Fine Arts Party

 

Fine Art student party in the nineties

Innovative art on the walls

They might all end up unemployed but they know how to party

Everyone was on acid

Gold keys

And there was a back room with glowing star stickers

So you could pretend you were God looking out over the universe.

I started to freak out

And saw a thousand foot high monster with hundreds and hundreds of eyes

The fear set in

Paranoia crawled up my spine for a while

But then I mellowed out a bit

And had a good time

The trick

Is never to think

I shouldn’t have taken that fucking trip

Lost

Lost in the harridan night

The girl with the cat-eyes is dying inside

Her body wasted by drug abuse

Her affections for sale

Her heart kind and pure

Still a nice person

But dying inside

Still a good friend

But dying inside

Still a sweet companion

But dying inside

Cellophane

Cellophane trousers and corpulent kisses
Right on your bottom my hooligan love
Come to crescendo then meet round the bend
Just so invigorating doing your friend
Beaten and broken and bust and contused
Never beginning and always confused
Newspaper thoughts in your sand-paper mind
O how I wish I could leave you behind
Magnificent dreams and magnificent schemes
Comingling violence and grinning obscene
In desert, in rainbows beside the grey earth
How much does my brain cost?
What is it worth?
While crows pick the eyes from a four year old child
Life is haphazard your essence is wild
Feed me explosions and flowers and beer
Take me out dancing and let me be weird
By growing a subtly stoned grey hipster beard

Pricks

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

Campus

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

Fear of Death

Corpse of a clown
Face without eyes
Deadweight diatribe against earth magic
Maudlin musing about nocturnal naughtiness
Dead grey foetus in a rubbish bin
Dead eyed optimism
Dead eyed consumerism
Corpse of a chorus girl
Makeup blurred, legs spread
Paranoia, Paranoia
Meanwhile many at the old folks home are
Entranced by the possibility of a quiet death
A quick death
Sacrificial mechanisms confound and confuse
And Paranoia seeps in
Encrusted with schadenfreude
Beaten to a spaghetti consistency
Squeezed through skull
Aching for cold lips
Of death kiss
Corpse of Marilyn Monroe
Necrophilia
Paranoia, Paranoia
Eyeball sliced like an egg
Eye-juice oozes
Poison gas pass-times eat away the soul
Napalm nightmares blaze across the cranium
Paranoia, Paranoia
Road-kill retro-action to circumvent cynicism
Squashed cat somnambulism
Body-bag of broken bones
Corpse of a junkie
Fantasy zombie collapses
Cold in a corner
Paranoia, Paranoia
Rigour mortis
Statue of the living
Physical indelible memory
Every corpse like a leaf in the wind
And a cell in the body of the grim reaper

Ice

Empty light-bulb
Diamond blast clarity
Sky-rocketing head-rush
Crystal frenzy
Thick white smoke
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale

Soaring forehead to sky white bliss
Angels kiss my beard above the clouds
Googly eyes popping
Feeling funky like a monkey
Feeling fried brain tai-dyed
Towering ego over clouds
Impervious to sleep
Impervious to hunger
Churning jaw
Too much fun
So against the law

Pegasus

I am riding Pegasus the winged white horse
Sired by Poseidon and birthed by the gorgon Medusa
Ears pinned back by vortex speed and kaleidoscope visions
Faster than sound, faster than light, faster than consciousness
Then we arrive on an island in the Pacific

There is a coral reef a hundred metres off
Waves break like curtains falling in the middle distance
Coconut palms, scent of the suggestive sea
High over sea gulls squawk and spiral
The water is almost flat, darker green further out
It laps the shore quietly

Pegasus whinnies
I hop back on his back and we are off again at hyper-speed
Watching the world whizz by like a fast-forwarded film
One object blurring into the other until there is just a mandala of colours
Then we are in Egypt at the weathered face of the sphinx
It’s expression inscrutable but no less mysterious for that
Ancient and crumbling
Old wisdom messaging the present
The sun is horrendously hot and I begin to sweat
Pegasus rears up on his hind legs and flaps his wings

Back on and I am taken to the house of a poet
He is starving
He is hanging out for a shot of smack
He is typing till his fingers bleed
He is smoking cigarette butts he’s picked off the street
His eyes are blood-shot and googly crazy
And he is one of many
We will visit this night

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

Rabid

Twist a string of beads
Around a witch’s waist
Build a crappy tent of bulbous bones
Against the rabid rain

Which pelts poison in your brain
And soon drives you electrically insane
Nerve toxins in the neurons
Birthing paralytic rictus
And quasi simian spasticity

Beat a rubber eel upon a warlock’s wobbly bits
Signify a morbid mountain of madness
Spit upon the surfaces of suppurating melancholy
Dance into the crack within the nothing
Like a stoned fool on smack
They’ll never want you back
Until all is black as boots and empty

Taste a poxy potion of hallucinatory mushrooms
See Christ crucified with the head of a Beast
See the many horns and eyes of the beast
See the real Christ crucified in pulsating pain
See the wood of the cross multiplying across Europe
See the Shroud of Tourin photocopying a saviour
See Christ crucified on every tree
And every tree a Bible
See towering cathedrals of light hidden from mortal retinas
Fractal kaleidoscopic sun structures of infinite intricacy
Bedazzling and befuddling desperately then
Faces without eyes emerge from the void
Like fungus growing from a corpse

Flashes of spark-light phosphorescence against the windows of the skull
Mad carousing reptiles wrap their bodies around a totem pole
Wood hacked to grinning skulls piled to heaven vertical
Fire flickers and the children of light dance their circle
Drums beat a rumbling rhythm that hypnotizes
Summoning old Spirits to bring in a new age