and the new sporadic Moon

On Sporadic free mind nights, I glean hope
and listful wish for merriment and the melting innovative
wash
of inevitable crisis overcome
by intelligent design fantastical
and moral awakened ’man of the dirt

On erratic scream in the coming dark days I curse
evolution
creating this beast
and what sociopathic greed malevolent stare into extinction and laugh
with bursting paper green eyes
and wish it never envisaged

On habitual sunken eyes of the afternoon rise
I sit idly slouching by
and watch madness curtail madness uncoil
within our blackened hearts
and frostbitten toes of the retreating soul
and stupefy the mind
with unfathomable awe at my impossible present... Being

And the New Moon sets the eternal cycle in motion once more

Silence

Sometimes when it's under cover quiet
in the lonesome peaceful night
when the newest scam's done shouting at our eyes and fried egg brains
and the beast's stopped propagating poisoned air
and the vans and yellow coats and blackened teeth are gone for now
For now
we can hear our own voices
maybe silent almost imperceptible
screaming and writhing to be free or fight or cry
from constant noise and daily trauma and why is everything dying or dead or outrageously preposterous rich
in the daylight safe sunlight
where compassion supposedly prospered

Defense Rations

I'm addicted
                                                  to doing nothing
or flushing my life away into the plastic ocean                   to swim with cigarette ends
                                                                                                                                         and endless bottle caps
and a corked archipelago
stained the colour of ethanol blood
                                                                                  all the while telling myself                     that it'll work out
living your dreams in your imagination               
                                                                                                                                is ok
when it's as vivid as mine
                                                                                                                                                             or yours.

                                                                                   I once read
that Einstein worked 4 hours                                                                                            a day
                                                      and he was a frizzy geinus
        so why shouldn't that be true
of me                                                                                                                                                     or you
           i ask myself
                                                                                    though i know i know sure, i know
it's all conciliatory lies
                                           comforting shameful delusionary conciliatory lies
                                                                                                                                and yet it still remains
the rational defense of a lazy beanpole
                                                                 trapped for a quarter century
                                                                                                 in what if's and drowning imaginary possibilities
and christ       
                               what if you actually make it?

Queen Bee

Sometimes I sit and drink a gallon of wine
to see the blackout glorious forgetting stench
of a night lost to the ether
beautiful sorrow sinking sinking sinking sinking is that a working well
are you sure we'll float
crying nonetheless
buoyant steady recreation
we'll wake up tomorrow
maybe more fulfilled or maybe horribly worse
but does it matter
the medicine's sequestered itself
your pain's been buried hahaha did you want that?
or was it an accident party therapy
party therapy
do you feel better now?
maybe you do
or maybe you're looking for a hive
a symbiotic naturally occurring supportive nest bed
for sleeping, if you want to
or being a queen
I know you've got it in you

Fuck you

sip on my watermelon nectar
sit down and watch me
make a fool of myself
singing to JT you cringe while
I'm in my element element basic 00's element
you know you feel it
nodding your head in a secret ashamed guilty groove
my homeless hair swaying
prancing through the fairy air
as we sip gay gordons
through llama and cactus straws
sometimes you cry
and I cry too but we do it together
shut out the backwards falling backwards criminally insane indoctrination nuthouse world
pretend it's not there
for a moment
we exist in this outrageous space
multi-faceted as joseph's coat we pass
through
screaming haemorrhaging gacking fracking
deep the buried joy we'll find
love and joy and togetherness and not giving a shit
we'll know forevermore
because fuck you
depressive black beast always
we'll get you
and shove you deep up your own hollow vacuous rectum
never to return
motherfucker fuck you

The Devil’s Work

How often do you think
a Devil doth lie
and greet you as an angel
just to squeeze into
a soulful pantie
and twist it awful wedgie tight
whilst you holla righteous holy purpose

and how many once courteous
are now finished broken
at the hands of a monster
so belligerent and coy
it's forlorn to tell the difference

it happens so often
by earthen hands
whose aren't so always kniving dastardly
thieving
as monsters proposing as angels
that it must
though you'd never know for sure

Ode to YOU

There are millions of writers

who are better than me

wittier and more expressive than me

almost all of them

in fact

and many more

who should be poets

and don’t know it yet.


But

none of that matters

I love this shit

and one day

if just enough people

can feel me

and I’ve lived just slightly enough

to fill that bar of happiness

every single body seeks

I’ll die the gladdest of men

and hopefully too

will all of you.


Always love,

Your dearest degenerate

Paper Straws

The clouds are a bowl of appropriated

fucking poisoned oatmeal

on sunken hues

of navy blue

and carbonated so carbonated teal

Sucking us further always further into

a storm of which there is no relent

one of fire and flooding

and broken Earthen bones.





But what does it matter

you gotta live your life right?

Drive your car

suck on the lactating tit

of craven consumerism

and nothing beats a factory farmed steak

Right?





Paper straws

You gotta save us

please

we ain’t gonna do it ourselves.

Hot Také

DRiNK

your own melancholy music

pushing pushing you further into a self inflicted pit

of who the fuck

and what and why and when

you’ll be ruler straight

as narrow as a hot wheels track

bending forever round

a preconditioned hairpin

you hope will, one day

straighten out.


Christ bury the shock

the day you realise

you’re going in

endless devastating precipitated circles.

haahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

help us please.


Look upon this plea

and give our spines a wholesome hug

a hug we’ve been begging for

for half a generation, and one

that maybe we can

pass on

beyond our feeble arms.

Haribo

(A guest vibe by June Rayne)

A grand new world inspires you

colours shine so bright

whats and whys you crave for

yet your senses produce fright.

To sit and learn is easy

for those that you call friends

an overwhelmed brain in despair

can only hope it blends.

You listen to her closely

but there’s so much going on;

The walls are full of pictures

and where’s the sunshine gone?

All their eyes are on you

you want to hide or run

but there you sit afraid to move

dreaming of having fun.

Beat me

I am a beat poet

Born eighty years too late.

Introduce me

To Neil Cassady

And Kerouac and William S. Burroughs and beautiful Bukowski.

Induct me into the Dharma Bums.

I’ll sit on a mountain top with you

And visit that higher realm

You always claim to know

If only we’ll never have to leave.

Dancing forevermore to a song

That never will

become as old as us.

Saving Face

Sit on my face

And absorb the madness within my skull

searching for a flow that I can listen to

And be so wildly separate from.

Sit on my face

And witness the beautiful curly haired forever mine undeniable queen

I’m sharing the plains of mist

With.

Dark eyes and a mesmerising dance

Intoxicated

Intoxicated

Intoxicated

Feed me tacos

And a tune that shreds your soul and mine

A drop that sends us both

And a two day bender

That breaks us entwined

Yet holds our outrageous ignorance

In a stunning embrace.

I love you.

Smile

This is a symphony

of love and loss and endless compromise because understanding is the key to sucking on the dummy of companionship forever

give me a crackin’ smiley

it’s really hot and it fucking hurts

yet it’s all we yearn for, kindness and care and a warm intoxicated cuddle at the end of every day

the loving smile

the grace in the face of an action which lends a warm disgrace

amid a subtle understanding of that which made you who you are

a loveable occasionally excrutiating asshole

Dopamine

Sit in the mist and soak up the electric atmosphere surrounding you

X-Ray cancerous pulses of dopamine dopamine dopamine.

Feed me my worth

Sell me back my hooked addicted plugged in out of control soul

For a pittance, if you will.

The fairy’s junky lights are burnt out again

Pass her a hit of me or you or that guy who makes funny videos with his derpy-ass cat.

Our void is becoming one too deep to shine through

She’s almost dust

The empath always dies by our hand or its own in the face of stagnant superficial self-interested desire.

It’s cool though,

It’ll only plague our minds for a second or two

Until the next video drops.

Descend

Descend into the pits of being, you reckless dainty soul. A blinding light before your face does fold unto itself and yank you through an effervescent portal to the higher plane. A place with dancing sprites of every colour, creeping violent broken shades and absurd outrageous landscapes laid out in fractals which twist and grow and pull attention from all that which you came to do.

But push on now, blinkered through a smoke of all you know to be distraction, hunting for the source of soul or the seat of ego it must be scorched forever from this land so you can sit amongst it, awakened from material slumber to the peace of only nothing.

Through the layers of psyche you go, accosting fight or flight and instinctual dread as it tries to tell you NO! Don’t do this you’re going to die you’re going to die please, please, don’t do this don’t do this you’re going to die.

You must.

Blast on through unhinged emotion and tear asunder attachment and aching desperate dreams. Cry your final tear and slice the limbs of pride and longing this spectral being you once aspired to grow and nurture, it’s almost time to be.

Rip away at constricting useless rational webs of who am I and what it is to live and there it is the silver eye of godly crystal awaiting your demise or ascent to high vibration or the crumbling of this box you’re trapped in. You’re here. What next?

Dogmatic


In the beginning naught did shine but light and hope and clouds they all had lustre,

Then the Journey snuffed it out.

In the beginning there swam free peace conscious and curious lives we hungered,

Then the Journey snuffed it out.

In the beginning both beast and man sweet harmony sang and we fed them and they fed us our joy,

Then the Journey snuffed it out.

In the beginning O’ heavens they were hallowed and unknown too was hallowed though thy name On High unknown,

Then the Journey snuffed it out.

In the beginning there was but green and blue and rustle and trickle and crack and splash all over,

Then the Journey snuffed it out.

In the beginning connected all did feel and balance all knew well,

And then the Journey snuffed it out.


In the end all was bleak exhaust flew through the cracks and poisoned,

The Cycle shall reset you.

In the end there was no peace and wonder was survival dead,

The Cycle shall reset you.

In the end the beasts lay caged or worse and  mania-amaranthine so long beset them,

The Cycle shall reset you.

In the end the heavens all had clogged with hopeless quests to conquer,

Thy name unknown endured.

In the end there was no green or blue just black and endless thunder,

The Cycle shall reset you.

In the end the link it severed and all life fell asunder,

The Cycle shall reset you.

Dogmatic.