Town.

The town in which I live is dying;
Sometimes I go out to cry.
But the rain masks my tears
And the night cloaks my fears.

The sky is crushing and cold
And this town's bones are getting old.
The sea's storming the pier
And the squall's all I hear.

Sorrow's a drag and regret's pointless.
We're here; we'll be gone, so why feel the blues?
But the jobs have all gone
And I'm left without Sun.

The TV screen flickers in the evening.
I'm sitting here with cans of beer and spite.
Some girl's on TV
But she's not singing for me tonight.

The lads 'round my way all want blood.
To them life is worth less than mud.
They all hide their eyes
And shout slurs in the night.

The town in which I live is dying;
Sometimes I go out to cry.
The sky's grey and looms
Like it's pregnant with gloom.

With hearts on our sleeves,
We die and we bleed.
With hearts on our sleeves,
We die and we bleed.

Wormwood.

My heart is the wormwood
To your worms.
The soft fibres make
A tasty treat for your termites.

I left my heart unconcealed
In the rain,
Like the fallen trunk
Of a once-great oak.

I'm so easily consumed;
The first fallen leaf of autumn -
Always the litter;
Never the growth.

I don't know what I am anymore.
I don't know what I am.
I'm a pliable putty
Hoping love will deform me.

I woke up this morning,
Borne in a whirlpool of understanding,
And saw you naked -
Even though you were fully clothed.

Revelry.

When hearts as free as wolves released

are out on high to roam as beasts

they plumb the depths and scale the heights,

like anchors tethered to willful kites.

The nights are long and people are free

to sing what songs grant them fecundity.

And as beer-sozzled minds trail off in haste

our actions oft leave a bitter taste.

Such closeness is shared and feelings are expressed

in such rapid succession that we love and detest

in the same moment, 'til our minds stop and say:

you could have it any other way.

I stand in the corner like some ignominious crow -

like some field in waiting for seeds to sow;

and I laugh heartily and let my fears pass the latch,

even though I fear and feel detached.

The girls all dance and sing their songs

whilst men drone on in irksome throngs.

Yet what brilliant couples couples make

when they're coupled in love for coupling's sake.

A drunken ramble at 2am

will seem inscrutable in the morning.

And like the Sun in rising to greet us,

renewed feelings will start dawning.

In drunken revelry we share

the nights, like fireflies that elude;

we drink, though we know we might crumble,

and wait for passion's food.

I try to numb this numbness with alcohol

and yet a frozen shroud creeps over my skin.

I don't know what my life means,

but at least when I'm hungover I'll feel something.

Supernova.

The cigarette-puffing hipster Hicks
Died at thirty-two years of age.
He was the voice of a silenced America.
He personified the stage.

Lenny Bruce killed himself
At fourty years of age.
He served four months for obscenity.
He was too young to meet the grave.

Jimi Hendrix died
At just twenty-seven.
We stood all along the watchtower
To watch him ascend to Heaven.

Jim Morrison was young
When he kicked the bucket.
When faced with the dick of corporate bullshit
He swore to never suck it.

Like stars of searing brilliance
They didn't last too long.
Their bulks were too big to sustain
So they burst in fiery song.

Some stars burn brightly
With controlled fusion.
Thank God Carlin and Pryor
Didn't succumb to illusion.

Cobain and Christ and Ledger
Died before their time.
Supernovas are born every minute,
And, boy, when they go do they shine.

She.

I think about her
And how I never gave my heart.
She's dancing with another man.
She's happy.

I can only languish in self-pity
And relish in her moments of bliss
Like they're meant for me -
Because she's meant for me.

We kiss in a darkened corner
Of a separate room
Whilst feet patter to the tunes
Of different decades.

I don't say a word.
I swipe back the hair from her eyes.
'I'm happy for you.'

As they dance on a marble stage 'neath the stars
I am the Moon.
She is my Sun;
He is the blue-green sphere between us.

Love (haiku).

Love is a black cloud
When viewed from beneath its bulk
By a rising bird.

Miracles.

Miracles are needed only in abject situations;
For 'miracles' can get one out of a twist.
But the fact that people believe in them
Gives me doubt that any god exists.

Miracles are needed by a superstitious few,
Desperate in times of hurt.
But miracles would not be needed
In a universe in which everything works.

Only a malevolent, disturbed deity
Could necessitate miraculous intervention.
For a miracle to be wanted,
One has to put logic into suspension.

Why is this happening?
Shall I pray for things to change?
A religious person must surely
Not see their beliefs are deranged.

If there's a god in command
Playing craps with my soul,
Then why must bad things happen?
Has my god a heart of coal?

Why must there be dire situations
In order for miracles to work?
It makes no sense to create sorrow
Just to remove minor hurt.

There is only chance;
We can't see what's 'round the bend.
I'll not put my faith in illogicity
Just so my poor, feeble heart can mend.

Teacher.

The teacher in schoool taught me to speak my mind.
The teacher in college taught me to shape my thoughts.
My friends tell me to forget everything I've been taught.

The teachers in school taught me the basic facts.
The teachers in college taught me to unburden my back.
And now I want to teach.

The teacher in school taught me to question authority.
The teacher in college taught me to see with a singular eye.
My parents taught me to respect their authority.
Life has taught me to get ready to die.

I died and went to heaven.

Well, I died and went to heaven;
Saw Peter at the gates.
Jesus cheered his followers on
As the rest burned in the fire lake.

The teenagers and wives
Were standing on their own
As the yielders to God
Pelted them with stones.

I thought to myself:
'Was this Earth
Created by the devil
When God was not at work?'

I always thought
That when I died
I'd be in a heaven
Where no gods did reside.

All there is
Is this universe.
God doesn't care for you
Unless you do his dirty work.

Well, I died and went to heaven;
Saw Peter at the gates.
Jesus cheered his sheep on
As the rest burned in the fire lake.

I thought: 'This isn't heaven;
It's just somewhere far from Earth -
A labour camp for fools
Somewhere in this universe.'

I wish I could be
Deep down in the earth.
I find it far more beautiful
That there's only nature at work.

Death.

I was born after 13.7 billion years of eternal sleep.
My mother birthed me in a hospital.
Life is the same to every organism;
It heralds a brief spout of caring and love.
But humans feel life to be special.

'Death is what it is,' I told her.
'But this feeling hurts so.'
Projecting human emotion will only scold yer.
Death cares not for the feelings you sow.

One day, I will die;
And so will you.
And after decades of living in bliss
We'll reflect on the lives we knew.

But life is just a ride.
Our brains will dissolve upon death.
Take all you encounter in your stride,
And remember to keep steady your breath.

Don't hanker after the past
And don't worry on the morrow.
When you die your life will be cast
And breath you'll never again borrow.

Life is just a carousel;
Life is just a ride.
The ride spins very fast;
The colours are very bright.

And though this most exalted attraction
May not trail off into some next life,
At least you have a shot;
So don't live your days in strife.

Clouds

The heavens are mottled
like a weary eye
watered with a thin layer of film.

A coating of stratus cloud
cloaks the heavens
and waters incessantly.

The Sun, it seems,
has gone on vacation;
it is summer, after all.

Gloom becomes the people;
the pavements take on an
air of hostility.

Smiles become inverted;
hopes become whetted.
Kettles become quite desirable.

The Wolfman.

There's no such thing as the Wolfman;
He's just got excess facial hair.
I know about all the stories
'Cause, baby, I was there.

And I'll be there again;
Yes I will.
I'm driven by the Moon
To make another kill.

And, baby, I like brownies -
The chocolate-fudge delight.
But I prefer brownie meat
In the dead of night.

Yeah, that's what I said:
All the brownies are dead!
You'll tie no more knots now;
There'll be no more badges to pledge.

I feel like an ox.

See the idiots as they roam.
They're quick to chase their ringing phones.
Brightly coloured lights attract
Spines contained in broken backs.

The promise of something more
Than what you know is assured
Of the things that you seek
Each blighted day of the week.

Brains on empty; mouths on charge.
Porridge language is discharged.
Mangled words and meanings lost.
Bleating herds of sheep - I feel like an ox.

See the idiots as they roam;
With brains as dense as airy foam.
That, my friend, is a paradox.
And, on that note, I feel like an ox.

But I am of the same breed.
My genetic code contains similar genes.
I can distance myself; build up a box.
I'll cage myself.
I feel like an ox.

It....

In darkness it rises from its winks;
Eyes the red of deepest crimson;
Teeth the plain white of bleached bone.

It snarls and snaps in agony;
The howling of the sea squall
Drowns out its moonlit cries.

Born of the night,
It takes to the air
In search of that which it seeks.

A lighthouse stands
Perched above a cove
Like a matchstick in unknowing tinder.

With a slight thud
It lands atop the search-light's crown.
It's the last thing you'll ever hear.

A boat on the ocean.

The peaks and troughs rock my vessel
As the tumultuous brine rises and falls
With the heartbeat of the water.

Rain sews the sky and ocean together
Like a watery tapestry;
The grey streaks are like thin threads
Being exchanged between two great beings.

The air is thick with salt
And the winds pelt me
With all the ferocity of
A pantheon of ancient gods.

The undulations become softer
As the tempest passes by.
Revealed is an evening sky of sapphire
With a few cumulus clouds gripping the horizon.

Behind me is a dark sky pregnant
With the moisture brought
With updraughts of warm air
Colliding with cooler air.

The wind dips to a breeze
And I feel a brief sense of security.
I'm floating upon miles of water.
I hope I'll soon find land.