
Merely moved by the wants of an ill tempered sea

And across the way
On a peak below
Were the vibrant ghosts of my companions
A howl in the distance
Waving me down from my throne

Surgically removed

2011-07-20T15:16:00.001-07:00

We lay the foundations
Patients slipping through the hands
That delve into red frustration
After rifling through the dark
And screaming demons into submission
With talismans of steel
To no avail

A fish without water
A healer depleted of all his faith
Staringly coldly as all he knows
Slips away into a place he cannot follow
And swallowing the sun he tries
To burn the darkness that swells inside
But still the bodies beat unwinds
Until the breath relents into a tacet

Outside it's raining
Heavy like the clap of hands on desks
Laden down with the scrawled names of the past
Every drop of rain a soul
That hits the pavement with a bang
Too many fall in rapid succession
And can't grip a single one
The drips mingling with his fettered tears
Streams that cleanse his bloodied hands

The healer gasps for air tonight
And fills his burning lungs
Plunged into a well of which his mind won't let him escape

And what would the world do?
If he bound his hands forever
And refused to help the dying
If he gave in to all this terror

What would the world do?
If he simply walked away
Down a path of flint and shale
And turned his back to the mountain
He could not scale
For fear of falling

Apartment sounds

2011-07-20T15:10:00.001-07:00

Sound is an explorer on a summer night
It checks every nook, discovers every cranny
Each door banged two floors below is a bomb exploding
Above, the stampede of hooves as the minotaur gets lost
And the neighbours are at it again

You can drown out the din with your own concoction of clicks and clangs
Joining in with the summer jambourie
But it's not pretty
Not by a longshot
The hum of the fridge is a constant, background noise
A feature of the night to focus on when the rest becomes too much
It's a crutch to balance your senses on

Get hypnotised until you notice moss growing on your sleeves
And the toilet flushing on the third, maybe the fourth floor
Stacked liked insects, grasshoppers rubbing our legs
Only no one's directing the music
The conductor is dead or dreaming
Or both

Leaving us to guide our own paths, our own sounds
And what a job we make of it

Leopards spots

2011-07-05T04:41:00.000-07:00

If the leopard changed his spots
Would he still be a leopard
Would he exchange them for stripes
Or ticks and crosses instead
Where would they go, those black dots
Bits of his shadow left behind
To be picked up by carrion perhaps
Regurgitated into the beaks of their feathered young
To be later shot down by a hunter
And forked into the mouths of babes
Until we all carry around the leftovers of the forgotten inside us

If the leopard changed his spots
What would we call him
Would he be little more than a housecat
Huge sure, but lacking ferocity
With a name like Leopold
Tamed and clipped, without edge
Another bird in a cage that has accepted her fate
Whose wings are shrinking accessories
That often get in the way
A lost culture swept aside by the brush of standardisation

If the leopard changed his spots
Traded them in for peace of mind
Pawned them to avert the gaze of judgement
Chucked them out to live a cushy life
And if the zebra tipexed her stripes
And if the shark gave up his fins
And the honey badger lost her nerve
The world would be a sadder place
Or at least a duller one
You might not agree with every leopard you meet
But at least they know what they are
And that has to count for something

My guitar

2011-06-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

My guitar has wings
It can fly, soar the heavens
Strike fear into hearts
And open them up to love
It shakes senses with its vibrations
Dilutes anger and pain
My guitar feels and saunters
It creates a rhythm for the rain
As each drop bounces and rings
Splashing into puddles of stars
Shining brightly into souls
It's a monitor for the heart
An electric shock for the brain
It's a surgeon and a hobo
Precise in its freedom
Clinical and vulgar
My guitar has a hunger
It's as old as the sea
Its salty breath hot and wild
It mimics the gulls
Their piercing cries
And the tangled fish in nets
That yearn for their liquid nests
And the fisherman who sweats
And beats his fists with pride
At tomorrows dinner
My guitar never sleeps
Though at times she is silent
Saving her voice
For when it's most needed
She feeds on the memories
Of today and the next
My guitar exists in all realities
Enters different plains
She entertains all beings
Corporeal and other
My guitar is a wet nurse
A child and a mother
A saint and a prophet
And a whore to boot
She traps men in webs of promise
And dangles whiskey before the alcoholic
She follows not the movements of my fingers
Or that of any other
She commands my hands
My thoughts, my wants
My guitar haunts the living memory
Of everyday
And swills the memories
Disorientating
Grotesque and beautiful
My talents are limited

But she is the sky

A-Z

2011-06-27T18:16:00.001-07:00

Amazing autumn, aching arm
The abled amble around the farm

Burst, blend, billow and break
The bells of brass are bombs awake

Cling, clang, crumble, cry
The crow caws with clammy eye

Damned, drone, dropped and drawn
The dead dither and drink till dawn

Enter, eager, empty, eek
The earthworm exits down the beak

Fattened feathers fuller frame
The farmer fumbles up again

Gathers grain, grips gun
Gargles gullet and glibly hums

With horned hands and hanging head
The humble farmers skin glows red

Irridescent itch, ingrown Ire
Impossible the ice catches fire

And juggling jibes and jibber jabber
The jocular farmer climbs jacobs ladder

Kills the krow (I know I know)
He's a king that keeps his kharma low

Licks lips and with liquid lense
Locks his eyes on languishing men

The meagre martyr too myopic
Their mastery is microscopic

Nod, nibble, nits and nobs
The nectar dribbles down their gob

Oaf and ogre, oxen and owl
The old ones organs odour foul

Purist petals preen and prick
The pretty age, their pollen picked

The queen of quadratics quips and quakes
Her quantum quandry quickening shapes

Rooted, rotund, roman rose
A rare rhododendron in regal repose

Saunters, slips in streams of sirocco
Sails the seas its soul staccato

Thunderous thud, thumping thigh
The toad of a farmer takes his time

Undulating udders urgent unkept
The underdog utters under his breath

Violet, vexed, vicious voracity
He vaults and unveils his venal capacity

Wobbles, wibbles, warbles and wanes
The wife of the warrior writhes in the rain

Xplode, xpand, xhaulted, xpleted
Xtrapolate and assertain that yes I have cheated

Yelling and yodling, yipping and yawing
Yesterdays years yet yearn for applauding

Zealous, zoic, zany and zestful
Zeus and the gods now forgotten are restful

Brevity

2011-06-27T18:12:00.000-07:00

Divinity on her face
Worn with experience
The meteoric scars on the moon

Are less distinguished to my eyes

Her fingers tempered grace
Play for the future
And to the past

Their toil felt in every pluck

In the moment she shines
Her heart clairvoyant to
The calls of the wind

That beckon to her every movement

She is both master and slave
To the moment
A muse and a god

Hovering above the crowd

Above the world
Spinning a web of connections
In her presence

There is fusion between soul and prison

Truth in the caves of uncertainty
A golden note played through the dark
And as slowly as the spark evolved it reclines

Leaving a taste of divinity in its wake

And still she sits there
Transported
Otherly

Bereft

No longer a goddess
Intangible
But a beautiful stranger

Exhausted
Spent
Held up

By the brevity of her guitar

Just some thoughts

2011-06-20T07:09:00.001-07:00

To be taken down a peg or two
Sometimes it's good for you
As long as you've got the pegs
And enough liquor in your barrel

No one can listen and speak concurrently
But that rarely stops people from trying
Or blurting out hurtful missiles
Followed by the band aid of "no offense"

Morality is human judgement
Individuals make better judges than posse's

Fists are blunt excuses for ignorance
The right words can break bones just as easily

The body is just a machine
A powerful one
But a machine all the same

If we all came from the stars
And are part of one collective consciousness
Why do so many feel disconnected
How come so many feel the need to hurt
Is this consciousness a masochist?

In an ideal world everyone would live for ever
Or die mid orgasm

On the radio

2011-06-15T18:27:00.001-07:00

She shakes like a withering bow
In the eye of a perfect storm
She knows how this will go down

He comes back to empty rooms
And paces the floor till it's grooved
He sinks between the cracks

And the song still plays
On the radio
Transmitted to the hearts
Of a thousand long forgotten ghosts

She cuts out the pictures of him
And throws them away with the wind
It stirs up feelings of relief

He drinks in the mornings now
His days are self medicated
Where have his dreams disappeared

And the song still plays
On the radio
Transmitted through the tears
To a thousand love torn ghosts

She can barely remember his face
And his smell it still rings in her nose
In the storm she feels something

He traces her eyes in the sand
Watches stonily as they wash away
If only the truth weren't so hard

And the song still plays
On the radio
Transmitted through the waves
That drift and sing of better days

In twain

2011-06-15T18:25:00.001-07:00

I believe I am split
In twain as some would say
Though they probably live in a history book
Or in the grains of a forgotten TV show

I'm the quark unmonitored
Rays and beams
Sun and moon
And other such contrasting imagery

Personality... what is that?
Can you control your thinking
Or does your thinking control you

Situations give rise to heros or villains
Or more regularly observers
And which... which character am I
Three roads, three prongs, three kings
The creator, the actor and the watcher

Though it's not so much villainous to act
It still smacks of falsity
To live by others standards and succomb
To what's expected is frankly weak and wasteful
How many clones does the world need to strangle itself with

I believe I am torn, ripped
Well.. unravelling (I have a penchant for the dramatic)
A thread loose in this cotton armour that's not really worth a damn in any how

A cartoon reality
A parody of civility
Am I so civilised?
Without my comforts?
With only the mechanics of my body to survive and flourish...
Most folks would think so
But most folks are liars

Yet I'm magnetised to their company
And them to mine
All dancing to different rhythms at the same time
I dance the limbo with a withering spine
And watch cautiously at those who tango

I make room for those that mean well
Well, that aren't mean at least
Those that share food and song
That can contain the inner beast
For there's beasts in us all
The leftovers of the reptillian brain
Those that climb the bodies of the fallen
And call it progress
Whilst trying to sell you insurance

Dead is dead my friend
Today is for the living
And afterlife or not right now I don't want the torment
Don't want to hear about blasphemy
Or prophets, or gospels
Have I heard the good word?
I wrote A good word, and spoke it aloud
That was enough for me...
And no one was harmed in the process

I talk about love from time to time
With people who lend it respect
Not about the need you see
Just the subject
What is love (baby don't hurt me)?
But really.. is it just another evolutional mechanism to help nurture and reproduce
To fulfill a biological need

Human babies are smart, but incredibly useless
They need constant help and guidance
In the animal kingdom left to their own devices they'd be gobbled up (or become tarzan) in an instant
Animals, without the capacity for overly complex thought don't need as much time to learn, so they develop quicker, become

independent early on
Where's the love there?

Or is love an energy, used to combat greed and hate... or fear
There's alot of that these days. Tons of it
You'd get high off it's fumes, but a dizzy anxious high that makes your stomach churn and yearn for the safety of a hug
But I digress from this messy stream of thought

In the back of your head
Spare a thought for the living
For they're in contant need of affection
These ghosts will rest for an evening

And let's live like it's not a sin
And love like it's not some stupid mistake
Too many choices we're offered are left breathless
Too many dreams are left unrealised.

A quiet year

2011-05-30T18:07:00.001-07:00

It's been a quiet year
Boot torn socks soles
A thing of the past

And there are rarely guests

Nightborn daydreams
Replacing old regimes
The sun become a memory

Never get to hear the birds anymore

It's been a year absent of action
Pen scribbles scorch pages
The mind gloops with each curve

And I dreamt about her yesterday

Promises made to shield
She makes me naked and surrounded
Her face launching a war inside

Whereas everyone else hears silence

Blood splat and shining in the coals of the gut
A distraction from whatever it is
That's considered real these days

And I miss her kiss, her sound, her face

Though I've sworn a thousand times
That done is done and past is past
She breaks me with a smile

And are they really her eyes, so wide and clear?

Her lips seem borrowed, stolen
From the faces of a thousand different women
Each beauty, and grace and steady hands

And I wonder if I ever knew her at all

Created in the broken down lab of memory
Frankensteins sweet but hurried monster
She's the haunting ghost that prickles skin

And tongue dry I use pen to shout my words

Though I fear she'll never hear them
With all the lightning inside her cranium
With all the bees in her ears

Though it's been a quiet year

The rapture

2011-05-21T07:03:00.001-07:00

You know, there are days I wish it were true
That the damned would up and rise
And wrap a rotten limb of sin
Around the wicked and unwise

That the world was just that simple
The contrast only black and white
Each soul upon a chessboard
Knowing their roles and who they fight

But here's the thing
The world is built on colours
Some hard to see, some hard to read
Some brighter than the others

Where is the darkness in a rainbow?
Or the evil in a season?
It's just people that see impurity
Sometimes without a reason

The most cunning and most scared
Send these messages of demise
Into the bossoms of the eagre
Who absorb their sultry lies

And pass judgement on their brethren
Placing limits on their sistren
Because they cannot read between the lines
Of a book based on opinion

It is a traffic light this book
It goes from green to gold to red
It's just a guide to keep from getting hurt
Or from hurting others instead

No the rapture will not come
At least not for those of us who live
Outside of a stoneage script
With the ability to forgive

And don't condemn
The ahimsa of our kin
Or berate them for their sexualities
And tell them it's a sin

Yes, there are days I wish it were true
That the damned would up and rise
And take the "true believers"
To their seperate paradise

Sueno en la Floresta

2011-05-01T14:36:00.001-07:00

The healer needs to be healed
by the hands of the unsullied

Enraptured by sounds that
slide like silk strands across

Broken skin

Releasing breath that seeps
light into marrow and inhales

The dark clouds that turn
bones brittle

In a song that serenades
and

Creates air under feet

Floating on the wisps of
Rhythm

Gleaming in the rays of love

Cradled under beams and
bows

Surrounded by vibrancy
colours made of mood

Like water that trickle down
the eyes

Cooling and refreshing

Cleansing, healing
to wake up

Dreaming in a forest

Innocence

2011-04-27T15:26:00.000-07:00

The magician waves his cloth
Coloured to capture eye
Without dye a cloth like any other
But here, in this room it is magical
It breathes

The audience bound by its spell
Enamoured by his craft
Become silent statues in awe
He lives for this and only this
The disbelief, the gaping jaw

His words, coated in flavours
Of ancient food that blinds
And in a flurry of swish and swagger
He creeps inside the mind
Vanishing doves, vanishing doubt

Voices boom and hands clatter
A miracle has transpired
Until a child points out the trick
And sees the let down in the eyes
And sees innocence subside
As the illusion melts and dies

Sounds

2011-04-18T13:52:00.000-07:00

There is power in sound
it moves
Plants feelers
antennae into skin

Transcends bone and gut
It bobs and sways
giving shape to emotion
Structure to tears
pattern to chaos

A bubbling laugh
sending cool sensations through welcoming windows
on summer days
The sharp sting of wind
screaming down narrow corridors, blades unsheathed

In the dead night raising hairs
and shadows
in the gloom of uncertain rooms
The hum of fridges, steady and immortally in the background
Its soothing sounds caressing and in tune

Lawnmowers and birds
Commanding the earth and the sky
Meeting on sonographs
Kissing waves curving and groping

And then there are the complexities
The amalgamated moods of combined mind creating beauty
that soaks through our radios and into our core
Vibrating pleasure receptors and linking the lost sheep back to the flock

It is a lover breathing hot on neck, kissing away ache and pain
The sounds of lips
liquid and tender
heavy with heart

We all emit our sounds
our vibrations
They are the part of us calling out in the dark, our chant, our mantra
simply whispering in the cacophony of noise
A beacon to lost ships
guiding each other bodily back home

A room like any other

2011-04-06T21:29:00.000-07:00

I have entered a room, a room that doesn't change. I have been here before and I will be here again. This room floats in the darkness of space and neverending time. I stand by the fireplace observing a figure on a couch. He wears my face and looks ill and afraid. All around him are people, dancing, talking and glowing. Bright and mesmerising. He does not glow. A girl with flashing hair, orange as evening sun hands him a cup of tea and he smiles awkwardly in appreciation. I walk to the door to leave this scene and passing through find myself in the same room. My body has changed. I inhabit the grizzled features of a man twice my age passed out in the corner, unable to move, sick to the stomach. I see younger people dancing too fast for the eye to capture, each blink a distortion in time. I need to leave this place. Addled mind and stultified by the dissorientation I sluggishly shift weight from spine to feet and trundle my way to the door, nearly bowling over a group of mischievous grinned faces each a colour too saturated for my constricted pupils. My former face still on couch with tea in hand being held motherly by the neon haired girl. Turning the handle I breathe in expectantly and once again find myself in this room. I should have figured this out by now. I leap from person to person, each new and unusual. Perspectives, colours, hues all differing and strange. But I find comfort in the chaos. I am 6 foot 4 with a shirt that should have died out years ago, my body feels sleek and strong. I wear my dark chest hair out for all the world to see, but they don't see me. I am 5 foot 2 in an uncomfortable pencil skirt and high heels. I keep spilling my drink in an attempt to solicit the attention of the blonde haired guy by the door. I am 5 foot 9, heavily built in a jumper my mother bought me for christmas, I don't know what I'm doing here and the sweet looking girl in the pencil skirt keeps avoiding my gaze. I change and change and change. Sometimes I jump back into bodies I've already been in. Each time becoming more familiar with their wants and desires. And their fears. So much fear. So many masks and shadows. I know now that the outside holds no quarter. Each body I inhabit carries different pains and joys. I keep repeating a cycle, jumping from door to door, moving but going nowhere. The more frantic the approach, the more dizzying the exchange. So I sit down beside my face and the teabringer. He seems less scared now, capable. And when I look him in the eye I feel a strangeness, a vibration that fills me up until I feel an energy pulsing in my chest. Magnetic. A force of repulsion and attraction. I am north and south. I yield to this sensation and let it take over. Closing my eyes in surrender I let go. I am released. I am me. I rise and stretch, the glowing dancers becoming more human, less angelic, less painted. I rise stiffly, uneasy, but I am me and I am at once thankful and cautious. Eyeing the ominous door and taking comfort in the cup of warm tea in my mits I walk assuredly to its skirting. And saying a prayer of want to who knows what under my breath I gingerly twist the handle and holding breath take one defeaning step.

Dancing around the sun

2011-04-02T13:44:00.000-07:00

I live under the gaze of a million burning suns
Who speak of planet dreams that are bled and confused
Filled with only others views, pernicious control
They say that it shrinks
They say that it thinks
They say that it sinks
But there's room for us all

To lay down
Under stars
Under blankets weaved of space
That can fold
That will hold
That should open your eyes
Skin will shed
Bones will dry
Time will carry you back home
I just hope that you dont find yourself alone

Our gentle simple souls they are children yet still
Told a weakness, a malaise that will see us come undone
Survival in the brain, but this home is secure
And the old leaves look
And the old leaves are stuck
And the old look to branches
That hold them no more

So we lay down under stars
Under blankets weaved of space
That will fold and that will hold
Our drifting thoughts in one place
Skin will shed bones will dry
Time will carry you back home
To this rock that dances deftly around the sun

The bones that hold our shape are as solid as the sea
They flutter awkward on the waves pushing you to me
As the moon it stirs awake fat and heavy with the strain
It brings the light out of me
Brings it out again
Brings the light out of me
Though I fear that it's in vein

I live under the gaze of the long departed
Who speak through burnt and waving bush with tongues laden with lead
The message crawls the skin, tinged only with regret
Their words are fully formed
They're barbed and they're torn
Their words are fully heard
But how quickly we forget

On this rock that dances deftly around the sun

Webs and endings and the inbetweens

2011-03-30T17:18:00.000-07:00

She had a spider
Deep inside her
It was her web provider

I feel entangled in webs sometimes, a fly who got too curious, or maybe too absentminded and distracted to see the imminent dangers ahead. Soaring into sticky strands of geometric beauty, mesmerised by the shapes and complexity of it all. And I'm lost in it, stuck, glued. I am glued. Because I don't quite get it. There's want and there's will, but the accumen, the ability to read the equation, to make it click baffles and sedates. A car, a rabbit, a dark night, some headlights. I'm not the car. But there is so much information to sift through these days, it's amazing, truly. Yet the paradox of choice freezes minds and intentions and becoming forgetful of the path I set out on end up in the maze of connections, hindered by a sense of misdirection and the thumping vibrations of minotaurs hooves. Another dead end. And the spider sensing his prey delicately saunters his way to devour confusion. And as flies or rabbits or whatever mixed metaphor I was looking for does I just await the inevitabe, to be eaten or splattered. Either or. The end doesn't really matter. But dammit, I'm not a helpless bug or a floppy eared buck in shock or out of luck. Destiny is not written in stone, or skin or blood as some folk would have you believe. Destiny is a phony word, it's empty and irresponsible. Giving credence to assumptions and convictions. There is no tomorrow. It hasn't happened so it does not exist. Now is the only relevent time. Projections, plans, futile. Without merit. Tomorrows expectations are todays promise, I heard that somewhere. I thought it lacked imagination. A self-fulfilling prophecy, blah blah blah... etcetera etcetera. No one has a clue really. Everyone feels fake, like they are pulling a fast one, like they don't deserve their position, their status. And it's through the blunders and the wings we hastily string together that we get closer to the sun. And yes, maybe we get a little too close and maybe it all goes wrong. All the flapping in the world won't make the damndest bit of difference. But wouldn't it be worth it? It's in risk that we live, that fills our lives with meaning. The risk of putting yourself out there, out of your comfort zone. Of doing something that you love when there's no guarantee of success. Of listening to the pounding pitter patter of your heart when all the electronic signals in your head seem to know better. The end is just the last page in the book, the last paragraph even.. sure you could go out with a bang, but what's a bang after so much silence?

And the cow jumped over the moon

2011-03-25T18:00:00.000-07:00

Speaking from the heart, the hilt. Speaking of filth. Flirting with disaster and thrills, skirting the edge of window sills and wailing at the moon. For kicks, because we no longer play with sticks, mock swords, riding broomhandle stallions, never bored. Now metal and sharp are the dangers and malice is seen in the eyes of strangers.. though these things like dragons to be slain in our youth are often imagined and aloof. Maybe an inner craving to be below the top of the food chain, to feel the fear and yet survive. But survival now a drive that's rarely used. Anyway, the heart, wasn't that where I started? Speaking through the conglomerate cells and bacteria that hold all this mass together I yearn for another bacteria filled body to hold and caress, to make sense of this mess, to wake up to, to share laughter and song. I'm saying this all wrong. I am a cow who needs grass, blades unlike swords to nourish and sustain the head and the heart. To chew the cud. I need a life made of art and beauty with flaws and cracks to study and worship. I need a love, raw and painful and so real that it peels back the armor that we shield ourselves with. And those blades, green and soothing need the warmth from the big flaming ball in the sky. I would make it rise and stay still, I would jump over the moon and chase away demon spoons and fiddling felines and empty head of all negativity (well most of it anyway) and thank the stars and the atoms for bringing her my way.

Space Turtle

2011-03-25T17:57:00.000-07:00

I pray to the cosmic space turtle, bringer of all creation and its abundant chaos! When he surrenders all of time and space as we know it will collapse into an intangable dust carrying with it the memories and moments of all of life including the stars, the oceans and the fleshies that bounce upon the blue, green and brown mottled marble that swings around the sun like a tennis ball awaiting the embrace of a giant racket. But not to worry, its shell is impenetrable and its course never waivers, but beware the nebulous space shark!

Paralysis

2011-03-25T17:55:00.001-07:00

I've got a long long way to go
Before I even begin
Got a journey far up ahead
Until I can see anything

And I know we're all the same
But no we're nothing alike
I know we're all the same
Know we're nothing alike

Paralysis by analysis

Got a million thoughts in my head
I've got nothing on my mind
Got a planet under my skin
Could I leave it all behind

And I know we're all the same
But no we're nothing alike
I know were all the same
Know we're nothing alike

Want to hold her closer still
Want to push her further away
Want to take what I can get
Want to give it all away

Paralysis by analysis

Felicity Fishnets

2011-03-25T17:42:00.001-07:00

Felicity Fishnets down in the doldroms
Rolling the rizzla changing the channels
Liquid for lunch again, caffeine to cope
Felicity Fishnets runs out of rope
Tied to her tv, delusioned by old dreams
With withering wings but a cleavage to cling to
Running in rings, stomach is stapled
Drinks like a drain, stuck and unstable

Felicity Fishnets bored and embarressed
By age and affliction her derma is damaged
Waits by the window, shielded by shadow
Afraid to affect, she's down and she's desperate
Sobbing in silence, she craves other creatures
To love and to listen she falsifies features
Laughs to be liked, does whats demanded
Felicity Fishnets brought up to be branded

The Ground

2011-03-21T17:03:00.000-07:00

Am I doing this right?
This whole living thing?
I'm a form of energy right?
Wrapped like casserole in a meaty exterior
It's my exoskeleton, my robot
It gets me from a to b
But is a where I want to be?
And is b what I want to see?
It's all so confusing
What if I just want to stand still?
(or more realistically just lay here)
Can I?
Do I have that right?
Could I just mimick the plants
And slightly wave at passersby
In tune with the breeze
An energy without skin
It roams unbound
And touches everything
Could I do that instead?
Be the wind?
And gently move
The unpollinated seeds of the world
To pastures new
It seems wasteful what I do
Storing moments
Compromising dreams
When I could just stand here
(again with the laying)
And achieve the same results
I think I'll be the ground
So I can hold everything up
A solid base
For the inclined
To achieve whatever it is that they do

Elevator Music

2011-02-28T04:06:00.000-08:00

The problem with mortality is that it feels like it's going to last forever, until it doesn't. The things you said you'd do, the places you'd go and the lovers you would love all disappear in a seeming instant. But their requiem was a long drawn out procession. The death knoll was low and intermittent, spaced out over decades, only you never stop to hear it because the brain as it tends to do plays its own elevator music to drown it out. And whilst in this elevator, rising and falling with your fellow travelers you find yourself at a discomfort, looking anywhere but each other. Embarressed to present your face to the world, incase it shows sign of disapproval. Like your efforts are in vein. Because that matters..
Distant pleasantries and shallow breaths followed by awkward silence, ergo the damned music. Feeling the weight of this compact metal box, the inertia crushing down on you, pinning you where you are. That weight was your time ticking down. Each number a floor that you skipped to rush to busy destinations, meet important people, finish others dreams while disregarding your own. And though constantly busy or distracted nothing really ever gets done. And the din of the passenger friendly music plays on through your day until your automatically humming a tune you never really had any desire for. In keeping with the status quo you don't question it, you get on with things, what's expected. In a world devoid of others what would a man or woman do with themselves, without the subtle non verbal signals to drive them from a to b. Maybe they'd give up, maybe not. Choices are nimble and quick and can escape grasp if pondered too long. And the ding of the next floor brings you back to that song that goes dum dee dum, badada, dum dee dum, badada. I think next time I'll take the stairs.

Trapped

2011-02-20T08:18:00.001-08:00

Filled with doubts, like sand overspilling on the landscape of my thoughts forming a dune of dark ruin and demise. Where they come from I do not know, they sift, shift and form, one deadly grain at a time and split the mind in two, maybe 3 maybe 4. There is no knowing, no certainty, no clarity. Even when the cleanliness of refreshing confidence ladles its way in like mountain fresh water the scene is still muddy and slowed down by friction. All roads blind, all choices ground down to a paste that confines me to small rooms. And it sounds like doom and gloom and self pity from afar. But it's funny, because I know better and pen my doubts to alleviate the weight of it all. But the grains still come and the thoughts still flow, just barely, but sure and steady. Trajectory unknown, but maybe that's for the best. Fate, security, the knowledge of future growth would only create more fear and ferral reflexes, more chaotic than the fear of the here and the now. And the words hum down through me like miners digging their way out of the flesh, each pick and shovel a prickling sensation that brings hope and sincerity and makes this room a little bigger, stretching my atmosphere above and beyond the physical realm and bringing me back to my senses. For it is in sensibility and sensitivity that the true heart of a human clone resides.

A horse called morality

2011-02-20T08:15:00.000-08:00

Morality a living breathing thing, a unicorn from days of old, changing, evolving until now we're left with a shabby horse in a paddock surrounded by gypsies, ill fed, gaunt, ready for the knackers to turn it to glue. Morality is a horse shoe, worn as a lucky pendant and shrouded in coincidence. He who wins spins the bottle of moral whimsy, so pucker up and kiss the pockmarked drooling face of your fate. Born into ever changing days where meat and martyrs share the same space and the tug and pull of the many outweigh the grace of the few. Sitting here in the pew awaiting divinity we are met with forked tongues and empty promise. And the smell of vomit from the drunken vagrant adjacent adds truth to the conceiling aroma of incense and shrivelled words. This is not an even and balanced world. It takes the puke and dribbles of a worn out stranger to put that into perspective. And through the layers of ill fitted clothing, torn and ragged shines a beacon of consequence. Morality is judgement, morality is not of the heart but of the head, morality is a stuck pig. Morality is dead..

The King is Dead

2011-02-14T17:18:00.000-08:00

And down they came, the tumbling bricks, hitting everything assunder, bouncing like fat bottomed lemmings to their demise. The empire was gone, in its death throes and the wheels and cogs grinded to a halt and everything stopped. The world hushed and pondered, and then seethed in the confusion. The assault had come from more than one source, a force of interested parties. Those cloak and dagger folks that live on the fringes creating demons out of lambs and castrating the independance of every woman and every man. Their robes tainted in blood, seeped, washed and worn again flowing freely as they gleefully play their games leaving empathy at the door. For what are they, those simians, but toys to play with, eager pawns in a fixed match. They believe themselves to be gods in a time of athiests, but harbingers of doom are they, dealers of death, plunderers of hope. And their fermented hate has ripened with age, the cork unscrewed, its odour pugnent and ready to taste.

Disconnection, that's how it always begins. Spies spreading rumours, spreading resentment and suspicion. They disconnect people from people, friends from friends, families and all. They erect a wall of doubt and pin them against each other. Shaking them like bees in jars. Instead of working in unison they spar and sting and die, and where the blood falls come the carrion to lap it up and lick it dry. It is a sickness, this disconnection. We've all felt it before, but there are levels, some harder to reach than others, but leap enough with the boost of false faith and you'll get there eventually. Until you distrust your mentors, preachers, leaders. Until you think they're all out to get you. And maybe they are. But if you then why not me and the rest of us. On a planet full of billions, people feel alone, cold and empty. When the warmth is there to be felt, to coax life back into the losing, to bring us back to health. What made us feel this way? What the hell are we that we would let it? But the search for truth should never be tinted by the hue of emotion for the answers you find may only be the ones you are looking for. The King is dead, long live the King.

Swan

2011-02-02T16:10:00.000-08:00

He who carries himself like a broken necked swan
Will be treated like an ugly duck for all his days
Limply swaying, pushed by the wind, by the flock
By the forces abound
He will die a follower
And never know the power that he held
Or the sickness that he spread instead
To keep pace in this shifting world
This extravagent ether
With all its ups and downs
Necessitates belief and strength
Composure, guile and cunning
The grace is implied but the will is gone
And the eyes run, scared of well, everything
Afraid to stretch wings
To feel air
To feel anything
To walk around like a broken necked swan
Is to be here and gone at the same time
With one foot always in the grave
And a slave to doubt and the illusion of better days
It is a travesty to see such an animal succomb
To natures selfish fancy
To nurture selfish ways

Against the clock

2011-02-02T16:09:00.000-08:00

The things that you see
The shadows that ring blue
Are not all that matters
They're not really you
Just possibilities
First sun, then flesh, then shade
You only become the shadow
When your light begins to fade
And the light is bliss and kindness
Some find them rare commodities
Others find it hard to breathe
Hid beneath the piling bodies
But that's dishonest, fugazi, a myth
It's a tale to tell the youth
"Why in my time things were harder"
But it's not if that's all you knew
Because we are men and women of our time
We know no other way
And the lies we compile and count out loud
And carry through the day
Are merely ropes to hold us down
To keep us steady on this rock
Instead of floating off to join the sun
Instead of this race against the clock

Battling the dead

2011-01-25T14:29:00.001-08:00

This surrogate mother
Nature reacts
Poison rain down
Heavy acidic reflux
This mountain of magma
Choke and confuse
Yesterdays stories
Tomorrows refuse

And the gone don't ever come back
But live on in our actions and thoughts
And their memories can't be broken
And their stories won't be bought

Compliant conditioned
Foraging fools
Scavenge for bargains
Amidst nomadic ruins
Primed and cocked
The shattering boom
Takes down the dove
And empties the room

And then in the gloom
The passenger waits
The witch on her broom
She cackles and shakes
Takes the hand of the fallen
The valkyries consume
And the battle rolls on
The circus resumes

And the gone don't ever come back
But live on in our actions and thoughts
And their memories can't be broken
And their stories won't be bought

They tackle their demons
Unleash the beast
Call on the father
His palms are all greased
Can't get a grip
The immortal excuse
Their servants are martyrs
For someone else's truth

And the gone don't ever come back
But live on in our actions and thoughts
And their memories can't be shaken
But their battles will be fought

The gone don't ever come back
And the battle will never be won

The reality of dreams

2010-12-31T08:56:00.000-08:00

A world, indifferent, desolate, empty. Or so it would seem. A dream perhaps, or a nightmare. Caught me off guard. Walking the trails set in land, following the grooves, well worn from earlier man. And here I am. Looking. Looking for. Looking forward, past the horizon, past the vast sea of sand where nothing grows, and find comfort in the caws of malicious crows. Life. Still existing. Though calous and cruel. Chaotic and fearless. The meek done fucked up. And I stop.

Hear a sound, smell a fragrance, an illusion. My mind plays tricks, songs, games in this miasmic nothing. There is no boredom. There is no time to be bored. There is no time, no clocks, no phones, computers, tv. There is only me.. and those crows. and the sticky, buzzy bugs that I step over and avoid.. oh and the sand... that finds comfort and shelter in between my toes and clings and cloys to all parts of my clothes. And so alone I travel and the roof of my mouth feels bumpy and sensitive, hot and unnatural. This is an unnatural place. We were an unnatural race. We bowed out with unnatural grace for our kind.

In the valley of the blind.... the one eyed.... and so forth. And what is life worth? What is the difference

between death and birth. What is the difference between the living and the dirt? Perspective, maybe. These are just minds games, tricks and songs that play along with my journey. And I see the past, all of it. I see the whole of it. It's never flattering. I never did anything. Did anybody? Anything real? And I hear a laugh from time gone, a girl I knew, nothing to me just a ghost of an acquantance. And smell her odour, sweet and clean, maybe she is the dream. Or is it I? I pinch my arm, bite the inside of my mouth. But nothing changes, only the spectre shudders and falters, and my mind prays at the alter of hope and torment.

And all my chickens come home to roost. And pay the price for the misendevours of my youth. Never learned to make, create, partake, learn or earn my place. And yet here I am, a million miles from humanity, where I thought I'd want to be. But I need them. I need to be clean and fully clothed and fed and sheltered and comforted by voices and touches and conversation about inane and insane things. If only I had wings I could fly with the crows and learn their cultures, and caw and bawl, and pick up the crawling insects and force them down my gullet. And if I could make or create I would build a bullet. And then maybe a gun. To control my own demise. I would aim for the eyes, so the crows dont pick them clean. Such an obsene thing. To pick the eyes. To eat the doorway to my soul. I was never young I was never old, I just was, and then, as with everything... wasn't.

All the luck

2010-12-05T16:41:00.000-08:00

And so they sat down at the side of the road

a little cold but numb and careless from the long island

ice teas. They laughed, or guffawed, did that awful sound of

drunken amusement over nothing and everything. It all wobbled.

Didn't feel the damp creep up their legs and into their skin,

didn't hear the car horns errupting around them, drivers spilling

out wave and wave of hostility, jealousy. And they held hands for

a moment, then fell away again sloppily, grasping air.

She laid on the ground and looked up at the swirling stars,

halo'd and blurry and making her head hurt with their confusing

alure. And she tasted sick in her mouth, but didn't dare tell him,

his sights a little south of hers as he struggled to gain balance

and make use of all those words he had spent gathering on cold

nights feeding off of the stories in other peoples heads.

But he felt a kind of misery, a dread that he would never be a

story, barely even a character. That he merely lent an arc to the

central figure,that she would remember him fondly in a chapter,

filler, fodder for a fuller stronger memory. A prince and his

princess dancing swiftly, gracefully under the glare of moon and

streetlamp. He saw himself as the tramp, that gave contrast to the

scene, on the fringes, a bad smell in a dream. And so they would

leave this place drunk, stumbling, hungry and maybe kiss or fondle

and sleep, and sleep as the dead, waking up hand on head,

pale as bone, translucent with eyes dying, bleeding, hurt and a

belly full of bile and dirt, ready to explode like magma from a

frothing volcano.

And they would go, shyly, quietly and never meet again. And his

face would drift away and be remembered differently every time

she thought of him. And hers would shimmer and contort as he tried

to think of a time when he was happy. And sighing down the road

of choices picked and plucked, they would think, seperately,

together, at the same time... some folks get all the luck.

The snake

2010-11-29T15:33:00.000-08:00

The fall of man was certain
Said the serpent to the frog
As he flicked his tongue in delight
His body curled around the log
On which he slithered and contracted
With hungry look upon his face
And the crickets played the melody
While the hippo played the bass
And all the animals around them
Joined this civil symphony
As the serpent told his story
Beneath the aging willow tree
Well his eyes they danced with purpose
Lit the closing sky with pleasure
The hyena stoned was cracking up
Said continue at your leisure
And so he did...
To the doe and all her kids
To the birds that perched above their heads
The canines drooping eyelids
To the quaking little fieldmice
And the sluggish ancient turtle
And with every word he fed them
He planted something fertile
And it took root
For they knew he spoke the truth
He spoke of the betrayal
He told them of the fruit
The trick
The plan
How he freed them of the man
Who named the world around them
So he could claim and own the land
And take from THEM!
His anger scared a little wren
Who lost her footing on her purchase
But then steadied up again
And listened up
She was afraid to interrupt
For the serpents eyes were bulging wide
She swore that they would pop!
But the serpent took a breath
And with words that stank like death
Told the tales of man his thirst for blood
As much as he could get
But could not satisfy
This craving that ingrained
Set the man forever killing
His actions unrestrained
Now the serpent settled down
His head it swayed around
And his voice became so soothing
They were all on common ground
And they began to dance a rythm
Until their tiredness took hold
And one by one they all succombed
To dreams of days of old
But did they wake?
Did they heck!
They found themselves paralysed
From hoof and claw to neck
The serpents tongue protruding
Licking the air above his head
His body somewhat bigger, longer
His dinner lay in dread
And felt the sun beat down on them
And bake them in their skin
And heard a final hissing
For the snake had won again

Sensory overload

2010-11-27T17:20:00.001-08:00

Her brain is populated by nomadic gnomes
That travel here and there
Never staying in any one place too long
She gets headaches that smell like lemons
Bitter, sharp with an aftertaste
They fill and flare her nostrils
Little lemon clots
Little lemon thoughts
Cramped, fighting for room
At the base of nerve endings
Sending signals, morse code
Receiving only static and white noise
So they send their message deeper
Little bottles in the water
Drifting on out to islands
To be picked up by nomads
Who cannot read the language
Who cannot decipher the code
And it's sensory overload
It's sensory overload

Words

2010-11-27T17:18:00.001-08:00

Words are wants
By products of desire
Power, magic, influence
Tongues drip with poison
Malice
Filtered by lips to sweeten their meaning
Their sound
Eminating at the base
Gut level
Wretching
Forced by bevels
Air expanding
It is energy in essence
Powered by nature
By the animals we inhabit
It is the souls journey
To consume consume consume
A word can change the atmosphere
The temperature of any room
Can stop time
Foster feeling and hope
Words are ropes
Binding true meaning
And conceiling roots
That should shoot into the earth
But point instead to the head
The brain, the heart
Of people in our midst
And what are people
But vessels for communication
Open scripts
Focused at one level
Scraping the ground
Waving wildly
Emmiting sound
In the hope of being noticed
Of being found
For the lost are merely
Living ghosts
In meat form
Strangers strangely strangling
Each others gaze into submission
Admitting nothing
But looking longingly
Momentarily
For a sign of recognition
And willing to devote
Whole existence
To a promise
Of acceptance
To a promise of condition

Precision

2010-11-27T17:16:00.001-08:00

Need to clear my head
stuck in this cycle
Of last minute decisions
Bright flashes
And dull thuds
Can feel the mud
Under my fingernails
Scrabbling through the words
To find a meaning
The correct meaning
Rather than a preconceived
Interpretation
A self serving representation
Of how i want to see it
Research, research, research
Happier to make up
To think it out in butterflies
And read the winds cries
And hear stories
Mythologies
Human strengths and weaknesses
And wait for little messages
From invisible mistresses
Over ethernetic airwaves
Electronic pulses
And file away tomorrow
Under chaos and wariness
And shape the landscape of my head
With buts and ifs and sorrys
And without blame
Take the weight
Of all those indecisions
Procrastinating creatively
With pride, taste and precision

Orbiting Planets

2010-11-27T17:15:00.001-08:00

There's a place there's a face
It's as old as the fact
That world will keep turning
When you've turned your back
On the things that you held
That you felt you could keep
But everything changes
It runs out of steam

And we're running on fumes
Living in dreams
Where no one gets hurt
Nothing's as it seems

There's a gap there's a hole
Something stole from your heart
You'd fit orbiting planets
Without breaking apart
And the lies only age
Your vision of time
As your body gets weak
And say everything's fine

But we're running on dreams
Living in fumes
Where no one knows how
This future will bloom

There's a bridge there's a fridge
And it's humming your name
Cries out from the darkness
The rules to this game
That you choose to let loose
And take over your day
Getting caught in the crosshairs
You lose when play

And we're running on fumes
Living dreamdays
Where no one grows old
And nothing decays

Natural reaction

2010-11-27T17:14:00.001-08:00

After the hurricane
The sky came crashing down
It waded at our ankles
And slithered out to sea
We picked up what we could carry
And kept as trophies
The bits of blue debris
Then looking up
Into the nothingness
Into the open
Hands on head
A natural reaction
As if it would ever rain
Again

And wept openly in the confusion
Couldn't even see the stars
And felt the gravity grow weaker
Sleaker, setting us apart
Into the atmosphere
Into the cosmos
To travel the universe
Only to find ourselves at the start
Of our journey
The heart of it all

The storm twists and shreds
Errupting the quaking dread
Taking back the things you said
About the living and the dead
Burning holes, cracking thoughts
Even those you had forgot
Trapped on cobwebs, the gods
Naked empire turns to sod
And behind the golden veil
Of ideals wrote down in brail
Set in stone, set to sail
Leaves the listener impailed
Against their mirrored vapid form
Where fitting in has been the norm
And find it hard to be, perform
Against the backdrop of the storm

But we will prevail...

Old

2010-11-27T17:11:00.001-08:00

I draw BREATH and see HALOS stroking the AIR
I count BACKWARDS pull down PLANETS and form OPINIONS
My heart DRAWN to the ORDINARY feels like JELLY
Growing in CLUMPS around my KNEES buckled by COLD
Takes much PATIENCE to empty LEANINGS left and RIGHT
Stuck in CENTRE for target PRACTICE we're getting OLD

Fire

2010-11-27T17:10:00.001-08:00

There are fires.
Fires in people.
Some burn loud and bright.
Crackle and delight.
Light up the darkness.
Sparks and flames.
For a while.
They feel good.
But burn and scar.
Like their ancestors.
The stars.
The world around them.
They are passion.
They are fury.
They are love.
And life.
Fires warm the heart.
The skin.
Fire comes from within.
Some fires are controlled.
Flicker, breathe.
Last.
Some fires go way back.
Stretch time.
Fast.
They feed and sustain.
Fuel and drain.
The world around them.
They brighten the day.
And are noticed.
But are taken for granted.
Their roots deeply planted.
Fires consume the dead.
And sometimes the living.
All fires take.
None are forgiving.

Bad Moods

2010-11-27T17:08:00.001-08:00

Bad moods are contagious
They trick the mind
Blur the truth
Muddy the line
Of reason and restraint
Get caught on barbed wire
That circles the exits
To sensibility
And build a bloody empire
Of scared and lost souls
Bad moods are nimble
Bad moods are cold
If ghosts could talk
Maybe mumble or wail
They'd set the fleshies pale
Still and sombre
Give us something to remember
A word to stop time
A time to reflect
A time for the beast
To release intellect
Bad moods are wolves
Hidden amongst sheep
Waiting to feast
Ready to leap
And fill its furry belly
Gorge on the weak
Bad moods are worms
Bad moods are creeps
That prick and pry through skin
Through waves and waves of walls
That crash inside the cavity
Of forgotten memories halls
And lick the wounds
And slick the floors
Bad moods ooze
Then slither out the pores
And play the part of mirror
Of judge and jury blind
Reflecting darkly blister
All the light inside the mind
Bad moods
Bad moods
Rewind?

Responsiblility

2010-11-03T13:22:00.001-07:00

You are responsible for what goes in
And what comes out
You are responsible for your dirty interpretation
You are responsible for the lessons you refuse to learn
And the mistakes that you teach others
You are responsible for your boredom
For the excitement that you crave
You are responsible for the love you have
Or the hate you hold instead
You are responsible for your outlook
You are responsible for your dread
You are responsible for all the great
Things that have ever happened to you
And the shitty moments too
You are the only person responsible for you

Each day is the last

2010-11-03T13:12:00.001-07:00

We are just a mote
In the eye of the universe
Caught up in only human problems
We are so absurd
When life is abundant
There is so much more
So much more to think about
We police our own existence
But we project our own
Petty interests, desires
And insecurities on everyone we meet
And greet with expectation
And passing disappointment
Waiting for a higher power
To open up our eyes
Our perspectives diminished
Lowered to the common denomonator
With love taken out of context
And illustrated only as lust
And it is this
And it is this
That seperates us from
The beautiful abyss
We live to die
And experience our past
Over and over again
Each day is the last
Each day is the last
Each day is the last

Dream on

2010-11-03T13:10:00.001-07:00

We are the dream of the infinite dead
Forever growing
With every passing soul a new one is imagined
Thought up
Dragged kicking
Into existence
Our lives are balanced
On the slumber of the fallen
Every star
Every atom
Every touch
And every smell
The synchronised fable
Of sunken ancestors
They think
Therefore I am
Should they ever wake
All of life could cease to exist
This is the great chaos
The great frustration
Of the great sleep

Nothing remains the same

2010-10-24T15:41:00.000-07:00

I walk around, travel, work, exercise, play
With headphones on
Listening to varying moods and songs
My amulet
Warding off evil spirits
The vibrations
Keeping me safe
Moving me bodily through vortexes
Past demons
Invisible to evil spirits
Wearing the voices of my musical guides
And seeing through the eyes of those
More in touch with their realities
And those that ride the waves of chaos
And sink into the pits of despair
But the net is always there
To pull away and settle in
To my own skin
But I never come away clean
Unscathed
The amulets leave little scars
Rivulets of thought and patterns
Splashing inside of my head
Until I become more or less in tune
With the living and the dead
And walk through other worlds
Other portals other plains
With the power of vibrations
With the power of change
And embrace the new
Relinquishing the old
Although not always happily
But as I keep learning everyday
Nothing remains the same
Nothing remains the same
Even the same song played twice
Means something different the second time
And the spirits abide
And heal and protect
But some are for tormenting
And some are there to wreck
And ruin all they touch
Placing all your hope in others
Is asking to be rushed
To truly grow you have to
Take the highs with the lows
And all that jazz

Intermissions

2010-10-24T15:38:00.003-07:00

Try to condense whole meanings into
Snippets
Time saving
Saving time
It is in danger
As time is never safe
Fully chaotic
A still moment
Of every moment
Shows an imbalance
A hectic 3d hologram
Of all living things
Existing as one
At one time
Every space occupied by generations
By interspecies
By volumes of rock, water, dust
Space, void
A polaroid of existence
All colours
All noises
All
How would one even begin to describe
Would it blacken or whiten the senses
Its complexity too incoherent for beings like us
And I think of a trumpet pushing air
Out of its stem
Air sucked in by its harbinger
the process so fluid
So simple, so clear
Clean and beautiful
Feeling the pressure of sound
Against the drum of the ear
Knowing it works
By owning the senses
Makes it easy to incorporate
Easy to swallow
Maybe everything is so simple
But seems complex to beings
That can't see the nose
In front of their faces
And the sounds of the universe
Baffle and confuse
For we hear patterns
Feel cues
Valleys and peaks
Crescendos and intermissions
We make of it
What we will
And we always will
Until we join the universe
In its song of
Infinite existence
A howl of pure exuberance

Expectations

2010-10-24T15:36:00.001-07:00

This is a place based on expectation
Everyone lives to perform
To mask their emotions
Entertainers, teachers, parents
This is a bubble of beings
Bottling all their bodily feelings
This is like dreaming
Only so very sculpted
Structured and strained
And it could have been magical
Its mysteries stripped
Skipped and sawed in half
This is a society of simian simon says
Self congratulating and berating
What else could one expect?

Cosmos

2010-10-24T15:35:00.001-07:00

Moving in the shadows of a burnt out star
Spinning on the axis of fate
Gravity free me
Just for awhile
To explore the cosmos
And see the truth
Beyond the human truths
That stick and cling
To the senses and mock
The potential that slivers
Vacantly through our lifetimes
Cloying and wheezing
As we entertain flawed relationships
That only burn
And confuse
And amuse the spirits
That still hang around
Like flies on shit
Seeing a hundredfold
What passes us by
Each and everyday.

Simple simians

2010-10-24T15:33:00.000-07:00

There are people in the brown mottled mud
Wrestling the earth
Ripping up the grass
And the forests
Preserving a stone and metal heritage
Built on ideals and grand notions
Fighting each and every beast
That man has ever imagined
Plotting the end of times
And never knowing
What it is to live
Fighting over the scraps
Of yesterdays dinner
And picking away
At the remnants of the done and gone
They bicker like monkeys
Throwing their feaces out of earshot
Out of eyesight
Out of range of habitat and home
Refusing to see their own reflection
And reject the notion of change
Static in their skin
In their hearts
And in their minds
Could a god have created a monster
So blind?
In his image?
My arse!

Track titles for the albino peacocks of wrath

2010-10-01T15:56:00.000-07:00

1. This is taking forever
2. Steve's not happy
3. Give up Sunday

1. Rogue rum
2. Too many books not enough memories
3. Forced miracle

1. A horse walks into a bar
2. Rotting ham (in a bucket of bleach)
3. We are everything

1. Fear of clowns and their sisters
2. Figuratively speaking
3. What rhymes with orange?

Stalemate (a negative view on an otherwise pleasant day)

2010-10-01T15:47:00.000-07:00

There are many sides
Many squares, territories
Agressors, appeasers
Resources, values, beliefs
There are commanders, presidents
Chiefs, military, peasants, police
There are families, lovers
The searching and the found
There are bodies holding up the ground
And metal bones sticking through
Sucking air as they do
Gleaming in the vibrant sun
When clouds have parted
And rain has done
Its job and fills the rivers
That contain the dwellers
Of our origins
The monkeys of the sea
Wwim out into the ocean
Far from the lands of lunacy
And pirates and the lawless
Take and take and take
Are they any different
From the lawyers and the snakes
With their own harpoons of words
Taking down the whale of peace
With their nets of loopholes
And their bible held for all to see
But its easy to condemn
Easy to critisise, to preach a love
Of truth in a system built of lies
when you do nothing to prevent
The heartache and torment
Just sit upon a pedestal
And let the hate ferment
It's circular and simple
Spreading from one vessel to the next
The most loving of us all can easily
Be vexed by raging bulls
By uncaring expanding blobs
Who place value on their time
As they go rushing to their jobs
Just to get another day done
And look forward to the next
Even though it is the same
Leaving the aliens perplexed
As they look down upon this globe
This sphere of blue beauty
And wonder why the monkeys
Are so full of vanity
And full of anger
Throwing their faeces against the wall
Of each others home
Crying out a mating call
Attracting negativity
Performing acts of depravity
And then grieving in their silence
Guilt triggered by their humanity
And it all becomes a blur
It all becomes a slur
As they drink poison to forget
And plug needles into their fur
And forget about the world
And all the problems that it faces
Better to be high, better to be wasted
Because the stalemate still exists
Maybe forces will grow or decline
On one side or the other
But the approach remains the same
And we all place blame
But who honestly throws their hands up
And says fuck it, it was me
My bad
Look what i did
And I would have gotten away with it too
If it wasn't for those pesky kids
But there is no mystery van
No cartoon morality
There are people who will fight
But no one cares, or no one sees
Too busy having fun
Distracted by the scenes
The shiny whiny whirry things
That pop off on bigger screens
Whether a brave new world
Or 1984
Somewhere in between
We can see now whats in store
I guess we've already failed
If it even were a test
Roger waters said it best
They amused themselves to death

Remove the head

2010-10-01T15:44:00.000-07:00

The only option is to remove the head
The only option is to remove the head
The only option when your lover is dead
Is to bury the hatchet
The night of the living dead

You see some movies think you know how it goes
Watch tv shows live tv woes
Prepared for nothing but the static remains
Of everyday of everynight of your life

You see tomorrow like you saw yesterday
Carry the cross like you can feel its pain
Until the demons come screaming your name
They don't want to talk, they just want to eat your brains

The only option is to remove the head
The only option is to remove the head
The only option when your lover is dead
Is to bury the hatchet
The night of the living dead

My friends

2010-10-01T15:40:00.000-07:00

The day can change so quickly
One voice can make such a difference
To your own frame of reference
My friends make me human
Give me human feelings
Human origins and motives
Without them I'm a lost vessel
A trapped rig out at sea
Dodging the waves
When I should be taking them on
Directly
The safe voyage
Yields the dullest story
My friends make me brave
Little mouse taking on the lion
Backed by the hearts of others
I would die for them
And so much more
For death is just one door
I would shove aside my pride
So much harder to do
And stand in humiliation
For these people
For they are gods in my mind
They are intrigueing and decent
And rare as natures purple
As two headed serpents
As happy families
And though I don't always hold them close to me
They are my circle
And give me strength
When I feel like a line
Tapering off to nowhere
They are the infinite that breeds
More thoughts and ideas
Without them clouds are just clouds
Instead of giant faces
In mock disgust
Or flowers sending their seeds down
To fertilise the land
With tiny but numerous glands
To walk through the rain soaked
Would be a horrible thing
If not for the destination
The destination people
Each one a home
They take me in and offer me food
And conversation, warmth and safety
From the otherwise bitter outside
They make the sun shine
They make the plants grow
My friends are all I know
They make me human
They make it so

Known

2010-10-01T15:35:00.000-07:00

It's soothing to have your own noise
Covering up the bangs and crashes of others
Even your own bangs hold comfort
And your crashes are settling
As they are expected
They are known

City of hearts

2010-10-01T15:33:00.000-07:00

I had a hole in my heart the size of cities
I had pain in my brain
I was love
I was love sick
I was sick of love
The physician said he couldn't help me
He could only fix the body
Not the mind
Not mine
Interested in the diamonds not the mine
Social beings, frail and fickle
It's what we are
Reliant on the connections we build
Can make you feel
Really feel so bad
So terribly wrong
You consider unthinkable things
You think of endings
Of surrender
Of nothing
And chew down pills
To chase away the gaps
And fill them with echoes
Dull thuds to pass the time
Now time has passed
And wounds have healed
We move on
And people change
But it's still a fight
A battle that no one will admit to
To see the light in things
People suffer alone
In the privacy of their own homes
And some dont get better
And are told that it's all in their head
But if it exists in the head
Then it's as real as the skin on my bones
As the bones in my body
As the blood that sluices around
Making it all woozy
Making it all viable
Making it all so real
Love is hard
And pathetic
And demanding
It feeds on everything
You can offer
But its fruit is sweet
And satisfying
Tender and filling
It is worth the torment
And the gut wrench
And it's easier now
To laugh
To remember the fool
And feel pity
And distance
But there's a city
Lost in the ether
Populated by the broken
Hearts
And dreams
Of trapped
And fractured souls

Artex

2010-10-01T15:30:00.000-07:00

My depressed horse
Sleeps in a swamp of sadness
He wont come out today
He's stuck in a rut
Stuck by his foot
Trapped by his gut
By the jaws of misery
So overcome
By waves and waves of sorrow
As tears go streaming down his face
And he will never leave this place

Ark

2010-10-01T15:29:00.000-07:00

Green white and gold
Nature spirit wealth
The spectres faded ghosts
Drink to the fleshies health
The doctor reads a pulse
His fingers vast vocabulary
Sense a rythm that is weak
Slipped into a reverie
Aboard a pulsating brain
That stretches out to infinity
Every atom is the same
Everybody a subsidiary
Forget the rotting body
Forget the coloured words
Exist in only sound
And waves that twist and curve
And all the plants and animals
Will sing in harmony
With the mountains and the valleys
A vibrant society
A cocophany a swell
A heaven beyond hell
A bucket full of souls
Scooped out of the well
Of time and space
A system set in place
To drain the culture of corruption
And to leave without a trace
Green white and gold
Nature spirit wealth
The love of flags is dead and gone
As all divisions melt
Into one
And pour into the many
Hearts and parts
We thought were lost
The time is now
We're ready
To begin upon a journey
That starts with a reflection
With honesty, brutality
A cleansing introspection
And soar beyond the maze
That we all were born into
And light the dark
And raise the ark
And leave here two by two

And then there was light

2010-09-27T13:59:00.000-07:00

One day the world was without god
Everyone knew
Nobody cried
A thought had disappeared
Worn out
Died
There were no killing sprees
No violence
Or orgies
At least not in his name
Everything was much the same
And then there was light

Mechanised love

2010-09-16T19:39:00.000-07:00

Whir, buzz and ztt ztt
The sounds of mechanised love
Tenderness
Travelling through coils
And circuitry
Enhanced by beeps and flashes
Passion in binary
Simple and refined
More sanitary
Than the fluid
Slurps burps and bubbleslaps
Of the fleshy
Squidgy kind
Where waste and
Leftover drool
Pool around the floor
Staining the atmosphere
And causing muscle strain
And heartpain
Leaving frail fragile frames sore
Digital desire
The new empire
Of honest feeling
And respect
Pause, rewind, fast forward
insert, eject, eject
A love uncurtailed
Unveiled and direct
A series of complex pitches
To serenade the intellect
Sending coded messages
Pulses of information
Instantaneously
A kiss
A touch
A smile
A nod
Whir, buzz, ztt ztt

Who

2010-09-05T13:12:00.000-07:00

We sit behind clandestine walls
Connecting rooms
Closed doors
So close and yet seperated by very
Solid things
We can even hear each other
Our sounds travel
Through the cement
The brick
The barriers
Leaving their machines behind
Living private lives
Staking our claim
Our space
Our place in the world
Mine
Mine
Mine
And then run to the beehive
For our share of the honey
While cogs turn
Revolving, evolving
Solving the riddle of the sphinx
And still that same question
Reverberates through the corridors of the mind
Who am I?

The fly

2010-09-03T08:39:00.000-07:00

There was a fly on the hospital floor
In the waiting room
It couldn't fly anymore
Its identity stolen
Looking like an ant with decorative wings
It was a pityful thing to see
No accident
No emergency
Just misfortune in a place of misfortunate things
A verb without reason to be

Stop

2010-09-02T09:15:00.000-07:00

Stop for a moment
Stop and take in
The world
Stop reflecting
Stop looking forward
Just for now
And you'll see that you live
In the void of forever
This minute this second is living and breathing and real
In this glimmer of naked and openly hostile domain
We can tame the beast for at least a moment
In that moment we win
In a land full of losers the sea looks to be our own haven
All of life lives below
Above they see angels and demons
But we're just land living shells
Some cracked
Some broken
Waiting for the moments that come
And then go with the wind
Stop for a second
Stop what you're doing
And breathe in
Stop what you're feeling
Stop ...

Worms

2010-09-02T09:13:00.000-07:00

I saw two birds once fighting over a meal of worms
After rainfall
The soil muddy, damp and slithery.
Their black beaks were like swords
Curved to hurt
Dancing off each other
You could see fervour, malice in their eyes
But there was no grace in this dance
As the wild flapping of wings and the jutting attacks from their necks to their heads
Pierced flesh and tore feathers
The rearing up
The throatscreams of hunger and fury intensified the struggle
But dominance came and to the victor the spoils
The loser sloped off, shame in his every movement
With a lame leg, bloodied eye and a tattered wing
And the worms just wriggled in the mud

Immortality

2010-09-01T15:38:00.000-07:00

The search for immortality

Started in the ocean

Where seeds were planted

Long ago

So lips could kiss forever

Stuck like barnacles to a ship

And follow the currents

Wherever they go

Man in black

2010-09-01T15:35:00.001-07:00

The words he spoke carried truth
Even when they were lies
And the love he harvested
Came to fruit
Even past his life
And carried on into others
Who could appreciate his kind
He saw the burning bush
He read the fiery signs
Found solace in simplicity
Always in his prime
He sought to banish snakes
Though they cling upon the vines
And fill the grapes of wrath
Turning some men blind
In time they'll hear his voice
In the legacy he left behind
And feel kinship in his conviction
From the man who walked the line

Out of favour

2010-09-01T15:24:00.000-07:00

The king calls his jester

To perform

With pointing and laughter

For his pleasure

Humility and talent

Combined

And drawn across his spine

Carrying the weight

Of his masters good humour

And vulgar displeasure

Measured in grunts and teeth

And ferocity

He serves to please

In times of war

He appeals to his humanity

At the cost of dignity

When this fails he turns to his vanity

For every leader can be coerced by mirrors

And when ignored

Prays to his sanity

Though conceiled it may be

Juggling with politics

Behind a shroud of servitude

Appears inept and confused

And at odds with the world

He inhabits

But to fall out of favour

With your master

Your maker

Can topple armies

And cost lives

For madmen are balanced

By their servants and wives

But always expecting half

Truths and knives

From the very walls

And slicing the bonds

Of kindness

Creates a mad new world

For jesters to perform in

The farm

2010-09-01T04:29:00.000-07:00

Its funny
There are farms
Where animals live
Domesticated
Fed
Groomed
And slaughtered
We eat them
They sustain us
Us omnivores
And their death
Is accepted
Expected
Needed
Honourable in our eyes
They feed a race
Of hyper intelligent
Beings
Their death
Does not surprise us
It is their life
Or lifestyles
That bother us
How they are treated
Nurtured
Cared for
We focus on
The build up
Not the end
For their end
Is our middle
Is it the same
For people?
Papers tell stories
Of tragedy
Of endings
And only in exceptional cases
Focus on middles and beginnings
Not everyone is cared for
Not everyone cares
There are more words spoken
In truth
And with passion
In our demise
It's like there's a glory to it
Even though it's not a choice
No escape route
It is inevitable
Foreseen
But the middle
Is where the waters get muddy
Maybe it's too confusing
To wrap a head around
Death is easier
Finate

Waves of dread

2010-08-31T01:27:00.000-07:00

Imagination so compelling
In the box the lobe is swelling
Never wanting, never telling
All the world's a game of chance

Communism an ideal
It doesn't work in the for real
The aging actress' sex appeal
Is dwindling with experience

I tell a lie, I tell 2 more
Now my lies add up to 4
I feed the rich and rob the poor
And put it down to ignorance

Heard you on a sonograph
Where 2 waves never cross their paths
Did I ever make you laugh
Was there ever any chance

The mirrored images alarm
The amputee who lost his arm
Until he can release the harm
That keeps him locked up in his head

See her dancing on her own
Afraid to stop, she wont go home
The barbs around her heart have grown
The music comes in waves of dread

And everything has been said
Everything has been said
Everything has been said

Walk in circles

2010-08-31T01:24:00.000-07:00

I dream with ghosts
I wake up sore
I walk in circles
I talk in circles

I don't respond
I just react
I walk in circles
I twist and talk in circles

Forget menots
As if I could
I walk in circles
I talk in circles

Don't want to fade
Away to dust
I walk in circles
I twist and hop in circles

We're all shifting thoughts
Personalities
Where I'm you and you are wearing me
All shifting thoughts
Priorities
I'll treat you right if you let me be

I dream with ghosts
I wake up sore
I walk in circles
I tick and tock in circles

Such things

2010-08-31T01:21:00.000-07:00

Such things take time
To learn to love everything
To live without fear
To live up to your ideals

But no one says how much

Such things take time
To find the piece thats missing
To realise your dreams
To earn your respect

But no one says how much

Such things take time
To heal deep wounds
To forgive old enemies
To remember who you really are

But no one says how much

Kicking and wailing

2010-08-31T01:18:00.000-07:00

I was dead or am dead or am about to be

Much in the same way as the lives I lead

And have yet to lead

Will and have happened a billion times and counting

Following a path dug out for me and all my energy

To flow long and sure backwards and forwards

Existing always infinite love

First I was pulled then I was pulling

Now I am the landscape where mortal hearts

Place their secrets

Where dreams are harvested into musical sculptures

And felt by all in the nonwaking world

To be dragged kicking and wailing

A choked voice born again

Dead again

In limbo

Lost within the confines

Of its own all encompassing mind

Oldboy

2010-08-31T01:14:00.000-07:00

You look for revenge

When we're just recycling dust

Unwilling to bend

So you do what you must

But you don't see where you are

On the roads that you survey

And the world stands apart

Disconnected by fate

In the back of your head

Lies the seeds to your hate

A growing desire

A reason to wake

Try to redeem your sins

While only building more

On an infinite path

Twisting blindly to war

So you look to revenge

When we're just recycling dust

Eyes glued to the end

And you dont' know who to trust

But you dont know who you are

In the stars that you survey

So you look for revenge

But all you find is pain

You look for revenge

Your a moth searching for flames

It'll eat you right up

Leaving only charred remains

No perfect song

2010-08-31T01:13:00.001-07:00

If I were to write the perfect song
It would be about nothing at all
It would contain no music or lyrics
There would only be an immense feeling
When people heard it they would weep and cry
Uncontrollably until laughter and mirth crept
Out of the silence
Lovers would love
Warriors would battle
Poets would paint a thousand pictures
We would all travel to different worlds
Of unparalled beauty and mystique
For no time and all time
We would mingle as a consciousness
Sharing our fears and hopes
And return forever changed and connected
My song would send shivers down the most
Heartless spine
Move mountains and settle storms
Silence, contained and controlled
Mishaped and transformed
Until the user becomes the used

I used to...

2010-08-31T01:09:00.000-07:00

I used to think alot of things
I used to wish I was a bird
Flying on the wind
Singing a song of joy
I used to think I was the world
That I had created everything
I used to think I was a delusion
A dream thought up as a boy
I used to think I was a rerun
Someone that had come before
I used to think I was brand new
A spark in the furore
I used to think I was a toy
Used and discarded in time
I used to think alot of things
I used to idealise crime
But everybody turns coat when
The reality touches home
I used to be suppressed by fear
I'd feel it on my own
I'd wear a smile from ear to ear
To placate the monsters in my brain
I used to be afraid
Of heights and wasps and pain
I used to fear alot of things
I used to cry when I was hurt
I used to lie to sound impressive
I used to roll around in the dirt
I swang from tree to tree
I used to twitch uncontrollably
I used to be obsessive
I used to be I used to be
Repeating every little word
Until it made no sense
I used to listen to music
Every muscle spasmed, tensed
So I could feel every vibration
Soaking up through my inner core
I used wish for lots of things
And then I'd wish for more
I used to love a girl
With all my heart and soul
I believed we'd be together
Eternal in the fold
Of time and space
I used to feel out of place
I used to rob the liquor
From my parents hiding place
I used to do alot of things
Most I don't do anymore
I used to be immortal
Impervious to horror
I used to be in everything
Every atom in the sky
I used to have a purpose
I used to hate goodbyes
I used to be a fool
Then wise then fool again
I used to care about nothing
And as I look back at me then
I see something other now
In the mirror in my bathroom
I see choices broken down
I see me inside a vaccum
And in the future when I look
Into that mirror for a shave
I'll see moments lost
Moments won
Decisions that were made
And I'll think about it all
Of all the things I used to do
And wonder if theres other me's
Thinking about this too?

Spaceship in my head

2010-08-28T19:49:00.000-07:00

Theres a spaceship in my head

And its pulling all my strings

A little green man inside

Experiencing all these little things

Wish that I could see what he sees

Wish that I could fly away

Hopping star to star

In a race against time

To distant galaxies

To the infinite and unknown

Just to drop back home

Once in a while

For the company

And the tea

Safety

2010-08-28T19:48:00.000-07:00

Memories the bond

That glue us together

Crash upon the rocks

On waves that disappear

So many names for many things

But you wont know what they mean

You wont know what it means

You don't know what it means

Faceless spectres enter dreams

A violated bubble

Missing puzzle pieces

Sinking in quicksand

So many names for many things

But you wont know what it means

Safety in knowing

Safety in numbers

Or be

2010-08-28T19:46:00.000-07:00

Passive objectors of king and country
Get up only to postpone the inevitable
And bitch and moan of the impending tide
The virus
That will wipe away the old
And bring in the new
Like technology
Obsolete through time
Chuckling at its awkwardness
But remembered fondly
And all our childhoods
Will take precedance
Over our adult selves
Knowing that we have
Placed ourselves in a network
Of commerce that we can't escape
Or be like insects
Little more than sensing the whole
And performing in unison
For a goal
That never seems clear
We feed the greater good
A beast we created
A god in a time of atheists

Movies

2010-08-28T19:45:00.000-07:00

In the future everyone is a movie
Floating spectres, corporeal stars
Music plays when they enter rooms
Their atmospheres collide and combine
And tolerate each others genre
Different lenses, different hues
The romantics mix with the blues
The silent movies, wall flowers
Make clumsy gestures
And humourous observation...
Often to themselves
The family movie moves further away
Lest it be stained
Making room for the action packed trilogy
Talking so loudly but saying very little
Thrillers and horror wait outside the doors
Their suspenseful gaze quickening heartbeats
And everybody is a star
Played through the combined minds
The hive of human creation
A depository
For the human condition

Holes

2010-08-28T19:44:00.000-07:00

So many holes
In one and out the other
Holes in the skin
Holes to breathe

So many flaws
Only shared between two lovers
Flaws of the heart
Flawed chemistry

We can go it alone
But it takes forever

We're so fucking frail
Flesh and bone our coat of armour
But the attack comes
From within

Living in holes
Holes built from brick and mortar
Pockets of time
Spent wondering

We can go it alone
But it takes forever

An abundance of time
I would share it with you

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fnaoz3q19g

Some people

2010-08-28T19:43:00.000-07:00

Fire
Flight
Now we've discovered life
Power
Might
We created wrong or right

Belief
Choice
We speak out with our own voice
Love
Spite
In dreams we live another life

But some people can never be happy

We are gods in a time of aethiests
We are animals on a ball of dust
We are angels in a fiery inferno
We are lovers in these days of war
We are star powered carbon based robots
Tapped into the consciousness of the universe
We are star powered carbon based independent robots
Tapped into the consciousness of the universe

Sound
Sight
To see us through the night
Bodies
Souls
Symbiotic future ghosts

But some people will never be happy

Flute

2010-08-28T19:42:00.000-07:00

I felt the rays look fondly down
I stretched to feel their embrace
I felt the wind carress me
Secure me in my place
Breathe into me
Fill me
Until I grew and grew
I felt the earth below me
It was aware of what I knew
My limbs and skin thick and sturdy
Protecting me from you
As you carved a heart
Into my belly
My blood seeped out like glue
And trapped a lovelorn bug
Torn and scared and lost
Stuck in time forever
My blood comes at a cost
And in time I felt the nails
Pinning brothers to my spine
So you could climb upon me
And tie ropes around my arms
And swing upon a tyre
Rubbing raw my aching limbs
Until a part of me was broken
And I cried out for it to end
My plea
My prayer
I sensed a buzzing in the air
And tensed up in apprehension
As flashing teeth began to tear
Cut me deep until I fell
And my body came undone
And all I saw was black
Where I should have seen the sun
And my bones became the carriages
And the tables in mens homes
Who sing their songs of pain
Carressing wind within my bones

Dumbstruck

2010-08-28T19:40:00.000-07:00

Organs twisting, blistered whistling
Corner turning, throat is burning
Cannot speak my legs are weak
Shutting off, power down
Getting closer to the ground
Bad trip, bad slip
Melting brain begins to drip
Reality begins to rip
Lose the plot, lose my grip
Free falling in the abyss
Where everything is nothing
And nothing is everything
Trapped, stuck, glued, tied
Dumbstruck, I'm out of luck
My goose is really plucked
Yes im well and truly fucked

Don't let go of me now
When I'm lost and losing it
Give me something to hold on
So i can run from this

Burnt out star

2010-08-28T19:39:00.000-07:00

Shouting disease and sickness
Addicts, self inflicted
With every stale breath
Getting closer to death
Some people just like the idea of it

Party all night and play all day
That's how it works in your head anyway
But the price placed upon it
Is too much to pay

Burnt out star

The threads that are broken
Can never be glued
Climbing the backs of a renegade troup
You'd think on your feet if
your brain wasnt soup

Burnt out star

Feeling estranged
You don't know your part
The lions persistence
Has won him a heart
Now he lurks in the night
Hunting prey in the dark

Burnt out star

Do you remember
When it used to be fun
Now you just mumble
That everythings done
Have you sunken so far
That you can't see the sun

Burnt out star

A to B

2010-08-28T19:38:00.000-07:00

A persons perspective is unique
How they view the whole
The expanse
The universe
Our realities are nursed
We are infants until death
Fulfilling lifes promise
By being
Healing the rips in time
With our actions
Movements
Experiences
Walking through a fog
A heavy breathing mist
Trying to get from A toB

Always is

2010-08-18T12:24:00.000-07:00

The days are warm and full of noises
Sounds that change and merge
Creating life within their wake
The sounds that people make
Banging, drumming, clanging, talking
And seagulls preaching overhead
The insects keep their hum to the barest minimum
Lest they be disturbed and plucked
Removed from their homes, eaten or destroyed
And sucked back into the void
Of consciousness and redeployed
To await their magmanimous return
The only way that we can learn
But thats how it always been
It's how it's always been for everything

Caring to our detriment
We compensate and reinvent
The suns fiery rays
Create the gods for holidays
Armed with just intelligence we soon discover recompence
And hop less steady down our paths
Stepping quickly as we pass
Then greet, admit defeat
As sheepishly our eyes do meet
Under a setting sun
We sink into these simpletons
For messes wretches are we all
When deep under the sharp enthrall
Of heady sick romance
Play natures bitch we do the dance so well...

Intuition

2010-02-25T02:23:00.000-08:00

We have our institutions
Our intuition
A belly full of feed
Our construction plants
Our smokeless fuel
Our dwindling seed
We live in the melting pot

There are many cooks
Many looks, many moulds
And folds to this paper plane
And if you strain your eyes
Hard enough
You can see the beginning
And maybe the end

If you're lucky
You'll make a friend
Compose them yourself
Out of everyday objects
Leftovers and dry skin
And is it a sin
To love other worlds
Other times
Other illusions
If we harmonise our goals
We could scrape the souls
Of absolution
And harness the energy
Of the stars

And sit back with a
Glass of milk
While our bovine mothers
Chew the cud
Interspersed with bowel movements
And moments of silence
And violence, violence, violins
Play like cats
Hunting for prey
Murder in their eyes
We try to make the wild docile
But nature is as nature does

And comfort and serenity
Are abstract notions
Choking the air from our lungs
Mustard gas in its subtlest form
Braincells melting in the fuzz

But there is love
There is that
And it could be the love
Of one or many
There is no choice here
It just is
And justice is owned by the strong
And dressed up in rags
To imitate the weak
Wolf, wolf, wolf
The boy crys
Third time this week

But the villagers are tired
Of this young liar
And the herd dies
And the herd dies
And the herd dies

Haiku monday

2010-01-25T21:04:00.000-08:00

Music comes from heart
Heart grows cold with confusion
The naked song stings

With precise motion
Men in tanks take lives away
No mistakes are made

Drank so much i spew
Drink run river through my room
Here drunken haiku

And it will take time
Time we never stop to feel
Before the wounds heal

more is less

2010-01-25T21:03:00.000-08:00

Before
I knew
I had solid ideas
I walked a steady path
Everything was sussed
Clear and clarvoiyant
The more i gleam to understand
The more notes and arrangements
That fill my mind
The less I can concretely convey
And find the meaning of words
Crumble in value
Each and every day

A work in progress

2010-01-25T21:02:00.000-08:00

I'm a clone of a clone
I evolved from a y chromosone
I'm a work in progress

I live to serve
I don't get much
Just what I deserve
I'm a peoples project

But I feel
Like the lights coming out of my veins
And my soul
Shields my twisted body

I'm not prone to complain
At least not out loud
It keeps in my brain
I'm a secret chamber

Not above or below
I reside
Middle of the road
I've a million faces

But i feel
Like the lights coming out of my veins
But my soul
Is a shield for my twisted body

Worth it

2010-01-25T21:00:00.000-08:00

We were astronauts
Full of lunar dreams
Till we blew her up
Looking for gold dust
To fill our coffers
And we breathe it in
Until our lungs are full
We are not to blame
We are worth alot

We were scientists
Searching for a cure
For a leperous brain
But the poison spread
And so does the pain
Now we just sell drugs
We can afford to be smug
We are prosperous
We are worth alot

This look of confusion

2010-01-25T20:55:00.000-08:00

The wrinkled brow counts out loud
The many years of missaprehension
Of wisdom sought and lost
Of falsities turned true
In the absurd glow of morning
Sweatclad, white lighting crosses the bow
And the fool steps overboard
With predator and prey alike
Taking in the watery atmosphere
That chirps and gurgles in bubbles of time
And bids night fairwell
To slumber as kings of old

And in a dream where noise and vision
Fought for prominance
There they were, dancing to the orchestra
The yellow sounds bringing childish awe and abandon
Waving through the crowd
A friend from days gone by
The fresh smell of memories
That we choose to remember
Dismissing the powerful stench
Of growing up

A look of confusion, a slip, a falter
Where everything that was and would be
Lived in the present
Time did not stop
Space did not move
It was there for all to see
The orchestra lost in their own making
Sat silently awaiting instruction
From a composer who followed the music
Into realms they could not go

Blinking rain

2010-01-25T20:52:00.000-08:00

The rain danced on the static pavement
Unheeded by the heavy footed pedestrians
As waves crashed and sunk leaves like boats
Caught in the worst of storms
And as the people shuffled
To their shelters
Leaving empty the grey corridors
That were claimed and won
Twinkling stars took over that puddle
A blinking cosmos
Of infinite depth
Existing in only that shower

The river

2010-01-03T11:43:00.000-08:00

I am stunted
I cant develop
My mind is slow now
Wish i could sell it
The sky is gold out
The light refracting
I stay inside to keep
From interacting

With the cold cold wind
That is blowing
Sending shivers down my spine

I lack ambition
I have no status
I have no mission
Incur no pathos
Wrap myself in values
Which are worth nothing
Search through my pockets
Just fluff and buttons

He is a poser
But he's athletic
He calls her sugar
She's diabetic
They are but strangers
In crowded places
I can't distinguish
Between their faces

And that cold cold wind
Is always blowing
Sending shivers down my spine
It's a cold cold day
It's always snowing
Flowing rivers intertwine

Feel disconnected
This glass is empty
Where is the waiter
He doesn't see me
In the distance
Music is playing
It doesn't move me
But i am swaying

Against the cold cold wind
Thats always blowing
Sending shivers through my mind
And that cold cold day
It's always snowing
The rivers frozen
The rivers frozen
It keeps repeating
The rivers frozen

Patterns in the sky/Butterfly graveyard

2010-01-03T11:41:00.000-08:00

All the leaves have fallen down
The naked tree it bares the scars of time and resistence
As we loop around each other
Patterns emerge from the clutter of our existence

All the butterflies have gone
Now their colours drip and melt into the frozen night
And as we melt into each other
I can feel the darkness shudder, the final cry

We are made of debris
Of cosmic infinity
We are born to see
Patterns in the sky

All beliefs and thought are dead
Time has stopped and consciousness exists only as one
We are legion we are many
We are beauty we are ready to move on

We are made of debris
Of cosmic infinity
We are born to see
Patterns in the sky

Are we just patterns?

2009-08-20T08:44:00.000-07:00

Sometimes reality dislocates itself from my way of thinking
Like an old injury come back to haunt
Where only I and the space I inhabit exist
Sometimes I lose my humanity
Its always in the last place you look
And it's easy to get lost in a book
To observe life through others eyes and ears
To share consequence and feelings
To know the world outside of your head

If anything, it's the company you keep
That makes up your world
That says it all about you
So if you've got no one around
Does that automatically mean you have nothing to say
And if you've got nothing to say
Does that mean that you've got nothing to contribute
Who exactly gets to decide?
Are we just patterns?
Connections? Dots?
Ants with independence but all working for the same goal
Is that a good thing or bad, does it matter?
The world is so maleable with so many living creatures
Energy flows from us all
It does not ask permission
Are we just pawns?
Is there someone in control
In the know?
Or just headless chickens
Assuming the caretakers role?

These thoughts swivel and turn
And burn like words jumping through hoops of flame
Dismantling ideas
Making sense and nonsense out of everything
Are we just patterns or random strangers?

Liar

2009-06-02T04:32:00.001-07:00

He smiles when he lies
It's the first sign of treacherury
A smile
And in the yellowing glare of his pearls of wisdom
Lay the blackened opened graves
Where the souls of misguided choices lay to rest
Where the memories of youth fade into antiquity
Where not even the worms dare make a sound