Dreams
Where yesterday tell stories to the future
I write love letters
to my soul
Binge drinking is not for the loved ones
Ive got assassins eyes
Finally someone cares
I can rip a fracture
From reality’s head
And tear
The view apart
Init night dance
Tango
With
Daytime
I can fall asleep
As they talk
But I cant tell you
What you already know
Or show me silence
I cant speak backwards
To retards
I cant unbreak my hart
I dont usually complain
but this cold
is killing me
I catch this window in the morning
Before I start to think
I fall through Gomorra
Land in the garden
Of Babylon
Would kill
For the man
Who will cut off my tongue
I see a reflection in that pond there
Your torso
Make me come
undone
Saturday, 28 March 2009
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Gun
As I woke up this morning
Someone stuck a gun to my head
And said
Write poetry
Write poetry about the under cutters, the emission, the tax aviation
The kids in the park hiding their fear under benches, write poetry about 14-year old girls
with ice in their veins in steel containers at the border
Write poetry about youth wasted on the young and wise old men running out of time
Write poetry about torture
Write poetry about fake smiles and fresh attitudes to hide old shortcomings
Write poetry of the gutter where grown men with no shield fight the war that’s over anyway and sacked suits from Deutche Bank binge their last fags on street vendors from hell
Write poetry about Mondays where shortcuts are sold for the price of gold and soundtracks to the beat of life break faster
Write poetry about estranged housewives who never worked at anything in their lives, apart from being loved
Write poetry about the cold mansions in Chelsea or Westminister where stiff upperlips tremble at the mentioning of a day off
Write poetry bout sick leave and Sunday morning vomit, write poetry bout Madonna's tits and Goebbles erection, write poetry bout dark prison cells, write poetry bout anal probing, write poetry about Worship, write poetry about whiplash, write poetry about getting the wrong end of the stick, write poetry about having the cake and eat it - what else is the point of having the fucking cake in the first place? Write poetry about the darkness within and the blinding fucking light outside
Write poetry about hellfire, write poetry about the coming heat wave and how we all "gonna do something about it" write poetry about seagulls with brain cancer and the water wars ahead, write poetry with led
Write poetry like it hurts, like it fucking hurts, write poetry about sex with strangers you don’t care for, making love to a woman who don’t even appeal to you, write poetry about female rejection and male pre-ejaculation, dirty sheets and early mornings, scratchy pants and bored babies, write poetry about love, as if it still existed, write poetry about dentist appointments and being late to your own funeral, write poetry bout how Im trying to be more me and you, trying more each day to be someone else, write poetry about creative writing lessons for kids with no pen led by teachers with no tongue, write poetry about poets chasing titles as if it was proof, write poetry about people calling themselves poets as if it was an insurance against self loathing, write poetry about rooftops moulding with depression as the city falls asleep another night with no victories and street lamps charge at the Morse code of life and the full moon whispers and the wind cries with a million voices: Write poetry
And I turned around to him and said: “Give me a fucking pen!”
Someone stuck a gun to my head
And said
Write poetry
Write poetry about the under cutters, the emission, the tax aviation
The kids in the park hiding their fear under benches, write poetry about 14-year old girls
with ice in their veins in steel containers at the border
Write poetry about youth wasted on the young and wise old men running out of time
Write poetry about torture
Write poetry about fake smiles and fresh attitudes to hide old shortcomings
Write poetry of the gutter where grown men with no shield fight the war that’s over anyway and sacked suits from Deutche Bank binge their last fags on street vendors from hell
Write poetry about Mondays where shortcuts are sold for the price of gold and soundtracks to the beat of life break faster
Write poetry about estranged housewives who never worked at anything in their lives, apart from being loved
Write poetry about the cold mansions in Chelsea or Westminister where stiff upperlips tremble at the mentioning of a day off
Write poetry bout sick leave and Sunday morning vomit, write poetry bout Madonna's tits and Goebbles erection, write poetry bout dark prison cells, write poetry bout anal probing, write poetry about Worship, write poetry about whiplash, write poetry about getting the wrong end of the stick, write poetry about having the cake and eat it - what else is the point of having the fucking cake in the first place? Write poetry about the darkness within and the blinding fucking light outside
Write poetry about hellfire, write poetry about the coming heat wave and how we all "gonna do something about it" write poetry about seagulls with brain cancer and the water wars ahead, write poetry with led
Write poetry like it hurts, like it fucking hurts, write poetry about sex with strangers you don’t care for, making love to a woman who don’t even appeal to you, write poetry about female rejection and male pre-ejaculation, dirty sheets and early mornings, scratchy pants and bored babies, write poetry about love, as if it still existed, write poetry about dentist appointments and being late to your own funeral, write poetry bout how Im trying to be more me and you, trying more each day to be someone else, write poetry about creative writing lessons for kids with no pen led by teachers with no tongue, write poetry about poets chasing titles as if it was proof, write poetry about people calling themselves poets as if it was an insurance against self loathing, write poetry about rooftops moulding with depression as the city falls asleep another night with no victories and street lamps charge at the Morse code of life and the full moon whispers and the wind cries with a million voices: Write poetry
And I turned around to him and said: “Give me a fucking pen!”
The Evolution Will Not Be Televised
The evolution will not wait for Facebook or You tube to catch up. There will be no broad media coverage. No band will hit the beat on MySpace. The London paper has yet to be released. There will be no kiss and tell or front page stuff
For your neighbourghs to chat about at breakfast.
The evolution will not wait for you to go to bed or serve as your wake up call, the evolution has no road bumps, no speed limits, no passenger seat and can not be viewed from the street. The evolution has no innocent bystanders and will not be on the pigs radio transmission any time soon.
The evolution will not be televised
The evolution doesn’t come in tea brands of different colours and tastes the evolution picks a winner and runs.The evolution doesn’t belong to the future, the future is gone, the future is now and now was how?
The evolution will not be televised
The evolution will not chose one of the contenders of the X factor or American Idol, the evolution will not ask you to get him out of here, the evolution will not choose to shine, the evolution will not glitter on twitter, nor take speed to stop from crashing, the evolution is the crash, the evolution is co-owned by the co-operation of the brave failures and the cowardly hick ups, the evolution belongs to the dead pans
The evolution will not be hospitalized, lableized, the evolution will not stay bipolar for long, The evolution can hear voices when there's no one there, the evolution has a devilish stare, the evolution is a stench that just wount disappear, the evolution is chasing the winner. The evolution will chose a sinner. The evolution will not be drugged, the evolution is the drug
The evolution will not be corporation, generation, afiliation, monitary, momentary and will not be legislative
The evolution will not be pop, or post, retro or underground
The evolution will not be sound, the evolution is the fake mistake to make, the evolution is the ache, the evolution is busy doing what we should do while we’re busy thinking bout other things to do. The evolution is a trixter, prankster, a Christian gangster, a jewish lobster, a muslim holler, a broken scholar, the evolution is dirty shoe shine on your shoe, the evolution is not yours or mine, the evolution is not shaved misbehaved or behaved, the evolution is not delayed
The evolution is now
For your neighbourghs to chat about at breakfast.
The evolution will not wait for you to go to bed or serve as your wake up call, the evolution has no road bumps, no speed limits, no passenger seat and can not be viewed from the street. The evolution has no innocent bystanders and will not be on the pigs radio transmission any time soon.
The evolution will not be televised
The evolution doesn’t come in tea brands of different colours and tastes the evolution picks a winner and runs.The evolution doesn’t belong to the future, the future is gone, the future is now and now was how?
The evolution will not be televised
The evolution will not chose one of the contenders of the X factor or American Idol, the evolution will not ask you to get him out of here, the evolution will not choose to shine, the evolution will not glitter on twitter, nor take speed to stop from crashing, the evolution is the crash, the evolution is co-owned by the co-operation of the brave failures and the cowardly hick ups, the evolution belongs to the dead pans
The evolution will not be hospitalized, lableized, the evolution will not stay bipolar for long, The evolution can hear voices when there's no one there, the evolution has a devilish stare, the evolution is a stench that just wount disappear, the evolution is chasing the winner. The evolution will chose a sinner. The evolution will not be drugged, the evolution is the drug
The evolution will not be corporation, generation, afiliation, monitary, momentary and will not be legislative
The evolution will not be pop, or post, retro or underground
The evolution will not be sound, the evolution is the fake mistake to make, the evolution is the ache, the evolution is busy doing what we should do while we’re busy thinking bout other things to do. The evolution is a trixter, prankster, a Christian gangster, a jewish lobster, a muslim holler, a broken scholar, the evolution is dirty shoe shine on your shoe, the evolution is not yours or mine, the evolution is not shaved misbehaved or behaved, the evolution is not delayed
The evolution is now
Voodoo
Everything is a mistake
I shouldn’t have left you in that lake
Ive lived 300 years
Ive faked all my tears
Every year was a dogs year
And now
Ive lost the will to chill
Ive lost the will to care
Chasing the hair of the dog
To here
Im the man who wasn’t there
Where did all the happy thoughts disappear?
Im to drunk to care
Ive been chasing a woman who don’t even appeal to me
Im barking up the wrong tree
Ive done unspeakable things to me
How can you learn anything
When you always use what you know
I love reality it just doesn’t show
I can solve a problem on the level
Where I was when it was born
I made my mind up: I don’t know, Im thorn
I wish I was more clever
Now rather than never
Im in love with a suggestion that
Don’t even appeal to me
I shouldn’t have left you in that lake
Ive lived 300 years
Ive faked all my tears
Every year was a dogs year
And now
Ive lost the will to chill
Ive lost the will to care
Chasing the hair of the dog
To here
Im the man who wasn’t there
Where did all the happy thoughts disappear?
Im to drunk to care
Ive been chasing a woman who don’t even appeal to me
Im barking up the wrong tree
Ive done unspeakable things to me
How can you learn anything
When you always use what you know
I love reality it just doesn’t show
I can solve a problem on the level
Where I was when it was born
I made my mind up: I don’t know, Im thorn
I wish I was more clever
Now rather than never
Im in love with a suggestion that
Don’t even appeal to me
Come Down
Thank you for chosing life
Its and odd choice
but now you're here
Strap up Dorothy
Its going to be a bumpy ride!
And a flight attendant will be with you momentarily
You may experinece some road bumps
and air pockets
There might be some barb wire along the way
but dont worry
its just a fleshwound
and it can be cured through hard work and binge drinking
your ass will bleed at some point
as the transvestite prostitutes of Amsterdam put it:
someone's ass gotta bleed!!!
And thank god it aint mine!
There will be days
when the sun
will shine
in horror
Laughing at
your ugly face
Buts its just the comedown
There's always tomorrow
Its and odd choice
but now you're here
Strap up Dorothy
Its going to be a bumpy ride!
And a flight attendant will be with you momentarily
You may experinece some road bumps
and air pockets
There might be some barb wire along the way
but dont worry
its just a fleshwound
and it can be cured through hard work and binge drinking
your ass will bleed at some point
as the transvestite prostitutes of Amsterdam put it:
someone's ass gotta bleed!!!
And thank god it aint mine!
There will be days
when the sun
will shine
in horror
Laughing at
your ugly face
Buts its just the comedown
There's always tomorrow
1001
Been with a 1000 women
Can only remember 1
Made a 1000 mistakes
But cant remember none
And I still havent found what Im looking for
Fought wars on the beams of stars
Seen Venus rim congregate with Mars in September
Ive dug deep and gone further than I choose to remember
My achievements were great and always to late
Ive fought for love and killed my hate
And I still havent found what Im looking for
In the crossfire of my desire
I tend to set everything on fire
Im a foreigner to my dreams
an alien in my future
Reality's refugee
And Io's lost love for Jupiter
But I still havent found what Im looking for
I was born old, will die young
The older I get, the younger I become
As I walk out the door
One thing is sure and its second to none;
I still havent found what Im looking for
Can only remember 1
Made a 1000 mistakes
But cant remember none
And I still havent found what Im looking for
Fought wars on the beams of stars
Seen Venus rim congregate with Mars in September
Ive dug deep and gone further than I choose to remember
My achievements were great and always to late
Ive fought for love and killed my hate
And I still havent found what Im looking for
In the crossfire of my desire
I tend to set everything on fire
Im a foreigner to my dreams
an alien in my future
Reality's refugee
And Io's lost love for Jupiter
But I still havent found what Im looking for
I was born old, will die young
The older I get, the younger I become
As I walk out the door
One thing is sure and its second to none;
I still havent found what Im looking for
Night Goat
I saw her once
The last goat of the village
Her eyes red like seagulls borrowing their thoughts from mavericks
You can have her, but not now
Now she’s tied up and alone
The two toned mastermind of the world doesn’t care
She says as she left me
Standing there
Feet bleeding
of lustfull envy
“You cant do this”
“This is not how you reconstruct deconstruction”
I lay down my weapons in the valley of the beast
as the bailiffs are approaching
gently
like
crackheads
“I want it all! I want it now! You will ALL be my slaves
In this paradise Im rebuilding in the garden
You will live there forever and wash my feet
For deliverance
Im tired of old men, bad sex and horny teenage prostitutes
They want me to die for them but Im already dead,
Life is a dying sport
And phoenix is flying low tonight
Ashes
To dust
And back again
“I need you like I need another hole in my head”
But not tonight, tonight the stars shine like east end shopaholics;
Cabdrivers, crack whores, zootz and dealers of littered hopes
scattered dreams and shortcuts of the fix are gathering
in the dead end street in the corner of nowhere and oblivion
Only to return tomorrow
with envy
And the rich have left the building
As they do
But you and I still dance like the beat
likes us
As if tango was ours for the liking
They are smiling now, they are finally starting to get it
As it dawns on them
She’s the last goat of the village
She’s so fucking hairy, her claws moist from the dew, chewing away
On the void that is this night,
the night that wount die
a scent of bad magnolia and dog’s breath
But they still want to have her
Like tears want rain
Like days want to pass into night
Like a fist fight craves power
Like sons need their mothers
And we need better lovers
the rise and fall of empires are mere moments 2330 days to be exact
I get bored easily, I just don’t know it
You can bore someone
Who just wount show it
Life can feel like an eternity
or two
I will end this
now
I forgive you, you are free to be forgiven
Free to fear death again
Like goats fear slaughter
Bleeding assholes
They like it
And over the dome and far away
you can still hear
the laughter
of youth
drowning
in time
The last goat of the village
Her eyes red like seagulls borrowing their thoughts from mavericks
You can have her, but not now
Now she’s tied up and alone
The two toned mastermind of the world doesn’t care
She says as she left me
Standing there
Feet bleeding
of lustfull envy
“You cant do this”
“This is not how you reconstruct deconstruction”
I lay down my weapons in the valley of the beast
as the bailiffs are approaching
gently
like
crackheads
“I want it all! I want it now! You will ALL be my slaves
In this paradise Im rebuilding in the garden
You will live there forever and wash my feet
For deliverance
Im tired of old men, bad sex and horny teenage prostitutes
They want me to die for them but Im already dead,
Life is a dying sport
And phoenix is flying low tonight
Ashes
To dust
And back again
“I need you like I need another hole in my head”
But not tonight, tonight the stars shine like east end shopaholics;
Cabdrivers, crack whores, zootz and dealers of littered hopes
scattered dreams and shortcuts of the fix are gathering
in the dead end street in the corner of nowhere and oblivion
Only to return tomorrow
with envy
And the rich have left the building
As they do
But you and I still dance like the beat
likes us
As if tango was ours for the liking
They are smiling now, they are finally starting to get it
As it dawns on them
She’s the last goat of the village
She’s so fucking hairy, her claws moist from the dew, chewing away
On the void that is this night,
the night that wount die
a scent of bad magnolia and dog’s breath
But they still want to have her
Like tears want rain
Like days want to pass into night
Like a fist fight craves power
Like sons need their mothers
And we need better lovers
the rise and fall of empires are mere moments 2330 days to be exact
I get bored easily, I just don’t know it
You can bore someone
Who just wount show it
Life can feel like an eternity
or two
I will end this
now
I forgive you, you are free to be forgiven
Free to fear death again
Like goats fear slaughter
Bleeding assholes
They like it
And over the dome and far away
you can still hear
the laughter
of youth
drowning
in time
Monday, 9 March 2009
Every Man Dies Alone
Dance to the end of love
The fish of your feet
left me alone
At home no one answers
As you ring the phone
Every Man Dies Alone
I embrace the horror
of your newborn face
The traces of time
Can not be erased
And
Every Man Dies Alone
Fuck me like angels
shatter their feathers
Leave me like people
who should be together
And
Every Man Dies Alone
The pain of your trust
is not an option, a must
I wish I could feel you
at least feel your lust
But
Every Man Dies Alone
Every day I made choices
that led to misstakes
Every man I have met
turned out to be fake
And
Every Man Dies Alone
Forgive me for falling
deep into your maze
I knew the end, but what else
was at stake?
As
Every Man Dies Alone
The fish of your feet
left me alone
At home no one answers
As you ring the phone
Every Man Dies Alone
I embrace the horror
of your newborn face
The traces of time
Can not be erased
And
Every Man Dies Alone
Fuck me like angels
shatter their feathers
Leave me like people
who should be together
And
Every Man Dies Alone
The pain of your trust
is not an option, a must
I wish I could feel you
at least feel your lust
But
Every Man Dies Alone
Every day I made choices
that led to misstakes
Every man I have met
turned out to be fake
And
Every Man Dies Alone
Forgive me for falling
deep into your maze
I knew the end, but what else
was at stake?
As
Every Man Dies Alone
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
God
blood runs at the speed of light in the night like tears of laughther from the underworld and your smile has Chicago written all over it. Rave you sinner. Rejoice! The choice was never yours to begin with and if god is dead who are you now, really?
Have you ever been an abonomation or seen her walk in a pair of shoes? I have. here's looking at you baby, say hi to my new lover. She's breathtakingly you.
God.
Have you ever been an abonomation or seen her walk in a pair of shoes? I have. here's looking at you baby, say hi to my new lover. She's breathtakingly you.
God.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
