Genesis

There is a new planet
forming in my head.
It is one of comfort
& a cool air about it.

This space in my life,
This is a dot in the grand.
What is to come,
There is so much more.

My life is for the taking,
I dont think it will be long.
before its over,
Lets have a good time!

The demons are in the corner,
I can dismiss or
accept them, conquer them.
Demolish, corrupt.

There is a light,
I dont think it is god.
But there is more.
I am sure of it.

Love beckons,
Climbing up that mountain.
Living, breathing the same
Being together, mostly apart.

The clouds swirl around,
where is the keystone?
The future needs one.
A building block.

New life, new destiny.
Is it in him, Am I him?
Whenever I am going,
I think the course is discourse.

Wrapped in ivy,
Vines to the damsel,
I will be freed,
Or die trying.

The Well of French Serial Killers

How to you keep yourself fabulous?
When next to a french person,
Who talks in poetry
even of the worse things.

Think of a noir, a french noir.
You're to fall in love with the nearest lunatic.
You've been told to do so.
The lunatic narrates it.

The lunatic breeds at the brewery,
On the evil yeast of doom.
This is no doom for the larks.
This doom is everlasting.

Forever to be pulled back from the gloom
of doom.
Cant even write a paragraph
Without falling into it.

There is always my persona,
The personality behind each venture.
That betrays the fierce and the stupid.
The stupid comes clear most.

But I can see the light,
The stupor has been weakened.
It grabs me so much more less.
Lest it be gone soon.

Oh then what a life,
The dramatic love should flood
the barriers of my existence
and dwell there, for a while.

The Empty Candy Plastic Container

These things that hold the most.
The inhospitable things that poison and carry
Your mind, your obsession.
The smoke, fumes, melancholy tunes.

 
In my container, it holds the secret,
The silent whisper of contentment,
of said numbness, confusing and such.
Little things grate the mind on the grater.

Don't confuse the fusion of the minds.
Profound statements are bullshit.
Bullshit is a profound statement.

Mind you dont fuse the confusion.

The Many Moons of Jupiter

In this restless time of doing nothing,
I look around my room and I quiz
The many deep ends of my heart.
They respond in numbness.

I can walk a lot of miles,
Beats drumming through my head.
Pushing me, driving me, forging me
Into what? Not what is me.

What I feel is not me, the desire
To be better, clean, moral and good.
The destructive force wants to hurt.
The force wants to weaken.

Out and away to Glasnevin someday.
These hands dont carry those forgotten
weights of dead. The dramatic the norm.
Oh those who folly love and death.

virtual lover

I've met him all before,
Twisted beauty of what I want
Twisted as I never know what that is
He can be many things but he becomes the one
Thing, that, this, it all that is all required for the heart.

What of this heart,
I fear it,
Loose.
Beggars have knocked on its door,
Beggars who deserve better.
But I made them feel,
What they were.

Too good, or me too bad
for them. Confused.
I is. Backwards, english is
disgusting. Womb hatred.

Emptiness is where I find it,
want so much more,
like the rest have it.

Dont I deserve it?

Redundant

I've been made redundant.

Like:
Cassette Tapes
Paraffin Lamps
The horse and cart
The Steam Engine
The Car Phone
Bertie Ahern (no relation)(thank christ)
The Delorean
Tomorrow's World (loved that show)
Charlie Dimmock
Religion (I'm hoping. any day now)
Sega Mega Drive
The Public Telephone Box
The word Bourgeois (so seventies)
Tenemants 
Small Pox

But I hope that I'm vintage
like:
all of the above (except small pox cause that was just nasty)

Shallow

I feel shallow,
if I was to dive into myself
I'd hit my head.

Concussion, bleed.
Maybe letting it out
would do me good.

I want to go,
to an empty forest
and scream.

Someone always hears,
these days.
I cannot get away.

But in the rush,
the meandering bustle
I stand raging.

Little occurances,
drive me to the shallow,
the nectar.

I swallow the shallow,
it poisons me.
But it does some good.

I see a way out,
its so close.
Don't fuck it up.

I might just,
Maybe the trees will
listen.