All The Lonely Lovers

These nights bring nothing but stillness. Stillness in the leaves, and stillness drifting with the breeze. They ache of loneliness, yet their beauty is glorious. Soft like bedsheets and sand. Numb and confused. Floating through time and memory. My clothes slipping from my tired body, the haze of autumn days calls to me through the window. Sweet, like holy water. Women, dancing with abandon. Limbs golden, and whispering in fluid tongues of sunshine. My eyes struggle to stay open, even though the music is so gentle. Lighting a cigarette, I grab my balls and think of a pretty girl who sways in the hushed corners of my mind. She smiles, and she hypnotizes. Her lips so delicate, I imagine what they taste like as I crumble to the floor in a mess of abstract fear.

These days will make me. Despite the odds, they will strengthen my bones. They will test my resolve, and push me through the fire. All those lost yesterdays, not mourned, but celebrated. All those lost lovers, not lost, but worshiped. No regrets, only steps on a journey, wonderful and obscure. All those wasted hours, not wasted, but a test of my endurance. I could have given up. Yet even when everything seemed hopeless, I never gave up hope. Even when I had nothing to hope for, hope didn’t desert. Through blind belief and stupidity, I carried on. It was only a matter of breathing. Yet there are times, when to even breathe, seems like too much. It had to be done though. These steps have to be walked, even when they appear to be leading nowhere. Walk the walk, and the rest will follow.

The years come and go, like faces in the crowd. Sometimes you’ll forget who you are. Sometimes, you’ll forget what you wanted in the first place, and you’ll lose sight of what matters. Doubt will knock you down. Dreams will drown, and you’ll bow down to the mundane. Others will tell you to give yourself up. Banish the craziness, and become someone with modest ambition. Wear a suit, look handsome in a pretty job. Leave that madness by the side of the road, and join in the orgy of boredom, and of course, b-b-b-banility. Replicate others. Stop playing the fool, and become a fearful little machine like the rest. Surrender to money. Surrender to the blueprint of modern life. Let the boot stamp you into submission. Let others win in breaking your spirit. Rendered useless with no creation, you’ll waste away and become another ghost. That’s what happens, when you don’t stay true to yourself. When others take charge of your destiny, they’ll play it safe for you. Because safety, is just too damn easy.

But, that’s never going to happen to you.

No matter what the odds, and how fucked up and lost you seem, if it’s in your heart, then go for it. You’ll be dead soon anyway. Be mad. Let the craziness win. Get lost, and find yourself. Drink too much. Smoke too much. Lose friends and alienate people. Have lovers curse your name and wish you dead. Tip-toe on the edges of society. Disappear. Dissolve. Let the tears fall, and suffocate in melancholy. Feel empty, stop eating. Lose weight. Be alone. Be alone, and shine bright. A star in the darkness, beyond the understanding of all those around you. Swim in a sea of dreams. Wander through the streets at night, and know there’s no one quite like you. That despite all the problems and pain, there’s no one who comes close to possessing the vigor that flows within your veins. You’re a mess, but you’re more beautiful than words. Live the life that you deserve. Not the one that others think you should live. Piss on self doubt, and dance like you mean it. Dance the dance of life. What have you got to lose?

Ecstasy

sex

 

wondrous milky bitch she is

ready and willing for all i’ve got to give

a million dead children

shooting over her chest

swimming

there in pools of lust and

lukewarm desire

i’ve taken all her secrets

stripped her bare and shamed her through

the sensation of ecstasy, surging through her veins

nothing to hide, nowhere to turn

my hands taking and mouth tasting

every inch of what she is

i’ve infected her with my love

and now

she belongs to me

To Repel Ghosts

liberate yourself

by

repelling ghosts

kick those yesterdays to the curb

and throw away the doubt

that grinds you down

replace it instead with the maddened belief

that life is far more than a

process of gaining money through

repeated tasks

we are not monkeys

we’re starlovers

conscious minds burning brightly

in a universe of

infinite chaos

so why not

go against the grain of

expectation

the dulling horror

of what life has been reduced to

and stand up like a nail

fighting for

freedom

expression

and love

because everything else

is just useless

Junk Of The Hearts

The days’ are sickly hot, and the women wear as little as possible. Flesh is what they live for, and it’s what they sell. Their sex is power, and they use it to attract the dumb impulses of men. Men who can’t help being human. It’s pitiful, and humorous, in equal amounts. Everywhere you turn, stretchmarks and tits, lifeless and dead. Pouting lips, and grown men dribbling with hardened, tired cocks. They boil in cheap lust. Their dreams never going beyond swallowed body parts. I’m made of stardust, not hollow guts! There has to be more than this. Has to be. Otherwise I’m just as bad as them. And that leaves me hopeless.

People swarm like insects. A gathering of no meaning. Love is vacant, like an empty parking lot. No dreams, only fragments of yesterday, strewn across the dusty ground. My eyes can’t help but watch it all though. I’d shut them tight if I could, but that would be careless. Sometimes, you find something worth looking at. A tender moment. A delicate smile upon the face of a tender soul. Someone will occasionally stand out. Someone with an honest heart. Who behaves the way they do because they feel compassion and warmth. But these souls don’t come around very often. And even when they do, they’re often crushed before they have time to blossom.

Integrity is meaningless around these parts. Beauty nothing more than flesh and image. The mysteries of perception, ignored and left to wither like a neglected plant. When someone smiles a genuine smile, it leaves me motionless. When you see it in their eyes, that honesty, it makes all the ugliness blur out of view. When they speak words of truth, it silences all those mouths with nothing to say. The babble that grinds away. The masses of dim, empty heads. When someone with vision comes into your life, things click into place. You see what’s important, and what needs leaving behind. And all that trash that you carry around with! All that useless junk, holding you back and dragging you down! When you finally let it go, it will never, ever be missed.

So much waste in our lives. So many messy attempts and regretful failures. So much cheapness. So many lost souls, just wandering around imitating others. The world turns with far too many people looking in one direction. There’s not enough difference. Individuality reduced to fashion, or what funky little job we kill our time with. It should be about beliefs! About visions! The freedom of thoughts, and the heart’s true desires! It’s a word I use far too often, but only because I’m reminded of it everywhere I look. Banality. It sucks the life out of me. I’m searching for believers, for souls that dare to open themselves up to more than what we are told to accept as enough. Magic. The magic of love and creation. Inject me with freedom. Give me something that won’t ever leave me.

Taking a shower, I feel refreshed as the slime and grease of others washes from my body. The day is cooler now. Words replacing dim and dreary faces. A certain calm befalls me. With classical music playing, I lean back and look at the sky and trees outside. The grace of nature. It’s beauty silent and defening. No need to get wrapped up in melodrama and pointless activities. Don’t waste time, just breathe it in. Open your arms to peace. No one should feel the need to sacrifice themselves in order to feel accepted. Just find yourself a quiet area away from the rest, and revel in the beauty of yourself. No flaws. No ugliness. Only beauty.

Lovers And Thunder

clo

 

Stormclouds come slowly floating over the town. Strange colours in the sky. Streets plunged into purgatory. My mouth tastes of beer and cigarettes. Rain gently falls. Lovers run to safety, with dogs chasing close behind. Time stands still, if only for a while. Moments, when the terrible rules we abide by, evaporate into thin air. Rules and constraints, blown away with dead leaves. Filling up the sink in the bathroom, I plunge my head beneath the surface. Throwing it back a few seconds later, and the water drips down my chest and onto the floor. Blinking it from my eyes, I feel romantic, but there’s only cheapness to be found in my veins. Alone with the shadows, I take a piss and shudder.

Wrapped up in ghosts and energy. The sense of danger is strong. Almost dark now, music swirls with smoke. I’m waiting for the thunder. For the lightning to strike. The sex of gods in the heavens above. Or just some lunatic, moving his furniture around inside the moon. Secrets of eons, crashing down upon our tiny, maddened heads. Nothing original comes from normality. Beauty is the product of war, and of destruction. From fire and chaos, comes meaning. Wonder isn’t to be found in the dust, it’s in the raging hearts of artists. Rain lashing down, my teeth are on edge. Candle burning casting shapes upon my naked body, the night bursts into flames. It takes away all your fears, and makes you believe in the unknown. Nothing to fear or doubt, the night is a portal to truth.

These days where words are all I have. They cry of victory. And they scream of glory.

Darkness and solitude. Caressing the very heart of what I am. Discovery isn’t about landscape, it’s about inner vision. Take what you see, and mix it with what you feel. Paint a picture, that no one else but you could tell. The rumble of thunder grows. Low now, but getting louder with every passing minute. The coming of a great dance. Of an act, that goes beyond the realms of understanding. Two lovers, shyly on the verge of exploring each others bodies. So hesitant at first. So clumsy. But as the passion builds, the truth of what they want comes out. The tearing of clothes. The biting of lips. Flesh and bones, mixing together upon bedsheets stained with desire. Lust, thumping behind ribcages. To fuck, and to fuck with not a single care in the world. Because tonight is about them. And in this fleeting moment of chaos and war, they are infinite.

Sucking on my cigarette, with sweat dripping down my brow, I look out the window and see the first flashes of light. Counting the seconds, thunders rumbles from far away. Closer it comes, and within the hour, it’ll be upon me. Feed me with your kiss. Feed me with energy. Give me abandonment. Let me throw myself into the abyss, and fight it with all I have. Angels and demons. Gods and nothingness. Everlasting, and locked in battle eternally. Somewhere, a dog howls, as thunder keeps creeping closer. All those lonely streets. All those bridges and fields. The days of your past, and the moments from your future, circling one another ready for the act of creation. Breathing shallow, silence blossoms. Then interrupted once more, by the grumblings of aching gods. Somewhere, the future is waiting to be born. It yearns for your touch. And for a little belief. Any minute now. Just a little more. One more push.

And then we ignite.

Banality And Blowjobs

the world burns

and all we want is to get drunk

and fuck

bodies falling like april showers

bloodshed and

bombs

in every corner of this pitiful land

obliterating

innocence

like it were meaningless

yet apathy is where we belong

celebrity so cool

our souls traded for

banality and blowjobs

war

as some kind of birthright

humanity a stain

when it should only be a glorious

wonder

worshipped and adored

with complete

and utter devotion

These Days

The kid next door cleans his car all day long. Over and over again he cleans it, whilst his girlfriend just sits there in despair playing with her phone. I want to take her by the hand, and show her what a real machine looks like. Leave him¬†there¬†shining the wheels, whilst I teach her a lesson she’ll never forget. But I won’t, because she’s hideously boring. Sitting there on the grass playing on her phone for hours on end, her face is blank and dull. Dreadful creature she is. The two of them deserve each other. How we fill our lives with junk! Useless junk, everywhere. In our bodies. In our minds. In our hearts. Gagging us whilst we don’t even care.

Somewhere, a plane falls from the sky. Someplace else, a train crashes. Bombs explode. Flesh and bone torn apart. People gone in the blink of an eye. Yet we waste our lives like it were some form of worship. Beauty and creation, reduced to trivial fancies. Not that I’m any better. I spent an hour sat in the garden earlier, watching leaves blowing in the breeze. And then I threw my ball against the wall until it went over the fence into next doors garden. It was like being a child again. It wasn’t a complete waste of time though, as I was going over a scene from my novel. Why would a man dig up one of his victims, simply to stare at its skull in the middle of the afternoon? There must be a reason, but I haven’t found it yet. It’ll come though.

These days remind me of how I was four or five years ago. I didn’t care much about other people then. The only thing that interested me, was writing. I was a shit writer back then. I’ve improved a little in my eyes. Those days, it was all I ever wanted to do. And finally, it’s come back, that passion and desire. That belief, that nothing else matters apart from doing what you love. And it doesn’t really. Might as well do something that has meaning. Don’t waste your time on people who don’t care, nor waste your life on a job just so you can buy expensive things. Quality of life is important I guess, but so poverty of the soul is to be avoided at all costs. I may be poor, but my soul is ripe with creation and wonder.

Love and sex bore me. I care about them deeply, but, they leave me feeling numb. People are too cheap for my liking, myself included. I think for the time being, I’ll stick to being lost in my head rather than wrapped in a womans arms. Fantasy and madness make me feel alive. Love just weakens and lets you down. And sex is just tiresome. I’d rather fuck a washing machine. Or soak in a bath. Reading some Bukowski. Drinking a can of beer, I’ll imagine what it’s like at the edges of the universe. All those galaxies, full of planets and stars that we’ll never, ever know about. The coldness of space, and unfathomable distance. It leaves me open mouthed and dazed.

They say it’s gonna storm. I hope so. Thunder and rain makes me feel peaceful. Late night therapy. Alone with ghosts and make believe. Laying here on the floor, I’m quite content doing nothing for the time being. No sounds. No words. Stillness. Clarity of thought. Things that are valuable to me. Things that can’t be bought. Drifting off into a world of imagination, I smile at all the faces that await me.