Prophecy

Do not hate for what I may say

Likewise, do not applaud my insinuations

Do not look to me for a message

They are for screens

Mobile, television, computer

I am none of these things

Do not ask for secrets

I harbour only my own, and these are few

We are not a society of prophets

So there is no need to expect answers

We exist only in our questions, curiosity

and memories

We will all, soon, be forgotten.

A Red Mist Through Your Mind

Raptured in spite of this

Moment starts to fade

Your eyes are nowhere

But your memory remains

Claret drips down my chin

As we sit and dream

My favourite beauty

Falling apart at the seams

Personal acts of violence

Boxing gloves in air

Mindless indulgence

Of the ever untamed bear

It’s not about harmony

Or shelter from the cold

Lost words on sea breeze

The fear of growing old

It’s the spark that ignites us

A red mist through your mind

Venture yet further

Let’s see what we’ll find

Fall headlong for

More bruises and blood

Or stroll forth into

A land full of love

Modern Living

I sit and take in the dead

As love rushes through strangers

Invisible as me, sat in the corner

Waiting for it, to end

An hour passed, two words sent

Thank you

I'm so glad they don't see me

It makes me feel

Special

To be the unobserved observer

Taking in, spitting out, uncoordinated

ramble, ramble, shite

I'll sit and sweat, craving smokes

And be contently hidden

Behind such modern living.

Of Jim

He runs as mad as me

He flies higher

Go man, go!

He laughs like a madman

Knowing it, for the hell of it

He thinks on his own, this one

And teaches freedom

The beat priest!

The stoner shaman!

He's got visions

He paints unreality on dying fish

He digs it! He loves it!

He's going places, places that don't exist

He's you, man

He's us, friend

He's IT.

...

This is my life shirt

These are my hello shoes

This is pre-pubescent Latin girls with stolen Chinese baby

This is hunger

This is bad grammar

These are the shakes

This is beer

This is crazy in my eyes

I see future

I see terrified fear in nothing air

This is shit

This is fuck, cunt, curse

This is the great white orb

This is the most open I have ever been

This will never have a name

This will never belong

Anywhere

What So

If this is what it takes to be a mind creative
Then let this be a creative mind
Medicinal, mechanicial, monologue
Come now and see the show of what you never thought your child would be
Fucked on cough syrup, nictotine and the old friend booze
WITNESS LIFE
See us, see me. Yourself.
If this is a mind creative
Then we are a creative mind.

Simple

When I need

I need.

No denying

No fucking around

No romantic slobbery

Drooling with sentimentality and Chocolate

No Fools Gold

Dramatised television regurgitation

It is, as is, I am

It is, this is, we are.