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Knifed right through
you turned away
leaving me for dead
I cried out
no one came
I bled
WE
died.
Copyright 2007 JVS/ Spirit Song
If you can’t make an omelette
without breaking eggs,
how important
is the omelette?
What Was and What Still Is
I dream of you with lies around your eyes and on your lips
But I find in you in the alleys with the rallies that drop dead in the streets
I held you in my arms as you were brought back to life in the middle of the night
But I lose you in time just like I lost it all in a single hand
I felt you quiver at the sight of a long over due kiss this morning
But I saw you run away from every emotion you could never fight
Come on, cruise into our lives.
Stirring up strife, like stirring up sediment from the bottom of the harbour.
Emptying your hull of short back n’side.
Dipping your rusty metal inot our pristine harbour.
I’ve walked past your expanse everyday you’ve been here.
Is 2mil a day from a 2faced allie worth it?
Can’t wait to see the back of you passing through the heads.
stood by the fresh heat of pavement
as words soothed from your throat
lingered with the speeding airs
of cars and motorbikes
i could not help but stare and
linger
softly singing lyrics long
forgotten
as your taut hand strummed
steel strings
and chords rang out from
your weathered guitar
i threw a dollar in your hat
and four blocks away your
song plays on
in this simple day
this whole
of worlds
..O..
I tried to sleep alone. I tried, I tried.
But i could not stand
The quiet discourse
with my self.
The to-ing and fro-ing
was enough to make me
tear out my own eyes
and feed them
to a carnivourous bird
that was standing nearby.
* * *
Most of all it is the fear
ontop of this fear
or underneath.
* * *
As much as i hate people
they give me
something
to turn my anger
and frustration
with myself
towards
away from me.
There’s a young
man
standing in the river
with a book
in his hand.
He says he a
poet
but the water flows
by him
unable to be obtained
by words
or otherwise.
You know when you watch war documentaries and there are thousands of faceless bodies of men lying in the ditches all cuddeled up to one another on the ground in the mud or dust, all wearing identical uniforms, with blood and holes, their hearts no longer pump but pieces of flesh and their helmets weren’t much help even though they had a photo of their girlfriend or wife or kid or ma n’ pa or brother or sister in it because they got shot in the chest or stabbed in the back and accidentally fell into the grey abyss where nothing tastes much like anything and you feel kind of numb even though
lah bah bah nahh wigahh tess megaron two tesses one two three moin loin lion mega nuaghht kuntfukkkerlala lopsided who are we anyway weeell it doesn’t really matter as lon g as we stick together and don ask questions strength in numbers, that’s what I always say. Yet we seem to be noticeably different. No? what happens after that? I like chilli, you don’t “but we’re in the same group! That’s just not right! So now what, do I have to find a new group of people who like chilli? It would seem so. That means that I will be in several groups. Now that’s just too fucken hard!
boogaloo time for one and a half times you can’t say no because you know why we’re here and where we’re going and love shall guide us, or that is or dicks shall guide us into the setting sun.
too far farr away lands we will roam and live and love and drink wine and we cannot see the end of it.
The end of it is only seen when you look deep down into your glass and wonder why we are here and what happens next.
Well, you get another drink, that’s what’s next.