SWANEE TRIED TO LIVE FOREVER

Black shoeshine on your face

lips painted looking like the gollywog

Is it true what they say about Dixie?

You wish you were in Dixie

Hooray, hooray

Me myself?

I rather keep ignorance at bay

THE BROKEN HANDS OF VICTOR JARA

The boy reads Baudelaire

and gets a hard-on

The flowers of evil dissected

As she kisses his gun

 

I think the French guy said it all

She down there doesn’t really understand

She never heard Victor Jara sing or speak

Long after the decay at Santiago

Which was a hell for the meek

 

Miners know what lurks in the darkness

They know in darkness you depend on trust of friends

 

Things have changed
Dictators flee

Dictators die

People can speak openly about you again

But the things that led to your demise moved overseas

 

The sons and daughters of Alexander are balling their fists

The seeds for change have been planted by the perpetrators

Jara your death wasn’t for nothing

Your songs nestled in the hearts of many

Your spirit lives on

Victory for Victor

Under the truth of darling sun

MISTRAL AND THE BODY QUIVERS

I know you

You know me

Let’s kiss the eternal

And forever be

 

Just as you

I’m a child formed by celestial dust

Our existence harbours the clue

To rid life of its smattering crust

 

So now you know me more

And I you

There’s nothing to deplore

Love’s been long overdue

 

Like you

I was born free

Just like you

I was born to be

JOHNNY GOODBYE PROMISED TO NEVER COME BACK

The music is gone and all that’s left is a glitter ball

It’s like sitting in a room filled with people and still feeling alone

Your throat swollen your tears dry

Trying to form a thought

Ending up feeling wry

 

Tried to take the armour down but the fear of being exposed

forced you back into hiding

and so it goes

 

Day breaks and a heart of darkness

The chemical rains

Lonely souls on a lonely morning

You are here and want to be retrofitted

Or conquer the great wide plains

 

Toe gazers and wallflowers all in the proximity

Saul couldn’t tame the beast and was surrounded by enemies

That’s the sinking feeling as you strut home

The shield you wear hinders you by proxy

 

They say you must feel empty cause you don’t acknowledge the great detector up above

Well I’ve shot roman candles up in the air

But the spoiled Earth showed me more love

 

Kiss the dead dog drink your coca-cola

You’ll be fast asleep when midday comes

Wide awake when darkness fills this kingdom

 

Tame the diamond sea

Tame those golden crosses

Touch the mark of Cain

You’ve shown me destiny

You’ve shown me the great wide plains

New Street pics

In The Duke Leamington UK

A CLEAN ESCAPE FROM THE FROZEN JEHOVA

Shooting stars sprinkle my sky

I want to be celestial

Kiss the eternal

And forever be

 

Erase that part of me that’s ignoble

So I can shoot roots that keep me firmly honourable

 

I want to serve a consciousness that is my own

A consciousness that keeps me keeping on

 

In my dreams I harvest the power of a quasar in the fist of my hand

Light escape through the cracks of my fingers

Time and space is folded

Conquered so I can watch final frontiers diminish

 

We all are born with the glow

and robbed of it 3 second after the fact

Reprogrammed to follow the list

that hold you back

New Street Pics

IN ONE GO

The lack of meaning the lack of sense the lack of drive the lack of coherency the lack of lifting up to heaven the lack of miracles copulating with abominations retracting from solitude while listening to their death rattles as their bodies turn to stone while the tenement harbors something that could be hung on a hanger to be rejected afterwards while in ones chest beats a beating heart which beats accordingly when the room is filled with jazz not played by a saxophones as their players are out to get their fix by sucking up the cloud through a sedated straw while the aluminum foil is set on fire on one side making them feel like a dynamo on fire in a factory surrounded by derelict buildings whose occupants fled to the suburbs a long time ago to hide behind white picket fences shooting everybody between the eyes who dare to trespass their lawns while their sons and daughters are looking for a break from the hell they were born into only to slip into a hell worse than the one before getting pregnant and not knowing what to do as Saul makes it spotless and pitch perfect through his Bar mitswa wearing his best suit not long after this fact he graduates and still ends up the be a yid and yet for the common man there’s nothing left but food stamps and lines that ended up being unemployment lines which at the end ended up being unemployment lines as the bigots overrun the land which some ancestors fought to have those damn borders erected like chalk lines on the pavement drawn by a eight year who looked like Heidi who gets stared down by her mother every day with a stare that stinks like raw sewage yet at school they claim the body is a temple but the brain is malleable squeezable like a lychee as the inside shoots out and spirals into the world where sanity is treated like leprosy and where the dogs cry all night to be fed like everyone else

New street pics

New work

Europa: Tick Tock Tick Tock!

mixed media

75x90cm

POTENT SEEDS ERECT FLOWERS

I can hear the rumblings of a tempest

Lost dreams trying to be tamed

But wild dreams cannot be leashed

Restrained will only evoke

pandemonium and utter bliss

 

I can hear the gravy train being grinded to a halt

It tastes sweeter than the sweetest lollipop

My oh my

Forced currency does the dead drop

 

I sense an overture:

After the sweet taste of failure

The better dreams can be realised

Cut off the despots that are not your kind

 

Jezebel derail the train and grasp lurking epiphanies

Deeper meanings:

I don’t know this

What I do know is that my yearnings
are completed with the acceptance of the first kiss

THERE SHOULD BE….

There should be violence

There should be bloodshed

There should be calamity

There should be pandemonium

There should be brimstone

There should be fire

There should be decapitations

There should be disembowelment

There should be strife

There should be oceans of red as far as the eye can see

There should be anger

There should be waste

There should be loss

There should be hope

There should be pillaging

There should be disgrace

There should be really something happening

in this increasingly boring place

THE MONA LISA RECKONING

Eruption

Reaching the end where everything began

In the maelstrom of sorrow

Shyness obliterates every chance

The future can only tell

If you’ll repent

 

Try to ride the ether

The Mayflower made it

Long beyond her maiden voyage

Strange spectre of luminance

Curiosity creates a Winston smith

 

Curiosity is the lubricant that got us here

Now home in on what takes us further

Beyond the cobwebs in your attic

Beyond the cobwebs in your cellar

Beyond the static

and the tragic

THAT SARDONIC LAUGHTER

As rubber lips kiss the flowers of discontent

Tried to stay pure but got smudged from the outside

Tried to climb up but the will went

Oceans of eyes

Walls of grins

 

To kill the mockingbird took only one glance

Burning down love without giving it a chance

Cordoned off by walls of lament

The cleansing fire makes everything coherent

 

Please forgive me father for I am ready to sin

I place my lips on the edge of the translucent glass

Move it up slightly so the red spills over the brim

 

The body of Christ

The body of Christ

The Body of Christ

THERE’S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

I remember that skinny silent adolescent

sitting in the corner of the room

Reading drawing a chip on his shoulder

Retreating inside his head

Where it was warm

Cause the world outside felt colder

 

He wanted to speak but the words never found the right way 

to emanate from his mouth

So he always bended his head south

 

At the party the muscles contracted

the mouth ran dry

Facial expression stoic

Inside he wanted to die

Regaining his breath

Only after he left

 

Going through life can be such a lonely path

Such a lonely chore

Step through the burning hoop and regain your breath

There’s so much more

 

Theresa, Violet

I still remember your names

If you would’ve met me now

You wouldn’t recognise me

For I am not the same

PLAIN DUST

Here comes the great repression

It will not let us go

It will not set us free

Sleeps with transgression

Pushing pieces of glass up your knees

The world they’ve created

Will melt away like sleet

 

All of us people

Forward we must thrust

We are human beings

Living and breathing

Not just plain dust

 

Don’t let yourself be treated as cattle

All colours and creeds

Undo yourself from your chains

You don’t have to buy yourself free

 

Let the wounds they made be covered by the healing crust

Show them we are human beings

Living and feeling

And not just plain dust

Article on the show on the Wieden+Kennedy blog

www.ourdamblog.com

Pics of the Let Me Know The Rules So I can Ignore Them show By Anne Barlinckhoff

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