Snapping and cracking it moves with a clink
jibbering and jabbering beneath the kitchen sink

It backs up the pipes with stagnant decay
reeking and stinking all through the day

Exhaling self-loathing, skin milky and pale
demoniac from twisted tongue to forked tail

Feasting upon rats it swallows them whole
a creature mischievous, bloodthirsty and cold

He devours Halloweeners, then all their sweets
surprising passing strangers by yanking their feet -

"I'll yoink your tootsies, tickle your toes
then what next, uh oh who knows?!"

Last Christmas it blinded the neighbours so they couldn't see
burnt the decorations and shat under their tree

The poor little children waking up that following dawn
to bits of their grandparents spread across the lawn -

Oh I can't sleep, scared of my own home
sick of being stuck with this thing all on my own

People are dead and my moral passions to blame
my inability to **** has caused all this pain

So tonight when it crawls from its slumber, I'll be there with my gun

Oh come my sweet little demon, let's have some fun!

- The Wingle Wangle Song -

"Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
Is a wicked little fairy -
bloodshot eyes, a grimy disguise
he doeth not scare me

Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
Bathes in sweat and cold blood -
Sneaks into homes, steals people's bones
Separates the bad from the good

Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
Roams all night, sleeps all day -
A blighter joyous and macabre
so happy and gay

Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
you may dance to all the children's cries -

but beware Wingle Wangle
within a barrel lies your demise."

He slept as the waking sun approached
suspended in time and spaceless animation,
a man seeking to traverse the stars,
he died gazing with eyes of fascination

with a cigarette hanging jauntily from his mouth
and arms hastily folded,
surrounded with charred magazines and empty canteens
slumped, his skin heavily blistered and scolded

his last hours were that of beauty
lost in silence and subdued by its respect,
he knew his time was up
but of this journey he'd never forget -

"It's just.. so.. beautiful, how can I not love these stars?!
To my left lies Earth, to my right glows Mars -"

his ship a silver bullet plummeting towards the pulsing sun
the tragedy of his voyage forever embedded into everyone's minds,
a shadow soiling the pride of humanity,
a catastrophe that we simply cannot leave behind

#BOOM#

#CRACK#

#FLASH!#

feeling infallible we found nothing but failure
yet through bitter determination we still try,
preparing for another man to be sent in the Lieutenant's footsteps
knowing indefinitely that he could die

"LIFT OFF IN... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1 -"

pathetic, egotistic
desires churning out ideas ridiculous, caustic

vying to conquer space, the whole Galaxy,
yet again greed and power drives the human soul -

alas, such does a few lives become expendable

when we seek that one perfect goal.

Eyes as cold as a November's breeze
calculating smile bloated from fame,
his words forge their own meanings
from a tongue barbed and born to inflict pain

over-inflated and bulbous
his self-loving ego is
from within drug fuelled stardom
does his black desire fizz

extroverted and deadly upon recognition
he hides his sinister within songs,
his guitar rules upon the spotlight
whilst his morals in a ****** game of tongues

hookers and dealers saved on speed dial
never would you guess this is a creature from space,
he fell to earth seeking sanctuary
but all he found was pain, war and disgrace - - -

"These creatures are all barbaric,
their love of sensual intimacy coy
Alas I know I really shouldn't,
but of their lifestyle I'm starting to enjoy."

his ship has crumbled to ashes
his hair faded from gold to grey,
this world is like a pack of wolves surrounding him
to a god he knows doesn't exist he prays -

on the first day he learnt to love, cherish our beauty and respect,

on the second day he discovered sin, alcohol, drugs and ***

on the third day he learnt nothing's everlasting, that what you've made must become undone

on the fourth day the haze shifted

he missed his family

oh he missed his home - - -

"The non-existent angels sing
I beg of them to guide me home,
but my ship's burnt, my virginity dead -
#sob#
oh baby what have I become?!"

now he sings songs streaked with cosmic grandeur
to crowds of pathetic earthlings living their dreams
they all love his plastic voice, his hip-swagger and jive
but none really know what the lyrics mean

oh they all think he's amazing, invincible, timeless,
but the truth is far far from their sight,

for when the night sky clears, he sits
and cries for his baby on some planet lost in the night.

I thought about you for a while today,
Imagined all the things I’d like to hear you say.
You said many things I wanted to be true,
And when I fantasized I said, “I love you, too.”

If only I could feel the things you feel,
Are you just a friend, or will more be revealed?
I know I’m not the perfect specimen.
But I love you now, and I will love you till the end.

And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would,
If only you could love me.

I sat in silence with my thoughts today.
And then I practiced all these things you’ll hear me say.
I never knew I had such feelings inside.
I would have said before, if it weren’t for my pride.

The truth is more like that I fear too much,
And do women like their men to be tough?
I wonder maybe if there could be a chance,
If I am bolder, so I’m here to show my stance.

And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would.
If only you could love me.

I knew that if I wore my feelings on my sleeve,
There was a chance that things would change and you would leave.
One in a million lucky few can feel like this.
I want to thank-you.
I love you.
You’re worth the risk.

My heart’s not broken, but it’s fortified.
You’ve taught me lessons, you brought joy to my life.
You’ve shown me kindness, and when to let go.
And lots of other things, I think you should know.

I have to tell you all these words I’ve said
Have just been swimming loudly ‘round in my head.
I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.
I am in love, even though you’re probably not.

And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would.
If only you could love me.

I knew that if I wore my feelings on my sleeve,
There was a chance that things would change and you would leave.
One in a million lucky few can feel like this.
I want to thank-you.
I love you.
You’re worth the risk.

Was writing for a musician friend, a guitarist, to see what he could do. Negotiations are on the table. Lyrics completed dec. 29, 2015. All copywrites reserved by the writer.

Is it love or is it lies?
Perhaps both, or neither,
Inflamed by need,
Quenched by self,
Swollen with desire.
Imagination fans the fire
Until the floorboards creak outside my door
- Then I brink for her no more.

Thorefin,
Therifen,
Theraphin,
Raven Angel.
I do not expect
you to undestand.

I am he.
He is me.
She are we.
We are thee,
And there are more.
I do not think
This is something
Ordinary men conceive.

All the paintings of darkness
Are not to impress upon the critics
The level of my shallow depth,
Nor are my phrasings for the sake of vanity.

It is the darkness that gives lessons to the light, of things that I am not afraid to learn.

Like a papillon in a  season of change,
I am transformed into a dark lamp,
For I  have stood in many shadows.

I have soaked up the knowledge.

In my shadow,
Illumination awaits.

Three thumbs,
an inverted nose -
the socket dilapidated and hollow
from which her left arm grows;

yet, quietly she breathes,
whilst her life-support machine hums,
chewing on her sixth finger
from a mouth with no gums.

The accidental off-spring
of one belated wife
and one related groom -
a nightmarish parody,
twisted from the bruises of a womb -

but, by miracle, she lives
crying from eyes that won't close -
a new-born child
with the face of a blackened rose;

and outside,
out of raging curiosity,
the whole world queues,
trying to see the baby in the little red shoes.

Would it be so bad if it dies?
Would it be so bad
not to hear its gurgling cries?

Or would you want it to live,
take away its self-respect,
just like a thief,
force it to live in a life
of ridiculing grief -

What would you choose
for the deformed child in the little red shoes?