From the archive: Well that’s it really

The more you change the more you stay the same
the song goes on and but the track changes
what is the story in your head
was it so wrong to be unfed?
I cannot see into the future anymore
its all just a blurr
I want to know did you lie or did you die or did you sigh?
at the sound of the gun
did we have fun
well thats it really
I want to know these things because I want to know its right
to have feelings like this, feelings like fright
why am I so scared
To say what I believe
To say my parers
To the lack of self confidence that I have held so long and deer
but it seems that tomorrow it will all be better again
at the going down of the sun
and then in the morning
I will remember what it was
to be who I am
to say what is right
in the morning I will fight
I will have the strength and courage to go on
Will the hart of sunrise bring me strength?
If It does not, I don’t care
I don’t give a flying spare
Its all raw
its all the last straw
and well thats it really
I can’t go on like this anymore…
like a song thats gorn old
like a wrong thats been done
three fold and three fold again taking back what was said cannot be done
its all in the past
its all why i break my fast
take it in your arms
cradle it well
let it grow and destroy you
or let it show and annoy you
take a step in the shoes of a poor man
the former self reborn, you find yourself starting back…

Road number 2 1/2

Flossing the neck lamps.

Tramp built guillotine sat.

Glamour daemons anguished upon their fishing from the lists of dark moon rituals.

Calculator buns, fresh from the oven, ready to eat upon their half of the second street, horns and a coven whom hath been gathered.

Onion, Top Hats, Potato, Coal and Hatred used to summon the Captain of the great flush

He’s a tough nut to crack, even standing overdrawn by the rain next to a tobacconist. Muttering sweet hatred into the street corner, hoping your pity is worth another box of dime store magic.

Ever the half-life, shirt stained by ignoble truth he watched them, and all who come to pass. Daemons pay him little if any attention. Go about their endless quest to hear the fires of hell just a bit longer.

Shagging off the last of the most important smoke of the day, sagging and calving edgy cardboard boxes covered in blankets that keeps just enough of the downpour out. Aqualung is muttered, as he slenderly steps into the Dreamlands.

Two triangles crossed

Sleekly was the blue eyed beast that crept in jungles deeply

Waxy leaves parting gently on its feathered body. I’m hiding, hoping my smell is but a facsimile of it former stench

Beyond my magic, I cannot fight well and I have not had a crystal for a single spell for days

Rays have come through the trees and I hear the beasts clicking maw

Again I find myself feeling the need to thaw myself

Gentle rain falls and it’s very hard not to feel cleaner

The beast is still their blue eyes staring into my hiding spot





I spot a tiny stone

A quartz but it will do

Magical light fills the spot I’m in, just enough to conceal me, from big greedy eyes

I see on the ground where the the stone was, and their are two triangles crossed

Sleep is forbidden

Engulf our twilight, supersonic blood fights
Into darker green stars we stare
Despair dissipating single thoughts of care
Samurai floodlights, bitter pill is bitten twice
Grit on snow, as my blood simply flows
Wolves surround me, arm is taken freely
Picture all ours, on mountain rocky
Sleep is forbidden here, poisons twice as good for me.

Blue Fairy Wren

The rush, the push and fuss

Brindabellas ancient and old

Long stories they tell and have told

Crush, crush the leaves of late summer fuss

Dry mould, blue fairy Wren, oh gush!

Comfort speaks of me and my red cloak

Under those hills she sometimes yerns

When she’s angry, they burn

I can find her then, just like the Wren.

Will she be ready to join me? Travelling this mortal place?

Not till the oceans boil, and the dark wolf throws his muzzle and gapes

It’s taken all I’ve lost and all I’ve earned to find peace in those words

In the meantime, perhaps I will spend some time

As a blue fairy wren

Orange thunderhead 

dangerous thunderheads brought on by political blunder headsshreds of all the buildings, stings from hail and crops that failed 

will we be able to sail away from this place?

or rebuild to the wee hours? 

shelter is in the church tower 

doesn’t matter if you are so endowed

cower, from these storms and the winds power

irony of the day that it was some of these believers 

 procedures that made such a mess of this

climate depression, and the cowering congregation 

if it seems that Gaia is angry, perhaps that’s just debris in your supree
this angry orange man

does whatever he can

to take all you care about

twist into a doubt mouth 

he’s going to get worse

soon all of us will be in a hurse
dangerous blunder heads brought on by political thunderheads 

shreds of men, stings from baileys mail and promises that failed 

will we be able to save us?

Endless fog to hide in, endless fog to hide from

Just as confused 

Flowing through my mind

Hiding behind a tree or a bush

My brain drying out like this biting morning 

Peaceful trees to sit on away from home 

Sun and leaves come and go

Hide from myself and everything 

As they all hurt me

Everyone, everything, it all hurts 

Domestic chords and monestic cores

Sometimes I wanted 

Dark, again already 

The bell rings 

Penitent lighthouse 

On the coast

I don’t like to boast

Is the most 

Penitent lighthouse to ever fog horned 
I’ve got to tell you

I’m not trying to sell you

I can ring a bell for you

About this lighthouse so adorned 
I’ve crossed many seas

I’ve broken to many a ocean breeze 

I beg you on my knees 

The lighthouse is the sight for captains forlorn 
I’m eating the last

Of the salty crusted bass

And at the tip of the mast 

My lookout shouts for spotting the glalore’n 

Also warmed porridge 

Yorkshire jokers blue flamed jugglers

I’m sorry about this message 

Getting her back 

Lost like my friends 

But her especially 

I’m eating warmed porridge out of Earthly bowls

Rubbish fills the seats of the theater 

I only watch, eating and seeing

Juggling in the past

What a strange thing fire sends me

Each of the months and days I have spent


Airs dragons and clouds 

Waters floods and hidden self hate

Earths desire and enormous distance 

Fires jugglers and death 

I know this puzzle so well

But then

Hello father 

Flames are my favorite part of my death

Remember that day

We all fought 

Hard and long

Leave me to play with fire

A while longer

Pop up monkey vs Phoenix 

A pop up monkey with brass knuckles She lulled the Phoenix that was armed with a metal bar

It made a ping as the warrior Monkey hit it 

Phoenix knew their was no use crying and turned to their martial art known as the Sketch Method

Monkey tussled up her Navy training to support her revolutionary ways 

Phenonix was raised by wolves and Amanda Palmer and knew how to reef the knots of hits that came its way

Monkey ripped her dirty rotten imbeciles shirt and lit it with Phenoxis own flames she transit with a pong and muttered the magic words “West Pac”

The spell made the flame burst green bricks and brass rubber bands that flew into the air with speed 

They hit Phoenix with a mighty cockbeltch leasing it to swear on mighty Astro zombies and re supply its presentables 

Monkey made a mental note to mention this battle to her friend the Elk next time she visited the factory and prepared for the Phenoxis retailing blow

The Phenoxi knew it was beaten and flew up into a mighty flame that spelled the letters N S and K

Monkey was pleased at its victory and looked to see what prize she would be able to put into her locker 

It was just a Kingswood kid? 

“Oh Super Ralen? I’m going to have to get the cash for this one. I was hoping for a Lyre of Byrdland. Such is life.”

She picked it up, and took off to find a good burns ward. 

Limit of a string (a spell)

Every string is concerned

Don’t believe me?

I’m not surprised my love

This is why I tie you up 

In these binds

Listen to my voice

As you know how to trust me

Learn how to trust this truth
Feel this loop it is the roots they are strings 

Tighten blood bonds on your feet 

You walk on these 

Reach into the trees leaves, 

More strings 

Careful caressing will reveal 

Touch as swoon you will, to you hair the 

Phantom of my life, atoms are all

Strings tied into little balls

Tie into strings connect

A little lonely

Fishermen in a lake, and yours is great

Little liquid form

A thick string to plumb the depths 

Rope that’s now 

Dismal bloods, beads out like water

Watch and see it thicken

It is sap from the tree

Thickens scabs that the strings can be seen 

You see the boots walk on the roots 

Winds blow you stringy hair

Tied by the fletch 

Wetter by the lake

Ties again with the blood
Strings are connected together my love

Just as you are to them 


My feet are worn and my hart is heavy
Look upon me make me wary
is it a look of love or a look of hate
a single most distance stare that meet my chest
a jumbled mind that wishes for the wet
her look upon me is medusas gaze
a star so frightening it paralyzes me beyond all care
I cannot concentrate
I cannot think
I cannot speck
walk forward does my bravery but he is no use
against the star of the medusas gaze he is no match
for again I sit there paralyzed beyond all care

On the bus
In the classroom
In the office tower that touches stars that loom
beyond infinity of all that gaze
its concentrated on me on that day
I see the view that we all perceive in the gaze of light and there is not escape
they say the eyes are the window to the soul
I am trapped in yours and beyond all call
try and speak to me and you will see
that beyond you there is me

I have to fight
I know thats right
to win your love on this night
the window in the door and the gaze that meets the flour
let us dance to the shower of the morn
let us drink to the heavens above
but baby don’t look at me in that way
don’t use that gaze
cause I will be lost forever
within your soul

Blue flame back

“Thunk on the drums

Flap of wings to my friends 

Justice for my blood kin”
“Your skins are those of men

Gulls as agile as a eagle

Son is not the same as father”
“Cowards drum as loud as heroes 

Wind changes for all birds

Blood thinking in the mountains”
“Drumming ticks the idol hours

Changed winds colder than before 

Mountains crumble at my feet”
“Clocks are still made by those who keep time

Chilled airs are fathers breath

Rocks can still be used again”
“Thyme is growing like a weed

Breathe in the seas airs

Roll my pebbles on the grave”
“Foreword forests all dried up

Air strikes against them too

Dust is all that is left”
“Sun dries all

Winds are universal

Until gathered again and reborn”

Exposed particulars

They come at the call of the cold winds from southern ancheint spirits

They flow air and mist and rains, the path I remember and it’s just the same 

I can’t believe I remember the lyrics 

My coat is soaked through, almost lame and blind from stormy hailing rains

I wimper, I sing here, I bring her here

I give what I can, it is my decay 

Please light the dark, then dark the light

Angry dark, I have talked to it. Like in the old days. Where their any old days? It’s hard to tell if you travel.

Anger out of light, I have mortified on them. Like the crew stepped out to the craywolf lair. Their claws, teeth and tails.

My crew, my friends. I’m shaking at the thought. The darkest moments of my life, flights of arrows. The fighter planting the  shadows. The girl I love, turning her body into the shape of a dire wolf. My oldest friend casting a lightning bolt into the fray.

Their dead, all the same. Clacking in the court. The light of the room of people in suits, standing me over a barrel. The prosecutor gaining the jury’s bellows. The man I hate, turning my words into the shape of a demon in the sky.

Craywolf, skitter out of their nest. Hard shelled clawed beasts ten foot tall, six foot wide. Come at us in numbers higher than the sky. Overrun the shadow fighter, their claws blight him until he dies.

Dire, dire, wolf, the girl I love takes bites of Craywolf flesh, her teeth munching through their carapace like soft tissues, manacles too many though, and blood and fur run. I watch helplessly as my spells have bare minimum effect.

My old friend and I try to reach her before the end, he’s throwing lighting like the Tempest of Ger’tend. I try my different spells, the ones from my oldest toam. The first I cast turns their flesh into mush and tears most limb and bone. 

I grab. I twist, I have her in my hands. I turn to the friend, and say that it’s time to light the dark. He say, no but it’s time to dark the light. 

I gasp, I weep at such a hateful betrayer. In a single step, the girl no more than dust. His spells are just as powerful as mine and I have only my speed of thought. To quicken, I cast the one spell I have that will ace him in his step.

Darkness? No, a purpose for this spell is needed more than most. Given all my power it will surely have to work. I speak the words, the little things that are so powerful and with a little quirk. He can cannot assertain what I’m about to say. 

Quod est cogitare et terribilis apon anima tua!

Suddenly the lighting, the flesh, the wind, every spell he has ever cast upon another being is cast upon him. The effect upon him is gruesome, and quick. He is dead long before the spell finishes. I am hopeful that such a thing never happens to me. 

I weep. Their dead all the same. I’m going to be in that room. The room of judgement. Having been such a failure. But I take what I can from this. The dust. 

I forge it, with the little magic I have left and the bold of the craywolf. In one little ring. I hold the remains of my daughter.


infinity blade 

Thin sharply finished thing

I’m so enveloped by the feelings of azure hatred

The free afterglow of hazy pure powers that flow through me

She had a quick hand, a fast mind, almost took me to that old dark place in which she will now reside

Excavation of my minds memories 

Bottle and a stick, fat hated tower 

I’m darker than I thought 

Red, red, while the ground darkens with the red I have but thoughts of myself 

Black letter day

In my infamy 

I neglected my corespondence

I’m not sure if that makes me a bad person 

I’m replying to you, oh black one, for your letter doth take a certain amount of vile. 

I’m not sure, of the trials you have been through. Know that as a wizard I do now only see things as I can get to them. 

Though your quest, and questions are likely to be arduous. I’m sure if you, Vincent, are clear of your intentions. The best may come. Hear are the answers I found. I hope if you find them in good stead:

Fine comes arfter a whole 

White rocks on the seaside

Every unicorn is a blue whale

Chicken feet hurt, as much the Hawks 

Foxes dig, hide their tresures

A smile is worth only your hope

Justice eats her own heart

A katabisis does not need to go downwards

Hate is my favorite song 

Warm bodies were recovered in the fourth forest

Letters sent by air, are not going anywhere 

Coolabah seranade 

Changed and charged to the chanting of the hazy summers

Rising steamy visions of the mirage 

Eagle flying and searching 

Barely a cloud above the scorched red earth 

A creekbed just below his ancheint sandles

Waiting in this sunlit virtually brings you to feel hell

Then suddenly a whisper from the tree

The dance of the new rains will begin 


I, Mage. (1)

Limited absolutely. If I had a great dream, it wasn’t this.

The first symbol of Art, the hue that sits of the runes.

Ha, runes. They are ruining my concentration of late. Bundled in binds. 

I wild the power of the ancient worlds, every decision I make, a spokesman of the currently aggrieved. The faint of heart. The scared of mosters.

Limited, though. Each decision a tree in a branch of the year. The future and the past mushed like a madness. 

I don’t know what, I imagined life as a wizard would be like. Oceans seek me, mountains speak to me, trees ruffle the way the koi tickle their roots. I’m watching these clouds and am beginning to think they want to talk to me too. 


Vintage Halo Clamp

A dog barking from the smell of the luxurious vomit

Wind blowing southerly, its the cool change you have waited all summer for

Clamping your feelings in your mind to keep the monsters within from eating your hopes and dreams

A red model plane sits waiting to find people to play with it

Buzzards flying in circles like patient monks

Gravel on the ground wishing on the boulders they came from

Twitching the smells and sights of a hopeful maze

The brave fear the grave, they fight all the day to keep away from it

Vintage buggy code, sleeps in your browser

Spotty fish, plummeting from the storm clouds above

Laughing at the infamy of rounded streets

I’ll just tend to this way

Another day away

Into, into the handsome maze

speak to call it a labrynth 

Mountains walking above the lakes

The valleys of the voted men

Seeking words of pages tuned

The mothers messages cross as moths

They bring notes of changes to come

No motel for them to stay

During his concerto, he was interrupted

Wizard standing their, and finds the best is just to spread out the and tuck them 

His pokers face shows no sign

We stand surrounded by million years

Then in laughter of the chaos

Then will the melted anger become stone