Archive for September, 2015

obsidian

Obsidian walls closing together
Green breath and racing heart beat
Dead density of stale air
Spectral presences watching, watching
Down in the soul infected with fear
Obsidian walls closing together
Who am I?, the victim wonders
What is my measure as a man?
Who have I loved and who loved me?
Did I change anything in this supersized madhouse of a world
Soon I will be a vile pile of meat paste in the grinder of evil
Then to dust and the worm
What was it all for?
Will I be greeted by Jesus or a blank sleeping nothing?
Deep in the earth or way up in the sky?
Or will I fry?
Obsidian walls closing together
No way out
He surrenders and is crushed and cut to pieces
As the brittle black obsidian walls crack together

Advertisements

jacknicholson

She said,‘When he walked past me I felt a shiver down my spine. But I wasn’t sure if it was a good shiver or a bad shiver.’
She said,‘I asked him if he was a bikie. He looked like a bikie’
She said, ‘He said no’
She said, ‘Then I saw him coming out from the IGA, with beers’
She said, ‘And I said hey baby come over here’
She said, ‘And we had some drinks
She said ‘I know he’s a good man even though I’ve only known him for three hours’
She said ‘Have you got ‘dreams’ by the cranberries
She drank all the wine, and spoke too loudly
But she was like a firecracker, so full of life
I felt good for my mate, he’d met her in the psychiatric ward- the rsvp for the sanity-impaired
I wished them both well after we had gotten really stoned on two sticks
They left me a few cones
I thought to myself- I’ve got to get back to the Gigglebin, and they left

morrissey

Cold metal silence
Time stumbles on thick moments
Broken coffee cups
Dirty plates fester
Full ashtrays
Piggies rustling in their cage
Solitary fly sneaked in through an open door
Ease into the armchair
Such exquisite relaxation
Lower back muscles loosen
Roll a smoke
Inhale
Exhale
Coughing fit
Curlicues of smoke from mouth
Light incense
Smoke from cigarette and incense forms spiral staircases to nowhere
Bored
More melancholy than depressed
But not uncomfortable
Time for a Morrissey album

piggies 21_11_2012 152

Little warm balls of fur
With cute pink piggy feet
Nuzzly noses, gentle spirits
My piggies
My friends
My children
It feels so good to watch them playing out the back on the grass
Or crawling all over my feet under the doona
Or sitting on my shoulder while I watch TV
Sometimes late at night
When all is silent and the earth breathes slowly
You can hear them singing
An unearthly bird-sound
To call the mother-ship

sexism

I could tell I’d freaked you out
You said ‘That’s offensive especially for women. Let’s stop talking about that stuff.’
And my stomach knotted into a ball, and my balls crawled up inside me
I thought of how lonely for female company I was
How desperate to impress
I realized I’d blown it and been offensive
Oh God, don’t let me be a servant of the patriarchy
I don’t want to oppress anyone
My language about my flirting lessons is not appropriate
My attitude to women is not appropriate
It has a hint of hunger
It has a hint of lust
It has a hint of objectification
It has a hint of sexism
It has a stench of fear
It has a stench of desperation
It has a stench of ignorance
It has a stench of idolatry
I don’t want to be a gibbering maniac with a rapist mind
Please don’t think I’m a monster or a creeper
I’m just so lonely that I feel like I’m dying inside from the ground up
Inch by inch turning into a statue
Soon to be made a psychological eunuch
By sexual deprivation, frustration and loneliness

Blood_Wall

In the killer’s mind
Tangible mass of
Revolver in hand
Weight of the moment
Moonlight like feathers
Blood-simple
Bone-pure
Her wet mouth a red O
Afraid to breathe
Wide-eyes surprise
Shock of Victimization
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three bullets in her mother-fucking head
Cordite effusion
Blood splatter on a wall
Eyes still surprised
Sliding to the floor
Broken doll
Busted Barbie
Lifeless meat
Stench of blood and shit

most-beatiful-women-08

Stardust on her eye-lids
Cellophane kisses
Messy lipstick
Blurred mascara
Trash
Ripped fish-net stockings
Pours another drink
How does it taste?
Warmth of alcohol
Abandoned but unbroken
Trash
Glitter-ball perfume
Lust for doom
My darling
Trash
Lounging in the gutter
Vomit in her hair
Eyes on the stars
Which rotate alarmingly
Vomits again
Screams, kicks off her high-heels
Trash
But still beautiful

penguin

Flesh eating song-bird stabbing penguins with it’s beak
Penguin flesh rolls down it’s gullet
And blood, blood for the vampire birdie
Foaming flesh and penguin blood
Feeding, feeding saps their strength
These black and white waddling piles of meat
Strangely formal ridiculous gentlemen
They bleed into the dirt
Nature’s armpit
Hellish Island

Oh little birdie
Nature’s armpit
Rotten, wild flesh frenzy
Small brown bird with a taste for blood
Its maddening penguin feast will never end
Strong from meat and hungry always hungry
Carnivore songbird tweets meat dreams
In the hooligan night

night2

That energy that fuels the force of light
Drives towering trees to skies and thrusts stars higher
To coruscate like glitter in my eyes
Charging my heart and bedazzling the sky

A full moon haunts the hobo-hungry night
Diana on her hunt to queer her circle
Moonlight silvers patches on the plains
And cold soft light is mingling with the marshes

What ghosts now haunt the miscreant night?
What eyes gaze through groaning gloomy glass?
Haunting thoughts and flickering metal silence
Cold fingers clutch me from a tomb

Oh take me to a world beyond pain
Where I am perennial and eternally waiting
Where there are no more tears and no pointless lust
And only peace and silence and love
Numb and kind of Stoned
Perhaps enlightened