Blinded By The Past

My past lingers in the air.
A future unclear, a life unfair.
All I do is stand and stare.
When will someone hear my prayer.


My plans lie in wait.
Balancing luck with fate.
So many options on my plate.
Got to get my head straight.


The answers lie ahead on the track.
Running, but the wind pulls me back.
Eyes drowning in the color black.
Languishing, I watch my life crack.


The way out I must find.
Create a clear path in my mind.
Let life with color bind.
This way, I will no longer be blind.

Eyes Of Another Lying Bastard

Look at you,
sitting strung-out,
pleading with
those treacherous
unconvincing eyes.


Perspiration dripping,
as your facade
begins slipping,
while your bull-shit,
trips over truth


Lies ooze
from every pore,
as all those stories
I’ve heard before,
dance the tango
on that bitter tongue.


You think I believe you?
No bastard…
This is the last time
you’ll deceive me…

I'm With You

Think of me, as I dream of you.

Feel my loving fingers caress

your face as I touch your picture.

Hear me when you ponder over my words,

on all those letter I send.

Although our love may seem pretend

remember in my mind,

I am always with you till the very end,

and who knows, perhaps beyond.

Always Looking

Years of decay,
flaunted like a parade.
the purpose I believe
is to fuel my ever growing rage
for a love that died and
left me blind,


trapped...


A prisoner held by
remorse and mistrust.
I roam these dreary corridors
looking for reminders of her.


But the good times
are hidden behind cobwebs and rust.


Hanging in my parlor,
the place one hides when tears erupt
is a photograph of her...
Lovely blond,
blued eyed she is.
She glares from behind the glass.


Seated in my crumbling
chair of self-pity
I look at her so pretty and fair.


She always screams bastard,
bastard, god damn
you jealous fucker!


I'm forced to think of something else.

Stay A Float

Outside the confines
of my dark,
insanity filled
chamber of doom
I focus on the sun,
and its intense shining light.


I ask a question
of a form so bright
so powerful providing
life with all its might.


'Why so proud?'


I whisper,
as I drift away,
drift into another
over pondered memory
that forever clouds my vision
and ties such answers
to a piece of drift wood,
drifting down my guilt filled river,
always getting away.


I will catch it...
but first I must
learn how to swim...
Or at least stay a float.

Politics & Charisma

It’s all the same you know
politics and charisma is just a show.
Hand in hand they go passing
bull shit to an thro.


They are actors on a stage
who read their lines from a page…
Words that some pen pusher
wrote to make them look good
and get another vote


Dress rehearsals are a regular thing.
God some of them brown Noses can sing…
When a promotion's in The air.


But I must declare It’s the worst show I’ve ever seen.
When I asked for a refund they said,
‘oh no Sir... don’t be so obscene.'

Who Gave The Order

Who gave the order,
the order to kill,
a man in his prime
for daring to rise
from his knees?


For daring to
free his land from
a tyrants cruel hand?


For the crime of
uniting a nation,
so all would
stand together as one?


When the deed was done...


Tell me you
who gave the order,
the order to kill
another good man?


Did you smile,
while millions cried?

Wealth And Power

Many nations divided and crushed,
as mandates made for the rights
to freedom are flushed down the
toilet pans of the heartless few.


Demonstrations are everywhere.
Screams of revolution hushed
by propaganda and threats of death,
as those living easy look on.


Wealth and power go hand in hand
as big wigs take it upon themselves
to implement plans that do nothing
but undermine, and build lies and hate.


Pieces of land taken by force for
nothing but economic heartache and growth.
Behind their desks and secret conventions
they prepare and ponder for more of the same.


It will never cease…
All this amidst a world striving for peace.

Like Festering Sore

Like a festering sore
you’re there,
demanding my attention.


‘Oh scratch me please’
you whine.


Every time I turn on
the TV you scream
colourful lies at me.


Trying to convince me
That he’s the best
She’s the best, the whole
Fucking world's a mess,
As far as I can see


Buy this buy that
any old tat, to improve my
life…


Oh Mr media
take your encyclopedia
of lies and stick it up your arse.

I'm Doing Alright

Tangled in a tapestry

of mixed emotions.

Lost in dizzy dreams.

When the notion arises

to scream... I do so.

Inside my unheard cries
ring like bells, but as far
as anyone else can tell...
I'm doing alright.




I wear it well you know,
this facade of lies.
But if you look closely,
really close you might just
see these tear stains
in the corners of my eyes.




Because I do cry, I cry at
night time when no one is around.
I have days when I wish
the ground would open up
and swallow me whole.


(in fact everyday)




Inside my unheard cries
ring like bells, but as far
as anyone else can tell...
I'm doing alright.

GOD ON SPEED DIAL

Oh no, my life is crumbling,
I’m stuttering
and stumbling over the facts.
I need to slow down,
I feel a heart attack coming on.


It’s at times like this,
I wish I had God on speed dial.


Oh no, I’m slipping and sliding,
momentarily tripping
over those obstacles I build.
I’m getting filled up with drugs,
just to feel normal.


It’s at times like this,
I wish I had God on speed dial.


An instant connection
to my saviour in the sky,
when I’m climbing the walls.
My own private head inspector
to dry those tears I cry.


It’s at times like this,
I wish I had God on speed dial.

Foolish Hearts Of Billy And Joe

Billy and Joe were lovers
caught in the head lights
of another car crash...


They were just lonely I guess


Both on the same smash
and grab trolley dash,
at a local supermarket
for those left on the shelf.


Grabbed an emotion
that fell apart in their foolish hands.

In Her Eyes

Those quiet times when I look at her,
I see years of regret, she'd love to forget.
I can tell her insides are drenched with pain.
One day she'll explain the reason for
the blank look in her eyes... Tell me the story
behind those black tears that she cries.
When that day comes, I'll be there to mend
the pieces of her broken heart.
If that day never comes I'll always be her glue
and do those things I always do that
stop her falling apart at the seams.

Sex Scented Smoke

She longs to be touched in that way again,
and smile as his man hood sinks deeper.
This desire burns inside like molten lava.
Forcing her hand to rub moist silk folds.
Deeper, fingers caresses her elasticity walls,
and she’s there, inside her volcano of lust…
Bubbling over with excitement…
until she’s lifted high into the air by
sex scented smoke that rises from
her much needed eruption.

Crumbling

Heart like a rock crumbles,

as tormented blood crashes

hard and repeatedly...

Forming a new me, a different me

a battered bruised me.

A sea of regret overflows,

and I'm left drowning,

always drowning in pity and pain.

Eyes swell up like a cloud

producing more tears.

The whole process begins again.

Oh How I Praise Thee

It's a way to escape
A chance to brake free
A means of seeing the other side
Oh how I praise thee
Masterful creator of door handles

Saved By An Angel

Saved by an angel
while drowning in pity
She pulled me close
to her soul so pretty
Reached by an angel
the holder of the key
She unlocked the darkness
set my lonely heart free
Touched by an angel
with wings made of love.

Tears Will Fall

As I wander through
dingy blood flowing hallways,
approaching a deflated heart.
Organs dangle free,
festering on each side of me.
A liver corroding,
lungs black with smoke.
I Hear echos of pain
alive in the fleshy walls.
I'm nearly there now,
heartache is calling me.
I'll open it up and peer inside
with my key of bad luck.
Then those tears will sadly fall.

But Enter I Must

If you heard the screams
I have to hear coming from
inside that dark forest.
Would you face them?


It's clear I’m being asked
to take the plunge...
just get past that mental wall
that keeps me locked
on the dark side of who I am,
and who I’m striving not to be.


Will I ever know
What’s at the end of the path?
I’m much to scared to enter
But enter I must...
Take those first steps,
It might not be as bad as I think.

My Seeds Of Change

That soil of mixed
heartache and joy.


These Leaves that
languish in a landscape
of toil and troubles,
force me to search
for pastures new...

Perhaps a view of the sea
while my earth turns to sand.
Crabs will walk on the surface
of what should be me.

These the things I hope for
as my seeds of change
move delicately on
in the subtle breeze...
or the storms of life
carry thee far and wide.