TWENTY UNTITLED ONES
87-89
I tried to be myself
You accused me of lying
I hope you remember
That you are never prepared
For any sudden change
Of character, climate or surroundings
I want you to know that I saw
How lost you were last night
When I had to pretend to be myself
And you forgot who you were.
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They will be looking for me now
The ones in grey and white
With foreign bodies, casual associations
Through which you and I move like assassins
We wear black because the anti heroes did
We look damn good
Colours show better against darkness
We changed each others' places
Until the very near people
Were promoted to close friends
They will be looking for both of us now
Those in grey and white
I will be where I always am
Crossing my heart in hope
As they move in for the kill.
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You spat, ‘You think you know everything’
I don't
You know more than I
But I do know when not think
And when to stay silent.
=================
True love is very fine tonight
And a pleasure it is to undress with you
In the dark shelter of anothers’ room
But please remember
I am the one
On your left.
I have no words for your beauty
That would not rail against being confined to paper
They should be cut into a midnight sky in fire
With distant suns and falling stars for punctuation
And although I borrow this style
From one who could annihilate the majority of my work
With a quote from his Buddhist Torah
My imitation holds the honour
Of being true
To the precise time of the heart
Measured only by those worthy
Of true admiration
May you both live to overwhelm me forever.
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If I walk away now
I want you to follow
Because I have just learned
The value of where I am going
And I need you there
If you choose to remain behind
Then I will stay
Because you need me here.
===================
Walk anywhere with careful steps
There are no crimes against this state
Stand apart in a crowd
And not be independent at all
Every monument in this city is an obstacle
Every architect an iconoclast
Autumn in concrete, mutilated galleries
Finally dull the primary colours
The geometry of the future lies
Where cities fall and dimensions rise.
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They sit alone in their separate squares and she scares
me dead. We never made love
Until it was too late. We had a baby which froze in water
as soon as I said
I loved it. Live like it is your last summer as a
teenager.
The landscape changes whenever I forget it. Nights spent
by red light
On nitrous oxide, dope and tequila sunrises, days spent
on amphetamine and mescaline
Praise from the lunatic competition-we are all equal in
madness, enchanted I'm sure.
It gets late while we wait. O drive me home and let me
sit in the back
Like a stoned young lord in exile. Returning to my open
cell to welcome the uninvited reprieve.
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You may be relieved to hear
That I finally met my true muse
Face to face in the early morning mile
She came to explain her departure
From the desolate time before
And she did not wear your face
The poet is confused
Is he blessed with gifts
Or just being used?
Now there is no blame for inspiration
No credit for barren times
You are relieved of every duty
Now feed yourself your rhymes.
===================
No assassin’s bullet
Could ever make you bleed
But as you leave again, I plan
Mumbling to the paper
About the obvious futures of minimal hope
I slowly vanish
I eat and get thinner
Until the changing image
(One of your veins to reality)
Re - appears in black
Dazzling with white flames
One day, moonlight
Will not be enough to impress you
Your kind of beauty
Is pain
It kills observer and observed.
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Voices outside the window
"Come on, he can't hear- he's deaf"
I recognised the girl and heard footsteps
I lept to the glass
And looked to the street
No one in sight
Instant confusion
It is easy to go out of your mind
In an asylum.
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A certain song has found me again. The past has caught
up.
Waiting on the corner like a lie detector in a long
leather coat.
I have learned my history and remember mistakes. I
remember every night
Words and truth. But this song has found me, trapped me
into sentiment and doubt.
I am not condemmed to repeat
I am not condemmed to repeat.
==============
Things to take with you
When you go out;
A watch
A lighter
Hankerchiefs
And money
Ask any insecure man why.
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The solution to the problems is simple
But the questions are wrong
So how many would understand the answer?
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Your childhood never ends
New martyrs arrive at Heaven
Already angelic
in their beautiful suicides
Your storybook youth
Remains true forever
Adam and Eve fell with Lucifer
To propagate the paradise on Earth.
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I understand
You want to go on and on
Until you burn up and out
And some arrangement has been made
By yourself to this end
You refuse to tell, but are so lonely and weary
That all I need to do is watch your eyes
To know what it is
You are catching up at last.
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You are looked upon as a guide
People see you as a map
On what to avoid
Their relief consists of;
‘There but for the grace of God...’
You make them happy they are not you
You see them as being known
For what they have not done.
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I was the wrong child for my parents
I can make no apologies
My children will be wrong for me
And I the wrong parent for them.
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Beautiful
For all the wrong reasons
You know how easy it is to appeal
To the darkest senses
People just don’t try, do they?
To despise weakness
Would be a weakness itself
But people with glass minds
Shouldn’t get stoned
I should have asked for a receipt with this life
You bring out the sadist in me
How many missing differences can you find
And don’t the perfect seem ugly now?
///Taken from three little books, given as Christmas
presents by parents and filled in
over the years with very random musings. Obviously
inspired by LC style from Energy of Slaves
etc. I like the clearness of most of these. Simplicity
can be worked on or just written as it occurs.///
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