I like walking to see the man.
When the trees are stiff
and the clouds are glowing,
i take the high road up
to where creeks are flowing.
To where panthers sing, in
the darkest nights, to where shadows
are pythons and liken bites
when i can i see the man
i feel something inside me
bland, but beautiful,
second hand,
like a magic spell
in possum land, goannas
lizards, private lynx,
and kissen wizards
hybrid shrinks
when iv got a problem,
or my eye lid kinks
i follow the road
up to the skyward links.
Theres three roads,
once you arrive there well
theres one that will take
you up a plywood cell
and in this you scream
“take me to the dream
mr Pirolell!”
And if he hears you
in time youl smell
a clear blue gel, or feel a tear brew.
Well that is a bridge to enter your dreams.
—
The next road, the second, leads to
a humble abode with a pleasant
decadent essence. Inside this are
creatures that are big and
small, hairy and airy
ones, some are fairies holden
up librarians with scary guns
some are twisted toads with
bowed blisted noads
living life in a dark pit
solarium.
You must confront these
creatures to reach
the immortal bays
of the Pirolell beaches.
And here you will
be taught by the teacher
of teachers.
And that is the man i
walk to see.
—
The third road
you must tame an
insane hawk to walk
to the magic chalk board.
The bird is wanting to
**** those that wish
to write with the sword or quill, in spite
of it guarding its lord that is still.
If you can tame the hawk
than what ever you question
on the board with chalk will speak aloud
proud monstrous way,
and will discover all that is heavenly.
And youl realise that the man is fantasy.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
It was the darkest night and a pilot was up high
swerving rain trying to be dry
eating a fine meal
with the leather wheel on his heel
kicking back singing seal
listening to the clicking rain on the wind shield.
A storm was at due,
it was the largest ever seen
many were calling it the meanest thats ever been
Windows were locked
houses were all dimmed
people were in a lock down
like a wild croc- hound' would pin.
Tvs were silent
streets were like graves
chapels were full of sinners
their bare supple soft knees were dazed.
He was heading into a storm
he planned to meet the eye
he was nuts and he knew it
he was more crazier than high
he was in a place so dark not even a saviour would die
but he couldn't stand wondering so he took his plane to fly.
They don't know how he did it, those few who survived the storm
and it wasn't who you'd think
it was the homeless inked in zinc-
alone outside apartment links
throwing winks at a thousand bolt lightning kinks,
flashing high in the sky.
Wind lashing,
bottles crashing,
dancing in puddles
in a splashing fashion
trying to crash in to abandoned banks and cash in
but they knew there was more beautiful ways to die.
So they gripped the air and huddled close
and watched that drug plane fly to an overdose.
And they cried in rain and hoped it true
that friend who stole plane would come back in two.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
I could tell you my dreams
you know i care
you fill me with shine
in the dark of despair.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
Its an old rose on a cliff line
Its an unbroken wave at sea,
that could go on for eternity.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:41 AM UTC
On the italian alps
a blizzard in a gail
the lands are cold see
its all seems so numbed and frailed
I’m out a’ walking down
an icy river road
theres a bear hanging round
i think my breathing slowed
Im off to summer land
where the children run free
where the sun is open
in blue sailing country
I'm a walking down this road
off around a white bend,
a might just see a star
a tree on Jupiter
i might friend.
White teeth, gold,
banquets, handsome green hills,
buffalos, rainbow brass knuckles and the frills
let my mind play all night
in the moon on that street
in that leather world babe
under the pearl light well meet.
I’m out a’ walking down
an icy river road.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
Theres a Baptist church frame
empty of hearts and joy
plenty of sky above
like an empty pool of coy
its energy is vague
its people once were alive
tourniquet windpipes alive in the velvet hide
they sung the words of richness
danced on illness
war chains like rains
flooding brains for some mystical temptation.
They severely wanted a way not to die,
so much that life solidified.
And took them.
They thought they had colourful plans
of cloud street *** pits
hundred yard flower gardens
manicured by a tanned super freak
of atomic wisdom.
Till a sharp bit of plasma burned them to the floor.
It was a summers eve 1957.
The breeze let off a little steam and sent them straight to heaven.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 2:39 AM UTC
He wandered beneath the clouds
he looked up and saw black.
A storms coming. He said.
He Saw a large object.
When he finally came to it
he realised it was an ants shadow.
He threw his sharp stick
like a bolt of lightning.
Narrowly missing,
the kangaroo.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 2:52 AM UTC
Salty plain dust bowl
lone traveller wanders in
never to return
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
sweet nights of betrayal
freedom is at last on our tails
swept to the sea away from the rails
set in the sun on the moon we sail. x2
off and running like birds with no names
taking a ride toward those high frames
looking up toward a desert sky
folks are boarding planes dressed to die
only us and this world we can see
this ocean was made for you and me
our love combined is unity
undress me, sally.
We aint no law we can’t be teached
we gonna drive so far we can’t be reached
and sleep where the shady moon meets the sun
and die in a blue valley as one.
Feel your hand meet the breeze
fly to the edge of all your dreams
The sky is set for you and i
We were born young and we will die.
So fly with me, sally.
Cast aways on diamond light
i fell in love with you at first sight
And left the world where hatred ran
and sailed to a place where nobody can.
Swept by hope in a vanishing moon
We ran with eyes above to catch the balloon
But our backs were caught in the rising sun
And together we died in the blue valley as one.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
Quite horrible
draw your gun
stand in sun
look into the eyes
and your funeral
conductor.
A crisp breeze
is out circling
like a ghost
planting whispers
in your skull
You stand before
me parked
finger
nipping
at that gun of yours
whilst the sun
enters its prison cell
and the shade grows like a ****
transforming blood a little sharper,
judgding us in this alley
in this cooking kitchen
are peeping standers on a natural
strike- bear witness art exhibition
on the cusp of religion,
two dogs about to bark
and stray
a little more deeply into one another.
Soaked in the black theatre
many chimes of skeleton pearl
crying down the alley
its a dead sea.
hearts choking
in their own blood
sweltering standing two stick insects
feeling steel burn on em’ their finger tips
Daisy pickers glaring at the picker.
Its a field day in hell and someones staying.
One with wings will fly off as soul.
Uprooted in the *** plant of anguish out form within
the solitary dust world.
Steel curtains
and rainbow lizards…
Three streets
one alley
one sun,
one cloud
one keeper.
one judge.
one hell of a shoot off.
Look into the eyes of the timid dog.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC