Posts Tagged ‘skull’

circle

You might try to square a circle

Or vibrate in harmony with the sighs of the universe

You might relax into a bath in your underpants

Or translate the ravings of a French lunatic poet

But it’s not enough

To end your transpersonal delusions

Or tame the voices

That rave in your head

Like crows

You might enumerate your paranoia

Write sonnets to your sinking sense of well being

Compose an ode to empty cigarette butts

Ramble incoherently to your psychiatric nurse

While black angels watch over you with skull faces

Waiting to scoop you up and take you to hell

 

 

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clowncorpse

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

christ
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

wildturkey

Spare me the Wild Turkey, brother
I just can’t handle that shit
I go dingo’s gonad crazy and start fucking shit up
And so do a lot of other people

Wild Turkey 101 is 50.5 % alcohol
It’s fucked up man
And it fucks me up like being hit in the head with a two by four or a rubber sledge hammer
Never drink Wild Turkey with an unmedicated schizophrenic who calls himself a ‘voice hearer’
Who goes hurricane loco and smashes your guitar while shouting out- ‘Your rich dad can buy you another guitar!’
He smoked all my weed as well
A real friend was there to save the television before he broke it and stopped him from drawing all over the walls
I was too pissed to know what the fuck was going on
I think I might have popped some pills too
Then next day I woke up with the house smashed up and a pulsing, mutating headache like I had a cane-toad bouncing around inside my skull and eating my brains,
My mouth was a sandy prickly desert
I wondered what the fuck I’d done the night before
Had I even remembered to feed the guinea-pigs?
My wallet was empty but I’m sure I had a hundred and fifty bucks in it the night before
My only memories were broken images of drunkenness and depravity
And moronic drunken arguments sprinkled with paranoia
Everything else was a blank
I know I’m getting too old for this kind of ridiculous bullshit
I am not Charles Bukowski and I am not Shane MacGowan
From now on I’m sticking to beers and bongs

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

underwater

Five fathoms down she sprays into the wound
Thrice blessed by intimate hints of soul decay
Because she doesn’t even know the way
To crackle in the moonlight with no sound

Five fathoms down she spits upon the wound
The wound that wondered what to do on Wednesday
Blessed sentiment that seeped through cracks
And laid a holy woman on her back

Five fathoms down she spews into the wound
So poisoning oil will spread through festering flesh
And soon become entangled in a mesh
That whistles apathy with flagrant wind

Five fathoms down she stabs into the wound
Leaves green contusions all over the skull
Knocks down the trees that bend towards the dawn
Then sweeps into a dream of sex and sin

Five fathoms down she fists into the wound
Breathing skin and bestial wailing shrieks
Into misogynist ears of corpulent Lords
Who mutter, grumble, spit and play the chords
Of bigotry and bastardry abroad

The Metal Skull

Posted: September 7, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

metalskull
Tenderness,
Hopelessness,
Dreams of death:
The metal skull is beaten until all the lumps are gone and it shines like a diamond tiara.
The metal skull is beaten until love vanishes and it gleams with apathy.
The metal skull is beaten, forging new nightmare images in its secret brain.
The metal skull is magnetized by random metal thoughts:
Fragments of envy buzz around like flies, attracted magnetically.
Envy is like osteoporosis- it ruins my love and breaks metal bones.
The metal skull is smashed by vile envy.

The broken skull reassembles itself:
Bone joins bone as the skeleton forms and is spray-painted with flesh and skin.
I cannot hate the skull or the body that reassembles around it in my dream when I am conscious-
But when asleep, jealousy boils, envy forms poisonous pustules, love turns green.
Awake there is love, but asleep we are enemies.

eggshell
Bent by time and substances,
Bamboozled by the ache of mediocrity,
I send my poems out to the world
Like desperate letters addressed to lost souls.
Who will reply?
Who will care?
Who can comprehend?
My metal skull reverberates with these thoughts:
Steel echoes and rasping squeals of weasel words,
Amplifying the resonant bong of self-indulgence.
Then I am alone with my musings, whisperings and doubts,
Empty like an egg shell,
Ready to be crushed and thrown in the bin.