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Poems (1990-1991)
Estrangement
A vast ocean spreads between us,
dark, swirling,
cold.
Your back turned - a wall,
high, of stone and stretching to the horizon.
Barbed wire silence,
strewn like barricades across the no man’s land,
while i lie beyond,
thrashing, struggling within.
Confusion.
Despair.
Where is the way out?
If only i could not be here
or anywhere,
if i could fall inward, collapse, disappear into myself
and be not.
But there is no release.
Here i must remain,
to endure the terrible silence
and the panic of my own thoughts,
until,
finally,
the fitful waking mind
cedes to the black stillness
of sleep.
- July, 1990.
Kiss
On the hazy edge of sleep,
as shadows begin to blur,
i lie.
Waiting.
She will come for me tonight.
She will come to take my life from me
and i will welcome her.
For what seems an eternity, i wait.
Impatient.
Anticipating.
At last, slowly,
as the waking world fades and recedes to shadow,
through the misty veils of sleep,
she comes.
Her icy fingers reach out for me, caress.
She moves across me, seductive and terrible,
gently stroking the nape of my neck.
I turn my head and wait for the pain:
- agonising, exquisite.
My life draining from my body.
As the world grows dim before my eyes
i know that i shall not wake this time
and now i shall be with her
forever...
- July, 1990.
The Nature of Love
Came he before her, hat in hand
And knelt he down before her feet,
Prostrated self in dust and sand,
Dared he not her eyes to meet.
Said he: ‘My love, for thou I yearn.
‘My longing heart doth have no rest.
‘O say thee how that I might earn
‘Thy precious love, thy heart’s bequest.
‘For thou art all for which I live,
‘Mine only reason for to be.
‘For thee my life I’d freely give
‘If thou wouldst only smile on me.
‘But if thou sayest thou love me not,
‘I’d sooner wish mine end to come;
‘My flesh decay, my body rot,
‘And dust to be my final sum.
‘So speak my love, with tender care
‘Kind words to banish all my fear.
‘Say thou wilt be mine for e’er
‘And hold my love a treasure dear.’
Then placed he her foot upon his head
And waited for her heart’s reply.
And to his begging eyes she said:
'Piss off you pathetic little fuck!'
- July, 1990.
Justice?
The meek shall inherit the Earth.
So it is written, so shall it be done.
Why, then, is it so,
that i sit, and watch
as the strong and bold take everything,
succeed and conquer wherever they wish,
through sheer selfish will
and indifference to the feelings of others?
Indeed, it seems, the more selfish,
the more heartless and callous they be,
the greater the rewards bestowed on them
and the more good fortune comes their way.
While, watching envious and helpless
and bewildered by the injustice of it all,
the meek receive nothing
but the tread of a boot in the face.
- August, 1990.
Moments of Madness I
Walking
down the street,
thinking
of my enemy
and the latest insult
i had endured from him,
wanting so much
to spit in his face
and picturing it
with pleasure,
my heart stilled in horror
as i realised i had almost
spat in the face
of the old man,
innocently sitting
by the side of the road.
- October, 1990.
The Bird
In a biogenetics experiment,
i watched the embryo in the beaker
begin to take shape.
Suddenly,
too quickly it seemed,
it grew and grew,
assuming the shape
of a large skinless bird,
like a rubber chicken, but alive
and screaming, screaming
in utter agony.
I pitied its suffering
and wanted to kill it
but my tutor wouldn’t let me
- not just yet.
Later,
i began to sense
its will to live
and refused to kill it
when my tutor told me to.
Instead, i helped
the newborn creature
to escape.
In the morning,
after waking,
i had all but forgotten
my dream,
until a strange horror seized me
at my first sight
of a bird.
- October, 1990.
Concerns
The Middle East is about to go up in flames,
toxic waste chokes the seas and waterways,
famine spreads its empire through northern Africa
and all my clothes make me look fat.
The death squads still reign in Central America,
in Beijing a generation’s brightest are gunned down,
orphans are fed AIDS in Romania
and would you look at the disgusting state of my skin.
Rape and murder are tonight’s TV meal,
gunships drop gas on frightened villagers,
a child dies every two seconds in the Third World
and - i just can’t do a thing with my hair!
- October, 1990.
Moments of Madness II
Punching
the pregnant woman in the stomach.
Spitting
in the face of the old man.
Pushing
the old woman off the bus.
Stomping
on the child’s toy car.
The vilest imagined deeds,
as if out of nowhere,
invade my reason,
without invitation.
Thoughts, self destructive,
like demons tempt me with atrocities,
planning then to desert me,
leave me guilty,
alone,
with no excuse to offer.
- October, 1990.
Pointless
I thought of the Environment.
I switched off many lights.
I washed my hands in cold water,
drank coffee from a thermos flask.
I set my heater down to low.
I turned off the television.
I stood and stared out my window
at the myriad lights of the city.
- March, 1991.
(In 1991 i was charged with possessing a 'regulated weapon' for wearing a studded bracelet. I tried to defend the charge by arguing that the studs didn't even finish in a point, but the judge ruled against me and i was given a criminal conviction over a piece of jewellery. It took local rebel Richard Watts to have the balls to fight his similar conviction in the Supreme Court and have the whole stupid law thrown out.)
Studs (Control of Weapons, 1990)
The police have banned my bracelets.
The powers that be have declared me illegal
and decided to normalise me.
Nearly 23 - time to grow up!
It’s time to take
my place in the machine.
Be a nice, clean, respectable,
responsible citizen. I’ve had plenty of time
for playing the fool.
Now obey the rules, make it easy for myself.
- I never really believed
in anarchy anyway.
And these days, even less so.
And even less do i remember
what i believe in at all.
It’s almost as if
the forces without
were conspiring to change me from inside as well.
The symbols of rebellion
that once stood for something
now just seem pointless.
The purpose has been forgotten.
The old images fail to inspire.
A way of life becomes fancy dress.
The questions no longer need answers.
Who i was has been stolen
by the hands of someone unseen.
(Is this what they mean about
"dream police" getting
inside of your head?)
They have fled with my spirit.
Where have they put it?
I want it back.
They want to crack me,
attacking from within.
But i must not give in.
I can’t just let them win.
- April, 1991.
Inertia
Floating
on a sea
adrift
lost
of contentment
wanting
bare
and going
- July, 1991.
Matricide (Trilogy)
I
Cities of cement and steel
Arose on the coastline and across the continent,
Raised up by the great rulers, the Master race,
Conquerors and kings of all they surveyed.
In the Masters’ master plan,
No obstacle was permitted.
Onwards and outwards they pressed their frontiers.
Growth and more growth was their goal and their god,
Endless expansion for the sake of itself.
Now was the dawn of dominion, the grand World Order.
Empires of power and progress
Stretched from sea to sea.
In their hands they held the fate of their creator.
Such it was in the beginning of the end.
II
Basking in the glory of their grand creation,
Rested the Masters in self-satisfaction.
Ignoring the divisions widening within them,
Never did they question the wisdom of their needs.
Knowing their empires eternal, smugly they celebrated their excess.
Over the praises of wealth, the words of prophets
Foretelling future horrors passed unheard.
Oppressive putrid fumes already filled the air
Belched forth from the Masters’ black-fuelled furnaces.
Lakes and seas became their sewers.
In search of buried riches they butchered the ground that bore them.
The last green forests fell before their greed.
Even worse were the weapons of their fighting within,
Ready for release at a fateful word.
As the feuding factions struggled for supremacy,
Their awesome armoury of annihilation
In waiting stood silent and sinister.
Only now could they realise the error of their ways.
Now was their last chance for redemption.
III
Nothing moves.
On the scarred surface all is silent.
Stark landscapes stretch
In all directions, scorched deserts of dust and desolation.
Great oceans of poison and oil
Near the horizon hang dark and distant.
Over ravaged hillsides the sky’s acid touch
Falls like a ghost hand, far off to the west.
Long is it since the last Masters
In their selfishness sealed their dark destiny.
Forgive them, Mother, for they knew
Exactly what they were doing.
- September, 1991.
A Walk
A long stroll, i decided
was what was needed
to offset the excesses of a Sunday lunch.
The road took me out of town
and along by a paddock
attached to the rear of the local abattoir.
Several young cows,
when they saw me, came running,
bright eyes full of curiosity and life.
We stood there for some time,
silent,
in a sort of communion of fellow creatures.
Behind them, in the meatworks,
a harsh metallic sound
suggested the sharpening of sawblades.
I left them then, and continued walking,
heart heavy with guilt,
stomach still heavy with steak.
-November 1991
Cactus
In the trees,
in the half-light,
stands the plant:
Six feet tall, cactus-like,
but covered with moving tendrils,
striped and hairy,
like the legs of tarantulas.
In the breezeless air it moves,
swaying with the motion
of some undersea plant-creature.
On each moving appendage
rests a wooden clothespeg
of unknown purpose.
We begin to remove these.
As we do, there emerge,
with glowing eyes, from within the plant,
many giant spiders.
They move around in confusion for a time
then begin to come
after us.
We run.
-December 1991
Insomnia
guns
guns and bullets
bullets, soldiers
bullets, wars
wars, destruction
death and ruins
bombs and warplanes
bombs and death
tanks
tanks rolling
corpses, mud
tanks, mud, blood
bodies
napalm, burning
wire and trenches
napalm, death
death, destruction
planes and tanks
tanks rumbling
blood and mud
life and death
life
death
god?
god and bullets
god and death
death, god, bullets
bibles, blood
bibles and bullets
god, guns and guts
death and judgement
god and guilt
hell, sinners
desire and sin
judgement, fire
god, guilt, soul
guilt
desire
bible and karma
god, krishna
desire and shame
sex and damnation
judgement, hell
sex
sin
krishna, karma, soul
karma, witchcraft
goddess and god
witches, bibles
the circle
the pit
cross and pentagram
coven and karma
circles and blessings
magic and gods
wicca, krishna
the goddess, the circle
magic and karma
spirit and soul
witchcraft
the mother
mother goddess and candles
priestess, fire, circle
rituals
sex
naked, the circle
chalice and candles
pentagrams
firelight
goddess, sex magic
magic circles, sex goddesses
white candles, red fire
naked, rituals
ritual sex
sex and firelight
sex and spells
magic, fire, circles
fires, the pit
the pit, the dungeon
dungeons and chains
dungeon goddesses
dungeons, flesh
dungeons - leather, fishnets
whips and chains
chains, claws
fishnets, high heels
high heels, black boots
rubber and leather
black rubber, black leather
black hair, rubber, chains
boots and handcuffs
whips and leather
dungeons and chains
black hair and high heels
handcuffs, leather
fishnets and high heels
long black hair
fishnets and high heels.....
- December, 1991.
home .. about me .. photo gallery .. drawings .. poetry(1990-1) .. poetry(1992-5) .. poetry(1996-2000) .. writing .. rants .. links .. rings .. mail me