prayer for the dead

Evil; a word that is most often heard in houses like boxes sitting bright.
When love, and peace reign free, then all shall be filled with delight.

As the sun sets down, in an indigo bath
   his followers, they come, gleaning grins full of spite.
Placing people in deteriorating tombs,
   a sarcophogas fit for traitor,
   bound together by urine drenched tatter

Balloons

Atmospheric overdrive,
we're feeling slightly alive

We who avoid the hive, and took the dive,
to strive and jive, moving and grooving,
to and fro, to the tones of grinding bones,
headphones soften the yells in a pell mell hell.

Tubular noobular, reality is resurfacing everywhere,
head held high; they're going under
claps of thunder, and then we're tumblin'
the road is mumblin' it's star swept stark steady melodies,
to you and me, til its just us three, and the bees and the trees.

Who called out to me?
Was it free and long and strong?
grasp the bong and forget the slong;
rock on to the beat, don't you dare take a seat,
let the music sweep you off your feet, and at last you'll feel the heat;
its a blazing ocean,
a magick potion,
of kryptonite, glass, orb, spheric

utterly amusing, to the chosen few
who like to chew and brew the stew
of this cockpit overrun mind.

Fortunate Aversion

cases lining walls

no room for the smallest of small chairs, 

placed ever so exactly one space to the left

cannonballs clunked on tables, 

round and round alike, 

heavy like iron bridges, 

on backs of men with wooden legs

spinning on the spot,

leaving indentations many upon one.

oh foul!

you have scratched the antiquties, 

replace them it is impossible you see

cannons taken and loaded, 

into carts drawn by goats,

trodding down roads, 

leading no where in particular

somewhere down the line,

a ruckus emerged

heartily we charged full fledged,

path upon path, 

seeing only blind birds struck by the sun,

whose bodies had begun to dismember

calling forth an unseen terror in the eyes of the follower,

a far cry from safety,

retreat retreat my gentle folk, 

fore being is absloute and undeniably fulfilling.

caged

Your structured establishment, slowly sinking to ruin, an unforeseen force penetrating a barrier composed of a rotting slime filled mass, stuffed full with; lies, weakness and greed.

The waste left behind after a sewer detox, not even significant enough to be scraped particle by particle, just left to perish among dry leaves and a dying rat, who's lungs are gasping, barely clinging onto a poisoned existence.

A futile struggle towards a better tomorrow, when today's work has yet to be, and we're crackin' jokes at the weather, stuffing our ears full of greed.

For Emma

gusty wind, blownin o'er blue hills
you are the sunshine my daffodil.

the race for your soul

NO rest for the wicked.
Eyes wide awake, bloodshot and cracked
cant sleep, this energy holds, nailed to the floorboards, critters crawling amongst' locks of misery.

earth devours the corpse whole, no fleshy entrails dragging about, gone was the dead beat.
wolves, we heard them during the night, clawing away, no mercy for prey.


who is fast enough to out run evil?
 you cannot cage the panther, nor the tiger, nor the snake, put behind glass windows with no power to their name, we're all the same they might exclaim, such a shame we cannot hear the words they have to say.