Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Lenses

Thousands
Of spectacles,
Thrown in a giant pile.
Their masters sent to the showers,
Where they choked on

Poison

Synaesthesia

I add color to my words
So they stand out from the grey.
I pepper them with meaning,
The things that I say.
To be dull is not a crime,
But it is not right,
To stay uninteresting

And say what is trite.

Turin

There’s a hole in side of the cloth
That the body is wrapped in, carelessly.
The spices have not been applied
And the corpse begins to stink
Still they trudge through the swamp, torches burning bright,
Looking for a place to lay him to rest.
The great hero.

The one who didn’t do anything at all.

The Residence

Welcome to the residence,
Please sit down,
We will go over the rules as we understand them.
Rule one is that you shall not speak,
Not unless you are spoken to.
Next you shall crawl, and only crawl,
Unless you have to, I suppose.
Next you must plug yourself in.
Please find the ports behind your chair
And fill them with the appropriate parts of you.

We look forward to working with you.

To White America

Maybe
We had ought to
Give our black citizens
A reason to stand and to sing
Instead of none
At all

Friday, August 5, 2016

Heartbeat

Touch me on the chest
And feel my heart beating out of time
Out of accord with the normal;
I wish I could be normal,
Like everyone else,
But that doesn’t seem to be what
I’m destined to be.
So hold me closer until morning
And let me feel your heartbeat,
A reminder of what I can’t be,
But what inspires me

To keep beating.

Knickle-Brocky

The king of the fiends
A wicked sight
A creature surpassing the peasants in spite
The king of the wretched
The sick and the vile
There’s not one heart that he cannot defile
The king of the nastiest creatures around

You don’t want to be here when he’s in town.

Byron

It’s two hours left till the shit goes down
Says the old man who watches the clock.
His profanity mars the air with its presence
As he snarls out the window, clutching his rifle.
They won’t be bothering him again, he says,
Crouching by the couch.
This will finish it.
Two will lay dead at the end of the night,
And he’ll be the hero, at least in his mind.

That’s enough, right?

The Great Host

There’s a kingdom
Of men who stand outside
Freezing in the cold
Kept alive by their own strength
And will.
The greatness of their might
Fills their bellies when there is nothing
Not even a scrap of bread,
To eat.
They are naked but are clothed in their own wisdom.
They do not need your help,
Or your advice,
Or your pity.

They are fantastic.

Ala-blam-a

The last bus out of Birmingham
Left too late to carry him,
The young man of twenty
Out of his despair,
Now he lies in the ditch
A bullet in his skull

Betrayed by another one of his idols.

Escape Artist

Glasses tip
To give a toast
To one who earned recognition
For his foresight and his bravery.
He saw the disaster coming,
From miles away, he said,
So he decided just to leave.
Now we’ve got the last of the wine
As the world crumbles around us
To celebrate his achievement.

Well done, old boy, well done.

Victimless

Anonymous faces
Crowd around the boy who broke the window
Judging and calling for a whipping
Hungry for blood.
Like wolves they circle around
And see the weakness there
Ready to strike.
Except they’re not there;
They’re all in his head,

So he runs away.

Mourning After

The sun is like an impatient father
Staring  down through the haze
And low clouds blot out the blue
Making everything the color of tainted snow.
Trees begin to shed their dress that turns to bright colors
And the warmth of summer lingers
Like the opposite side of the bed

Where a absence once filled remains.

One Million- A Birdboy Jack Lee Number

One million people,
Standing in the sun,
Praying for a miracle
Hoping for the one.
Wanting something better than
The lives they have today
Wondering if greed and fear
Will someday go away.

You won’t get there with just a dream
You gotta fight, you gotta scream
You gotta work, you gotta shout
Don’t let yourself cave in to doubt
Don’t close your eyes, don’t close your heart
You’ve got to finish what you start
If everybody does this too
We might make all our dreams come true

One million warheads
Waiting for the call
Waiting for the button press
That burns us one and all
Why’d we think deterrence
Is the answer to our pain?
Can’t we build a better world
Free of atomic rain?
[Chorus]

One million dollars
Can buy a lot of things
Mansions, cars and swimming pools
And shiny diamond rings
But can’t it also buy a meal
For everyone on earth?
Can’t we put aside our greed
And realize what we’re worth?

[Chorus]

Checkup

Doctor doctor tell me now
How much time I’ve left to live
How much time I’ve left to give
My passions and my lusts
You’re the only one I trust
To save me and my life
I don’t trust my friends, my wife
They don’t know how it is to be
The spectacle that’s always me
The way I am, the way I’m free
To be the one I want to be
But even then I don’t trust you
I’ll do the things I want to do
I’ll take a trip down to the shore
And throw my self into the sea
And then we’ll see
How fun it is to be me
When I’m floating wild and free
With the sharks and whales
Steering through currents with their tails
And yachts and schooners with their sails
Coursing through the blue
It’s true
I’ve got no time for you
I’ve only time for me
I need it to be free
Hooray for individuality
I guess?

Or maybe I’m a mess.

Californ' - A Birdboy Jack Lee Number

Trudgin’ through the dry dust
Nibblin’ on a rye crust
Suckin’ water out of a dirty ol’ rag
Feelin’ like I’m half dead,
Achin’ for some fresh bread
Got my whole life in an old brown bag.

But Californ’s gonna put things right
Yes, Californ’ is just in sight
Californ’s my final plea
It’s Californ’ for you and me.

Sleepin’ under starlight
Bakin’ in the sunlight
Got my shoes glued to the soles of my feet
Hitchin’ rides in old trucks
Cursin’ all my bad luck
Haven’t made more than a nibble to eat

But Californ’s gonna put things right
Yes, Californ’ is just in sight
Californ’s my final plea

It’s Californ’ for you and me.

Last Call

One more shot for failing health,
One for courage, one for wealth,
One for wisdom, that would say
Better to live and walk away.
One for the love that left too soon,
The night before the honeymoon.
One to drain the bottle dry,
But there’s one left, so don’t you cry.
A shot to ease your aching head,

Not corn or rye or malt, but lead.

Willow Stands

Willow stands
Along the swampy wet
Blow gently in the early august breeze
Bloodsuckers feast on those who dare the dawn's light.

Flock

Wings flap
A rustle of feathers
A stirring of the currents
And the birds rise to heaven
Soaring above all with grace
Letting the winds carry them
Till it’s time to come down
Gliding downward smooth
And land again on earth
Tucking wings in
Now it’s still

Quiet

Greater Trumps

The Fool stands in the public square
Throwing out his nonsense to the air
Making everybody take his trash
And the worse part is that they listen.

He makes a ruckus and a fuss
His chaos assaults all of us
He’s crazy, nutso, bold and brash

And the awful thing is they listen

Fears

Polar molars
Holy bowlers
Hanging chads and diesel rollers
Hand in hand with my controller
I feel like I’m getting older
But certainly not getting bolder
I’ve got a chip on my shoulder
Towards those who try to change me
Rearrange me
It just serves to estrange me
I feel strange
Deranged
Free range chicken
I wish I wasn’t so frickin mad
And sad
And bad
I’m glad I’m not dead, at least
It’s all in my head, at least
I feel like I should go to bed, at least
For a while
How many muscles does it take to smile
A few?
That’s a few too many
There isn’t any benefit to trying
To keep myself from crying
When I think
How much I’ve made things stink
For the people I love
I hurt and I shove
And I mess things up
I’m one sick pup
I pour myself a cup
Of coffee, sugar, and cream
I think about the dreams
I have at night
And they don’t feel right
To demonize someone who isn’t here
But she always filled me with fear
Fear of disappointing her

And making her angry