The picture in my head

its rosebud time
a brilliant red
on silent snow
fresh white bed

ice maiden mirrored
kay and gerda
ditsy dwarves

by the pricking of my thumbs...

fairy tales
every day of our lives
from that ruined castle
up on high
to that lost city
oceans deep
hiding wet wild treasure

caught out for a magic moment
by a lone sunray
that shot right through the waves

deep

into a world we never knew
was there for us

a slow bloom
apricot hues
turning to rich purple
time and tide
they say..

like the bruise on your knee
which is now
but a memory

like the princess
and her pop up book
every page
a new smile

the frog, the pea and the beanstalk
were all green
a nightingale
a scheming queen

the beast heads up the pack
the beast is finally back
the beast will find the crack

but the prince
the pretty prince
that precious petty prince

oh yes, the prince
the prince will paint it black

9 crimes

tasting what you can't smell

mincing coffee beans with coriander

drinking red colour blind

eating before the kill

beating bubbles that won't burst

dancing to a dead tune

making love to lettuce

lying in bed alone

writing crap
..................................................

elephant

this has got to die
i said this has got to stop
this has got to lie down
with someone else on top
you can keep me pinned
'cause it's easier to tease
but you can't paint
an elephant
quite as good as she ...

(Damien Rice- 9)

more babies

babies are made of thin air
babies are made to scare
babies are made of DNA
that will make you really pay

babies will tickle you
babies will pickle you
drain you of all
savage sanity

they'll eat your mind dry
and watch you fry
in a pool of squalid screams
saying 'try me'

give it a miss
do without the kiss
forget they exist
take it off the list

NOW

while you still can
resist

persist
and all you have
are rotten grits
in a bowl of sour milk
swimming like lost spirits
drained an aeon ago
in a glassfull of ice cubes
that cut your throat to pieces
and killed the eggs you
craved for breakfast

----------------------------
Hello from the gutters of N.Y.C. which are filled with dog manure, vomit, stale wine, urine and blood. Hello from the sewers of N.Y.C. which swallow up these delicacies when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks. Hello from the cracks in the sidewalks of N.Y.C. and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed in the dried blood of the dead that has settled into the cracks...May 30,1977 David Berkowitz ("Son of Sam")