Posts Tagged ‘dust’

mote

When the wax hits the orifice
When dust motes implode
When dead eyes are open
Like the door to hell
When innocence phosphoresces
When the fist hits the socket
When meat dances before you
When the porpoise moon radiates
When corruption coruscates

You will be confused
You will surely lose
When light refracts
Brains contract
Wearing silly hats
And there is no point no reason no logic
To the immensity of the rampaging insanity
In this hooligan mirror trick
Of laughing spectres
Where we feed on each other

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high-dog-440x440

Hidden heart erupts pulse flowers like dust-motes through air

Inner brain imagines mandalas

Plastic fractal rainbow images crystallize my mental skate-park

Unicorn day-dream deadly fantasias, hooligan holograms

Central hallucinations pulsating in infinite variety

Mad ravings by voices which echo incongruously

Suicidal strivings against concrete conformity

Schizoid simperings in the marrow of suburbia

Cracked actions in a bubble of sedition

Mutating madrigals which burble in tune

To the beat of the cosmos, galaxies and stars

Dreaming of vast swaying fields of marijuana

Drunk on delusions and midnight madness

Dying while hermit crabs crackle against rocks

Dying overcome by poisonous paranoia

Dying within while the world rages without

 

brokenbottles

Early morning broken bottles
Dirty fits and bad hangovers
Sun invisible heart inviolable
Misdirected magic trips
All your motions
All your sighing
Now embracing saccharine seconds
Like cannabis on a Sunday
Or a picture of an onion
Caressing and carousing
Through a faint vanilla sky
Come with me into abandon
Dance within the subtle ambience
Crash through vulgar wanderings
Break out possum indulgence
Communicate unruly utterances
Where dust buckles through compassion
Solitary bliss conundrum
Monetary missed connection
Blinding bats and sabotaging sentiment
Freedom rising on a donkey

bb622passionateaffair

Icicle underpants blazing concrete death mothers
Bread lacks street cred harrowing halls
mangrove mandala giving taking breaking sifting lifting
like mangoes day glo I don’t know
some kind of wiry knot but not constructed of ants or string
My daylight ramblings through train stations like a pilgrim
Chewing gum paper waffles of light because not always because not always like Christmas Eve
Neither Monday nor Pork nor April nor channelling delayed language

Nor being composed of monolith bracken bridges
Driven out and over by the pineapples of co-incidence
Beat rhythms sometimes no sequences or sentiment
Pedophile epididimus roached to quiet satisfaction
Hate and love not identity politics
Consider lesbian grief munching
under old sheets
waiting for a perverted minute
corruption breeds chocolate sphincters
Glistening kraut cadenzas
Happening repeated orgasms of light
poisonous meat bucket knows loaf trousers
metaphors metastasizing grave neurons
simplex engagement fundamental questions
What penguin? Which anal bead? Which weapon of need?
Everything and everywhere, even in your head
Waiting for melting bananas and dust
Remember Jabba Jesus Jack Kerouac Jimmy Hendrix Jim Morrison

seven

 

Morning time four am
Seven rows of teeth
Want a black void
Black as boots
Black as the death of a child

Evening time six pm
Seven bloodshot eyes in fur
Want total totalitarianism
Blood on the streets
And blood in the mouth

Morning time five am
Seven horns of brass
Want a valley full of bones
Slowly reducing to dust
And symbolising the future for all

Evening Time eleven pm
Seven wan but wonderful women
Swoon into the arms of a stereotypical man
Entwine lips in a profound kiss
And know that they are loved

Morning time five am
Seven sexy succubuses
Want to suck out my chi sexually
But the moment of sexual release
Will be worth death

Evening time eight pm
Seven diamond encrusted celebrities
Want so much to be alone
But are stalked by paparazzi and publicists
Until they OD on adoration

Morning time seven am
Seven lonely cleaners
Want to be delivered from their suffering
Earn barely enough to pay the rent
And dream of wealth and education

peoplewithoutfaces

People without faces
Blank walls of skin interrogating my rickshaw brain
Photo-flash of blood-rivers
Pus oozes from under a scab
Madness tastes like chocolate
Howl against the moonlight sensuously senselessly
Blue-white bloated corpses floating in stagnant water
Open eyes, blank and dumb, stare into infinity

People without faces
Paranoia seeps under the door and over the floor
Skeletal hand on my shoulder squeezes
I’ve got the fear
Atmosphere poisoned and festering
No way to realign my brain-cells into some orderly pattern
Drowning in terror
Too many crazy moons
Watch out Amygdala!
Satan lurks with asylum eyes, horns of brass and teeth like scalpels
A shark waiting to devour souls

People without faces
Icicles of bone
Piles of skulls
Crackle of schizo-affectation
Crinkled miasma in an empty room
Inch deep dust in a crypt
Fester, fester further down the road to death

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