Skylight Above The Flight Of Grey Dragons (Audio)

Old MadDonald (2012) Part 1

In Loving Silence (Audio)

A Lamp Post (Audio)

Likeness And Form

they
worship themselves for they hate creation
they
cannot buy or own the real wealth
that from before our timewas gifted to all for free
love consummated consciousness 
gifting everlasting meaning and truth and beauty
all that poison they could not let be
what we cannot create let us own and twist and destroy
and destroy and twist
and appropriate without mercy..

so they covet their dark mythologies as with stones and paper
and soon the cbdc
all to accumulate ever more barren wasteland treasure
and even as their tightening fists atrophy and lose circulation
they may not have noticed their own clotting systems
and what a supreme irony for these draining and damning magicians
these violators 
these inverters of meaning and creation..

they
laugh hollowly and mockingly at the success of their rolling deceptions
all those machinations weaved
all their sacrificial deluded medalled minions dangling
all their oh-so-clever thefts and poisonings and false histories
all their monetised bread and circus distractions and campaigns
all the fear
all the terror and trauma
all the stultification
all the theft
all the division
all the misdirection 
all the misery..

yet perhaps they weep
they only bow before themselves so perhaps they weep
ruling only for thousands of years
is a figment within a speck 
their bloodlines will vanish
be vanquished with extreme prejudice in less than one blink..

but will all the suffering inflicted be revealed
acknowledged and released
how can the dead be healed
what kind of justice will be done
what kind of justice has been done
why so often does justice remain to be seen..

the pendulum must swing
the witness transmits and receives
the flow stores and records
and if the cosmos is conscious greater consciousness knows
perhaps down here in this dense realm
the deeper truths remain crushed
was it ever different..

so though in every-which-way
they hold for us the deepest unfathomable hate
much of which must be self-projection
looking out and over all their spoils
sabering their champagne
what do they see and say to themselves
i for one am thankful i am not them
for though i have achieved little i can have restful sleep
and that is its own precious gift..

it seems we have not reached our aims quite yet
so let us roll out the next project..
for some reason we have not quite had our fill 
our appetites not quite yet quenched
we need to work out what is missing
it is not within ourselves..

the real elite perhaps too lost to weep
rage against mysterious flitting messengers hatcheting their dreams
all their slaves that have given them everything
everything except salved souls 
souls and minds so utterly deformed utterly degenerated
with perversions so base you would not believe it..

so demolished and corrupted and blinded
is there still time for them
do they ever dare gaze into their own devolved monster eyes
do they ever raise their sight upward beyond their reigning
do they ever glimpse so much as a flash of fleeting pure golden-silver light
do they ever say perhaps there is another way
                          perhaps there is still time..

what else must we take
despite our predation
there is still far too much love and empathy out there
despite all we have taken and all we have done
there is still so much love and empathy
and mercy
out there
what have we got wrong..

we have not quite eviscerated the infernal rebelling creation
how do these unswerving rebel-lines generationally remain so strong
to what mysterious invisible power do they believe they belong
and how on earth in their eyes does this power manifest..

Once Before An Unbroken Time/Strange Familiars/Two Conscipts (Audio Recordings)

Once Before An Unbroken Time
https://youtu.be/veYhbourFKQ

Strange Familiars
https://youtu.be/2zJ7Cha2xWE

Two Conscripts
https://youtu.be/bpesJLI4S5o

Senseless Sensibility

i hate your writings
i hate your host
i hate your readers
i hate your photos
i hate your mind
i hate your kind
you have violated my very own personal community guidelines..

i randomly flag up your scribblings just for fun
i will spam your platform moderators until they finally succumb
i shall crater you invisible so justifiable are my concerns
you make my much fine-tuned mind boil and burn..

who on earth do you think you are
i am monitoring you covertly from near and afar
you have no idea what i can do to you
i have friends in high places unlike guess who..

i wish to slay your very so-so artistic muse
i dream of squirting your eyes shut with industrial glue
if that sounds a tad extreme you have pushed me to this
your sensibilities so vex me why are you attacking all my feelings..

so i have nothing more to share with you
except your views utterly disgust me through and through
and though i have stated this to you many times before
next week and next month and next year i shall missive you some more
for civilised liberal society needs saving from crazies like you
and please do not dare reply me
though being the selfish scumbag you are you never do..

oh
and by the way and before i sign off
please know that i am absolutely sure no-one reads your multi-talentless guff
you are seriously deluded if you think you will ever be recognised
wow my god how entitled you are
you seriously
seriously 
seriously
should get a life..

For In All This Aching Beauty..

rotating the numb grey kaleidoscope
hues and textures of scraped-up old snow
as liminal as heaps of ash swirls
another year melds and melts
layers and layers of static and stasis overlay
the glinting glowering fractals sharded
offer their spindly morphing branches for perching mocking owls
and how they stare as you seem to sway..

lush hints of emeral jar
wavering beams of unenticing sunlight threaten to only melt and blind and bake
falllen crimson leaves splash their spilt rusted drops
the baleful moon as cold as saturn relates..

in patches angular reeds so stark break through
cracking the icy lake
where water gushes and gulps for oxygen
timorous gasping fish bubble up as if for prayer
blasts of trapped poison steam-release
and float up to seal away the heavens
from the fathomless deep where only oily darkness dwells..

but ovals of smoke rise and spiral and elongate from a different valley distant
are they signals of rescue
or cries for help
or deeply encoded messages for the long-lost but open-hearted traveller
come hither..come hither
there is something here for you
follow the charcoaled trails on sapphire..

follow the charcoaled trails on sapphire..
gently walk past the deer oracles as their onyx eyes gaze upon you
at nightfall the curlicues of smoke plumes will still visibly mark the cobalt night
regard the scent trails entwining falling rain as limpid shadow-light 
your eyes so accustomed to grey so vivid will be the unextinguished lick of flame
so nocturnal you will so easily discern the distant sparks veiled 
pain can still offer ways away
pain can still tilt your world a warmer way..

follow the charcoaled trails on sapphire
and allow the iridescence of the moonlit dew drop necklaces to star-wish for you
and when the dawn rises inhale the bracing and rich petrichor nectar
even the yielding soil and fallen twigs generously teem with purposeful cycles
and you are immersed as part of this so let the embracing ozonic air cleanse you
and wash away your copious tears of salt so draining
that distant birdsong can heal you
that distant birdsong hears you..
for in all this aching beauty
is the you of this 
in all of this..

Hopeful Entanglement

a fifth dimensional butterfly flutters its wings
a third dimensional earth ascends..

Best Of..Bitter Boomer Love Songs (Reissued Reissue)

of that heavy muskcentric bygone era crows another deep-boiled scrotum turnip
for here breathes the fetid breath of a stellar exhibit zed of zed
an oxygen thief astronaut trolling carbon dioxide
a constant headline fixture of grim rubber-stamped charity benefits..

the blood-shot-eyed quadruple valve charisma bypass superstar
betrays his colonic passage of time
swamp integrated and irrigated with trashed hotel destruction
and gorged and despatched and spat-out flare-pantied fans
discarded memories lie by the venus flytrap-lined highway
his clenched sphincter pupils crack lizard lines
the envy of a draco monarch..

swiss alps-high of a certain nasal mist
snorted 
face filled with enough plastic puss to crazy-pave an indonesian landfill
another boomer gravitar as warm as a raging imploding ingrown caligula
regales the smirking interviewer with his endless tales of pregnant woe
there he sits in front of an empty green-screened recording studio because..

because another reissue of the best of.. is out now..is out now..is out now..
just so you know
for christmas
though not for more-than-casual believers of jesus
though perhaps very wise men might want to gift the returning special baby this
should it seed the idea later on to smash to smithereens
a modern temple of the pharisees
sounds like a plan..

yeah i somewhat regret those days now
the money the excess
all the alpha babe sex
now it all seems so..you know
so hollow..even though i know many viewers might be impressed..
he winked at the camera..
call it guerrilla marketing
or call it something else..

do i sound ungrateful
try walking in my shoes
they always expected so much of me
so gratuitous..
did i mention that my best of..reissued reissue is out this week..
oh yeah it is out this week..

i sometimes wonder if i had led an ordinary life
whatever that is..
things might have been so much easier
my assistants harassed for backstage passes
to hound me for autographs
extensions of my flesh
youknowwhoreimean..
does that make sense..

but please do not misunderstand me
though i could mention doors of stables bolting
or something like that..
metaphors for horses methinks..

sometimes i wish i never met all those..
what can i say
i was a babe-magnet
not boasting..still am..
in retrospect and we have to ask
did they enhance me as an artist
we have to ask..

that said i still managed to write some great and fabulous songs
they are on my best of..the reissued reissue out in time for christmas..
you could see it as a spiritual thing if that helps..

yeah so the reissued reissue best of..is out for christmas..
has new and deeper sleeve notes
and a previously unreleased acoustic version of deep-fried egyptian pharoah..

curled up on the bed watching tv
an elegant woman of a certain vintage..
flinches..
she instinctively stares across at a faded photograph of her younger self
the picture encased in a pretty little silver frame
nestles with others on the dresser by the nightstand..

she is caressed by the star in the aftershow party he invited her to
how could she forget
there she offers him the most dazzling sweet smile
obviously besotted she gazes up at his narrower eyes..

she reaches for the frame and considers pulling out the photograph
with a rueful smile she shakes her head
what did i see in him..
yeah i know..
and what did i learn..

she hears a door click open
her adult son strolls into the kitchen
and yes from a certain angle..

she gazes again at the photograph
no..still no regrets..
though you fool..you will never know..
she places the photo frame in a box
she switches to another channel..

no my collection of rare cars feels more like a burden
you could call it the zen art of investments
protecting my portfolio is a full-time job
i have to fork out the coin for three full-time accountants
see what i mean..

yeah so my best of..reissue is out now
at the end of the day it is all about love
thank goodness i still have that
despite everything i still love my fans..
oh and did i mention..

..her son sporting the most silly beaming smile siddles up to her
his hands playfully hidden behind his back..

then he flourishes the most beautiful bunch of irises
wafting the air with the most delicate of scents..
happy birthday mum..
love you so much..

they hug
generating the silence so warm
the bond unbreakable..