Lost souls everywhere,
Hollow with sadness.
And empty.
Sentimental filler-cheer,
The working of
the next best thing.
Grinning, singing,
Trying to fill the void within.
As the chipping slices,
Wincing bones,
Over nice,
And all alone,
Takes away the rancour there,
Taking it away, somewhere.
As psychopaths run everywhere,
And form the base of everything,
The lizards design their offering,
And spit into our eyes.
The New Year comes with nothing new,
Songs and thoughts of nothing true,
Nothing, nought, for me and you,
But everything, for them.
You decide where commas go,
Personalise your greatest show,
Coming with the one you like,
The one you think will give you life.
So finally, the wheels turn on,
Our breathing going on and on,
Until it doesn't,
Then it's gone,
And we no longer care,
As we go yonder, in the air,
Just gone, to wander.
Gone. Somewhere.
Here I dwell
Tracksuit-wearing underclasses
Sweet, young smell
Twenty-some, tight-taut asses
No idea of the coming turmoil
The deep, dark holes,
Full of worms and gritty, black soil,
Where you try too hard
And you're left with nothing.
Seize the day,
You were fucking right
Gather ye rosebuds,
Before the night.
My whole life
of times gone by
a wife, a home
and reasons
All fancies of that season
just for now
then flittered away
and frittered away
or, so they say.
The healing of the words
identification seeks
as oil applied with aloe
consolation, as it speaks
false histories that we know
engineering the absurd
authenticating all meaning
as we grasp at truths unheard
the searching of our heart
the hole within the soul
separates each part
and leads towards the goal
He's like the backbone,
the big shoulders of the tribe,
fighting just to stay alive,
As the uncut pups, all comfortable,
don't even look at him
or where he's been
Or the trouble, set to come,
With a blessed certainty
of the never-lost
the ones who don't know
until we're gone.
Neither should they know.
Mature the mind of the mindless work
Stalking senses lift the veil
Failing falling forces plain
Palest graspings in travail
Sting the coldest atmospheres
With the poison of the good
Making matching all that's right
Scattering. Scattering.
Words of worth meandering
Harmonies in conflict clean
Steaming strains arrayed uncut
Floating in unspotted skies.
As the commas splutter stall
Taller standing stand aside
riding as emotions fall
gliding further far away
Then the times return and end
Friendless inexplicable
Perplexing rights' obituaries
Stealing stabbing many foes
That feeling that you're feeling now
The wow of soft disfigurement
Pleasing pulling turns away
Slashing by predicament.
The broken soul,
With its void of meaning,
Twisted sayings,
All shattered, bare,
With nothing left,
But endless care,
Unable, to mend its past.
As the heart beats out,
With the pain of regret,
As the passed days' memories,
Tumble back into focus,
Taunting reformed, & heady ideals,
Stealing away, all vigour of intention,
That promised new hope,
To an old, laughing clock.
Gone are the days,
Ne'er, to return,
As the ashes of youth,
Bear the slenderest proof,
Of a truth, that is carried,
Away, in the wind,
To a place, known by noone,
And, where noone, has been.
We will all be remembered, by those who knew us,
In this dry, and fallow land, where we, the used,
Become abused, until, we no longer, allow it.
Until we lift, our eyes to see,
The beauty, that stares, at you, and me,
Taking, our cares, and all that bears,
Down on us, from those,
Whom always will, if we let them.
But pushing-back, against the pushers,
With brutal force, that rests, within,
As violence courses, back again,
To rain down terr0r, in defence,
On those, who menace, weaker ones,
We smash their teeth, with hardened bones,
Until they flinch, with silent groans.
Because, we can NEVER cease to be,
While we exist, in minds,
That free, the ones,
Who cannot, free themselves,
From self-imposed, and living hells.
Given conditions, taken-in,
Lived, maligned, and self-devoured,
Tricked, and wasted, subdued powers.
Sitting there, in hearts, alone,
Alone-accepting, ne'er expecting,
Freedom's cry, to come, so soon.
Partition your patience,
The world, lingers on,
In guises of friendship,
Swirling mists of dark song,
From fog's farest side,
Where the reptiles, come from,
With flowing, and groaning,
And ancientest tongue,
That hisses, from lips,
That you thought, were lifelong,
Disrespect, circumspect,
Swelling chorus, so high,
That your heart, starts to freeze,
As you realise, you've died,
The cold, cruel breeze,
Steals, the last warming pulse,
As the play, of the fray,
Flies away, til it's gone.
Joyous in the in-crowd,
Staring at the losers,
Making sure, eyes never meet.
Casting tribute, at the feet,
Of people, who will never know.
Nor indeed, can ever know,
The substance stored, behind the show,
As lookers, looking on,
Hoping that, as deals are done,
There's something left, for me.
I'm special, can't they see?
In the darkness,
I have found,
All the planets,
Spinning round,
Moving, circling,
The abyss,
Coldness, wonder,
Think of this.
Thinking, only of the sun,
Fun, delight, awe of splendour,
Take me to these arms, so tender,
And the sweetness, of the kiss,
Help me, just, to think of this.
The moving, yearning,
Of my soul,
The goal, it ponders,
Yonder, old.
You may not need me,
Now, at all.
As power, leaves me,
Cold and torn,
And dull, and lifeless,
There, I've gone,
To warmth, and brightness,
Lasting long,
And there's no judgement, after all,
The tall and mighty, always fall,
Slight & penniless, I die,
Someone, somewhere,
Hidden cries,
But, to me, so long, and gone,
So long, now gone.
So long. I'm gone.
The flow that came
As I free my brain
From the slashing hurt of others.
As I share my pain
For today, again,
And I give it, to my brothers.
Noone will ever know,
Beyond, the outward show,
What it takes, to live, and be me,
But I won't, take your yoke,
Or the judgement of folk,
Regardless of who they might be.
My dear friends,
Do we know, we've lived?
As the worms, tear through,
Our lifeless skin,
And souls & goals,
All wear, quite thin,
With tales of old,
That weave & spin,
A life that might intend to dream,
The light that's bright, yet seldom seen,
Until the night, comes dark and cold,
And we embark on journeys, old.
The seen, a scene, one ending, thus,
Obscene and melancholy,
Eventually, dust.
The stained, stainless-steel,
Its iron guts, hanging out,
Helps me feel,
What this world's all about.
If it's all bright and shiny,
Then, why then, just deny me?
Then the curling flames begin,
And takes it, all away.
They say, those great philosophers,
That life, is said and done,
That it's lived, just while it lasted,
Done, before it's begun.
But I do beg to differ,
As I look into the sun,
The stiffer, now, the live-er,
The thicker, fables spun.
Until we pull the trigger,
And we may, now, end the fun,
And now, for all you stayers,
Just stare into this gun.
It's one of your own making,
So don't forget to blink,
As while you were just faking,
We, took us, to the brink.
And now, we're moving onward,
To a hellish, evil stink,
But don't let this alarm you,
In fact, don't even think.
My goal, is to disarm you,
As you fall into my snare,
The baiting with what's not true,
Shouldn't even make you care.
But One remains,
Again, remains,
And ever, never changes,
In all your pain,
That stays the same,
And never rearranges.
So onward, go, beyond your sight,
Push on, against the ages,
The source, we're from,
We gaze upon,
Within these, great many, stages.
And life endures,
Beyond all wars,
We fight, and die, in phases,
And though men cry,
And wonder, why,
We all, assume, our places.
Happiness, is in the everyday,
I don't care, what people say:
Kid's cartoons, and coffee spoons,
Ribs n things, and chicken wings,
Smells and sounds, of senses deep,
Crab fishing, on the stoney beach,
Sliding into perfect sleep.
The things that we all have today,
The smiles, the whiles, and donuts, sweet,
Make us stay, not run away,
The laughter, at the corny joke,
The Friday nights,
The wholesome smoke,
The pizza time,
The perfect rhyme,
Remind us, these are better times.
Beautiful iron, standing straight,
Built around, old heaven's gait,
Gated walls, tremendous, true,
Stated flaws, remain in view.
We are what this world's about,
As others talk, just lashing out,
Ignore the bore, the hustler's tout,
The pouting whore, the nagging doubt,
And rise, and rise, above the dirt,
Decide, to guide, the better work.
Spawned in a house,
Where the structure prevails,
As the sails of the boat,
Catch the gusts of betrayal,
Seeking the exercise,
Of hearts born true,
Sized, and besmudged,
Both for me, and for you,
As we call, and we wail,
In the dark, unlit night,
Fail, in our own right,
Then, we turn to the the light.
Often the time,
That I feel most alone,
Surrounded by "mine"
Yet, here, on my own.
They don't understand you,
And don't really know,
You give, from your best,
Yet, they nod, and they go,
And you're left, all alone,
With what's left of your life,
The one that you wanted,
The home, and the wife,
With mem'ries that haunt-you,
Regrets, and the shame,
Resolving, the next time,
Not to do this, again.
So much power,
The nimrodism,
The sense of knowing all,
Yet being unable, to coordinate.
When one line, won't couple, with the other,
Where son clings longingly,
To the known, and never, moving on.
When deep knowing, can only suffer,
As desperate hearts, need reinforcement,
Only knowing, that letting go, is the only way, to gain control,
Of one's own soul, and all the pounding,
Stating, now, it stops.
