Wild was the mass superiority,
Invincibility's cherished messy fraud.
Wrath coloured warning crimson wrote Justice.
People watched as Mercy perished.
Gin lady lowers her lips by the skin of Reedy Lake
Across and further inside
Wood to share
Silence of the creek
Life that hid and flourished
Grounds for the winding road.
Three hours wheeled
A stormy ride in the night.
The blindness of lightning strikes.
Close your eyes
For the flames of deeper under.
Blindness breaks in a spark on the pan.
Thunder shatters the sky.
There are so many experiences to observe without using your plain sight. I thought about this while taking a quick roadtrip up north in Queensland. I saw some of the aftermath of the bushfires. Burnt barks and leaves gone. Marooned soil off-road. People experienced a lot more than that.
Stare yourself down
Just avoid the eyes, let's not make this personal
Soak in the amplified reflection
Feed on your favourite highlights
Toss away the bones for the starving to chew
Capture this moment, forever flawless
Give the poor a feast for the eyes
You shine so bright
They will follow you little star
Hang off a string and lead them
They'll claw at your skin but never embrace you
They'll chomp at your flesh and leave a rotting core
You choose lust over love...
Trade self worth for compliments
Well then swallow your soul and drown in their praise
It will never be enough.
Self made instagram models...I see you, I see you.
Almost all the crap in my life
Is something I’ve done wrong;
Bad decisions I have made
As I stumbled my way along.
When I was an adolescent
I blamed my stuff on others;
My peers, friends and brothers.
I made up stories and finger-pointed.
Soon nobody wanted to trust me,
My social posture became disjointed.
Was it all of them or was it just me?
I taught myself to quickly lie
And to make elaborate excuses.
It’s almost like I had no gift
To live without ****-saving ruses.
Early I learned polite society
Would not say to my face.
That my sense of personal ethics
Had become a huge disgrace.
Folks smiled and said empty words.
None had the care and grace to say
They’d quickly check their watches
If I told them the time of day.
But only for a certain time
Can this kind of crass stupidity
Avoid even my devious vision.
It stole from them and from me.
Sooner or later, even my hard head
Had to want the truth and admit
The book of my life was being read
And my lies were a huge part of it.
How are things at the country club?
Was the glitter group too much?
Was that hot young rock star there?
Did you try to get in touch?
Did you catch the ear of
That famous new playwright?
Did the paparazzi catch your act?
Did you do your thing tonight?
Who got mad and who got drunk?
Give me all the dirt.
Who got ****** and struck a blow
And, oh yes, who got hurt?
You see now I understand;
I’m your after dinner lover.
When you’re going somewhere publicly
You find yourself another.
And I guess that’s just not good enough
To keep me satisfied.
To be the after dinner rose
You tried so hard to hide.
So call up Central Casting
And find yourself another.
For I am not content to be
Your after dinner lover.
CERCA 1972 After one of Bobby Allan's dreadful soirees.