A very personnel fear
An urge to push away
I feel it say
You’re going to get hurt
You’re going to get hurt
Set a distance
Play it safe
And you won’t feel a thing
This spinning little rock upon which we can thrive was once little more than a ball of fire. A result of collisions and compounds sharing energy or being obliterated. Energy and matter in violent interaction, fuming and radiant, forming a glowing sphere of intense heat and then: the flames died down, the embers cooled and from the ashes came life.
Akin to this little rock we are born from the flames of passion and are destined to live as embers. Some will ignite new flames, others will simply glow through their existence but ultimately all will turn to ash. So be gentle if you chose to rake through the ashes for they are the foundations and remains of the mythical phoenix.
The beginning and the end.
I left you
Where you were meant to dwell
In my heart
In my mind
My child who never was
I am no son of god
No devil’s spawn
I am a symbol of your world
And all that is wrong
Within your broken cult
A cultural crime
You want what is yours
Yet take what is mine
It is the nature of belief
To refuse the real
To take it all in good faith
But what you have you steal
You are murder, you are pain
An illusion’s fool
Chosen by a doctrine’s way
To be that doctrine’s tool
My nature’s natures way
I have the upper hand
You can keep your fantasies
When nature takes a stand
Strips the flesh from corrupt bones
Foundations of your faith
I shall not pray, nor forgive
When all is laid to waste
One full spin makes a day and so planet Earth becomes my visual clock. As I am, in between other things, creating a time piece built on imagery.
A monk on a mountain
Detached from everything
Soon to be
Detached from life
Leaving behind
The flesh, the bone
And a word
Dream
Passing on
A piece of self
For peace of mind
A taste
Of future days
As time evolves
From dark to grey
Genetic pools
Selective sways
Tomorrow we can be
A little more
From the heart
We sacrifice
For soul to grow
Expand the mind
A pregnant thought
We will in to existence
Through the hardships
We have known
We shared the good
We stood alone
And got there in the end
Through sheer persistence
A docile summer storm has arrived in the city to wash away the sweat and give the air a much needed chill. The rain streams down our old homes where we are stacked like chickens on an industrial farm. Lightening streaks the sky before the slow rumble of thunder brings solace after the hot steamy existence of the past few weeks.
I have a cold beer and a half smoked cigarette. I’m feeling a little bit tired but enjoying this moment of respite as ideas float between notes and screen.
…and it is so that we entered a new era of kings and slaves. God is a machine, the sacred texts are now digital code and the all seeing eye counts in billions. Every thought pattern is identified, analysed and then commercialized for the hidden few. Those who once consumed are now a product trapped behind the numeric curtain. Dull eyed and blank faced. They have no realisation of their pain as they disintegrate in to the void at the sound of a click.