a regional variation

poor patrick

he left his manners

in the freezer

he left his keys

inside the door

his eyes on the camera

his face in the sink

hands where I can see them

hands where I can see them

future lies in knives

oh did I say knives

I meant science science

all that simple happy-go-lucky

loyal suntanned lamb-chop plastic

all that simple happy-go-lucky

loyal suntanned lamb-chop plastic

while I’m pissing black seeds

through the darkness

barking at dogs

from me to you

a duct-tape

a chair full of white memories

a pool full of mute evidence

of love

and my fripp and my bonavox 

and my feeding on strangers

and my angstschreeuw 4 AM

and my handmade evil in a glass

and my hair-conditioned path to glory

is just a regional variation

my chainsaw them

my tonguescalated them

whorenaments for every home

welcome to the seizure dome

my eyesight’s fine thank you

my mindsight’s fine thank you

War and peace

War is at war with peace
Peace is at peace with war
If peace is for ''cease''
and war is for ''more''
Then what on Earth
Should I be fighting for

All that jazz

I … continental current keeps me teasing the disease

You… pray to Norman Mailer to ease the malaise

I… run on rainwater aching for a call

You… book the book flight and just say nothing at all

All that blood

All that jazz

Wasted days

Wasted ways

I… befriend a friend but all I get is the neck

You… defend a boy-band with a toy-sword in hand

I… bent like a wire on fire but straighten again

You… broke like a spoke you choke on clean air

All that blood

All that jazz

Wasted days

Wasted ways








May 2010

Agnostic

Who makes your bed?

Who holds your head when

You spit the lead?

Where do I look for you?

In dälek?

In sound check booth?

I want the truth

Are you Eno-synth?

Or too innocent

To let me drown

Pull me up

Then pull me down down?

Who makes my bed?

Who holds my head

When I spit the lead?

Am I in you?

Or in ’64?

Or in Tokyo?

Do you take me for dead

When you walk on by

Never saying hi?

Why didn’t I

Let you drown

And pull you up

Just to pull you down down?

thalidomide

something’s wrong

something’s missing

rembrandt’s arm remnants remain reasonably raw

jeronimo jumps on one leg

lennon lies dis-limbed

ringo’s missing the ring-finger

unknown stretches stretch to catch me

be my aid

my arm extension

since my soul’s already there

queing at sear’s

getting in touch with my inner self

converting black market basements

into a white wide consumer

‘cause somebody spiked my soda with something

I felt it inside my womb while growing still

and I gave birth

to a wrong idea

an abomination

doomed to ask for help to fetch the coat

I have both arms

but I cannot fly

I have both legs

but I cannot walk on water

I know

I know there is someone somewhere sitting at the semi-sap-green table listening to Coltrane thinking now now is it high enough thinking there must be someone somewhere sitting at the semi-sap-green table listening to Coltrane ‘cause all roads lead to Coltrane before before you fly right down. I know that there is someone somewhere sitting drawing a straight line turning to a curve sliding down thinking there must be someone somewhere sitting drawing a straight line with the hand that fails with the hand that fails and slides into a curve some things are just out of hand. I know that there is someone somewhere lying in an unmade bed barefoot leaving and leaving without leaving thinking there must be someone somewhere lying in an unmade bed leaving leafless sliding down with no one to say goodbye to. I know there is someone somewhere thinking there must be someone somewhere thinking there is someone somewhere thinking there is someone somewhere.

                                                   october 2010.

the photography taken from here: http://johncoltraneonline.wordpress.com/

F.O. (Ghost Town)

He who broke it

Is he who spoke it

Pussycat waver

Fancy hat sporting

His fancy half supporting

The cat and the rat

He who named it

Should've eaten it

Tiger shirt waver

Long hair sporting

Glued to his mat

What a rat

He who said it

Is he who meant it

And what do you know:

The same person tomorrow

As he was months ago

As if he didn't know

He who named it

Should've eaten it

And I would've taped it

Then I would've framed it

Whether to continue or to drop it

Does he want it or doesn't want it

The top priority? It's hard to say

But sticks to his better half anyway

Speaks

About grand things

Music kings

But tied to a cog

Stupid frog

And he doesn't see me

And I don't see him

I've left those streets

Long time ago

I play ghost town

Two eternities in a row

2006.

A shade in the dark

Rubik’s cube

London tube

Hypnotist

Writes a list

Well you said you wanted to hang around now

Well this is the time to hang around now

Talk forever about the lever

Eloquent nun, well-fed son

Did they threaten they’ll cut rewire the wire

Did they threaten they’ll tell everyone you’re a liar

Just a shade in the dark

You’re just a shade in the dark

A mirage in the park

Just a shade in the dark

Clench the fist

You say where

Nihilist

You say chair

Trace the train that calls to Coltrane

Biding my time on platform five

Walk forever around the lever

Selling my guns to some eloquent nuns

I lower my eyes and to my surprise

I see through my palm too late to be calm

Just a shade in the dark

I’m just a shade in the dark

A mirage in the park

Just a shade in the dark 

How great the view

How could you ever sleep again?

How do you sleep at all anyway?

The windows won’t wail

The walls won’t wail

The wisemen would not war your wars

You are alone

On your own.

And you should be one, not two nor three, it was never me, and you know it, you knew it, and they knew it too, I’d never tell, I’d cover for you, it’s true

But when I ask if we shall bask

Admire the fire at close quarters

You fake a frown, a Warhol clown

You send me down

Through the window pane.

You always say

You love to admire the instant

As a distant relative

Imagine the instance

From a great distance.

And I know you still do

‘Cause I’m watching you

But you can’t see me

I go in, I go out, the wires hissing

Trying to tell you

You never knew

How great the view

You’re missing.

You spitting pills

I spitting glass

You swallowing uppers

I swallowing splinters

Say, do you have a great view?

Do you have a great view from up there?

May 2011

a morning piss

there is water

somewhere

I know ‘cause I heard about rain

I saw them

carying the canisters

in very long processions

that made me humanly desaturated

justify my teeth of a non-smoker

paint someone’s pathetic friends

into something daily edible

I’m a heatbody enough to know the difference

between the presence and the un-presence

sometimes there is no difference

meadows of ovens that shine from afar

a mercy for a matinnee with a cancer lisp

as sure as a morning piss

as sure as flying saucers flying over antwerp

the lights are out the staff’s gone home

nothing left to cut the skin the liar on

no one left to talk to myself to talk

all the mouths I won’t make laugh

are paying for my seat

but the muscle of all muscles is awol 

if you come back

I promise I’ll paint you back with black

the body and the no-body

the beauty and the cellar

remember me I am the enemy 

just give me the moment

I’ll buy me the moment

when my throat shrivels to a ripcord

through which nothing can pass

not even the key to the room

out of the gloom

into the bliss

of all things dark small and edible

as sure as a morning piss

as sure as flying saucers flying over antwerp

play it again

I say play it again sam

oh god do you know

what’s going on down below

promise you’ll know what it means

promise they’ll know what it means

promise they’ll know how how much how deep

without dysinfection

digested for masses by the strangers with glasses

full weight

right through the heart clean shave

through the muscle of all muscles

when I can’t be a miracle

may I at least be a shoulder

me I’m hollow

I can swallow

anything

as long as there’s a colour to miss

my hand’s grateful for being able to write this

as sure as a morning piss

as sure as flying saucers flying over antwerp

  

                                                                                    

 January 2011

Egan

Twisting all the way

He came down south looking for a savior

Been out for a day (Looking for a way)

To figure out figures and this strange behavior

Figures don’t speak to him

Figurines are dim and grim

Sylphs and syllogisms don’t live in symbiosis

Blessed be him who invented prognosis

Jiving all the way

He came down south looking for a savior

Been gone for days (Looking for a way)

To remember, to forget, to filtrate, perpetuate

Yes, maybe he’ll write about it later

Figures don’t speak to him

Figurines are dim and grim

Sylphs and syllogisms don’t live in symbiosis

Blessed be him who invented prognosis

Twisting all the way

Looking for the man whose records he plays

His shoe laces do not obey

Finding that corner, he thought of some famous words to say

The shiny piece of iron dearly paid

After that, everything fades to grey

Figures don’t speak to him

Figurines are dim and grim

Sylphs and syllogisms don’t live in symbiosis

Blessed be him who invented prognosis

So that we always know

When to show off with our new umbrellas

While the world is falling down

Dancing all the way

Looking for a man who’ll hear him play

Before everything fades to grey

The holy man put his hand on him

He stopped dancing

Collapsing with a grin

His chin on some children’s chalk sketch

And ink swallowing everything

They cut him open to satisfy the press

But no answers whatsoever

The body weighed forty pounds less

The heavy man weighed light as a feather

talk to me

talk to me

talk to you

a blind man talking to a deaf man

talking with the hunger unknown to a grown man

lines of a life of a lifelong waiting in line

this is how it feels (this is) how it kills when you don’t

talk to me

talk to me

you and I talking with the dead eye

of a soul of a severed salmon with black rye

black tie black light dressing for dressing for a stone fight

this is how it feels (this is) how it kills when you

talk to me

talk to me

a clayman moaning to a layman

you and him talking always only you and him talking away time

coffin bedridden access forbidden

yes I know the drill this is how it feels when I

talk to you

talk to you

anybody

anybody

behold fiber cord

the word of the lord like glue

miles of one-man walk

I just want to talk to you

talk to me

talk to me

July 2010

believeher (holy holy)

he’s been telling me about the roses

shut up shut up shut up

I don’t want to hear the name

he’s been telling me about the hoses

shut up shut up shut up

I don’t want to hear the name

check the facett check the boiler

check the iron check the oven

check the door check the lock

doublecheck doubleshock

the gardener’s not really a gardener

the son is not really a father

the beginning is not really the end

I can move my cellphone with my eyes on the book

I can talk to jesus with my hands on the meathook

he made me a stranger

in my own house

he gave me a list of names

now I’m stuck in this place

eating lactose-free meat

with a wooden spoon.

but I have a needle.

and a lifeful of time.

a needle in the father’s eye

a spear in the son’s thigh

do it by the book

hands on the meathook

what I believe in

I do believe in

are you tapeing

are you receiving

hands

hands taking

hands talking

helping hand

was in command

hands in need

hands that feed

hands that rock

cradles in the dark

hands that move

hands that prove

that I moved

your heart or not

hands of a savior

hands of a governor

hands of a Native American

hands of Tony Levin

hands talking

(you don’t need to talk)

don’t feel like talking

(we don’t need talk)

all I need

is to see your hands

show me.

show me

your hands.

your hands

like the hands of god.

John Does

No one knows. Where to go. When they fly low.

No one knows. Where to go. When they fly low.

A crack in the aisle. A crack in the smile. A crack in the head. You saw nothing, now go to bed.

An invisible compasion. A fusion of fists.

Save some souls. Save some souls.

Who do you. Who do you believe. Who do you believe in. Live in. Not me.

Don’t you say you died for me.

I’m not me.

I’m not me.

Every day. The same beggar walks on by.

Every day. The same beggar walks on by.

Every day. I give him nothing.

Every day. I give him nothing.

Today it is Monday. Yesterday it was Tuesday. Wednesday the day before.

Something pulled me in. A fusion of reds.

All they tell me is you got hit by a Porsche.  Beneath the red traffic light. In the traffic jam. Why didn’t you take your pills. Take your pills. Take your pills.

I’m not me.

I’m not me.

JOHN DOES DOZING IN THE JUNGLE DISTRICTS!

JANE DOES DOZING IN THE GERM DENS!

WHY DON’T YOU GO AND CHECK THE PULSE?

WHY DON’T YOU GO AND CHECK THE PULSE?

YOU PROMISED THE DEAD SHALL RISE!

HE WHO BELIEVETH IN ME HE SHALL LIVE!

SO WHY DON’T YOU GO AND CHECK THE PULSE??

F.B.I.   D.E.A.   ROSWELL DAY.   D.N.A.

F.B.I.   D.E.A.   ROSWELL DAY.   D.N.A.

F.B.I.   D.E.A.   ROSWELL DAY.  D.N.A.

F.B.I.   D.E.A.   ROSWELL DAY.   D.N.A.

F.B.I.   D.E.A.   ROSWELL DAY.   D.N.A.

pink doll

(I see rua and)

I’m too brave for suicide

(I see rua and)

I’m too much a coward to be alive

(I see rua and)

I pay tribute to the floor

(I see rua)

I always get up wanting more

If I stuck a pin through your skin

would you bleed to death or stand like a stone?

I stopped breathing for a minute

when I became aware of it

the magical minute had gone

(I started breathing again)

but the beauty lingers on

long after the milk’s turned sour

long after the happy hour

when all the drinks are for free

except me

some will never even know my name

some will never even know my name

60.000 t-shirts didn’t know my name

smoke induced eyes whisper

who’s that little woman

smoke induced eyes whisper

who’s that little woman

with a pen as big as her heart

with a head as heavy as her heart

it’s never too late

for a bait prose

but it’s too late (now)

for a water hose

    

photography taken from:  http://www.songkick.com/festivals/631-pinkpop/id/3881751-pinkpop-festival-2010/posters/1366196

Hidden

sound-illuminous broken bloom
scared into gloom.
he might let you into his room
but you can't shoot sweet dart
into his heart.
his prison is poison to all
reason within a reason
why did he ever fall.
we miss him all.
hey, painter
hey you, rose of clay
the weather is nice today
come out to play
but I'm content if you say
you're happy your own way.

monte casino

i’ve been in bars

i’ve been in cellars

the smell of fear drove me near

had someone seen him sleeping here

i’ve been to mars

i’ve been to vegas

still no sign or thought or deal

that someone saw him signing in

and all he told me is: keep knocking

i’ve seen bombs                 (one)

i’ve heard bells                   (voice)

i’ve seen saints                   (that moves)

in their robes                      (one sound)

i’ve had the noise               (ice)

i’ve had the flashes             (on sand)

i’ve seen the bodies            (blood)

on the ropes                       (coagulates)

i’ve seen the band              (rhythm)

rows of hands                    (is on)

skin and bones                   (child)

humble drones                   (in me)

i’ve seen the king               (white)

i’ve seen the queen            (as a lilly of the valley)

i’ve banged the drums        (scarf)

i’ve drank the blood           (on the staircase where she hung)

i’ve been in water               (black)

i’ve been in sand                (it comes)

i sank and swam                (at night)

binge and purge                 (when i’m out of my body)

i’ve been in air                   (one)

i’ve seen them stare           (is the name)

i’ve bent the space            (of the wholeness)

i’ve bent the time              (in me)

i’ve seen the cities            (from there)

underground                    (no return)

i’ve seen the cities            (no one)

underground                    (to tell me)

and in the hole deep and dim

I FOUND HIM

from there

no return

no one to tell me

what is there

i climb

i climb

i climb

i climb

up

up

up

and up

Taken in Antwerp, Belgium, August 2011

pugilistic

a wonderful trade

behind the shade

all braded up

in branches

no one to trust

to incinerate combust

better than yourself self

better than yourself self

to be then put on a shelf

in a small vessel expensive

alive forever like a pharaoh

lucky and pensive.

art in motion

no sun-tan lotion

red yellow orange white

the sum of all things

the colours I see

as I sit in the tree

waiting for the fire

to start loving me

wondering what’s wrong

but I knew it all along

try fry fight

live wire with fire

try fry fight

fight fire with fire

no burn marks no bone char no soot

no use crying no use crying

just dust the boots dust the suit

return and mingle

ransome and mingus

reed and morrissey

rye bread and metaphase     

photography taken from:  http://airbrushdoc.com/download/fire-reference-pack/

After Midnight Blues

I’m losing it

This joke is confusing

So stop using it

Stop fusing it

All we have is the name.

What’s in a name?

The willow.

Upon my pillow.

My nose kissed the red polyester bag.

The jugglers with white faces

Rudely awoke me

My nose kissed the red polyester bag.

All we have is the name.

So what’s in a name?

Lazarus.

I’m alive, he said, look at me.

The words.

You’ll find the words engraved in the wooden bowl. Well, it’s safe and hidden, and that’s all that matters.

I’m awake, he said, look at me.

Just in time for midnight tea

Walking in those eastern shoes

Singing after midnight blues.

Well, how was it then?

Well, how is it like there?

All we have is the name.

So what’s in a name?

Helen.

Hello. Hi. I’m Helen.

No, I don’t agree.

But, I avoid conflict.

Avoid. Avoid.

Till I’m big as a dark matter void.

And now you might be the victim.

The victim of protuberance.

May the Lord All Mighty praise the fallen. Oh me oh my!

Not a girl, nor a boy

I only wish I was Helen of Troy.

Yeah, there are many sorts of mirrors.

Some of them make you love what you see

Some of them make you hate what you see

But all of them lie.

I’m alive, I said, look at me.

Yeah, maybe we’ll meet again.

In the sea of eyes.

Hey, it’s too hot in here.

No, let me sleep a little longer

And dream on this dream.

Polyester dream. This iron dream.

This monochromatic dream.

Could somebody wake me up now?

Tomorrow’s a big day.

Hello? Hello? Hello?

Is anybody in there?

It’s hot in here.

This dream’s far too long. Am I still dreaming?

Hello?

Hello?

unruhe [dishwashers in soho]

whenever I think about dishwashers in soho

in bed at night

I pull on the sheets in terror

in case I notice my feet are uncovered

I want a lighter for my birthday

I want a lighter for my birthday

a liver that runs on sulphur

on new year’s day

he’s in the bush writing the official resolution

fishes and gasoline

the wrong huxley on a wrong day

the leather is the only way out grab onto me

I was born to be a male clerk!

there’s so much to live for!

I was born to be a kingsize bed!

there’s so much to live for!

mardi grass

four little white teeth sitting on my lap

three bony freudians filling up the gap

two dead men dining in my bedroom

I killed one - now there’s two

hangman gangman clayman dead man

in my navel in my cave

in my womb in my tomb

in my room in my room

in my bed in my head

my heart’s still pumping!

I’ve got no heart I forgot!

look my heart’s still pumping!

I’ve got no heart! I forgot!

heart piss pump red cry red snow

she shouted stop stop but I shouted more

one skinny dead man lying with no shoes

I killed one - now there’s two

one fake gardener levitating by and

twelve brooding chest inspectors cannot tell me why

two tepid dead men talk in my room

I killed two - and now there’s two

hangman gangman clayman dead man

in my navel in my cave

in my womb in my tomb

in my room in my room

in my bed in my head

my heart’s still pumping!

I’ve got no heart I forgot!

look my heart’s still pumping!

I’ve got no heart! I forgot!