He'd crashed to a place he didn't belong
where Angels were aliens and gods were dust -
legs shaking violently, he climbed the ship's hatch
and swung open it's steel door with a ******

his ship was a lump of twisted metal
broken and resolute, he stood upon the brink of nowhere,
three Suns bearing down upon the crimson land
as swarms of transparent entities gyrated through the air

no sound except the crackling static of his radio
helmet concave in several places and three broken fingers attached to his hand -
but 'twas his heart that was most damaged
the blood within feeling like that of this otherworldly sand

scratching and grating the walls of his arteries
darting needles shooting up and down his body
transmission dead, no one to cry to,
his tears dripping onto a visor filthy and foggy

with no aim he wandered
legs carrying him forward to a destination afar,
back shrieking and knees creaking, still he walked
the volcanic crater in the distance beckoning like a star

the days were dead and Time itself subdued
the Suns above had dawned over six times, alas he knew not how many days had passed
only counting down from his oxygen level
which had now reached its very last

"Oh mission control, don't send anyone else after me
these lands are charred dead, and I have taken my last breath
---
to send a man to this pitiless wasteland
would be to condemn him to his death."

[oh how many miles can an Angel fall]

Alas the fools on Earth had already drafted up plans and theories to get him back
acting not out of care but sorry guilt

[how far will we go just to gain it all]

for they all knew it was inferior materials
from which the Lieutenant's Shute had been built -

His life had been considered cheap
their neglect preposterous, a vile humanitarian crime -
now they desperately scramble for a solution
that none of us will ever find

[we succumb to our selfish minds, morals and beliefs neglected]

[abandoned, left behind]

something happened the second he died
spirit rose from his body, sparkled, shot up into the sky -

the hiding creatures emerged
circling the ground where his body did lie

they removed his helmet, kissed his skull
covered his body with sand -

and for reasons obscure, unknown, they silently caressed the three broken fingers

attached to Lieutenants dead limp hand.

I pass bins bloated and stinking
dead pigeons squashed 'n rotting on the floor,
I pass the rich, the greed-infested
sniggering entities dancing on the backs of the poor

I pass dogs nailed high upon billboards
apartments riddled with flies,
out in the distance a stray cat whines
curdled with the sound of a child's cries

I pass drug addicts sneering and leering
arms pock-marked and bruised -
through ***, drugs and addiction
obsessive compulsive dispositions are infused

ecstasy the fuel to the stars beyond
to a world way better than our own;
through poisoned hope and substance abuse, upon our brains
the stye of sickness has grown

[music blaring formulated and fascist
Oh save me ground control! Ashes to ashes]

for is it any wonder I rot from inside
doomed to death by a heart blackened and sore?
Crawling along, the carrions line up on the horizon -
my cuts bleed, my bones ache, pain this body can't take anymore

nineteen years I've waited to be loved
alas nothing but a crass compassion that neglects

oh please -
please tell me
I'm not destined to live like these rejects?

["I'm so happy... hope you're happy too"]

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.

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?

Birds sing upon the amber hues of dawn
the faint Northern breeze wakes with a windy yawn,
buttercups and daisies bloom and flower
the smell of freshly cut grass tangy and dour

alarm clocks and phones ring in symphony
as the early AM commuters arise limply;
taxis beep, buses groan
widows and homeless eat breakfast alone

coffee boils as the hungover quench their thirst
the fools that are late panic and curse -
some people awake to a strangers flat, whilst
others on the street to the lick of a cat

many awaken to the calls of their sin
sadly their only friend lies within an alcoholic drink,
their minds and brains addiction submerge
of suicide they stand upon the ever-crumbling verge

and thus I lie awake every night
fearing the future that somehow dances from my sight;
depression and utter disgust tempt me to give in
it claws at my stomach, grinds my bones from within

are we doomed to living our days exactly the same
to live a repetition so precise it'll drive us insane?

It seems in this darkness we stumble, we *****,
the light flitting from between our fingers that calls itself hope.

Charlie's at the wheel
Charlie tries to think of a joke //-

[N-Na-Na-Na-N-Now]

Charlie doesn't feel
Charlie wants another sniff of the coke

[N-Na-Na-Na-N-Now]

the skies above are leaden grey
It's dull light shines off his hair,
Charlie doesn't listen to what other people say -
Charlie doesn't really care

[N-Na-Na-Na-N-Now]

smoke pours as the engine sputters
the clutch burns at his feet
from within an ecstasy trance he mutters
slowly to the edge the car begins to creep

[N-Na-Na-Na-N-Now]

oh Charlie's afraid of his arrogance
Charlie thinks he won't bleed -
Charlie's afraid of his adolescence
in his mind Charlie sows the seed -

[N-Na-Na-Na-N-Now]

now he'll tell you how he feels
he feels his insides are rotten dead!
He's sick of this world that steals
they say it's all in his head!!!

[IN HIS]

[IN HIS HEAD]

[N-Na-Na-Na-N-Now]

Charlie's at the wheel
Charlie remembers an old joke

the car tips over the ravine edge
upon his ***** Charlie does gag and choke.

Silence is the comfort of a conflicts hush
silence is the sound of a dead crows caw
silence ain't abatable, so don't even try
silence is thy lord's voice and his word is law

It's unquestionable, deadly, doesn't care what it kills
a force gradual and steady, from the dark our night it fills
it reeks of loneliness whilst exhuming sweet beauty
modest and loyal, quietly it does its hidden duty

crying through eyes non-existent
it's love invisible, so painfully distant
all alone, comfort gone from that old favourite song,
it's presence tranquil, opening your eyes to where you went wrong

It's neutral, doesn't take sides or excuses
a poignancy so strong, bitter and raw
twisted, life and death somehow entwined
I gazed upon its face and 'twas the most beautiful thing I've ever saw

- - - -

a vision flickering like a fuse in an abandoned house
it's rooms gas filled, primed for explosion -

I sleep and walk amongst the fields of dreams
as silence drips upon life and starts its graceless erosion.

AJ

They put a bullet in my brain but I ain't quite dead
my breath minute wisps upon the November air
full of cosmic flatulence my honour has fallen
my hands burn blue but I simply don't care

oh if I were to kiss the canal's waters below
what would become of my confused soul,
if only the light of hope would shine bright enough
maybe I could crawl from this hole in which I've grown

the stars are all out tonight,
they laugh at my grimy complexion
my stomach groans in hunger
my bladder bloated and sore from water retention

I married Death and I killed it's brother
from the womb it seems I was ******,
once I had it all
but now my life is dead alas here I stand

not knowing what to do
as the nights get colder
frost growing bolder
searching streets for a bed
skin blistered raw red
mind screaming sick
pain writhing, suffering oh please be quick -

in a doorway covered in newspapers and magazines
I curl up into a ball and cry,
thanking my saviours, cursing the gods
oh to live like this I'd rather die.

The beer in my mouth is sour and bitter
but nothing compares to the foul taste of life,
inside my stomach the alcohol curdles
but within my mind I writhe

I'm sick of people thinking
that I'm an idiot, or a 'fruit'
now every night I'm drinking
and that's when the bad thoughts pollute

they weigh me down like bags of sand
tugging upon the waistline above my hip
fracturing my concentration in the day
and into a night of hysteric paranoia I slip

I don't sleep, the hours passed leer
taunting my lack of ability to rest
the strength I was once proud of is gone
my heart's bleeding, sluggish and distressed

never did I think it would happen
but I've found I no longer care,
I pushed aside the poison reaching for my soul
but to my horror I found nothing there

alone in the black October night
never have I felt like this in all my years,
cuddling up to a blanket that's cold
and a pillow damp with tears.

I want God to tell me
how to silence the shadows around,
I need his angels to show me
how to drag myself up from the ground

when everything around you is shattered
broken and resolute, and
the world carries on piling the weights
even though it knows you need a hand

when the people you thought loved you
have played you down to the last pound,
when it's only through humiliation
that the bitter truth is found

am I the only one in this place
who is decent, true and pure
cursed to be a shape-shifting wanderer
wallowing with the sick and poor?

Tell me, does God really exist
and if he does why make this place?

Oh why allow a world so promising
to fill with anger, jealousy and disgrace?

The 21st Century's breaking down
It's evident, and sadly it seems
that simple truth and honesty
are only possible in my dreams.

You're the subject
of a certain sick interest,
a fascination of my mind
that I should undoubtedly detest;
one sin infested bullet
that's wandering and aimless -

and its in my dark dreams, I realise,
only the very shameless
part of me can fulfil this desire,
and to say that I wouldn't have you
is to say that I'm not a liar,

for the resistance I'm putting up
to your distraction,
to this warped sense of magnetism,
and overpowering attraction,
is growing shorter and shorter -

I should cut you away,

but as they say, blood is thicker than water.

From a room empty it shines
surrounded by impermanence and deceit
for my mind is blank and empty
and without poetry I am incomplete

my writing has grown old
the grotesque horror genre stale -
the ideas I once relied on
now cease to all but fail

I can't think of anything to write
I guess I'll be this way for a while
but like music's greatest chameleon
I'll burn it all and crank up the style

[say goodbye to the Beautiful People
say goodbye to all the horror and gore,
I'm completely shedding this harsh skin
because I want to be that flat writer no more]

yes big changes are happening
oh changes are taking place
anticipation runs through my mind
as total reinvention I've finally come to face

so forgive me if I bore you
forgive my absent presence,

for when I finally return
I'll have something extraordinary to present.

Oh consume me sick brethren
wreak havoc and bleed thy sorrow
stalk infatuation with a sniggering smile,
and linger upon every hour of tomorrow

["Do you think the world cares
about your pathetic existence?"]

run fingers along dusty windowsills
cry away from the footfalls of the dead
spray your hair black, paint on your best face
from the shadows morals and innocence are shed

["You're just another freak
so give up this futile resistance."]

take your conscience by its swollen throat
saturate it in fury to stifle its desperate cries,
seeking vengeance you're killing strangers and
cutting yourself off to block out the swarming flies

blackened and bruised, you leer from the corners
and blow dreams to pieces,

["Oh come with me child" the Vampyre did rasp
"to the divide where insanity and reality creases."]

languish in frustration,
take out anyone in sight,
**** your pistol and get your trusty hook
go forth monster, and paint red the night.

She saunters down the catwalk
clad in a dress of the finest rose felt;
in the throes of her sheer brilliancy,
stages start to shimmer and the crowds begin to melt.

A raw uncut diamond, glinting,
stood out against a line of glamorised crows;
through the transparency of make-up,
her natural beauty still sparkles and shows.

Yes she's stunning, that's how she caught my eye -
but loving someone solely on looks
is like playing Russian roulette with a broken lie,

it was that little flutter in my chest
that made her the girl I eventually chose -

her beauty blooms from deep within,
a purity of such embellished upon the petals of a Rose.

Treasure is but a wanderer's lust
seeking utopia amongst the cosmic stars
it's year 2025, humanity's golden age of technology,
and a little white spaceship sets off to colonise Mars

nicknamed Nova 2, she boasts twin light-speed thrusters
polarised windscreens and a body of pure ceramite -
with a whoosh and a deafening bang
she smashes the sound barrier and streaks through the night

[#WHAM! BAM! FLASH!#]

at twenty-two hours they pass the moon
avoid a cluster of meteorite and space debris,
venturing deeper and deeper into the abyss of nothingness
their minds awestruck, their weary souls free

faced with a darkness that was un-shiftable, heavy
the danger of this mission increasingly daunting,
the longer they ignored their fears
the more the alien wilderness became haunting

what if they suddenly stopped dead
hit a snag or ran out of power?
They only had limited supplies
and the absent sun grew hotter and hotter by the hour

with the silence incessant
the sound of their own voices was obtrusive, grating,
food disgustingly vile, water going warm,
pressure steadily rising, there were concerns of the pilot fainting

--// "CALLING ELISA STARR TO THE CABIN PLEASE." //--

Elisa Starr was the cabin's dutiful cleaner
she'd clear away the astronauts *******, and occasionally mop up their sick -
for most of the crew had adapted to the lack of gravity
alas a few individuals hadn't been as quick

only 3 months in and the air had already grown stale
smelling of faint excretion and sweat,
aching and tired, she was always wiping down the interior windows
as the condensation steamed them up wet

what was the point in coming to space to slave away
when she could just do it on Earth;
once a valued member of society, a highly respectable mother of three,
surely this gruelling slavery she didn't deserve?

-//-----//-

The glowing red sphere of Mars approaches,
their destination finally (finally!) in range -
Earth was dying and this is a chance for us to start again

but isn't it already clear that we'll never change?

I gathered up my thoughts, and
gazed upon the waters of reflection,
serendipity shimmered cross its surface
I gasp, struck by the beauty of its perfection

transfixed on the little ripples and rivulets
splishing, splashing and weaving
clouds did gather above, the rain began to fall,
I sunk to my knees unawares I was bleeding

vision blurred with tears,
head swollen and aching from the cold,
I awoke this morning with no aim, but a destination,
and down this valley lane I strolled

I can no longer cook for myself, nor wash
and my hair has all but gone
some days it's as if nothing's happened
and others I know not my name nor where I'm from

my wife is long dead, my only grandchild, waits
ah, greed was always a perpetual enchanter -

alas none of this matters when you hear

"I'm sorry to say, sir, it is terminal pancreatic cancer."

And now gazing across the dewy grass
to the opposite side of the lake,
I reminisce the good times, the simple highlights
of this beautiful life Death will eventually take,

stone-cold realisation setting in for the last time
that soon I'll be gone, I know by the blood

tick tock Death, please don't be late,

I'm ready to be reunited with my Love.

I add insult to injury and bleed into the glass
they've starved this world and left me 'til last,
only through alcohol and drugs can I truly escape
but now I sit here knowing it's all too little, too late,

I tried curing them with injections of compassion and remorse
alas they only mocked me with smiles that were forced,
with greedy eyes that lingered upon my untainted flesh
'twas clear their resentment was caustic, broodingly fresh

hating their bodies and all that could be seen
so precociously perfect, but with souls disgustingly unclean
infected with an obsession mutating into disease
humanity swallowed by the cravings they strived to appease

they are the Beautiful People, yes I have spoken of them before,
but I must mention their ghastly existence once forever more,
for now I have been abandoned in this world barren and dead
my body digests itself as my nose and ears drip red

I'm not well, my skin has grown pallid and lumpy
my fingers twisted, knobbly and clumpy
they scream in the night, they scream in my head
my mind polluted with the paranoia the drugs have bred //--

[come with me, take my hand
I will lead you to the promised land]

wind howling, breathing heavy, lazy
visions of hope going increasing hazy //--

oh please-

please-

listen to me before my conscience fully dies

whatever you do //-


DON'T LOOK INTO THEIR EYES!

I add insult to injury and bleed into the glass
O2 reserve blinks on, the time to turn back passed,
stuck in this metal shell of stale air and sweat
protein packs and old newspapers the only luxuries I get

["Sir... we've lost contact with Nova 2-"
"What?! We'll bring her back if it's the last thing we do."]

I light a cigarette, let the smoke linger,
flinch as the stub burns down to my finger -
the idiots said there was nothin' to fear,
said there was absolutely no chance I would ever get stuck out here

So why have the engines stopped, dead silent and dry?
Transmission's dead, no one to hear me cry -

the stars around light my troubled, ecstatic, nightmares
as polarised glass shields me from a sun that arrogantly stares

[720 degrees and counting
various alarms at home screaming, shouting]

it's fat, it's bulbous, from violence born and bred
the heat sears and it's not long before these walls start glowing red,
water near gone, papers reduced to ashes
outside something gives way and crashes

---//-/--

surprised to be alive, well my heart still beats, if you can call that living
I'm down to the last cigarette, the protein vendor's stopped giving,
lighter's broke, along with most stuff inside,
but I can still light it using the heat from outside

[at home they try using sonar, think the problem's sorted -
argh but the ship's stationery- no longer in orbit!]

I hope they find me soon, y-yeah 'course they will

surviving has always been my best skill

--///-////--

but my skin has blistered, eyes near closed
it's boiling but somehow most of my body's froze -
finally the exhaustion kicks in, biting --//-
the puny drive to live    fighting

[through evaporating tears]

breathing by instinct

mind growing more  and more   distant

smoke lulling, so sweet

'spose it-

[YAWN]

it won't hurt to have     have just a little        sleep -//----/

My heart bleeds, oh friend can you hear it cry?
Strength gone, pride shrivelled up to die,
ignorance, fear; the only defences I've known
shuttering up that place where hope should have grown

dreams plagued with her beauty, and lure
I breathe from a body indulgent, impure
her eyes bite, her voice hits with a fist,
fangs protrude from the mouth I have countlessly kissed

the sun does shine but my mood still wanes
not my fault yet it's myself I still blame,
am not good enough, do I not appeal
will she spit humiliation upon me as I beg and kneel

will she take me in her arms, kiss me, say it's alright
will she caress my blackened heart, love me all through the night
will she **** the voices that tempt me to sin
will she be mine to keep, if only I could win

or will she burn me in the fires of rejection
**** me off into a world of deceit and deception -

a question that burns like an ember within my brain,
do I really want to know if she feels the same?

AJ

I was born with the sun shining upon my skin
I was born into a world saturated with sin
pestilence shone, through his void grinned
for the second I broke from the womb the sky above dimmed

birthed not from a mother but a sick man
my coming heralded an end, the age of apostasy began -
those I loved killed by the evil inside
cursed by a Devils backbone, there was no where to hide

[but inside their minds]

now I live with the beautiful people and their screeching cries
I avoid their clumpy fingers, their black empty eyes,
vying for flesh and choking upon lungs of rubber
floating with a ghastly gracefulness that makes the north wind shudder

[bullet wounds
gunshot holes -]

with the devil inside I know only fear
knowing nothing of love, my soul bedridden and queer -

[maggots and live thriving
between fleshy folds]

in the distance a woman cries, piercing the silence like a bell

surely that can't be -
surely that can't be the scent of *** I smell?

Alas 'twas only wishful thinking, my pretence playing unfair,
the beautiful people finally had prey and were stripping her bones bare -

ruthless, ecstatic, bodies twisted and vile
clutching strips of flesh only then did they laugh and smile.

You're pretty and you know it
using those glassy eyes to tame -
my heart's suckered 'n you know it,
post-*** love purely (surely?) to blame

my mind melts as I grow weak at the knees
your gaze flitting from sultry to predatory -
blood gushes, adrenalin flushes
sweat dripping upon my skin lust-crazy, expectedly

oh I'll burn these nervy butterflies
with this blistering searing fury,
argh, stop this Pretence girl
'cause it's just starting to bore me -

Mind Control to Inner Soul;
"what's your status?"

Inner Soul to Mind Control;
"help! The guts are dead and the heart is fractured!!!"

my body slowly dying, polluted sick
with the caustic affection you instil
"WARNING; cytoplasmic deterioration imminent -
extreme ******-***** overkill!"

for now I know I must give up the chase
the Neurones have received a final transmission (oh please no, it can't be);

"This is .. Inner Soul to Mind Control..
we're all so tired.. so tired .. so .. sleepy - - -"

*CLICK

Hurtling towards Earth, a black catacomb
alight and bright crashing through the stars,
encrusted with web-strung spores crawling, bloated,
seething with giant skeletal arachnids from Mars

pincers snap-snap-a-snapping in tuneless melody,
vying for the taste of air and wet flesh
with eyes frail, skin milky and pale,
regurgitating from throbbing juggernaut *******

ruled by a mother predatory and spoilt
soft flesh under her carapace sagging and gravid,
feasting upon her own scuttling children
injecting pain sultry and rabid,

baying for blood
sweat dripping off her charred shell
she hoists herself up on spindly legs
drags herself from the pits of hell

[she begged for my love but
instead I gave her a dangerous smile -
now she rots in outer space
up into the black 'bout a hundred mile]

round 'n round she spins a web
wreathed in skulls and threats galore,
in a meteor she fell from Heaven
and she's here with the spiders, of that I'm very sure

dead but wholly alive
encapsulated within an eight-legged freak,
inhuman screeches upon the wind
her vengeance and caustic fury shrieks

Am I to feel the bite of poised fangs?
Am I to be cursed by the darkness from where she hangs?

Will she lurk beneath one of my many beds
my insides to crawl with her hairy legs -

I loved her then, I love her now
alas jealousy drives us apart

she passed me her trusting love

-

I drove its shattered blade deep into her heart.

I walk amongst the beautiful people
hide my face within the shadows around,
with lungs of rubber and skin that's latex
they drift about our world without a sound

[so deliciously dark
twisted and vile
they grin from faces ghastly
rotting and puerile]

formerly they were perfect humans
whose selfishness strived for more,
so they re-constructed their bodies and faces
using skin harvested from the dead and poor

[bullet wounds
gunshot holes
maggots and lice thriving
between fleshy folds]

organs replaced with mechanical components
immortality sewn together with surgical stitches,
greed and jealousy bloomed inside our narrow minds
thus we began practicing the work of witches

but the stolen skin rotted upon their ancient bodies
leaving their yellowing, pestilent, bones bare -
to defy death plastic and rubber were used as replacements
but of mortality they were now forever aware

[clumpy fingers, bloodshot eyes
midnight dreams plagued with their shrieking cries]

for upon the pursuit of immortal living
we lost the people we once used to be -

now I flee their hungry gazes and grabbing fingers
living only with empty shadows for bittersweet company.

We are the ghosts of things to come
we are the stars that shine amongst the sun
our souls devine, ours to keep
'tis only when Death calls will we truly sleep

for Time is the enigma of days been and gone
aspiration is what spurs us on,
Mother Nature whispers, from the silence she speaks
from the caw of a crow to the tree that creaks

we are the Vampires of wealth and splendour
we have it all but still we want more
as the world burns, its shell charred and weak,
we turn upon ourselves, bicker and bleat

patience a virtue long-lost and dead
anger and vengeance stain our streets red,
with bitter jealousy we snag and maim
knowing whose fault it is but still others we blame

we are the pioneers of devastation to come
we seek peace and perfection from the barrel of a gun -
the time of change and redemption has come to pass,
we spoke the Lord's name in vain,

so may these days be our last.

As a kid he was odd,
a collector of scraps and small animal bones
a snivelling creature of the night,
he'd scurry about and hang around people's homes,

the wind would caress his hair as the dawning sun shone
on his tatty corduroy trousers and shirt,
like any other normal boy, he'd catch freaky insects
and make gross pies out of wet dirt

but that beaming toothless smile
suppressed a sadness so intense it twisted itself into pain;
from slimy cocoons latched onto his stomach
flew out wicker-work butterflies of fear and disdain

for, every night he would lie awake,
shivering in cold sweat
paralysed in terror, too scared to scream
as the thing of nightmares drawled beneath his bed

with a CRUNCH and a sickening SNAP,
it would feast upon his collection of dry animal bones
then slink off into the darkness
to raid all the other neighbouring homes

alas it was only a matter of time
'til his parents stumbled across the source of his dread -
the apothecary of horror descending upon their helpless souls
draining their bodies dry and leaving them for dead

turning to face the boy for the first time
blood dribbling down its lumpy chin
it's eyes burning, luminescent and yellow,
as maggots and ticks burrowed in its skin

"Why do you not turn away child, succumb to your fear and face thee?"
The Vampyre rasped, it's voice high with amusement
"Who could dare stare into my eyes and not scream?"

and the boy's answer was simple
so simple it took the creature by complete surprise;
"Why should I fear you, when I don't fear death itself?"
And with this the boy gestured towards the first light of sunrise,

and as the Vampyre swooped in
to take his last breath
he smiled, embraced the decrepit creature
welcoming the chilling kiss of Death.

AJ

This world's black, bloated and cold
it seems our God is now cracked
worthless and old

nothing cares, love ceases to exist
yet, within this cess-pit
we continue to persist

for the human race is stubborn
never one to give up -
surviving within the harshest of places
'til death forces our eyes shut

we live on massacre, feast upon woe
at one point we found happiness
but refused to let it grow

we **** our enemies, and ourselves
stock the deadliest weapons
upon supermarket and high-street shelves

we punish the innocent, worship the liars
pretty killers and fascists -
we lend a hand to simultaneously
reduce this civilisation to smouldering ashes

freedom fighters, ******, drugs
this sick infatuation with *** -

thanks, but no thanks
I don't wanna live 'cause no doubt I'll be next.

I think I'm gonna buy myself a bomb
to destroy this blasé mirage,
with a mortuaries brush and a bullet
I'll paint myself in blood to camouflage

the scars of belief etched upon
my scowling, juvenile face
a brainwashed idiocratic believer
following the languishing entity far up in space -

conscience ridden with bruises and hickies
flesh burns, prickles and stings
I'm merely a pawn, deluded with disdain,
one of thy lord's pathetic playthings

I don't need no one, anyone,
I'm the sole writer of my fate
the world will crumble 'neath my feet
as the Angels weep at it's sorry state

I'll **** the blood from life's
bare, fresh-skinned neck
piercing jugulars, cavorting with insanity
pulling continuous jokers from within my deck

and then you know what I'll do next?
As I push myself to the crowd's fore?
I'll active the dynamite strapped to my chest
and blow my writhing guts all over the floor -

Oh

I think I'm gonna buy myself a bomb,
hide the detonator in the waistband just above my hip,
then I'm gonna board a flight to America
and pay tribute to the despotic ruler I worship.

A gem now forever taken away,
her disappearance shrouded with lies;
a psychotic mother pulling the strings
using mental illness as a tool for her disguise.

One disgustingly twisted Succubus,
neglecting her only daughter, an unwanted child,
unable to control an anger
blistering within and furiously wild.

Emma was the girl's sweet name,
she was beautiful and normal
but unfortunately her mother was completely insane -

not caring for her daughter
she drowned her in ***** bath water,
thus from then on things spiralled into blackened disdain.

And sometimes I lie awake, stare at the blank ceiling,
wishing the girl had never been born
thinking, perhaps, that the arrow of death might've missed her -

sometimes I lie awake at night,

and cry for my beautiful late sister.

The world flies past before me
nagging fear growing more and more transparent,
hiking back breaths to stop feeling sick
as the journey lengthens, my panic becomes apparent,

I never loved my creator, still I wanted to go back
to stare the evil I fear in its soured face
'fore it finally gathers up its silken Cape and drifts
up into the night, leaving behind only its vile taste,

spawned from the pressures of society
and the kiss of insanity, such is its need dire -
speaking like a god, loving like a machine,
sewing together its threads like a manipulative liar

god only knows why the bloated womb of life
threw up this pathetic excuse of a being,
and one may surmise myself bitter and twisted
but dear you can't see what I'm seeing,

she's a Vampyre of time and space itself
the parasite that preys more upon my mind with every passing year,
as the world around greys, along with my fractured heart,
the questions of How What and Why grow ever-more sincere

but as I stand before my late birth-mother,
her face not that of evil or a Vampyre, but of a woman riddled with fear -
I realise the anger I feel now mimics her own past demons
and that my judgement was dispelled by a single, bitter tear

[How was I such a fool
to willingly become so heartless and cruel?]

yes she took away my beautiful sister
but blood runs thick, sorrow's carried upon the wings of a Dove,
and now in her time of need, instead of asking questions
I'll simply shower her with my undying love.

[Sometimes it's easier to forgive and let go
because only then can love really show]

Two o'clock in the morning
and again I can't sleep
my IPod's playin' the internet's callin'
I wanna indulge, I wanna just weep

when you can play out your fantasies
of sordid lust and rough *** through
a video player on your phone, all on your own
or get the real thing with a text

midnight conversations of the perverse kind
desperate ***** hookers whispering in your ear,
Tommy Gunn licks Rosie's behind as she
burns your libido with that naughty sumptuous leer

as a teenager it was fun, apparently normal
but you know it's become a problem when
you're calling lights-out at twelve
but falling asleep at two-thirty AM

once you had to pay, now it's free,
festering in the crevices of the Web
swollen, bloated and growing
from its dank hiding place it begins to ebb

a drug manufactured from
the vilest sins of the mind
prefabricated drool, a vice blackened and cruel
forbidden but not exactly hard to find

---

now here I lie
my flesh blistered and rubbed raw
fat tears run down my face
but not knowin' what it is I'm crying for.

Strapped and bound to the wall
a game of ******* and chains, as
solitude light casts shadows
on an abomination's remains,

I gaze into the mirror on the wall
my troubled face pasty as sour milk
and the laughing glass laughs, taunting
from beneath a surface as smooth as silk

for within its nether-twine frame
thy carbon copy mimics my reflection
spun from a festering web of sorrow,
and tainted by prolific perfection

the accusations of people that have been cast
through my estranged blood it runs,
for bending both ways is despicable
and to do so I might as well kiss their loaded guns

and as I stare at my sorry reflection
I see juvenility, excitement and confusion
daggers of shame piercing my eyes,
the skin around blackening from their intrusion, and pathetic lies

oh yes change is strange
and as humans we naturally fear
but love is such a word now often unheard
causing the laughing glass to leer

and now when I look at myself
I don't see who I truly am,
that, beyond their cackles and conniving remarks,
I am actually so much more than -

I see a stranger, a ******, a mistaken queer,
the number one prestigious freak -

but from the shadows I will rise
and from my heart I will finally speak.

I'd give up eternity
to see you,
of the fortunes of gold,
of undeniable power and might -
I'd give up,
you were my everlasting light.

From this world,
you're now absent -
that mellow morning you parted,
my heart, it's bleeding
so did started.

Sophie,
you were my one,
my only trophy.

Sophie,
you're now one in a thousand,
but still my only.

Now you have no colour
in your cheeks,
your body has been dry
for almost several weeks,
and your once perfumed breath
now rots and reeks.

Sophie,
you've grown so bony,
your golden hair now looks fake,
so thin and phony -
but although you're now dancing
with Death,
and breathing that rotten breath,

Sophie,
you'll always be my one,
you'll always be my only.

WARNING - Hints at suicide

Corpses floating slowly above the waters,
swollen and bloated pachyderms -
my dreams curdled septic and dying
polluted to death with stagnant germs

so many of my ideas and glittering hopes
now smothered, tainted vile,
the insides of my twisted and torturous soul
just stinking, liquified to nothing but bile

countless negatives and secrets
past and present unwanted strangers,
bringing both temptation and sin;
writhing with sumptuously naked dangers,

sometimes I get fleeting thoughts that seem promising,
break into my mind shouting "Como Estas?"
Alas, within a few seconds they stick
in the large web where everything rots and festers

for my mind is sick,
demonic giggles echo down the corridors of my head -

just another ****** night

where I wish I was dead.

AJ

[Inspired by Them Crooked Vultures; Elephants - "Pachyderms of germs, unable to hide or even dream of it." One brilliant song]

Meet Doctor Montgomery
with medical science he knows best -
a figure that some worship
and others detest,

for in 1974 he was revelling in his prime,
studying Biological Science at Oxford university
life was smooth and incredibly sublime.

Alas, he fell as a ****** addict,
seeking hidden answers,
that not even modern science could predict,

performing back-street abortions
bringing in the money -
by 1976 addiction was in full swing
and his wife had noticed something funny

and upon the Eve of that Halloween
she'd just had enough -
took the axe from out back to his study
but the blade was blunt and the oak door too tough

however her efforts were in vain
as Charles immediately opened up to greet her -

"My love, look -" He whispered,
gesturing to his centrepiece glass table
whereupon sat
a linen covered cradle -

slowly she peered in,
ignoring his entranced stares -
and what she saw wrapped in blankets,
was the seed of nightmares.

For Charles Montgomery
had been practicing the work of witches;
collecting deceased babies,
and sewing life together with surgical stitches -

"Do you like it? I made it for you..."

She gazes around, speechless,
eyes blurry with stars -
shelves and cabinets full
of body parts preserved in jam jars

throwing up at his feet,
going mad with depravation -

"Oh Charles -

IT'S AN ABOMINATION!!!"

A gem now forever taken away,
her disappearance shrouded with lies;
a psychotic mother pulling the strings
using mental illness as a tool for her disguise.

One disgustingly twisted Succubus,
neglecting her only daughter, an unwanted child,
unable to control an anger
blistering within and furiously wild.

Emma was the girl's sweet name,
she was beautiful and normal
but unfortunately her mother was completely insane -

not caring for her daughter
she drowned her in ***** bath water,
thus from then on things spiralled into blackened disdain.

And sometimes I lie awake, stare at the blank ceiling,
wishing the girl had never been born
thinking, perhaps, that the arrow of death might've missed her -

sometimes I lie awake at night,

and cry for my beautiful late sister.

AJ

[For you, wherever you are X]

You're selfless,
but within this empty world of ours
you're also helpless,

ignoring the common lines
and only standing for what's true;
going above and beyond
doing way more than you're obliged to do...

but you're swamped,
in a sea of dangerous excess,
surrounded by a spoilt society
that's egotistic and feckless -

they'll take advantage,
smile with bated teeth and even hug;
kiss, ***** you right over
name the whole obscenity Love

and the harsh truth is,
they don't ******* care

for when it's you that falls,

they won't be there.

I had a dream of things that
could sometime be -
one sharp glimpse across
shimmering waters of an other-worldly sea,

with skies of the brightest blue
and fields of emerald-infused wild grass,
a field of dreams that's so pure
amidst a world that's sardonic and sickeningly crass

come join me my friend, sleep away
from a world that burns, and a life infatuated with gloom,
run through fields of clover and lilies
and buds swollen and golden, ready to bloom,

O' frolic upon crisp-white clouds
soar with me through the sky,
just enjoy this sweet paradise for all it's worth
ignore the fact that all you see here is a lie -

be grateful that you can escape
to this place with no sin,
for once you finally awake

you'll be plunged into a world you no longer want to live in.

She hides from her mother
ignores her dad,
she dwells within loss
and all things sad

her stomach's sick in the morning
she doesn't know why,
oh, she locks herself away
to break down and cry

heart jitters -
throat chokes in a lump -
every time her mind strays
to thoughts of her body's little flat bump

knowing what it might be
paranoid about how much it shows,
fooling herself no one will notice
even if it grows -

alas her head swells
sick with clotted disdain
no she can't carry on -
can't carry on with the pain

so up she opens to her parents
tears flowing from both eyes
unmasking the secret
that for months she's disguised

distraught, weeping,
the sordid act now told,
her mother heartbroken
her father disgusted but bold

"There's only one thing to do,"
he muttered with a voice that was hoarse
and down the ****** route of abortion
did they both start to course

her mother weak, pleading,
begging her daughter to think again -
her father furious, saying don't be so stupid
she's only the age of ten

and so Alice had enough
buckled and snapped,
her lust for life
sorrows parasite finally sapped

off the city bridge, into the icy water
did she jump and dive -

now encapsulated within the womb of death,
that keeps both mother and child alive.

When your face drains to white
and black grows around your eyes,
when you continue to live in mid-night songs,
even as your heart beat becomes a surprise.

When the weekend's velveteen fields
are filled with resentment, and stained blue -
every **** text, upon every eve,
two years straight and still I hope it's you.

You were the painful medicine,
replacing my October-distraught sinews,
two hearts beating blindly
one out of synch, starting to confuse;

oh I'm running, I'm crying
and I'm racing the dawning clock -
you're so transfixing, and surprising
lurking where reality stops;

loving you is like loving a blade,
one lone westerner
comforting, stroking, fulfilling his own demise -

I'm useless, pathetic,

and you're still Pretty Crystal Blue Eyes...

A dying sun descends upon the horizon
and a faint northern breeze prowls,
fields of ever-greens and poppies whisper
as in the distance a rogue wolf howls

a lone ray of golden light fades and rises
as the setting sun gradually goes down
and from within the caverns underneath
a shadowy creature ascends without a sound

humanoid in stature, coal dust and sweat
stained upon its soft grimy skin,
it's heart thumps and shudders erratically
from inside a chest concave and bone-thin

it feasts upon the crying eyes of children
and the ******* of pregnant mothers -
such does it become a mother itself
drawing upon the blood of its many unfortunate lovers

oh but she must find a surrogate
she must find a healthy womb
for the climate is harsh, her body hath perished
waters due to break, the contractions to start soon -

alas all the people flee her horrific presence
too weak to chase in her sorry state;
and as the pain rips open her putrid flesh
the trail of blood down her leg tells her it's too late

so she squats and pushes, pushes, pushes -
intense white lights blinding her eyes
she births her offspring dead
and collapses to her knees in a fit of anguished cries

caught unawares by the first ray of dawn
surrounded by her babies, the end hath finally come -

an earth-shattering scream piercing the diminishing night
as mother and children burn beneath the rising sun.

Jeff's a downtown Circus Clown,
with his bumbling antics
and rib-tickling pranks
he'll never fail
to turn your frown upside down

[Haha!]

Little do you know
Jeff,
he hates the whole sparkling show -
the way he has to dress
gives him mounting humiliation
and unwanted stress

"Whoops-a-Daisy!"
he frequently falls down
"Whoops-a-Daisy!"
after all, he's just a sideshow Clown
that's depressed
and slowly going crazy

[Crazy?]

Yes -

After yesterday's burlesque,
Jeff went home, poisoned his dog,
and left its frothing on his dining room desk

after a few shots of whiskey,
at dusk,
still in his Clown suit
he teetered on the cusp -

'What does he do now?
Where should he go?"

And concluded he should re-visit the beloved Downtown Circus show.

In the morning,
he'll perform on the stage
hide seven tubs of explosive up his sleeve,
and in front of hundreds of laughing spectators
he'll let his whole body blow,
and the best bit of it is -

Nobody will even know.

Make your way on over
don't need to bring nothin'
apart from your best clothes -
I'll work away your worries,
breathe away your woes.

It wasn't what I confessed,
god looks upon me
but I'm far from being blessed.
My heads in a spin,
fingers jiving and jigging
my mind focusing on your soft chin.

Blue eyed monster,
black hair chasing down your back
body to die for,
my heart beating
like a race-horse on a track.

You're chemical treasure
You're tainted but ****,
I'm a Lykos for pleasure
show us your prize
and I'll show you mine.

Blood-red lips, sleek, unmissable
soft pale skin
so smooth, so kissable.

Make your way on over -
I'm a Lykos for pleasure,
a predator for treasure,
and a hungry wolf in full fledged measure.

Drunkards crawl through pools of *****
bruises and mascara smother stripper's eyes,
beneath stale air and drunken haze
ulterior motives and false perceptions are easily disguised

stained beauty slowly curdles
teenage morals gradually decompose, as
****** frustration ignites, burning beneath disco lights
lust blooming like sordid petals of a rose

boys eye girls bra-less and raving
vying for a flash of flesh or ******,
anticipations defy logical explanations
as juvenile love starts to tickle

alcohol brews caustic feelings
lacklustre defences and warped attractions,
some look for relationships and lifetime lovers
whilst others seek mere distractions

escaping the reality of a life
gouging its gnarled nails upon our skin,
the fact that staying weak is easier
tempting us to give in to deviled sin

for what's the point in staying strong,
only to be dragged along upon the floor?

What's the point in living,
when you just don't know what you're living for?

You've taken
                                       what's not yours -
           consuming and sticking to them
                           like germ-ridden spores

                                   You filthy *******
                                      hope you choke on
                       those sly tongues that lilt,
                                   I hope you overdose
                       on your distant inner guilt

                                                         because
                               there was a thousand
                          things you could've done
                           but none could compare
                                                     to this one

Innocent objects,
going about
without care, living normality
obliviously unaware

                           That you were stalking,
                                                       watching,
                          just pawns in your game
                 a living key to your delusions
                                     and personal gain.

                               Where are they now?        
                                   What do you want?

                                                          ­Politics,
                              religion, exclamations
                                     reams upon reams
                    of question marked swirls -
                                         this is human life
                                    you're playing with!

                                                 So give it up,

"Bring Back Our Girls!"

His head lies in the sunlight
grease-paint and mascara smeared in flecks,
passed-out upon room 5's windowsill
whilst all around his friends frolic and have ***

he stinks of Michael Kors'
with his designer suit and dip-dyed hair,
he thinks the girls dig a guy in a suit
but sadly they simply don't care

for class is overrated, manners belated,
he went out looking for a bit
instead he threw up on the karaoke machine
and now he just looks like a ***

disco lights schizophrenic, blinding,
covering his face burning with embarrassment
simple childish fun curdled sour
stumbling through a crowd hurling harassment

passing by drug abusers and rich fixers
taxi cabs beep, run-down and stained,
prostitutes sell in ***** horns and bunny suits -
his need's dire but his wallet's drained

for money can buy pretty much anything
but with one tiny exception -

no amount of printed-paper notes
can buy a life of true, honest, perfection.

He sneaks in the night,
and grinds upon the gristle of your bones -
in a cloak woven from the finest skin,
from the chimney he descends and creeps through your homes.

For old Saint Nick
is the propaganda before the fear,
his legend created to cover
the sick evil that manifests itself into cheer.

What's that thumping on your roof?
Trust me, it ain't no reindeer or adorable little elf -
before you can scream the world's black before you;
just another stolen skull upon his shelf.

For Krampus is one nasty wicked little devil -
so lock your windows, barricade the doors;
with a magic key he enters
his shadow bleeding blood into the snow-dusted floors...

lice jittering in the fur beneath his mangey pits,
and eldritch horns jutting from his head
he's a carnivore of the festive spirit;
his hunger and blood-thirst never truly fed.

And upon the Eve of this coming Christmas
he's got an exciting new trick -

for once he's gonna spare all the naughty children,

and instead devour our beloved old Saint Nick...

Oh what a filthy man!
So vile and besotted,
he'll get at you in any way he can.

Quite simply put;
he's nothing but a ******* -
he'll ***** you right over
and he'll always have the last word.

And there's not a lot
that you can think or say,
that'll gain you the upper hand
or affect him in any way,

for his soul is writhing
with living **** -
******* on your sunlit parade
is his childish idea of fun,

fully immature in one respect,
but completely mature in another,
he'll play with anything
be it his wife,

or his own brother.

And, yeah, there's a thousand things
I can shout, swear or say -
but there's only one word
that can truly describe him in any way;

****.

She whispers in my ear, says love is worth
it's brilliant weight in gold -
for eternity, upon that hot summer's night
to her passion my heart was forever sold.

I loved her then, and I still love her now;
from the first glance we fell under,
with running blood we forged an unbreakable vow.

Except it did break.

Fast forward to the eve of early October,
she's sumptuously massaging the back of my neck -
I'd never felt something so amazing
but back then my confidence was shot, I was a nervous wreck.

Oh but, she's got golden hair that ripples
and azure blue eyes that always entices -
her voice is as rich and slick as mahogany
surrounded by a fragrance of erotically exotic spices,

with teeth almost bleach-white,
and a body I'd have died to caress in the night -
oh that cheeky little smile
that made this mundane life seem more worthwhile,
now shrouded by memories and out of sight

Because, I was a pathetic waste of space -
with my head up my ****, I considered her advances a farce,
alas our friendship ran out of pace.

Now I only dream of what could have been,
for she had the strength that I lack -

oh sweet sweet lord,
how much I'd give to have her back.

[Jet Black]