June 17th (2)

If we have to wait for the mythical sinless
This stoning will never start
Theres a tank barrel pointed at me and a bullet of hate in my heart
The earth is a commonwealth
Yet we try our utmost to tear ourselves and it apart
We laugh in tragedy and cry ourselves to death in farce
As the superstructure screams
‘play your part!’

We should write our own
Burn the crown, reject the throne
Whether a knight or a bishop
The pawns are your own
So respect the sacrifice for your honour and glory
Who pays the price?
We stay coldburnt like fire in ice
Shrouding our bodies
For purity only flames will suffice
Every inequity and every prize razed to the dirt
Ground zero
A cleansed land beyond tower blocks
Beyond mansions
Simple and fertile
A reclaimation
A rebirth

June 17th (1)

A fractured tibula
And a cracked forced smile
Bruised puckered flesh
Skirts riding up
Interlude to the orange tranquil twilight
Before rare sunlit gathering
All meat and innuendo
So we’re up to speed
But they’re not in the know
and the drip in MY vein ,
Killing me
is full of question marks not capital flow
Checkmate;
I’ve cornered myself foursquare
Moments of short attention
Mornings of bridge crossings
The daily worship
And millennial pause for thought
Creeping skin puffy corpulent
Never settled
One only has oneself to blame
One only has oneself to praise
One only has oneself to raise
Beyond the limitations
Defy expectation
And don’t help tack down the lid on the coffin they gave you
City seeps sickness in through your eyes
Machines do too
No morality
No truth
Can stop that for you
No change of address
No flight
No careful studied ignorance will find the proof
That sits in you
Im acknowledging that
Fighting back
Music on my side
Rivers flowing through me
Merging, pooling
I accept myself
I'll be just fine
These failures will not stand as markers of my guilt
Ill rise above and find a space to fill until
I feel the rumble
Beyond the walls
That calls me to battle
That calls me to prayer
Fighting for the spirit of compassion
Resisting divisions
Refuse the hate we imprison ourselves in
That kills us stone dead and leaves the illusion of living

Magic

Cultivation in the morning and throughout
Thoroughly
You have my permission to be impressed
The ride never stops it just runs right through
Leaving signatures prefaced by scripts writ in waves
Good
With joy
Living, and loving the idea of love
Trust in the universe and faith in the Northern line
Because something conspired in the mix of disappointments and glee
And put the bravery of the fool in me
Just for one evening and by the most precise random Magic
The fool was in the ascendant
Beyond reason the Lady entertained
With humility, grace and appreciation
And the Fool found a window in one world
Traced by his index
And stepped right through into another story

The lady kisses twice, brushing each cheek
and speaks ideals That put that crass world back through the window
To shame, with its rigid gray pincers.
Her voice dances a tattoo of liberty
Leaving the fool hoping he can write the continent
By the stars in bold
Creating the kingdom of magic
Where the lady becomes his queen


Now the world’s full again
With more than just options and opportunism
This story breathes out and in
Unpredictable, contracting and expanding around him
With this manifest sense of destiny
Erasing signatures, crumbling contracts
And making contact NOT contacts
Because the real fairy tale is that people matter
And in this tale tokens became priceless
Nerves become charm and a journey of journies of a hundred miles or two
Starts with the first tiny step toward the tube

Easter Sunday

I've definitely run out of things to say
Feeling the answers are continents beyond
The questions might be closer to home but joy resists the fading thrall of blood
On a day like today
And this new character is already taking its toll
He sleeps late and personally I find his ethics somewhat distasteful
Whilst I’m folding the washing I’m thinking
Of all the corners cut
Of all the red eyed slaps
The conclusion is keep going
Because you can’t beat God
So stop looking in the pews for a muse and hit the dancefloor
Hit the gallery, hit the lecture theatre but please think beyond
Divisions and great hair styles and conviction
Think into a new obsession
One with higher returns and healthcare
In a suburban castle where sprinkled stardust on the doorstep
Loses its lustre and becomes so much more cladding
Who exactly is this speaking? We put this heart and soul into each twenty four hours
Sending the right message to the person at hand
No time to not be shallow, fickle
Brutal chasing
That which makes us whole

Heart and soul heart and soul heart and tarnished soul existing
Within the echoes of greater men, in the shadow of the divine
Creating ,or some lesser activity
To pay the dues on this soul
Grinding whichever axe looks dullest turning the blade away from the light and thinking of their smiles as we swing up for the deathblow

Photorealism

The thick lens curves concave
It’s the dull blade that vents
Letting our your fears through slits that bleed light
It’s the murmur in the dark on the ceiling above
A chord struck for maximum effect

Its in the invisible clouds
It’s in your stringy saliva
It’s the living, breathing epitome of waste
A life misplaced
All things either corrupt or chaste
Nothing grey
Divisions render this world liveable
Put it in a box and walk away

Distance
Alienate
Brew the bitter drug
And Walk Away

But those vents grow to tears
That rip the fabric of our veils
And open up this space again
You hear that murmur in a new light
As the birth cry of a fresh spectrum
And all is blinding
For one second.
( Breathe In)
Bitterness ferments and exhales the sweet scent of life
Into the field of daydreams
Sunspots on my vision flick beauty across the lens
It cracks and we’re real
Exposed and walking in toward

Where’s my right mind?
Right intention
Right angles triangulating to create the space where the thought was born
Filthy and Wretched
Gasping and Crying
Clasping the air for a wisp of life
Scrubbed down, weighed, raised and taught to hate
Taught to behave like the rest of us

And the city eats people like candy floss
At the side of the road where the traffic meets
And the light falls hard on my bed tonight
As the evening envelops our bodies and hearts

Time to stop seeking refuge in material, thinking out loud for the world to hear
I wish I could be through skin and words
Translucent and empty
To be filled by you
Close to the bone but not holding firm
Moving with the spirit not the letter
Because we never laid down those laws.

And the city kills people, clear as day
In the jagged cracks where they fall in between
And the trains run late straight through my soul
Screeching to a halt where lovers part.

Stream

Principle deviation reciprocates anger
Slowly grasping that, without learning, One is dead
What IS your ideal?
And what WOULD you settle for?

Stars of David & Broken Chains beat a dull tattoo,
Red Globes rotating, hanging godess on black cotton loop
Holding interactions at bay

Greasy, heavy headed shallow sleeping underprepared
And now I'm present
Sunk depressions
Into Brown private space they stare
Passive agressive negative accession in the tower
By the spiral stair.