Elections in general

It’s unnerving traveling through town
up-stairs on the bus getting eyeballed
by the righteous. Subsumed the sacred
heart they have knowing right they can
prick a conscience ruin a bus ride reach
the electorate. Newspapers magazines
radio television quick political broadcasts
before/during/after the Angelus then another
On after the news. At full capacity
and still the majority ignore these mediums
hence the placards them blaguards out to get us.
While the windows to our soul let in the thousand
words they make a shite of Bray with their plastic
stares hanging in the air even on the seafront
soiling the sunrise.

 

ubh Chásca

Were you there when they ganged

up in Gethsemane it was night 

all was dark so it seemed

to be a lark when they kissed

but they missed always

a fix

 

were you there

were you there that day God died

that  day the known world cried

 

is it true that this jesus

a Jew hung on a tree

for me for you we philistines

brought through says they

set free a chosen few

were you there

 

were you there when they pinned

his hands his feet broke his legs

pierced his side that day

he asphyxiated whilst crucified

were you there

 

were you there when they laid

him in the grave a living

tomb went missing whole

for three days were you there

 

were you there when every thing went Pop

 as mother earth  her Brest leaped

and nothing stopped you see

they had no ticking clock

were you there

 

were you there when he rose

up from the ground unrecognizable

having trimmed the beard  shaved

his head as if never dead

 

were you there

were you there that day God died

that  day the known world cried

 

la mariquita

Had to wash, eventually, reluctantly
in the shower, quietly rinsing her smell
from my beard. Her taste from my ‘tash
gargled at the back of my throat, swallowing
so as to return the compliment, incompetent
now, a mute bard, with a hint of a hard-on
gently squeezing his balls, vainly replicating
her strokes, imagining her lips, her teeth
her tongue raising me up to be a man.

Dry myself, mourning her departure
eying the islands we mapped on the bed
sheets. One more night lying in a state
of grace on these stale contours: our relief
then, to be fucked into the machine. Set
to three on the dial. Temp. 90 Celsius
1200 rpm for the spin. spin spin
spin spin spin spin.

 

 

 

 

 

01/04/14

Been a fool for love
Been a fool for Christ
Been a fool for poetry
Been a fool for money
Been a fool for blow
-Yeah, some little inner
City prick sold me a bit
Of briquette- been a
Fool for ever and a day

Been a fool every which way
Been a fool for the juice
Been a fool in the dark
Been garrotted on a promise
That’s a polite way of saying
Been made a fucking fool of

Been a fool for not asking her out
Been a fool for asking her to stay
Been a fool for telling the truth
Been a fool for taking the punch
Been a fool for not looking before
Having a piss

Been a fool in primary school
But that is allowed. To be
A fool again, and be asked
Riddle me this, or supposing
Supposing three men were frozen.
What about thirty sick sheep
Going out a gap. Such fun
Been a fool

To be a fool fit for a King
Been a fool sometimes
Gets you through it
Other times not at all
And if Ignorance is bliss
I’m breaking even: such thinking
Is a fool’s salve

Been a fool 24/7/365
Ah, ha, ha, ha,
Stayin’ alive. Stayin’ alive.
Ah, ha, ha, ha,
Stayin’ alive.
The fool knows how to jive
Blessed is the fool
He shall not err in the fashion
With any luck the fool will say
Fooled Ya something smashing.

 

sick

sick. sick of lemons. sick of oranges. sick of blackcurrant juice.

sick of peppermint and oregano. sick of cloves. sick of ginger.

sick of honey.

 

sick of the money to be spent on honey. have you seen how

much Manuka Honey© costs. at that price i’d be looking to eat

the fucking bees. in fact, it’s cost effective to shoplift that stuff.

 

instead, got me mits on a bottel of glyceryl guaiacolate/Ibuprofen/

Levomenthol. enough ground coffee for an Italian village, paracetamol

and Solpadeine (yesssss). haven’t washed for a week.

sweating like a heavyweight.

sick.

I WANT (MORE cut ‘n paste poetry)

 

I want

I want

I want

I want the rain to stop

I want to constantly shop

I want a want that consumes and focuses

I want my mind to mind to care so as to build

I want to share

I want a massive cock

I want the government to S T O P

I want them accounted for in ledgers

I want to piss on ’em at their wakes

I want to burn them at the stake

I want to end austerity

I want what went before

I want a new prosperity

I want something more

I want better for sure

I want to sing ship to shore

I want it all replaced

I want to get made out of my face

I want Drum ‘N Bass

I want to run that race

I want it as our saving grace

I want to live in a land of calm

I want salve and balm

I want to put my feet up

I want to burl in the sea during a dark purple storm

I want to break free

I want no slavery

I want no drudgery

I want a pet budgie

I want to visit Bart’s pet shop

I want whats going cheap

I want to ignore bleating sheep

I want to count them in my sleep

I want all taken down from their perches

I want a brand new pair of breeches

I want to hide my mistakes

I want to do what it takes

I want to up the stakes

I want to take it in my stride

I want to say for fuck snakes

I want some Magic Cake

I want to take it to the streets

I want it in the broad sheets

I want big fat beats

I want to dance where music and electricity meets

I want

I want

I want

 

sound wrote down