Posts Tagged ‘death’

depression

Too much hate

Too much pain

Not enough love

Suffering again

 

Too many victims

Too many lies

Fucked up system

Innocence fried

 

More misery drifts in

Like acid rain

Eating out the body

No memory remains

 

Sinking in self pity

Feeling like a creep

Can’t take it anymore

Yet again can’t sleep

 

How much longer

Enveloped in dirt

Sunk below a graveyard

At least it doesn’t hurt

 

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Gone

Posted: October 7, 2017 in poetry
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michelle

And now you’re gone

And I didn’t expect you to go so quickly

And you were such a caring loving lady

With such a good heart

And I wish we could have worked it out

So I could have save you

But I couldn’t save you

You seemed to want to go

And now you’re gone

And the world seems empty

Pretty girl with cats’ eyes

Now you’re gone forever

John Forbes 1986 - ANU_original

I dreamt last night I hung out with John Forbes and ‘hit the piss’
We talked about Frank O’Hara and the death of God
We talked about women and love unrequited
We talked about Sydney skies and how to write a good drug poem
We talked about the importance of tone and irony
We talked about how Dylan Thomas used to do a hundred edits on one poem
Strange these fragrant poetic moments
With good companions on the road to death
John was as cool as I previously imagined
Brilliant, witty and sardonic
Then we went to score some weed
And some cough medicine
And filled our esoteric needs

 

5bb5b5acb0901229ccec9f340d939688

Death is the great trick

You are death’s whore

You should never underestimate the weasel

Death is the great trick

You are death’s weed

You should fear a poisonous scrotum oozing pus

Death is the great trick

You suck death’s marrow

You should never believe what the cool people say

Death is the great trick

Wink and you’ll miss it

You should never underestimate the depths of my depravity

Death is the great trick

You are death’s dildo

You should never trust a man on meth

Or an amateur gynaecologist

Time

Posted: April 1, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

dali2

I feel broken not self-assured

And time ticks on inevitably

I feel sexually impaired and hurting

And time ticks on explosively

I am decaying into my sense of self

And time ticks on inevitably

I am waiting for a super-sense of self assurance

And time ticks on explosively

I am frenzied and particularized infinitely

And time ticks on inevitably

I am resting and hard to spot

And time ticks on explosively

I am tremendous and untouchable

And time ticks on inevitably

Dream

Posted: February 17, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

 

nick

I have a recurring dream where I’m back living with my parents

And they are giving me shit about not having a job

Then I’m talking to my brother

And I say  to him

‘If anyone ever asks you to go to Laos

Don’t go/ Don’t go/Don’t go

My brother died in Laos and we don’t know what killed him

Then I wake up

screen-shot-2012-10-30-at-4-28-19-pm

Felonious kicks
For stupid pricks
Cavorting like corpses through purple twilight
Tedious fucks
Out of luck
When concrete cracks
Buildings collapse
Never go back to the town of your birth
Where skeletons parade through lonely streets
First people you meet
Have no eyes and no faces
Spectres haunt corners and grimace like gargoyles
Cars pass driven by porcelain princesses
Taking their kids to school
While their identikit husbands toil
Through uneven soil
And death’s maw beckons
At every second
To suck them into the pit
Full of shit
They consume and sit in front of television
Hypnotized
Hype glazes their eyes
And zombifies their skulls till everything just seems to blur
Into a grey and infinite turd
Stinking up their neurons and rendering them vegetable
Useless as a used condom

10028179-Close-up-of-a-smoking-cigarettes-in-a-stack-Stock-Photo

Time like cigarettes
Measuring out moments of tedium and trial
Just existing
Sometimes seems difficult
Watching television
To quiet suicidal ideation
Decaying cognition
Corrupted cogitation
Stinking thinking
All around the rubbish piles up
‘Cos I can’t be bothered cleaning up
Or have some mental block about it
Any woman would be frightened away
I’m going to die festering in my own filth

bosch

Under a sky of lead and fire
Naked people writhing impaled
Or hacked to chunks
Terrified, tormented
Their bestial screams echo and blend
Flesh bleeds and spasms
Stench of despair and sulphur
Demons forked and foul organize the torture
And giggle at the pain of the damned
Fire and whirling lava lakes
Body on body tortured beyond sanity
Dogs of hell loose and biting
Rats, snakes and scorpions set free to feed from inside out
Bodily orifices pierced with sharp objects
Pain and madness intensifying
Hell’s doors are locked from the inside
But the suffering never ends

 

Curtin_T.L._Robertson_Library

Campus is quiet as I walk through this time of year
Still an assortment of unobtainable, and unbelievably beautiful young women
To flash a glance and then look away
So I don’t freak them out with my desperate eyes
Lots of dodgy sculptures that cost the Uni a lot of money
Grass but not enough trees
Various concrete and brick monstrosities to walk around
My heart is heavy and death is not far away
Like I’m hanging from a cliff
I pass the library and head up the path through the amphitheatre
Turn the corner then I’m at the OT building
Pushing my troubles into recesses of my mind,
I head into work