Hot Coals.

                Hot Coals.

 

The bottle cooler fan is whirring,

The base line of a song is pumping,

The doubt of love, my head thumping,

And all the while notions stirring.

Heat for the entire expanse,

Heat enough yet no people dance.

Heat to burn into my gaze,

And all the memories I erase.

In a quietness to mortify life,

In the noise of loneliness jumping,

In a tale of misery on me dumping,

And all the seconds an eternal strife.

Me a man with so much hope,

Me and you ought to now elope.

Me is how my mind will blaze,

And all the passion create a craze.

Is your heart mine to hold and take?

Is the light in your eyes performing?

Is it love or just a subtle warning?

And all the passion given for my sake.

Becoming bold enough to ask you,

Becoming stronger in heat to push through.

Becoming wise to escape the maze,

And all the while walking in a daze.

A man I am so full of fire,

A believer in the life I'm planning.

A giver of the love and light I'm fanning,

And all the visions, you are my desire.

Torture that I have yet to hold you,

Torture of a passion, that is like glue.

Torture waiting on your eyes to glaze,

And all the beauty that with you, stays.

I'm so very sorry.

I'm so very sorry.

Nothing I have said to you,

made you see the belief

I have in you, and all

this love I gave to you,

and all the hope I placed

on you, for all those truly

amazing things you do.

This is why my time

I knew, was greater shared

between us two, not that you

were everything I knew, yet

a great big part of what

I do, where fun and light

shone over you, the dreams

I hold to push you through,

boundaries further than you

knew, so everything you'd do,

be true, and help you grow

these gifts so new, shine your

light, that golden hue, into a

time when everyone knew, you, too...!

'A'

Trouble in Paradise.

A distant echo,

Of far away voices

Calling me to make,

Some new world choices.

Stop the flood of selfishness,

They say to me, constantly.

But they'd not know,

To whom they speak,

Or if the hearer could,

Be one, a new hope to seek.

Calling out across,

The void of time gone by,

Such beauty in the eyes,

Of lovers who knew how to sanctify.

Be what you are daily,

Don't fret to be future kings.

Yet they had not seen,

This wonder that I have dreamed.

Or if they had, maybe

We'd be further ahead it seems.

You see something,

As do I in this life.

It is through our dreams,

Our Utopia could bring us relief.

Nothing seems sacred any more,

The majority fixed in hatreds law.

And only in dreams,

Are we truly ever free.

Where the beauty of belief,

Creates everything we'd want to see.

Caught in between,

Choices of evil and of good,

Every man and woman alive,

Has a chance, it's understood.

Be a warrior for love,

And live a life to bring glory.

Yet somehow in striving,

Ideologies confuse the greater law.

To be truly free of pain,

You have to be the one giving more.

What hasn't tried,

To bring a peace on Earth,

All ways to end oppression,

And create a life of worth?

But my friends accept this,

None had eyes to see paradise.

For if they had seen,

Just what arriving would mean,

Who would have journeyed still,

To arrive at a broken dream?

Paradise and Utopia,

Are what drive us to go on,

When we live a life of suffering,

And our strength had almost gone.

For in these hopeful moments,

We are safe in our confusion.

Our very existence depends,

Upon our dreams of better days.

And upon our will to change,

The things to live out better ways.

So imagine this,

We arrive at paradises door.

And open it to discover,

We'll be always wanting much more.

Has the journey been worthy,

If the end has let us down?

Only you and I can know,

If this would make us sad.

Yet here's a likely outcome,

It would be enough to drive us mad.

Let's tolerate existence,

Knowing that a dream is part,

Of how and why we move at all,

It's how we create our art.

Nothing good or evil shall,

Destroy the peace we can dream.

And only in dreams,

Will we ever be in paradise,

Until we realise this truth,

Our journeys create our true paradise.

All that I have.

       All that I have.

 

All that I have,

Is, all that I need.

Not, all that I want

But, all that I need.

For if it weren't,

I would have achieved,

I surely would have

Created more and believed.

I don't need money,

For I have all I can use.

What good more money?

It's just more I could lose.

To be justly contented,

Would it fill my void?

If I could yet have,

All my desires be employed?

I really don't need,

Anything more than sufficient.

Who justly has need?

It's our want that's deficient.

Enough is a concept,

We may never achieve.

It's our paradoxical construct,

That we'd love to believe.

Do not let our worry,

Be all about the lack.

It's our dissatisfied reason,

We feel is under attack.

Please understand theoretically,

What we have's what we need.

And ask ourselves honestly,

Is wanting more not for greed?

Picture Stories.

       Picture Stories.

Saw, the blood of death

that reaped a soul,

to create life against

the backdrop of change.

Evolutionary cycles call

a shift in the world,

where man and woman

meat their makers today.

Gamey bird the favourite

amongst the haunting imagery,

where something strange

afoot on Lindum greene,

took us all away

on a journey of discovery.

The pasty tones conspire

invoking hasty imaginations.

Six has perfect number

indeed to describe doubts,

about the reason of why

life be shown so chillin'.

Where someone over-willing

laid bare the open truth.

Such virtue of our youth

hanging for all to see.

A heart that beated

cut from where hunger,

gorged on every type

of flesh and bone and sinew.

And everything that's in you,

changed upon the icy slab.

And carving knives

had remade token lives.

Meat the subject has

evoked a crazy idea free,

of what's important now

in life or death today.

Or love and hate combined,

the journey helped us find,

some deeper answers

floating into questioning mind.

Behind the counter, hare,

pay all for what we share,

a death of life becomes

rejoicing to the eater.

When understood its cycle,

divine the process change,

pleasant the pheasant her meat,

proving her death so sweet ...

For Rebecca Lindum Greene.

On her art display of 'Meat the Maker.'

Contradictory Paradigm.

Contradictory Paradigm.

A peace to end all war,

But fighting for the peace.

A land to feed the hungry,

Yet we kill to eat the beast.

Destroy forests to give heating,

And cause the ozone layer to fail.

We fill or world with pollution,

So we can get more, junk mail.

Our children grow up to learn,

How not to tell the real truth.

If they were following close example,

What lies our world tells to our youth.

The chance for Utopia is lost,

When we face up to the reason.

We have filled our greedy hands,

So dystopia could come into season.

But there are those still hoping,

That humanity could wish it true.

Lay down our arms and weaponry,

And let real love come rushing through.

What should I do with that ?

What should I do with that ?

Juicy, sweet, neat, complete,

A rare exotic treat,

My passions fleet, alive.

Here the door becomes open

To discover more than love.

Supple, purple, roundy circle,

I hurtle touching myrtle

On the level of desire.

Create in her a languid fire,

Oh my word I shall expire.

 

Love could save me now,

If I cared for her touch.

Lust is better on the hoof,

My rising temperature the proof,

She'll blow me through the roof.

Utopia Rising.

Utopia Rising.

On the flags of this city,

I have reasoned a new beginning.

Not yet allowed to be seen,

But it is coming in my dream.

'Tis not yet arrived, certainly,

So slow are the wheels of industry.

Cold the heart of man to change,

And all the understandings strange.

So beautiful is she in regalia,

The light of the darkness mustn't fail you.

For on yon' hillside sits a soul,

Who yearns to share Utopias' final goal.

The dream of ages come at last,

Bring peace and fairness all abundance past.

When man and beast lay down their weapons,

Leave nothing hanging and no malice threatens.

So many souls who craved a day,

When love was free to walk this way.

No darkness feared, no pain untreated,

Not the child of earth so superheated.

For rule of law would not say,

Go hungry, die in disease or war.

Whilst the rich overlook the poor,

Just so that they can have more.

But this Utopia, has never come,

On distant memories it's tune was sung.

Across the ions of time and space,

It always eluded showing earth its' face.

And yet in my heart I know it's true,

One day its light will rule o'er you.

The way we've lived just can't go on,

Or we'll end it all, greeds explosion...!

Hot on my heals.

Hot on my heals.

The dark con of man,

Stabs at my watchful eye.

In secret, everything waits,

Folded under layers of dirt.

Fornicated with devil-ettes,

Thy heart races in times

Of the darkest seasons,

And the cruellest reasons,

To be free of morality.

His watchful gaze,

relentless in the foreboding.

The tempest of hatred,

A scare amongst the demons.

Should not they alone carry

All this angst and hate ?

Who am I amongst them,

To be worthy to be

This accomplice in Sheol ?

No righteous being could,

Venture down so deeply.

Surely the god of all

Would bring me up again.

So surprised at free will,

Letting her guarding arms,

Fold about me under fire.

Wishing me a brimstone bath,

And memories of lusty nymphs.

Then a crack of sound,

Peel against the heavens.

I have been lost,

Now I am to be found,

Somewhere far away

From openness and human truth.

Perhaps those ricochets resound

To warn me of destruction,

I'm not saved... I'm going down...

My Last Rolo.

Open wide, I'll slip it inside,

You're my confident, someone tried.

I'll share with you, everything,

My last Rolo or my darkest sin.

To be a man I walk in hope,

We could find the reason washed in soap.

Clean as a whistle that echoes here,

Down in the depths, you're coming near.

I love you muchly I hope you know,

In the face of you my passions grow.

Take my gift and enjoy sucking it slow,

I always love giving you, my last Rolo.

No fuss, no waste you eat it all,

Until its almost gone, flacid and small.

And in your eyes I see how rich,

You share your passions, you kinky bitch...!

Stir of Echoes.

Mayhem in the deepest recesses,

Brain activity gone spectacularly high.

Hospital trolley wheel squeaking,

Type of repetition forcing issues

Into open forum.

Candidly I bring my mind in,

To debate a final assault here.

Friction from a well of morbid

Fears and gargoyles hunting me,

In burning meadows.

Running for the love of many,

Since my life was in a worm hole.

Called to face the final frontiers,

Where marbles could be lost or

Gained in hell.

Jade and amber in crystal patterns,

Found the dull inside my confusion.

Rays of light can't go where demons

Show the power of their might,

Crushing me alive.

Atoms bombard like holy cannons,

Brought from Sheol at bargain price.

Rooms inside my head are opened,

Shocked is me to walk in earnest,

Biding this fear.

But her voice comes ever louder,

Hailing with the sound of sirens.

Watching for a stir of echoes,

To bring the end of me again,

She smiles peacefully.

Like it or not, my fate sealed,

To rove the earth in eternal misery.

For nothing comes to end my sorrow,

Where the blame beneath me runs,

And drives me, almost always

Fucking mad....

A Love You Would Die For...!

A Love You Would Die For...!

before the sunset finalizes,

I want to know a love that

realizes, all my dreams and

sheds disguises, of what darkness

brought upon me. I want to

know you darling, so we can

run free, endlessly, caught no

longer by time nor space nor

rules or shame, to be anything

but the same by name. I

wanted no more, than is fair

to ask of love. The winters to

be warm, the springs new life,

a summer under star filled skies,

the autumn leaves reflecting, in

your eyes. Go wilder than the wind,

and be as happy as the child

who plays in spring the pantomime.

Where all I asked of love to be

mine, to make your dullness shine,

when arms entwine no borderline.

Race into freedom above the

hope, that all we need to

elope, was someone handsome,

someone awesome, someone fearless

a girl in red dress, making me

care-less, of wasted hours in bed.

To be filled with passion for

rearranging, every smile on every

face, until life called the ended

race, where we were champions

of all we started, each golden

project, we'd try to per-fect. By

love we knew we'd win this

game, and never lose the purest

taste of how good we felt,

the cards were dealt, nothing else

could cloud our passionate story.

And years would let our spirits

know just how such love could

overflow, into the well of life

we shared, so we'd both reap

from how we dared.....to be...

Dying Young.

Dying Young.

Death you see, is

A kind of doorway.

It leads from now into tomorrow,

And a new ventured horizon of life.

But we don't really know,

Just what life holds in store.

As it closes down the light,

But opens up a brighter door.

Dying young seems a waste,

Of brilliance yet to come.

Snubbed in a flash of wretchedness,

Where love should have stayed and won.

Such vitality covered over,

Shot away from beauty's eyes.

Put out of reach from loved ones,

But maybe adding legend to the skies.

In our earthly hearts, is

A sorrowfulness for all that's gone.

We grieve to pay respect for them,

And remember them with joyful song.

Dying young steals growth,

From more than they that perish.

We, dying in our own ways again,

Suffer damage of all the joy we cherish.

Cold and lonely winds arrive,

In silence our bitter tears parade.

But what has purpose brought for them,

When life on earth so short is made ?

What has begun now crushed,

Under foot of deaths own love.

A kindness none shall see of him,

Caused a bitterness, hate for love.