chapter zero (dates unknown)

Chapter Zero: dates unknown

I don’t think any of you know pain.
Something that lasts through the night.
Something that ravages your body
Not a black spark, but a grey year.

You’ve all been in the rain,
Sometimes lost sight of the light,
Felt alone, like a nobody,
Especially if you’ve lost someone dear.

You all know pain.

Making space for myself
How do I help thee, Carl.
How do I scout-out what you once knew.
How do I bring it back to you, and give you
the pieces?  You will never be able
to reassemble them – I can not.

I feel anger resounding throughout my mind,
but it is like a poison…Greed
poisons my blood and makes me angry.
Humility goads it on like the carrot before the
donkey.  I watch…and love trickles away.
I speak….and a terrible eel comes forth
from my mouth, to strangle he who is
in my path (beside me, behind me, within
MY SPACE) !  My space is breathing and
pulsing, it will do more than grow,
it is alive and it must eat! My
panting, growing space will devour
the flesh around me… in me.. and
I will be nothing.

Waiting in the darkness
For my true love in the night
Trappings are tearing me closer
To the death I see in my fright.
Waiting for my true dear man
To come riding through the black
When this one finger – his savior
Will take my life and give his back.

A loved one
A monarch
on the
side of
the road
is dead
I take
it home
where it
flakes apart
Its beauty
I love
it even
though it
is dead.

I am in love with your fiery breath
That burns in my heart even after your death
I am in love with your electric-blue eyes
That shocked through my life and rendered the skies
Open above us, as our feet left the ground
Our love encompassed us from all around.

We floated away over seas of blue-green
With white clouds above us as though, it would seem
They were blocking our way to that place beyond
But you let go my hand, dear, and now you are gone.

I am in love with your face, your smile, your hair
That smelt of sweet honey at that old small town fair.

I am in love with your picture, your soul and your mind
My lost one, my love – my tears make me blind.

The peace sign
I look to it as a nationalist to his flag.
It is my hope, my glory, my life.
It is all I’ve ever dreamed of
 And all I’ve ever wanted.

Come, and take my hand.
It is good to sit and pray.
It is time to end the strife.
Let us dream our dreams undaunted
Let us give this dream a hand.

Why is it so impossible?
I know how easy it could be.
Just open your mind to change
And we can make this world the promised land.

Please come home
Because I need your standing voice
That props up my soul on a make-shift pillar
And without which I would  topple
and crumbling
I need you.  I love you.  I miss you.
There is something tugging at me
that demands to be acknowledged.
I am frightened I am scared I am sweating.
It is angry because it does not exist.

Oh help me, save me, find me.

I  lived in a see-through greenhouse.
But something big came and stormed it down.
And now my life lays around me
In a million broken shards of glass.

Find me, save me, come home soon.

A Ghost
I don’t believe in them.
I adamantly refuse.
So when you break out the Oiga board
I’ll go up to my room for a snooze.

And alone in the deep dark chamber
Where shadows would feed your fears.
I’ll shut my eyes to the devil
Who I know never appears.

And the cracking and squeaking of floorboards
Which I know is only the dust
Settling because of nothing
And nothing because it must.

The answers are all that I have
To guard me against my fears.
Which are none because I know when the night comes
The devil never appears.

A Mythological Beast
A red dawn is on the horizon
Spreading its glow to warm the cool grey clouds.
The shadows are freezing and shaking.
With fright they watch the warmth
they can not yet feel but it is
red like blazing flames, such a contrast
to the dark beyond.
To see it heats the soul and knowledge
flows out like lava –
The day is coming, believe it or not
This moment is not timeless as it seems.
The blackness clinging beneath the
copse of trees will be beaten down
And yes, even this forbidden sunrise
of blood red – prophecy the finish of everything
will give to a blue day with white clouds
and green grass.  The grass will not
stay orange, the clouds will not stay red,
the leaves will not stay yellow,
the shadows will be beaten down.
And the evil hot red sun will be lost and gone.

And catching some fish
– and the excitement
And pride.
And taking it back
To watch it get cleaned.
And frying it up – with bread crumbs and butter.
And eating it.

My guiltless shame
I feel ashamed of the
  colour of my skin
Of the things they did
  before I was born
I am afraid of my future
  of holocaust and of hell.
I want to punish their ignorance
Unfeeling murderers of people
  and the environment.
All of the bloodshed
has scared me.
I am a child crying
  to be unheard.
What have I got
  to look forward to?
They’ve poisoned the earth
  with their fucking mistakes.
All that I have
  is the word of LOVE
  to uphold me.
I am a child crying
  to be unheard
And unheard I fear
  I might always remain.

I’ve forgotten my heritage
Forgotten my home
I’ve forgotten the distance
Of being alone.

Think, the tears crystallize in cloudforms,
Breathing, the air comes out so cold
And crunching, my steps through the snow relieve me.
The birds in the trees so bold.

And in this place
Of friends and warmth
My heart is an oven
With good things inside
And we will partake of this happiness
And I will remember
I remember

Running, the hooves pound through forests
And singing we all gather round
The messenger is coming
Just listen to the sound.

Running, the hooves pound through forest
Green, and rushing river
And trodden path leads me on
Through the fairyland, hither
Unto a place within my mind
Of all that I hold dear
The messenger has come for me
My memories are clear.

And in the sky I feel it near me
The kitchen and the hearth
For I’ve found my home in just one place
The place I call the heart.

He becomes insane
Spastically, with curious injunction
But without any hindrance of the mind
An infraction of space, of meaning
An infraction on linear time
A caustic overlayance of harping
Deceive, make all blind…

Stop it, my lover
You deceive me
End this,
Make me blind

A curious injunction of terrible fear
Of strappings, of knifepoints
Of  faucets, of mindsets
The groping of terrible insanity
The shirking, the stabbing, the whine
that high-pitched screeching

My lover,
end this,
Make me deaf
Send me flowers,
Lay me down

The blade-edge, the bleeding,

My lover, my lover.

My God, Why Have I Forsaken Thou?
Cynicism is my Saviour
And the T.V. is my Christ.
I worship every week-night
My church – a Poltergeist.

Sex and violence are my sacraments
And I partake of them with zeal.
Our nation is crucified on Lay-Z-Boys.
The Last Supper is a T.V. meal.

So screw-off with all your hope and talk.
Just shut-up and watch the screen.
The Last Temptation is a doorway
And life on both sides is nothing but mean.

Ode to the Guard
Sitting at my little cage
And sucking on my pen lid
I am crying, hungry, pleading inside…
Storming, angry and heated.

I am lost at my beige and brown little cage
I am trapped in my little orange chair.
I am a captive of fluorescing lights
I am poisoned by the stagnant air.

The windows are cellophane wrappers.
The life painted on them a dream.
Reality is numbers flowing between my ears.
Reality is just what it seems.

The chains are weighing me downwards
But what is good for you is killing me.
And soon there will be nothing left.

I like boys
And bubbles and trees.
But most I like boys
Even their knees!

I like their hands
And the way they talk.
I like their faces
And the way they walk.

I like their minds
And their suffering pain.
But I really hate their attitude
‘Cause it forms my chains.

Written during a class on Robert Frost’s “The Death of the Hired Man”
The glass  was shattered.
Was his soul.
Was the note on the table
because he felt so cold.
And leaving the room
  was the bright wing of hope.
The sun that had warmed his blood.
And darkness descended
like a tightly drawn veil
like a plastic bag
    round a baby’s head
Like a flag of glory
    stained with red
Like lovers met
    on a burning bed
Like flowers covered
    with layers of lead
Like all these things
    that now are dead.
The man sat down
and a tear rolled ‘round.
And what he felt
was never said.
A Legend
    This land was inhabited by a people.   They believed that the sun gave wisdom, the earth gave strength, the wind gave life and the rain cleansed and the snow made you peaceful – all was very healthy, all was understood but many were greedy because they did not know why man was here? Only to enjoy these things?  Some felt guilty and gave to a god.  Some just gave to this ‘god’ because they were greedy (want of wisdom=religion).
    When the sun decided to teach the land a little wisdom and teach the people a little wisdom and it made the grass yellow, the people had to move and they were the smarter for their learning of  things.  But one old, old man – weathered and wrinkled by the sun did not want to move.  He was too old and knew he would die on such a trip so he sat quietly while they packed and was quietly left behind.  Because the man lived with just the sun he felt very wise, and living alone with just the earth made him strong, so he survived many snows, the snows of winter.  He was lonely at first but it made him peaceful.  The rain cleansed him of all but the sun and earth and snow and wind – which he danced with.  The man became so grateful he was almost bursting.  He knew he wanted to become one with all of his friends.  What could HE give THEM?

AND THEN HE SMILED  and he realized that HUMANS are here to give LOVE. It was a REVELATION!


I’m having a party and guess who’s invited?

Siddhartha, Jesus and Mohammed.

Let’s invite the descendents from Adam to Saul,

Mary and Krishna, Brahma, Vishnu,

Ge, the Pantheon headed by Zeus

Let’s invite the Egyptians, Nut, Amen-Ra

Let’s invite the animist Gods and Goddesses

The snakes bears cougars turtles totems

I’m having a party and they’re all invited.

I’m even inviting the idols –Baal, Money, Beauty, and Fame.

I’m not inviting Satan ’cause Christ will just kick him out anyway.

It’s a nice, warm party with spiced apple cider, Christmas cookies and holly.

Dionysus spikes the punch and things get a little wild.

Brahma’s whirling Vishnu and Shiva around in wild circles,

the Pantheon’s rollicking drunk and Zeus is after Mary.

The descendants are dancing Hora on the pool table in the basement.

Saul is sliding down the banister, and the animal Gods and Goddesses are taking turns catching him.

The idols are trying to tape themselves to the wall.

The Egyptians are dancing on the lawn and

Mohammed, blessed by God, is harnessing his horse up for another night ride off the roof top.

The rafters are shaking the window frames shudder and who’s in the kitchen?

Jesus and Buddha are seated at the table smiling at each other.

Merry Christmas!