and...

when the lights go out, I'll hear your voice,scream silently, "get out".

when the lights come on, you'll sing a song,and know that I was always wrong.

when the sun goes down, I'll shut my eyes and run to find another shore...

when the moon comes up, you'll smile and watch my shadow at your door.

so what can matter, matters not
idle chatter, passing thought

laughing morning, loathsome night
forget the peeping pale moonlight

just a movie, just a book
jaded story, faded look

for sleep is all you'll ever need
dipping dreams in stale seaweed

stars bursting
minds thirsting

and yet...

we're all still living in the same old goldfishbowl.

666

Haven't quite figured out this 'tag' thing but it seems to be some sort of infectious creepy crawly that provokes a lot of laughs and the occasional scowl (I'm not looking in the mirror, so don't ask)

Quick introduction:

You must post a blog with six weird facts or habits about yourself. These cannot be used against you later on :)
- At the bottom name the six people you will tag next.
- Leave them a comment to let them know they've been tagged and to read your blog
So thanks (and silent curses) to Sanity Starved here's my first tentative attempt.


I.......I live in a starship docked at Atlantis
II.....I paint deathmasks
III...I bathe in campari
IV....I talk to stones
V.....I drink witches brew
VI...I eat people

Cannot do this. too hard. you're all sniggering now. try again. true or false?

1. I read newspapers and magazines backwards

2. I have to crunch at least three green chillies whole with every meal.

3. I can light a cigarette in a typhoon on a beach, or pretty much anywhere

4. I can read shoulders (and toes etc)

5. I can eat anything (snake soup, deer's testicles, pigs heart, blood fry) except onions

6. I can see you and not see you at the same time

I'm really struggling now. Will give up before I bore you to tears!

and if that isn't enough, here's my friendly chinese whisper to 6 of you to perpetuate this for posterity!

Gypsynan grinning at the thought!

Aria for those wicked lines she slips in when you least expect it

Aradhita who I'm hoping will be smiling

VP who carefully camouflages his goofy grin (don't kill me)

Mermaid who may find it hard to make time for this

PB would be rather nice if you did

and I won't mind if some of you ignore this (note I didn't say ALL!)

True lies

Why laugh when we can cry?
Why hug when we can fight?
Why talk when we can hide?

Isn't it a far more potent state of being, to have your inchoate mind competing with a random heartbeat that threatens to get ahead of you as your fingertips burn in silence?
When the soles of your feet register each miniscule prick of dirt on the floor and your toes cramp in rebellion?
Can you feel your stomach churning deadly acids that lick its womb and worm its way up to your head through pale arteries choking back smoky tears?

Bloodrush is better than a rollercoaster high?
Frozen skin is better than a warm bath that will inevitably lose its ardour?
Flaming dreams are better than numb smiles?

Try and decode the bullets that shoot through your brain and explode in a kaleidoscope of images that make love to each nerve ending.
Fail, and the ghosts will kiss you.

Light obscures the nuances that darkness unfolds.
Joy kills the words that pain creates in effortless beauty.

Package an emotion in ribbons of fact and you have a gift no one will die for.
And the dead will never visit you again.

Who was it that said a pessimist is one who's scared of rain? Ah, Leonard Cohen.
And he claimed he's not one because he's soaked to the skin.

Make sense?

this one's not for you

Act I

my eyelids grow heavy as the wine settles in
gnaws at the insides and rests deep within

where can I find it, where should I look
after all that it did to me, all that it took

cry me a shotglass, cry me all blue
turn me to crystal, far away from you

burn me to cinders, find me a nook
bury me whole, with no second look.

shake me like jelly, shake me awake
yell at me loudly like all is at stake.

drown me in music, soak me in hope
don't let me flee, don't let me mope.

stuff me with foie gras, fill me with fruit
late for the farewells, time for the boot.

i'll lead you a merry dance
i'll woo you a trance
and let you dump me
and rue the missed chance


Act II

the snakes on the prowl
the tiger can growl
yet both watch and wait
elude that bait

till each lies exhausted
toasted and wasted
searching for something
they feared, yet tasted

sharp poisoned arrows
piercing the marrow
anger and darkness
obscuring the sadness

of knowing it wouldn't
fearing it couldn't

be what you wanted

see what you blunted
shackled and shunted

listen till you hear no more.

its another life, another trip
another distant shore
where strangers flit by
never touching the core

and still you would see her
reach gently for you
and still you would know
every touch was true

and yet you would shun it
and give it a shove
push it away
disdain for love.

yes love, like a beacon
like every cliche
you'd never ever utter
and keep well at bay.

crave it like cocaine
yearn all those years
hope for a whisper
to banish your fears.

laugh in your face
your kidding me now
you never knew love
you never knew how

so back to the game
writhing and sore
tear at your insides
and ask for more

yes, ask for more
punch at the door
clutch at the tendrils
you heartlessly tore

piece them together
tell me you will
tell me your craving
to hold me still

for I cannot hear you
I cannot see
I'm all too determined
to rescue me

Mine

It was born the day the door shut in his face.
It grew slowly a little pinkish brown thing. Clinging on for dear life. Feeding on him till it grew puffy and soft. He liked stroking it, feeling its fullness.
He knew though it wouldn't be long before it changed colour and left him. He squeezed it and felt the pain surging sweetly through his fingers and tingling down his spine.

It was starting to develop a mind of its own, a tougher skin, even as he tried nurturing it to stay. It was darker now, rejecting his every advance. He invented new means of preserving it -purely for himself; embedding it squarely in the mind, framing the memory in photographs - a souvenir of a day in his life when he had survived, like he never thought he could have.
It had kept him company, it had stung him into feeling when numb, it had enraged him with its purple ugliness sometimes.
How else would he have had the strength to stub out the flame with a raw thumb and throw his head back and laugh in triumph?
How else could he have dressed it lovingly and worked all those intricate patterns in miniature red, it now showed off proudly in the mirror?

He knew now it was a matter of days. It was all the time he had to hold his head up again and walk the tightrope without falling off. Practice hard. Learn not to miss it. Don't look at it. Don't wake up with its ache in your mind.
It's drying up - that precious little ball of fire that nourished you when you had nothing else. Spoke to you when nothing else could. Steel yourself and watch it go.

That beautiful blister you needed so much.

But hey, even if its fading, its going nowhere, only fading into you.

I didn't ask for the weatherman

Today its the rain. Predominating, presupposing tomorrow.

Nothing perceptibly new. Just the mist pulling closer.
Pretending it's that old greying lover who's nervous clammy hands move deliberately towards a futile destination.

Look back in anger? Sit back and smile?
Walk away wistfully, or crawl in slow motion till that white vapour fawns all over and fondly threatens to choke you?

How many molecules, how many permutations of minute matter that you can't see- and yet it plays havoc with your mind. Can we feel atoms?
Is it some physical reaction generating heat in an icy clime, electricity in static mode- oh, and thanks for correcting me, its a chemical reaction, (never fathomed the nuances of that difference)!

Dull declasse derelict daytime. Devoid of dodgy dreams.
Fraught with fractious frames of now fathomable futures.

(fancy me writing facetous lines - feverish frickin folly)

I see me there. Growing old, in the same rocking chair.
I see me here. Catching cobwebs, eating oats, drinking flat beer.
I see me soon, on a gleaming broom, grinning wildly as I fly to the moon.
I see me now, wondering how

it tastes like honey
feels like money
smells like mustard
on maverick mush.

I love the richness, brittle and brash
As the sun crashes through like a familiar rash..

on the tender skin of a pale mist,now pouting,erupting in helpless indignance as it shatters into little invisible particles of poof.

If only it could see me reaching quietly for my sunblock.

And yet, my fingers play with the edges of the jar.
I know, yours are too weak to knock

and you can't see them anymore
just like you can't me.

-----------

blunted

even as the eyes close and the knife grows sharper

Kitchen tales

I'm coming to get you
Make no mistake
I'm here to sweat you
Like a moist rummy cake

I'll tickle and toast you
I'll pickle and roast you
I'll carve and baste you
Brown

I'll twist and tease you
Pinch and please you
Suck you till you
Drown

Smell you, inhale you
Smoke you, choke you
Lick you softly clean

Taste you, waste you
Chew and cherish you
Take you
Where you've never been.

So pluck off those feathers
Peel off that skin
Drain all the blood
Let the games begin.

Juice up the flesh
Carve out the heart
Mince me your brains
Let me play my part.

The eyes delight
I'm waiting to bite
Shivering slow
Raring to go.

So offer it up
Pretty and pink
Rosy and raw
No scar no kink.

I smell your fear
I'm here to win
So crawl up near
Surrender to sin.

And make no mistake
My dear juicy steak
I'm the best chef ever
Your smiling saviour

and

It's you that I'll bake
It's you that I'll break
It's you I will make
It's you I will take.

And I'm no Shylock
So reminding you
That just a pound of flesh
Will never do.

So,
are you ready for the magic?

Umm

Swirls of thick rich cream, with a hint of chocolate now and then.
Scraping the bottom to savour the last vestiges of what could soon be a fond fading memory, even as greedy hunger gnaws for more.

Words form slow and tentative, strung together in serious quest of elusive thought.
Or clear deliberate, like the moon burning a torch for the late night runner on a mission.
Spoken in earnest, now in jest or even in soft childlike wonder as the gutteral wise man awakens the wide eyed questioning infant, purring in pleasure at a brand new touch.

Sounds of lava flowing - deep, quiet anger. The world turns cold with fear till suddenly, magic stirs. Hear the birds chirping on a thawing green as that precious laughter stumbles out in happy abandon from throaty recesses one yearns to fathom.

That wine drenched tone,
The whispered moan
Is it tender plum, cracked blueberry
Or a ripening radiant red red cherry?

Clinking gold coins, rustling leaves
Or cool waves raging on summer eves?

Bronze, bright, bathed in blue
So familiar, ringing true
And right now
as I think of you

Its orange.

Your voice.

Alive, always. I hear it.

Sandman

...
Till the sandman he comes
Sleep with one eye open
Gripping your pillow tight
Exit light
Enter night
Take my hand
Off to never never land

Enter sandman- Metallica
--------------------------------------

(composed jointly by Cocaine Jesus and myself)

Sepia colours washed the dun landscape with shades of tan and brown. The sun burnt down with fierce licks that sent dark shadows scurrying into the undergrowth.
Sometimes shadows move as if of their own accord. Little rodents with tendril fingers that snake and sneak as if searching for light and life to breathe into their utter dark souls. Leaches of light that foster dank designs.

He was lying there, almost motionless. Eyes too scorched to look up at the sun. Legs too weak to move, lips too parched to speak. Just one little finger twitched as he tried to write her name in the cruel sand of shifting time which now strangely refused to move. Dry sand oozed from his being, or so he thought. He thought it was him- the sand.
Or was it her?

He thought no more. His brain was drying up like a sirloin grilled too long and he felt like a stale onion on a bed of couscous. The visual metaphor pleased him, and for a second his lip almost curled in amusement and an ironic twinkle appeared behind those ravaged eyes. Only for a second though… as the horror of his predicament dawned slowly upon him.

He felt his body and mind drifting like the muted sounds of sand sliding over stones. A hiss of dried dust that flew outwards and onwards and away from him as though refugees escaping from a vile regime. Running and falling in a desperate flight to escape the evil thing that they are fleeing from. He could see the sand and dust moving from him and slipping out of his combat trousers and forming tiny mounds down by his feet.

Above him the sky grew dark as the ominous wing beat of gathering vultures became apparent. He thought he heard them but it almost seemed like a memory of them, accompanied by the heady stench of fresh blood.

He tried to comprehend how the wind was doing this?
How the sand was appearing to flow from him?

His mind whispered a silent ‘shit’ and he tried to rouse himself but realised with alarm that he was unable to move.

Then suddenly and with a grim, gallows humour he opened his mouth to laugh but no laughter poured out - just sand. Endless amounts of sand. Even the tears of despair from his dead eyes - were just sand.

The dunes lay calm and unflinching. Satiated.
He knew now it was no dream. The desert had reclaimed him.

-----------------

Ain't it foggy outside
All the planes have been grounded
Ain't the fire inside?
Let's all go stand around it
Funny, i've been there
And you've been here
And we ain't had no time to drink that beer

'cause i understand you've been running from the man
That goes by the name of the sandman
He flies the sky like an eagle in the eye
Of a hurricane that's abandoned

The Sandman lyrics- America

chardonnay, everyday

sparkling, tingling
like the sun in your eyes
rising, surprising
a million highs

breathe it in
watch it glow
shut your eyes
feel it flow

a perfect tulip
clean chilled skin
strong slim stem
designed to win

reflecting rainbows
fresh fruity smiles
smelling like thirst
succulent style

sipping a storm
crystal clear
toasting the world
look,
summer's here

WTF

when the world looks the other way as you hammer on its door
you sit up straight,take note and walk out of the door.

tell yourself its nothing, just some dirt on the floor
tell yourself you'll sweep it off and won't look out for more.

the hours won't keep up- oh darn, you sweat out in the park
they choose to crawl, remind you that its soon going to be dark.

and that is all your waiting for, its all you need to see
that what you've done must come undone, nothing comes for free.

and you can laugh and you can shrug and you can look to me
but you can't cry and you can't hide or go down on your knee.

so whats the good of playing this game if you can't let it be
whats the use of sharing pain if you won't come to me?

there never is another world where you would rather be
there never is a perfect she, no other quite like he.


Or is there?

Anger Management

The called you a loser.
They called you a schmuck
They scoffed at your mother
They screwed up your luck.

The laughed at your car
They smirked at your life
They ignored your children
And ran off with your wife.

So you broke down their windows
Smashed all their stuff
Burnt down their house
And punched them all rough.

You beat up their brother
You yelled yourself hoarse
You stole all their money
To settle old scores.

Then you clawed on your walls
And kicked down your door
Till you couldn't find a thing
You could break anymore.

And its time to be happy
And wholly content
To think of those lives
That you furiously bent.

Yet you still can't breathe
Your still feeling sore
There's no one to pummel
When you so want more.

So find you a drink
Find you a whore
Find you a fix
So it irks no more.

Now jump in the river
Sink in the sea
Choke on the past
That won't let you be.

I'll write you an epitaph
I'll sing you a song
And pray that your soul
Burns slow and long.


Just as you always wanted.

desert

Anywhere but home

thirsty

feisty

sensual


blue sky

bone dry

brittle



stone cold

old

burning


parched

scorched

pristine


gnarled

unfurled

tranquil

taut

trembling


desert queen


Come take me.

Blow me up

Nobody asked where she was going
Nobody asked her to stay
Nobody carried her suitcase
Nobody showed her the way.

She looked back just one time
She knew no one was there
She looked on straight ahead
She didn't need them to care.

-----
" Something inside of me
Has opened up its eyes
Why did you put it there?
Did you not realize
Something inside of me
It screams the loudest sound
Sometimes I think I could
I'm gonna burn this whole world down.."

Burn (from the soundtrack of Natural Born Killers)
-----

Loaded cylinders
Fragmentation jacket
Acetone peroxide
Red trigger in pocket.

A belt too heavy
For her fragile frame
Mind working calmly
On this deadly game.

She'd practised the part
With passionate joy
She was programmed to win
For a cause, not a ploy.

It mattered not who
Was going to die
Kids, friends ,neighbours
It only mattered why.

She brushed her long hair
For the very last time
She smelt the bacon
And the basil and thyme.

She touched the new leaves
She was walking on air
Triumph in her heart
Truth or dare?

It was time now though
The mission had begun
Her fingers hit base
The world slowly spun

Brighter than the sun
Louder than a gun
The deed was done.

Yes, her race was run...

and no one would know

how

for a second
just one second

She'd wished she was home.

Waiting

I've been sitting idle for hours. For hours!

Where are you? Downing a few beers with your best mates?
Or chatting up that doe eyed colleague
Whom you wouldn't let anywhere near me,
When she knocked on your door
tentatively the other day?

Here I am- slick new image, fitter, faster,
Brand new colours, every detail as you desired.

You even chose these devastatingly obscure blue shades,
Possessively, so that only you can look deep into my eyes.
So why the hide and seek now?

Last night was terrific. So involved.
Just when I thought you'd stop, you kept going
Till I lost myself in your labyrinthine manoeuvres.
Didn't let you down, now did I ?

To rise with you in the dawn,
Watch you sipping that strong bitter brew
You love so much,
Feel your fingers stroking me to rest.
Stop daydreaming!

Why on earth have you suddenly disappeared
When you've poured your heart out to me,
Told me stories as I curl up on your lap
and gaze straight back.

You wouldn't take your eyes off me for days on end!

Tap my secrets out of me delicately...
Plumb my depths for more surprises;
All the music and movies we shared,
and even those business secrets!

Who knows you better than I do?

Every password, every secret email,
How we laughed over every secret admirer
you got it so wrong with, and
the frenzied date juggling in your diary.

But then again,I was never family,was I?

Although in some way perhaps
I was a home for you.
Your retreat from the rest of the raving world.
And of course I'm still here. And so are you.

Wish I was a real woman. Not just a mute laptop.

And are you coming back for that candlelit dinner?

when?

Nothing new, nothing here
Nothing sparkles, nothing near.

The rain
It washes out the softness
Leaves me dry and flaky

The sun
It steals away the madness
Leaves me numb yet shaky.

The curling dawn shuts every door
the dusk will never open,
And the days have left me far behind
to fade out in this den.

And things could change
Yes, things may change

and things will change....but when?