Payment

After 6 am, you come into the world from morning meditations, much has been in the pit and it's refreshing to greet daily life as you switch on 3 overheads: The washing machine washes your clothes, the gas fire - winter heat and the radio plays: 'Pictures Of You' by The Cure. All over your head. Slow burning pleasure and necessity for which someone must pay.

Minor Wound and Blues Tune

It could have been great but you lay in your wounds

You lay in your wounds for too long

There's no harm to show that

You're feeling side knows that

You've laid in your wounds for too long

Then you go out, you scream and you shout

Take rave lessons at local gymnasia

(There's no need to talk...)

The day you rose up, the kids were all out -

The stains on the sheets have all but come out

Just the ghost of a memory

a possible life,

but you'd laid in your wounds for too long.

Blues Major

Everybody got a new path to take
doesn't mean we're all on the make
but some of us are
and some of us know it
Some of us, hide by refusing to show it

You've got to say when your fanny itch
Let's all celebrate a stiff cock
Don't get so possessive
it makes you aggressive

Get the T shirts printed - let's rock

(solo I guess, and repeat to fade - if not climax)

3am: (These Long Hours)

It's 3 am and I'm on your media pages
you're showing well, its all on your side,
people are answering your ads and
showing you love online
you have your synchronicities
and your heart back...

The radio always plays the right tune.

But these long hours, in ghost silence,
Are when I press my 'send':
'Come back, I have no deeper wound
and yours is safe here - there is no end'..

Your heart was given - but lightly you say
Now you've taken it back in kind
These deeper wounds that you dance away
aren't allowed to reach to your mind.

So I keep a safe harbour
Not perfect, but true
A place I never hoped to make
A terrible beauty
To hold in a heart:
That was never a light gift to take...

(and wait for 4am...)

Ghosting

I am the in between
I have lived in your gut
And I occupy spaces
Between objects of desire
I am repulsion and
I am attraction
You know me by your breath
And by all small sensations you
Regret you have ignored
I smell of truth and fate
You cannot handle me
And I am subject to no will
I take heed of ancestry,
But never barter with the living
Who share the burdens of pain
Which I must exact by their
Unseen connections, their powers
Of fellowship in suffering and all
Other holy consecrations.
I am a blessing and a curse.
I educate.

Going Underground/ Let It Not Be

Going underground

New miners
Miners of welfare
Miners of truth
Miners of what you can learn from your youth
Miners of wisdom
Miners of knowledge
Mining all the stuff you couldn't learn in college
Miners of power
Miners of doubt
Miners of debt
Miners of cash
Miners of goodness wi nawt tekken out
Miners of Motown and miners of soul
Miners of God
Carrying a hod
Up a fucking long ladder
To a roof with no slates

Miners misunderstood Lord
Please, don't let it be.

Risk Assessment

gotta find words for this me this you this is all of us
go to not fall off the cliff
got to not need to fall to see
got to not need to jump to fall to see to
understand too late -
every inch of the journey down
and the never to be had hindsight
of the tragedy we would make

- Donald. Did China ever think?
- Donald: They thought
- Donald: Can you really speak for us?
Who are we?
Where have we gone?
How far down the cliff are we now?
Hindsight is so close
only time travel will help
Donald - we need magic
Donald - what magic have you?

Where are our leaders?
Where are our thinkers?
Where are our high priests?
Our shaman and nature gods?

Who will be our protectors but us?
Liberate, quickly. See truth.

Live free and know that the risk of safety is the biggest danger of all.

SOS Or More

arcane calendar entries?
synchronicities?
temporal loops?
or just a friend
sending you a message
at a particular time:
arcs of life that,
intersect and plane
follow and cradle
come together
and move apart
sometimes abruptly
and sometimes
inexorably slow
but to know our places
on the wasted patterns left behind
is a life time's work -
or more.