Out now: Laser 3.14 Steel Shields

Interested in owning one?

Contact Danny Hughes of the Unit 44 gallery Info@unit-44.com

TEARS EXPLODE

Her vagina looked like the garden of Gethsemane

Her soul felt like granite

I gave her 30 pieces of silver

and went on keeping on

 

My body was in a warp

Not easily defined

A chemical rapture ripped opened my mind

 

Deranging your senses can take you all places

But in some cases

The strangest ways lead you back home

 

Shattering the vision of Baal

Hunting down clandestine cherubs with Diana

Feeling whole

Feeling alive while walking a tight rope

Hovering above a million eyes

While tears explode

Asscher Flew Cohen Knew!

Essential Amsterdammers: Laser 3 14 by David Beckett

check it here: www.iamexpat.nl

DANGERVILLE

Dear road

where the weary stand by the wayside

I see your white interval lines rolling by beneath me

I kick it into high gear

The city of desire and excess is closing near

 

I park my car behind the car of a blue pig

A scruffy looking homo-sapient tells he has great blow

I tell him: “Man for me that’s a no no”

I tell him: “Man an angel summoned me”

I tell him: “Man that’s where I was born to be”

 

He tells me:

“Son sometimes you have dive deep into the gutter

to emerge un-smudged

It gives a man a thicker skin

Makes him touched”

I set forth towards my radiant angel

For me she’s enough

 

I ring the bell and hear the angelic voice of reason

The door opens

A tired stairwell in a tired old building

There she stands

Radiant as radiant can be

We merge together

and drift away on the ether of purity

THE COMPLETION OF THE UNTERMENCH

At lighting speed travels the fury

Ellipse or eclipsing the tattered harmony

Ask and you will not be given

Bereft and unforgiving

 

Jump high or be trembled underfoot

Elbow forward and transgression shoots root

Hear the judge’s hammer slam

We are no longer in Kansas my man

 

Feel the cocoon expanding

Solitude can turn to a torture never ending

I advice you to keep an ace in the hole

So they’ll see “honesty” in your eyes as black as coal

AS DREAMS CONTINUE TO BE WASTED

Dreams

Dreams are wasted when the traitor wins

Purge yourself and start from zero

Open your hands

Look in your palms

Let the lines lead the way

Fold open your hands

Foil the plans they laid out for you

Cruising at high speed

down the highway

where distrust is thrown to the wayside

Dreams can free you from a lifetime of shackles and chains

It can plant an idea that’ll germinate inside your brain

Dreams can be a trustworthy friend

I love to walk its landscapes

watching reality bend

CRUDELY FORMED SHADOWS

Poke your finger in the dense perimeter

Puncture it and peek through

Follow me my darling shadow

Step with me into the new

 

The void in-between connects us all

Ever danced alone in a mirrored hall?

 

Dream unlikely my tired shadow

Dance and feel joy reach your brain

For you and I are one

and the same

Rumble in the urban jungle of Newcastle

Metro Radio roundabout

The Angel Of The North

The Baltic Flour Mill

photos by: David Bilbrough 

Polluted Jesus hanging On The Wall on Ikon TV

Watch Jesus being polluted here: Ikon

New piece with Mer and Bodum

THE DISILLUSIONED PAPIER-MÂCHÉ MAN

Old news paper and wheat paste

A collage referencing to yesteryears existence

All dried up

Hardened up

Can’t take a sup

Granted you will swell up

Fall apart

My hollow heart

I’m in you now

 

Brazenly restrained

The sextant abled you to follow stars

Numerous setting suns in a young life

I revere you

 

Sediment blues

Can you swallow the sky?

Dare you stick you hand in the water?

Dare you go out into the pouring rain?

Fall apart

or remain inane

POLITICS AND PROTO SCUM

Anarchy will set us free

After chaos emerges order

Resurrect reason and science

from the cemetery

The serpents drown in

their own overflow

Yes the human latrine has become fact

Drowsiness and binary induced fatigue

are inherently bound to that

Murmur and confusion

The inability to elate

raped man’s true destiny

and transcendental faith

Your tongue is petrified

If you speak it will crumble

Turn to dust

While you’re breathing

dust from of your mouth

Oh apparatus

You’ve become rusted and clunky

You’ve made the world boring
instead of ecstatic

You’ve brought us dread

THE WORM

Desire and the fury came to pass

Experience the world from behind thick glass

Dignity wasn’t made to last

Look up to the sky

There’s a sonic blast

Oh my brother don’t weep now

There’s plenty of time

To set the merit for desalted ground

Evaluate the way we behave

From the cradle to grave

Try to shine

even if you’re a diamond in the raw

Radiate and they’ll all be in awe

So my brother don’t weep now

There’s plenty of time

To set the merit for desalted ground

IT MAY BE TOO LATE

The tricksters are begging now

The falsifiers wishing for something authentic

The tar pits drained of their blood

The oceans gasping for air

The minds littered with binary clutter

The zealots crave for realism

The sky screams for mercy

The meek stripped of their dignity

The soul barricaded

The dreams blown to smithereens

The dream atomic of the crazies

The hounds of hell set free

The four horsemen always get a table

The celebrity death pit

The creativity of the soul’s harrowing end

The stumbler keeps on stumbling

The mumbler keeps on mumbling

The door-to-door sales man with a suitcase full of anguish

The abundance of cynicism

The eyes blinded by blunt force trauma

The morons leading the blind

The sick kept sick

The fog kept thick

The rules over-polished over and over again

The door’s no longer an exit my friend

The pollution spins out of control

The diminishing of progressive goals

The web of deceit believed

The freedom of speech brought down on its knees
The Worm eats through the brain to never come out

The dancers no longer twist and shout

DAISY DON’T YOU CHOP DOWN THAT WILLOW TREE

Sugar cane, refined packaged and sold

Tribulation under your hide

Your feet are now doing the overrunning

Make it through the driving rain

Find your way through both sides

Our baggage defines us

But never let it become the yoke

pressing down your neck

Yet fear and anguish becomes us

But hey: What the heck?

Voice your love or remain unseen

Execute elation or become one with the bream

Drifting till the freshwater meet the salt

And your existence comes to a halt

So when you doubt

Think of the smallest gestures

Those are the ones

everlasting

ICONOCLAST IN FURS

Scrape together a focus

Try to remain centered

without being persuaded to deviate

Try to see patterns emerging from fields of incoherency

Without logic to crave

Be one without mimicking

the two next to you

Morph from grey to grayish

Without caring if this will turn out to be
the final imbue

Let the straps of human bondage come undone

For angel wings only clatter for some

Because In so many ways

You are my lantern in these tattered days