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A thousand small needles
Over a thousand small days
Each point piercing nothing more
Than the skin’s surface
But still
 
And you feel to disappear
Just disintegrate
But something will not allow it
 
Each point an awakening of sorts
Like a room of grown men
Each in varying degrees of failure
Manifesting in the despair of
A new shirt
Risky haircut
Crazy socks
 
Like a lost old lady
Hardly there but for her cane and
Coloured hair
Asking for help with a 

    crack in her voice
 
This pain is a dark morning
And
Sunlight in your eyes while
At the job
Sirens and car horns
An absence of psychedelic logic
 
A thousand years past
And a thousand more to come
And still
The same voices
Droning and breathless
They skim the surface and dissipate
In the grey mornings mist
But still
 
You feel to disappear
Just disintegrate
But something will not allow it
 
And you wish to forget
To avoid anger
But something will not allow it
 
A thousand years of repetitions
Of the same rules
The same poems
The same hatred
 
The pain is a dark morning
And sunlight in your eyes

 

Dress down Thursday

As bad as it gets 
A flash of light can still
Arrive
And remind me that
At least I avoided having to 

Every day

Go to a job 
That makes me wear a tie 
With my top shirt button 
Done up

Discord

 

Walk uphill

Into wind and rain

Eyes open chin up

Walk in front

Naked if you have to

Take the full force of it all

 

Run upstairs 

Do not walk

So when eventually

Inevitably

You have to run

You will not be left behind

And fed to the wolves

Your body a stepping stone

As the masses walk through their malaise

 

Keep Moving they say

But most days

Doesn’t life just grab you

By the ankles…

Nails digging into skin

A merciless lesson in humility

 

And there is no reason

Nothing you did wrong

To deserve such treatment

It just is

 

Don’t look to me for help

Or retribution

Don’t look to me for counsel

There is no shoulder to cry on

No arms to hold you

 

A sandstorm churns up my insides

I cannot see

Beyond its edges

 

And so I drag you

Sober and drunk and high and

Low

I drag you

Along

With me

 

And demand allegiance

And demand patience

Days and weeks and years go by

And still you remain 

 

My arrow through the wind and rain

An anchor on the open ocean

While I demand the impossible.

 

 

 

One summer day

  

The drug addicts dance off against the alcoholics

As tribal music crosses green fields and

Teenagers smoke their weed while back home

Their parents drink chilled rose and fuck on the kitchen table

Probably

 

Everyone is so young

And vital

And we recall those times when you had no call to

Lie to yourself

And laughter arrived as spontaneity

And today was today

Was today

 

A call came

A trip to the hospital

An emergency

The gods sometimes say fuck you and your wistful memory

And your only choice is to

Say yeah

 

Well

Ok…

 

 

 

 

Just another Tuesday

  

I hurl the piping hot stovetop

Across the balcony at the pigeon

As it tries and fails badly to

Hide underneath the deck chair

 

The thing clangs against the metal chair legs

As the rodent pops straight up

Whacking its stupid little skull against

The base of the seat

 

The hot coffee splashing across wooden slats

Bits of feather and dirt fill the air

And are caught in the 7am sun rays

As the bird slams against the glass over and over

Trying to get away

And I watch on gleefully

 

die you mother

Just take off first

So I don’t have to sully my hands

Picking up your dirty corpse

 

A second bird perched and static

Looks on from across the way

Unflustered by the commotion

I wonder which of us

Looks more insane to him

 

Finally the thing makes its escape

Unharmed

And I am left there

Alone without caffeine

As they disappear together into the morning sky

 

Time to go to work

I guess.

 

 

 

 

Positive Positive

So there you go

Ships passing in darkness

Over and over

Pulled down into each other’s orbit

Gravity increases exponentially

Until one of you destroys the other

 

These are nature’s rules

Not mine

 

 

 

 

Specialisation is for insects

 

the city hides monsters in plain sight

underneath oak trees and behind bus stops

gathered in corners of blown-together trash piles

behind the sound of distant gunshots

and crows stealing jewels

 

this place will eat you alive

so don’t let the smiles fool you

the hippies play guitar from

inside a mushroom haze

and good for them

but they’ll be first to go

 

look behind you

feel the wind change from the slice of the blade

just missing your neck

a glint of steel in blinding sunlight

the red of a wild dog’s eye

looking into you ready to charge

 

this place will tear you apart

given half the chance

for no other reason than

it was just your goddamn turn.

 

 

 

Podcast links

Seeing as the writing is stalling, I have linked all my previous music podcasts for ease, below.

 

These go back to 2013 and are more about the songs than anything I have to say about them. Please do have a listen/share with anyone you feel might dig them.

 

Podcast 1

Podcast 2

Podcast 3

Podcast 4

Podcast 5

Podcast 6

Podcast 7

Podcast 8

Podcast 9

Podcast 10

Podcast 11

Podcast 12