Tag Archives: Life

Twenties Bridge

Fur leaf clones left well alone
Dry guts and deep cuts
Slumber days and far fetched nights
Ultimate frights
Sex on concrete steps
Hard won love, laid to rest
Red lights and monkey bones
Gun-toting hippie homes
Near death walks in desert
Performance pressure
Talk talk talk
Walk walk walk
Animal print balaclavas
Protective Havaianas
Smoke to pin-point shame
Yesterday’s questions – no brain
Dance naked despite gravity
Love with levity
Last task
Eat your liquid breakfast
Through a tube
Scratch the bruise.

My Heart, A Nest and A Raven

There’s a nest which sits well above my heart.
I’d like to say it was the home of a wren
But it belongs to a raven.
It is clever, heavy, wicked and wise
And it sees you.
My raven collects things,
Tiny metallic objects
Which nestle in the twigs above my heart.
I’d like to say they shimmer and shine,
But they cut
They bruise
Forcing me to grow scar tissue in places
I never thought I would.
My raven tells me things,
Whisperings in its croaking voice
Chants like those from outside of sound.
I’d like to say it is made of music,
But they are maniacal and truthful,
All the things that make me breed
Just a little more madness
Just a little more hate.
There’s a nest above my heart
And it presses like a coldness,
Pushes like a heaving force,
And lands me in a world of trouble.

Still Like Statues

There are holes all through my lungs.
I smoked until my chest caved in and my heart halted still like a black rock.
There are clumps of mistakes in my arteries;
Giant warnings for blood to go no further lest we breach the weir beyond.
I lived until I couldn’t any longer, there wasn’t much left of me.
I was tired.
I was breathing too many times in a minute and my hands were always full.
I’d scream at the sky every time it rose,
Like I was pleading for a better run at the tides.
“Wash me away, take me to the next shore, clean my mind and slough my skin”
I’d cry these things and fall asleep deep within the arms of a busy night
Only to wake with the same mislaid problems

Typical Trip

“Hey Buddy,” A voice swam at me
From beyond my carousel.
“Where you at?” It asked
In sounds akin to cadence,
Taking on the swimming beats
Surrounding us.
The hopping part of my forebrain
Kept steady jolting rhythm
While another part behind it
Considered the question.
Fighting through the heavy
Rainbow fog
It gave me a response,
Any response.
“Mellow as fuck man,”
I growled
“Mellow. As. Fuck.”

Insides Outsides, Outsides New

The day is dark
The dark is night
Without my fists
I have no fight

Without my fists
I use my vowels
In my shakes
Are blackened bowels

Hell and fortune
Came to me
The day you left
So I was free

But freedom
Was a hefty price
The burn was wide
The smell was nice

But nothing lives
On platitudes
Those guns are high
Their bullets new

You kill the horse
And run the world
Find the circus
Get the girl

While I die
A boring fate
Gone too long
Left too late

Many Hues

Magenta quality descriptions
And your pen scratching
Words in turquoise script

Sienna falling rain
And your breath waving
Across the page in ochre.

Vermilion tilted hat
And your sliver smile
Branching out over pearl teeth

Caramel soft skin
And your eyes alighted
With azurite sparks

Kaleidoscopic emotions
In your little pile of lies
Daydreaming with the angels and your onyx demons

Little Big Love

You’ve got a hole through your heart
I have a get away car
You’ve got a smile that could break walls
I have a bulletproof mouth
Let’s run rings around the criminals
And steal all of their money
(Those who beat us down)
Because if it’s not me and you
Then we are better off bleeding
Into a river
Feeding the earth.
I’d rather help
Than hinder
And I’d rather help you,
C’mon my little bandit
Let’s run.

One Little Woman

Pretty little thing
With your heavy rings
Of all the boys
That came before
Funny little wonder
With your eyes going under
And a handbag filled
With a chemists store
Sunny little smile
With hearts long mile
Doting on the lonely
And empty evermore
Black little princess
Many years a mistress
Forty years now
Of feeling too raw

I’ll Be Better Soon

Stained, stone roses
And messy feathers

I haven’t been present


Let me try again

Where’s your hat gone?
The tall, black one.
What about that girl you were seeing?
She had lovely hair
Like silver
Pluck it and run it and sew it
Silver thread on thistle down
Weaving it back together
Pinky fingers
High tea
And rabbit ears
With lucky feet

I am sorry
I should be better

Sometime next Thursday

Bring your silver hat
And the black girl