some beach scratchings

This past weekend, we packed up the Outlander and headed northeast to King’s Lynn for a little camping excursion. The first one of the season. I know it’s late, but heck with the earlier weather not being the best and then vacation time in Fuerteventura, well the days and weeks fly by and before you know it’s mid-July before you’re …

ignorance

can be yourself don’t bottle up the body, keep it open. when all self-identifications remain get rid of god. no self-definition, i am energy and bring nothing reality here, can i demand nothing when you want nothing, seek nothing expect nothing unexpected! a man engrossed prescribed by his scriptures will get wrapped up in them so many saints words may …

god be sitting on a fence

god be sitting on a fence up the road i saw him peering at the traffic passing by then he wandered over to the tobacco shop said something to the barelegged boy leaning on the countertop adjusted his spandex shorts and left

no glory

so i lay there playing with splinters in the late red afternoon the angels of paradise hidden in the mystery of my days leaning on warm wings sang to me sticks lie broken dead leaves gather dust i am homesick here in the ashes all i wanted was glory found only strange sadness instead

night’s leaves

on a pristine october afternoon i applied for a job begging at the ports all for the sake of feeling my way against the ghost of your truth my lies limed and loaded flowed easy riding the night’s last flicker of hope i was young i tried to capture you with rhymes and exotic suggestions touching myself pretending to be …

rapture

on the radio the buzzing world whistling blowers moan the clack of balls clicking so well straining a high thin monkey woman begging for rapture

ant-people, something has happened – the remix

Best experienced through headphones…  ant-people, something has happened that’s made me question the nature of my reality, a thread to follow… the point of intersection between the human mind and suppression. i don’t think you will ever see me again. i achieved what i was incapable of. the time wave, i sent it. the strong rule the weak and …

before the beginning

in the moment she answered formless in-between states of grief shadows dancing underneath her eyes she did not recognise me darkness dull and desperate before the beginning began i caught myself staring like a chimp caught humping another chimp, never would i be better imitating the ways of the master not to create but to destroy the beat of her …

vapour and dust

and then it made sense to me i stood witlessly fumbling the key to endless happiness she sat on the bed with her hands clenched, ‘i will help you hold the hatred, spread it over the fields black and foul and what will you do for me?’ i will give you another life layered in gauze and honey, burning in …

1

plaything for the gods

i was in the desert once lost in meditation i was trying to get to grips with being a plaything for the gods i met some souls sitting around a fire in the open night they were contemplating Good and Evil Lust and Sorrow all of my incantations and prayers ignored by the old gods, i consigned myself to the …

Where is her glory?

outside, the rats huddle against the cold grey shade of sky eyes trail behind her shivering as she sings softly like a morning bell metallic breath blows grim where is her glory?

her destructive rage

  metaphorically speaking a kooky dream bounces between erotic romance turned gripping taboo restrained, repressive struggling to contain her destructive rage, she falls unkempt in blood slightly deranged a killer on the loose

I’m not dreaming

This isn’t finished, but I thought I’d share it with you anyway as a sort of working out loud post.  Plus my brain is fried right now. I can barely string these few sentences together. // I’m not dreaming my dark eyes see a purple flower next to a burnt out tree I smell the breath of the Beast hear …

in a view that looks the same

in a view that looks the same nothing changes except time the rain washed away the early morning silence leaving in it’s passing patches of white like tiny barren islands are all that remain of the snow on my block

On the fate of gods and men

Is it true all men must die? How many faces will you meet before you meet your maker or your fate? Faces of me Faces of you Faces of each other as one because we are all together and i am not the walrus but i like to see them run for comfort buses and trains, run to get laid …

On Damaged

Isolated by my own strangeness I try to bridge the unbridgeable gap between us You with your good looks and blonde hair, ice-blue eyes that beguile bewitch behead those with courage to look longer than a stare I think of something Prince would say: “Now move your big ass ‘round this way so i can work on that zipper, baby” …

A Kiss Is

I’m sure if we closed the distance between us we’d kiss. And that kiss would be the beginning. And that kiss would be the end. A kiss is never just a kiss.

1

Stroke My Terror

You don’t want to go where this leads I dropped my airpod on your breasts You never give me your honey but the coffee you serve is the best I stroke my terror to find joy Oh I’m going to burn in Hell alright I promise I’ll burn well though ‘cause mother said if you’re going to do it do …

And that’s the trouble with poetry

I awoke this morning to the hammering sound of rain. Just what you want out of your Monday morning – dark, wet, gloom. I made a batch of strong, dark coffee to match the mood. I turned to my one true source of motivation – books. I cracked open Matthew Zapruder’s new book, Why Poetry. He’s on a mission to …

Archaic Values

As a poet I hold the most archaic values on earth. They go back to the upper Palaeolithic: the fertility of the soil, the magic of animals, the power-vision in solitude, the terrifying initiation and rebirth, the love and ecstasy of the dance, the common work of the tribe. I try to hold both history and wilderness in mind, that my poems may approach the true measure of things and stand against the unbalance and ignorance of our times.” - Gary Snyder