Saturday, May 17, 2008

In a dream a boy can grow
To be an honest man
A path of life strongly lived
To become the best he can

He may seize the gloating wind
Wrap fearless to his chest
Steady in resolve and heart
Would pass this bitter test

Word and deed would lend him thus
Roam there where others run
Held in warmth and softness, yet
Loved as a wayward son

If nothing else have the dream
Let touch you when it can
Taste just what you might have been
Were you a better man?


Friday, April 18, 2008


Plant the false line,
Tempt, beguile, flatter and lure,
Sparkling Siren
A titbit dancing,
Fallow lie.

Vicious aching.
Promise ripped in briny gyre.
Taught on hot rock,
Drying, dying,
Wondering why



Sunday, March 30, 2008


The wind battered his face, slapping him like a scolding lover and pulling his cheeks like a playful child.
His clothes clattered and flapped, pressing themselves hard against him, holding him in a tight, insistent embrace. Breaths came in struggling bursts, as his speed plucked each one away, leaving just enough, barely enough.

He neither minded nor noticed.

He felt the sheer pleasure and exhilaration of the fall.

Marvelled through squeezed eyes, at the misty curvature of the Earth. The clean blueness, the horizon. The wide spread of the land below him, which for the moment, appeared to be captured, still, a photograph.
The world was such a beautiful place from here. For a few short moments, he forgot the ugly, escalating canker of the towns and cities. The greed and hate, squalor and deprivation. There was no global warming, no dying planet; there were no extinct or ruined animals. This was the world as it was meant to be.
This was God’s vision.

For the moment he was a bird, an eagle, a being of light and lightness. He was a swimmer in the divine. He was flying with God and he was bursting with the joy of it.

Soon, he felt the disappointing ground rushing to him, as if on a mad lift. It grew, while the horizon shrank and soon he felt like a mere man. The divine far behind, life and mortality poking at his consciousness.
His arms spread apart, like an aerial crucifixion, as he accelerated towards the ground, vomited from the morning sky.

Suddenly, the desert below became real. Definition grew and he could see the terrain clearly as it shot towards him with a terrifying impetus. He could smell the humanness of “civilisation”. The factories and machines, as they farted out their foulness into the planets once perfect perfume.
He recoiled involuntarily as his senses sucked in the putrid taste of human detritus.

Why had God allowed this?

As his descent seemed gathered speed, he felt his motion, saw the sand and broken trees race towards him. Just a few hundred feet.

His sorrow almost stopped him from saving himself. Almost.

He didn’t want to be another sin on God’s growing list.

At the very last moment, he pulled up. Swooped high into the air, briefly away from the decay and misery. Arms stretched at his side, like a stunt flyer. Scaring a crowd of expectant watchers, giving them a sliver of hope that they would see the awful crash and death. A wish too horrible for most of them to admit. But it was there in the deepest corners of their corrupted souls.

He landed gently on the branch of a dried, dying tree. Gnarled and beaten from sucking up too much of the world’s verminous poison. It had lived for over fifty years at the edge of what had once been an exuberant oasis. Now just another foul stench. The tree had suffered its’ decline with humility and born the pain of mans’ advances.

Stroking the brown leafless branch. He whispered “Soon,….”
The angel kissed the tree gently, fed his love through its’ sickened sap, felt it shiver in recognition.

They sat together to await God’s work.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

This Night

You sat and
held yourself

For who else
is there to

Your soul your
heart, your mind
are raped

Too battered,
broken, sad,
to grieve.

The cursing
wind, scarred, maimed,
tore you

A storm that
threatened yet,
not raged

Condensed you,
a lesser

Truly this
night, you were
your age.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

21 Words

We fight
We fuck
Leer and Love
Kill and consume
Dramatic bravery and kindness
Ill will and blindness
The human perfume

Tuesday, December 05, 2006


The day seems lost,
The night awake and long,
The kettle takes too long to boil,
My socks and pants feel wrong,
The wind blows rain in my face,
My car won't start, then I miss the train.
The shaver cuts, cologne just stings,
Cats mess on the carpet,
Shoes don't fit,
I hate my job,
And people are rude,
Or caustically try to kill my mood,
Sales dry up,
Bloody computer crashes,
Kids leave a mess,
My mum's a pain,
Toothache rages, arthritis pesters,
I hear of murder and child molesters,
The world's insane,
People fighting,
Wars and famine,
Selfishness and shame,
The end is nigh!

But then again,
Whenever these things get to me,
It's you that makes me want to live again..



Sunday, October 22, 2006

The Weresnot

the wizened, weaseled, wasted mind
stood alone in distance from it's kind
the reek, the stench of leprous intent
the gurgling place where thoughts ferment
the pseudo mind with pompous breath
all arrogance and stolen wealth
puffing code the thoughts are tame
and hide behind a veil of shame
the moon it rose in its minds eye
prompted it to leave its sty
the pseudo soul stole others glory
intruded in anothers' story
malice drowned the human sun
spoiled a game and called it fun
the pith that lies within that breast
will always falter at true test
to have a thought to call its own
truly inspired by itself alone
is a feat beyond the empty pot
of the red eyed, raving weresnot


Beat the drums, sound the rhythm then
Don't expect to raise the fusty minds of men
The hoarsest shout be lifted and harnessed still
Sweet fortunes notes arrest the bitter pill
The fawning cavalcade invokes it's fallow wit
Bringing down the grinding, mindless bit
That choked the life of every soul that strayed
Into the crusted chasm, that held it's foul decay
Hopeful laughter lasts only 'til the falling moon
Stabbed on the silence that filters in the gloom
Forced to hide among clinging shadows' light
Trembled in it's bile filled coil of spite
Fanciful yet mindful of the wretched watcher's eye
Began the dance, unmasked the wicked, swollen spy
Hammered the beat to curb the cussed, feared despite
Shivered as the day became the night
Whirled and wheeled on threatened, tarnished field
Took the blood, to stave the horrors of its' yield
Held no delight in the frantic swash and sway-
Yet drank the life, to keep the craven beasts at bay
At last when quenched, frenetic dancers done
Then left there, strewn, unfocused, awaiting sun
Implore the spirits that fed and curdled fears
To rest this night, the mortals lying here