As spirits bloom

As spirits bloom as will the doom you know

it is so hard to be yourself

As love may come and go to show you woes

I may discard who brings me health

 

As sun or rain or joy or pain will flow

the rivers soaked up by the clouds

and underneath the rain fall worms will grow

to bring the flowers fertile ground

 

The city where I stay she is my cage

she keeps me cosy from the dark

Although the stone and concrete pave the way

to sit and stay and make no mark

 

The hills afar where water scars the earth

is where I’d rather be sometimes

I lack the will to find the thrills to journey

past the urban ways of life

Rising of the Sun

I rise above the shitty streets

I find myself at ease

I’ve had enough of sheer disbelief

I’ve struggled hard to be

and now I see the rising sun

and less I see the moon

the lunatic I had become

unsettling and rude

and down on earth a grounded fool

is me and I may smile

I’ve found my worth and all is cool

and I may stay a while

in love and light and happiness

a life I can well bare

above the spite and bitterness

I’ve freedom of despair

 

The lies of love and hope… 

In my despair or disrepair

I trundle on this path
I never cared for sweeter air

I just cannot be arsed
I sit I wait I hesitate

And nothing happens still
The same old vibe I recreate

Until my mind is ill
A cigarette perhaps a book

I turn another page
I can’t forget I once mistook

It for a bright new age
Although I’ve tried and cried again

I still somehow will cope 
My mind all fried no compromise

The lies of love and hope

Good morning…

if all is to be love once more
as fools will seek the truth
my calling will be to adore

the core I lost in youth
always I want so much the whore

as she is floating passed
the haze I live in will deplore

my heart to her sweet ass
and she will never see me now

i do not have the cash
and I will be ok somehow

alone unknown to crash
in bed at night to early light

surpass my nights alone
my eyes so wide and so to spite 

the morning how I moan…

A corpse’s life 

the best laid plans all gone to waste my pace is resting still

of lifes demands my fate disgraced

of days so many ill
I should be glad I’ve had my fill

of food and love and play

although I’ll go another place

and never find the thrill
I’ve lost the cause I’ve honed my grave

with vice so nice to chill

but twice the rotton corpse charades 

as when the darkness killed
all of my love I was betrayed

by bohemian will

and status lost and at a cost

and you all pay the bill

Woman Stalker Ballard 

the consequence not heaven sent the phone it goes again

this wench is bent she cant forget

i wish it was pretend 
she calls and calls

sends numerous texts

which I ignore each time

I try to form

a strategy

there goes the doorbell chime
she posts a card

thats not filled in

a faded photograph

I tell my friends

of all these things

so we can have a laugh
although its sad

and makes me mad

she cant forget my smell
why cant she just

be fucking glad

and fuck off back to hell