They were wide, dead and empty.
They were cry dry, vibrant green.
They were gin-soaked drunken
... sunken.
( Molly's eyes I mean ).
She was dead to dread and heartache.
She was numb and would succumb
to the whims of pimps and pushers
unaware that she'd become
a crack-whore-junkie-hooker.
Injected and infected.
Disrespected by her peers.
Forgotten
and neglected.

Denial keep her ticking
and substance killed disgust,
until sobriety raised it's rare seen head
and she decide that she must
destroy the rancid shell
that housed this saddened core
so she trod the road to the station
as she often had before.
But this time,
... this time was different.
There would be no going back.
No more hiding in a bottle,
or behind the coke and crack.

She leapt to death rejoicing.
She embraced it open armed
and she uttered a prayer for the others
that the city slums had harmed.
They found her corpse beside the tracks
eyes open, wide and dead.
Death by misadventure,
the coroner had said
and no one now would miss her
or notice that she'd gone,
tell stories of her past
and sing the song of swan
or tell how they were open wide
tear soaked vibrant green
and no longer cry dry hardened

( Molly's eyes I mean ).

A man came to the door today.
Long hair, blue eyes, six three.
He said he was in the area,
giving estimates for free.
He said that he could mow the lawn,
... do any odd jobs I could find.
He made no mention of saving souls
or healing the sick or the blind.
I showed him to the garden shed,
where the tools and the mower were stored
and I noticed the scars on the palms of his hands
as he reached for the mower cord.

I said, "Are you who I think you are ?"
and he told me to lower my voice.
He made me promise to keep his secret.
He said he had no choice.
He said he'd tried to walk the road
that he thought he was meant to take
but it left him open to ridicule
and taunts of FREAK and FAKE
then psychiatric analysis,
intravenous aid
and tests that just confirmed
the diagnosis that they'd made.

" They say I'm schizophrenic," he said
and I think they may be right
because now that I take the tablets
I no longer see the light,
feel the urge to help mankind
or foretell of it's demise.
I have no interest in God and his love
or the Devil's hate and lies.
I simply mow the lawns
and fix things where I can.
I am not the son of God
I'm just an ordinary man.

It seems that modern medicine
has cured him of his ills.
Made him ordinary
with it's sugar coated pills.
Cured him of his caring.
and his passion for humanity.
Freed him from the shackles
of his obvious insanity.
But what if he was right ?
with no illness or affliction
and what if the healing,
was in fact ... a chemical crucifixion.

I'm building an ornamental mind castle
with turrets made from high ideals
and moats of endless possibilities.

Archery slits for shooting critics
and a portcullis of thick skin
to keep them out

... and keep me in.

A birthday comes but once a year,

Thank God! I hear you mutter,

That circled day on the calendar

Sets your tiny heart a-flutter!

Your creaky joints are bothersome,

Your disco days no more,

It's comfy shoes for you, my friend

And the latest bunion cure!

Your wobbly bits shake without mercy,

Your sagging parts reach to the floor,

When it's bargain day at the co-op

You're the first one out of the door!

Your wrinkles just cannot be hidden,

Tight jeans have lost their appeal,

You find yourself gazing fondly

At 'one-sizers' designed to conceal!

Oh I wish I'd looked after my legs more

And worn my support tights with pride!

Forget the latest mini skirts,

Your varicose veins they won't hide!

The bubbly you now know is Steradent

To get those chompers clean,

And the closest you get to raunchy

Is a mug of Ovaltine!

Big pants can look rather snazzy

When worn with a vest of your choosing

And elastic waists are a God-send,

When your youthful, trim figure you're losing.

You cough and sneeze now with caution,

Those tell-tale leaks are a chore

As the latest incontinence catalogue

Drops with your post to the floor!

But life isn't all doom and gloom

There are plenty of good things in store,

Cheap haircuts, concessions, a bus pass

And winceyette nighties galore!

Enjoy your celebrations,

Forget those old-age fears,

Just light another candle,

A letter came from school today,

You know the one I mean,

"We've head lice in our school again,

Please check your child's head's clean."

The chemist sold us vile shampoo,

It smelled like neat Domestos,

"It's guaranteed to work!" he said,

"And never mind the hair loss!"

I parted the hair with caution,

To take a look within,

Did that move? Oh God, I hope not,

No, I think it's just dry skin!

The plastic combs are nifty

For checking pristine locks,

They also come in handy

For de-fuzzing winter socks.

"But, Mum, my head's all itchy,"

The plaintive cry is heard,

"No, it can't be, all those creatures

From your scalp I'm sure I'd lured."

Stop scratching, you're imagining

Things crawling down your neck.

Now I'm itching and your father

Has become a nervous wreck.

Sit still and let me take a look,

The comb slips through with ease,

We haven't had such problems

Since next door's dog had fleas.

I know you don't like plaits,

But it's on the list of "do's,"

And with ribbons and a slide or two,

You've nothing much to lose.

I hope the school appreciates

The trouble that I've taken,

To guarantee those nits and lice

My child's head have forsaken.

I've combed and searched, the job's complete,

We've all been disinfected,

And now my child can rest at ease

It doesn't matter how so plain
Or rough the crust may be,
The kernel is what truly counts
The part we cannot see.

A piece of land perceived as good
And ripe for human toil
May yet prove unproductive
Without the proper soil.

Can we appraise the sabre
While still within its sheath,
Or comprehend the ocean
Unless we look beneath?

The sights we often fail to see
And thoughtlessly pass by
May yet be those that satisfy
The palate, not the eye.

Subtly, so subtly, the workings of Time
Must alter the shape of the outer shell
Of a body once vibrant and moulded so well!
Slowly, but surely, like a wood-boring worm,
Out of the gloom of a perilous clime,
Firm in the grasp of a seasonable term,
Comes the chill-laden wintry spell
Of sad infirmity in a dismal sphere;
Lost in the woods of a cherished dream,
In the thickening fog of Nature's scheme,
Midst muffled sounds of distant strains,
Are earlier years that knew no fear
Of time and age; what now remains
Eternity must rightly redeem.

I hear the same old sound of people groaning,
The same old cries of cruel death and mourning,
All mingled with the sounds of joy and scorn,
Words of trust and hope for those forlorn.

I hear sweet words of unity and peace,
Voices of affliction and disease;
Wails of pain in genocidal wars,
Dismal echoes of enslaving laws,

Songs of faith, equality and love,
All well-embraced by Heaven high above;
I hear of better times with liberty,
Prosperity without disparity,

Mad terrorists uttering savage cries,
Committed to Democracy's demise.
Are these what life is really all about?
Oh, weary ear, and ever-restless mouth!

The fragile span of Memory's bridge,
Through Life's most unexpected phase,
In a bitter spell of mental chill
Soon disappears in swirls of haze,
The crossing between now and then
Being lost in Time's cerebral maze.

There loom the hunting fields or years,
No matter what the numbers be,
Across which stalks in silence grave,
Alzheimer, subtle, wild and free,
Cold and totally unsparing -
A terrible blight on Memory.

Alzheimer's clammy claws of pain
Reaches deeper through Life's core
While evening shadows creep into
Nights much darker than before,
As the ship of life is berthed safe
Along its one and only shore.

I'm on a dream bus cruising
Through highways of my mind -
Highways of my choosing,
So clearly well-defined,

Where scenes are so inviting -
Refreshing as I travel
With feeling so exciting,
While mysteries unravel.

Together with my kindred souls
I find much comfort musing;
Worthy sights my mind extols,
Thank Heaven I'm not losing!

Oh, like me the're many who
Take in sights appealing,
Traveling mentally right through
Highways of good feeling.

Where good fortune ever greets,
There certainly I'll be,
Exactly where Fulfilment meets
With stark Reality.

In darkness he was light over the din
For his was the brightest star in the sky
He will be smiling as we think of him

Giver and keeper of his loving kin
His shoulders upon which we could rely
In darkness he was light over the din

The angel’s song can now truly begin
On our shoulders now may he reside
He will be smiling as we think of him

Let him give us strength and hope from within
To not lose faith from the loss of our guide
In darkness he was light over the din

Remember him – flawless in everything
The honour he wore upon his chest
He will be smiling as we think of him

Opened his heart to every stray foundling
Please do not morn a body now at rest
In darkness he was light over the din
He will be smiling as we think of him

My love was born before I came to this earth
My womb too hard to be easily broken
My heart far too young to know its own worth
My yearning too far gone to be spoken

You were the saviour of a life on edge
You were the sword able to break the chest
You are the only heart to which I’m pledged
A true love, pure in simplicity’s best

When I first lay weary eyes upon yours
I noticed forever was in your glare
Many openings where once were closed doors
Myself in you, quietly standing there

In an instant my future all laid out
Your love replaced all my anger and hurt
No longer was my mind filled with doubt
For now I have someone to put me first

For never have I felt a love so sweet
For never has my life been so complete

Home again, home again with you
There are no more places to see
No one better to belong to
There is no better place for me

There are no more places to see
Nowhere on earth I have not been
There is no better place for me
This is the place of which I dream

Nowhere on earth I have not been
No one could take me from here
This is the place of which I dream
To leave would bring me to tears

No one could take me from here
Here I will forever stay
To leave would bring me to tears
I will never go come what may

Here I will forever stay
Been gone from this place for too long
I will never go come what may
To look on from afar was wrong

Been gone from this place for too long
To leave home and never come back
To look on from afar was wrong
I never thought I’d have done that

To leave home and never come back
To leave you alone, how could I?
I never thought I’d have done that
Here I am, give us one more try

No one better to belong to
Home again, home again with you

The way I held you
The way touch I you
The way I turned you
I put my cold soft hands on your rosy skin
My hands slowly infecting your body
With hate running through my veins and
Into your body you slowly
Die and are raised again filling the gap
That was in my black little heart

I lead my life with such contempt
I hate the body
Which I inhabit
It reminds of times gone by
You see me eating from empty plates
Drinking from empty cups
You know not what you see
You know not what I am
You know not what I do
I am no longer a man
I am no longer held to this mortal coil

Death has no morals about love or hate
So come for me my dark angel
Come for me and bleed
Slit your wrists for me
Allow me to taste your contempt for life
Allow me to see through your eyes
So come for me my dark angel on velvet wings
Come for me across midnight skies
Riding the winds of time

You came up to me that thick and foggy night
That night that I will not forget for centuries to come
The night you sired me
The night you made me what I am
My skin felt like it was melting off my bones
My blood felt like it was boiling

You sent me home to my family
To my children, my wife, to my old life
The voice in my head began to taunt me
Telling me things that I had to do
Ripping through the fabric of my soul
Tearing it apart piece by piece
Devouring my body whole

I sit in a corner reflecting on life
About my children, about my wife
About what I did to them that very night
Centuries have come and gone
Generations have come and gone
But my so-called life still goes on
Taunting me throughout time saying
Where is your wife, where is your life?

Darkness falls like satin sheets lying down softly
As if someone had thrown it up in the air
Slowly drifting down to earth
Covering everything like a blanket
Things awake, animals start to show
Things awake when the moon is full
Things that have no name
You hear them when you lie in bed ... crowing, creeping

Outside you look to see what it is
You can see it lurking in the shadows staring back at you
You think is this a dream or is it real?
Back fiend you demand, you shout out loud
Cold sweat runs down your spine

You stay up all night looking at the beast
The veil of darkness begins to lift
You dive under the covers
You don’t want to know what it is
You look out of the window ... the beast has gone
But you know it will be back tonight!

With the passing of a sunny spring day
We look to the sky for a meaning and reason
Heaven’s above, Heaven’s below
How can we actually know
The spider walks his careful path
For he not knows where destiny lies
He carries on, day by day, not complicated by design
He spins his silk and lies for hours to concentrate
He waits, he waits, oh boy does he wait ...
The trembling alarm calls!
He scurries from his lair, his bounty irate
The frustrated fly has flown his careless path
His fate decided
Sitting in the pale blue emptiness
The crescent moon floats
Another passing day of quiet contemplation.

Ant, ant you travel so far
With tireless ease, effortless endurance
You are selfless, conscious, driven to your destiny
No need for friends, companions or acquaintances
Your passion is your search, to seek, to find
The fuel your kin require
Three times, six times, ten times your weight
You carry with ease, without complaint
Returning those miles is not a chore
And with ease your food is at the door
A touch is all you require to connect
To give reason to exist.

Oh transient moon what do you see?
Your shadow bestows such curiosity
Give us a clue of what you know
For we are mere mortals, destined not to grow.

To witness, through the quarrel of the sun,
just one visit to prove
in respect to you how I've grown so fond
that for a moment may I dote upon,
and gaze with Eden's pond

in bloom as day is smitten with the eve.
Celestial petals hark
to the moon that soon a lit they'll be,
and kiss the spark that embarks reveries
of fantasy to be.

May when you harbor a wish and wonder
be obliged like a bride,
answered with seriphical, sonnet lore,
constellating just how stunning you are.
May this endeavor soar

upon the wings of a Phoenix and dance
as the stars from afar
sing like kindling, flickering for the chance;
each to serenade your dreams and romance
praise to parade in stance

in a summer's lilt afloat whispers of
complementary leaves,
painted by the vermilion wisps above;
each tree to be a courtship's call of love,
delicate like a dove.

May the breeze of a gust wander on by,
so softly offering
to please the space between each breath and sigh,
to cajole your lips as if on this night
was the first and last time

that such an embrace so pure would be felt,
passionate and granted
the subtle sway of your spiraling spell,
the fastest moment ever held so still
in motion and reveled,

and just like it greeted, the wind retreated
as the moon then did loom,
providing shine for me to believe in
of a swoon for the sky to compete with ...
perfect aesthetic proof

readdressing the bell that Marlowe toll,
the epochal model
whose face a thousand ships fought for like gold,
oh, infinitely many could not show
the devotion I hold,

linen how a proposition should sound,
imagined and fashioned
like a Camellia-inlaid velvet crown,
gently caressing sweet nothings abound,
and charm which to astound

with this bridge poured from Aurora's pallet
of torch-lit orchids,
blossoming a streaming borealis.
I present my hand, my heart, this palace;
just step from your lattice,

my lady, fly with me on this mead hour;
my Nightingale, let's sail
midway between Father Time's clock towers
where the dawning god bears loss of power
for tonight's reign showered

forth its eternal divinity
in style that of a smile,
unmatched by ages and Aphrodite,
passed mere attraction, such 'twas cast indeed
of eyes for ravishing,

and from the prurience
of that one glance
a second more beckoned,
"Just tell her, tell her; right here is the chance!"
But each lingering breath slowly entranced
my tongue, and oh how silent

patience in waiting is the hardest game,
wide-eyed, soon to arrive
the ticking of this twinkling flame.
May this passage be our first kiss to claim;
may each word swear the same

secret grip, like foreplay to persuasion,
the flutter that stutters
each beating syllable of the language.
For the heart is dormant 'til awakened
by Affection's ardent first gaze taken.

All I know of sunshine,
allusioned romance for a heart's decline,
is a memory of when the world was mine,
so now I spoonfeed sleep,
and wish to wake into dream,
volcanic rain of acid wine.
Mouth open-wide.
For at least then I'd be too drunk ... too disfigured
to agonize if whether or not,
sunrise will end what she left behind.