Sunday, April 16, 2017

29 skulls

Its finally done.
It was long overdue
To the dream retreat, 
A rainy day
A cottage by the lake
And a comfortable chair, on the deck.
Everything’s there.
Everything’s there; nothing’s amiss. 
Nothing to miss. 
Alone at last!
Now what?
Let’s see,
A cozy bed,
A writing desk,
The closet in the corner.
Let’s see…
I can probably use these
But what are these?
29 severed heads in the closet.
All wrapped up, nice and clean.
Faces unrecognizable; brutally bashed in.
But wait, I hear somethin…
Whispers in the dark. 
the heads, 
they talk!
what could they be talking about?
They ramble on and on about nothing
Repeating every worthless detail 
Making no sense whatsoever
Still eager to tell the tale.
As if any of it matter
As if any of it any of it ever mattered.
Dumb cut up head
Don’t know that its dead!
So 29 severed heads, in a closet,
Dreaming up 29 boring lives
One’s a plumber,
One a teacher,
An actress, an accountant, a preacher,
Even a shrink, that considers the rest
delusional head cases (pun intended).
None of them has a clue,
none of them seems to care,
That they are absolutely,
Most definitely,
Its ridiculous! Its uncanny! 
Its so ridiculous its beyond funny.
So I try
I try to talk some sense 
into their heads (pun intended)
But they won’t listen; they can’t.
(Turns out all of ‘em got
their ears ripped off)
And I still try to tell ‘em off!
Kickin ‘n screaming I tell ‘im off –
“You are dead!”
“You are all dead!”
“You’re dumb 
and ugly 
and rotting”
“You don’t mean a thing”
“So just shut the fuck up and accept it”
“Just suck it all up and accept it!”
And then suddenly in the midst of it all
It dawns on me
The one dreaming up the 29th skull
Is the deadest of them all.

16 January 2017

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
So true! Not many get it. Not many care. Still, good thing it is out there though. That way people can stumble upon it, and then think about it, and then...start getting it? Is that the way it works? Perhaps not. Perhaps it would only be meaningful to people who already get it, hear the music, so to speak, and people who don’t get it, well, they just won’t see it. Is that it?
That’s the thing, how does it actually work with “those who could not hear the music”? Why can they not hear the music? Is it that they can’t hear it because there’s a glass wall in between? One that can actually be broken? Then once someone breaks that glass everyone would be able to hear the music?
Or are they permanently deaf and no matter how loudly the music is played, for however long, they would never be able to hear it?
And then among those who get it, or think they get it, would be those who’d consider themselves way too special for getting it and start an exclusive club with other ‘special’ people in it and they would congratulate each other and dance to their special music within sound proof walls so that the riff-raffs don’t spoil it, and then after some time has gone by, it would be very hard to tell what music, if any at all, is actually being played. May be years later, someone with perfect hearing would walk into the club and hear no music at all; just noise or dumb silence in its stead. Perhaps there never was any music; or perhaps it has died long ago.

Monday, February 27, 2017


In the end it gets down to
Just the two
Not four, not six
just the two
stuck in a disfunctional relationship

one to unite
the other to repel
neither exists without the other

'exists' a helpful word here
can anything 'exist'
if there is no state of 'non-existance'?

think about it
I mean really think about it

does a 'yes' mean anything
without there being a 'no'?

and that's pretty much it
just the two
mirror images
looking so much alike
you'd think they are but one
and that only one is true
and you'd be right too...sort of

if you say
that one
is but
the absense of the other
you'd be right, but...

here's the thing
and computer people would get this
is the 1
any more real
than the '0'ther?

Think about it
I mean really think about it

for the 1 to be
it has to not be
for the 1 to not be
it has two be.

It really is that simple
And that's what its all about.

Wednesday, February 01, 2017


Keep on thinking how good it’d feel
To shed this skin
To peel it off, nice and clean.
Then look in the mirror and see
If the face in there looks like me.

Time runs past,
Leaving dust
Dust on my skin
How long it’s been?
Since you’ve known what I mean?

Flesh on flesh, too much too soon
Look at the time - its half past noon!
Use your hands now, dig in deep,
So much there you cannot keep
Rotting meat ‘n a sack of shit.

Keep on thinking how good it’d feel
To be rid of the smell…of yesterday’s kill
To walk down naked, without a skin
And not care how long it’s been
Since the sun has warmed your guts.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

String theory

I think I’m losing interest in ‘current affairs’. After a while, it all starts to feel like a crappy reality show that you just can’t seem to switch off, even though it’s just making you want to throw up all over. Besides, what’s the point of it all anyway? That all of it is messy? Or is it that the mess is too close to home these days?

You can’t really say things were never this fucked up before. Fact is, they always were. Can’t find a time when some people, somewhere, wasn’t doing fucked up shit to some other people. People suck.
Keep a few pieces of strings in a corner and let ‘em stay there for a while. Don’t do a thing, just keep ‘em there and see what happens. They got all tangled. Haven’t they? Nobody made them do it. They certainly didn’t mean to themselves, but here they are, giving you a something to sort out. People are the same way. You throw a bunch of them together, let ‘em interact and pretty soon they manage to get all tangled up, in good ways and bad. The more people you throw in the mix, the more complex patterns you see. Before you know it, a few wise folks decide that for things to work, you need to figure out a few rules to keep things sorted out, you know, so that the system is not too tangled to function. Every now and then the wise guys would disagree on the best way to keep order and start pulling things every which way. Tensions rise, strings tear, and patterns change. Nothing new here, just the magnitudes vary.

Be as it may, perhaps these days with satellite TV, cheap flights, internet and whatnot, there are more people in the mix than ever before. Smaller patterns from every which corner, coming in contact with other patterns, forming a larger pattern,…perhaps the largest the world has ever seen. Wise guys from all around, tugging and pulling frantically, so that their order prevails, all the while ignoring the fact that this is different from what they know, nobody ever been through this and that they don’t really know how to deal with it. Meanwhile tensions rise, strings snap, and whole patterns disappear, forever.  Chaos will rule supreme before a more enduring pattern can emerge. (That is of course if enough strings survive after the madness has passed.)

Now that its summed up, somewhat,…perhaps I can switch off the damned TV for good to invest in something a little more productive. Something that doesn’t go around in the same vicious circles all the time. 

Saturday, March 02, 2013


Anyone has anything against penguins? They are cute. Right? Going about their business, doing the goofy walk, sliding about on snow, all the while in black and white…nothing wrong with that picture.

Much as I like the picture I wouldn’t want to live in a world infested with penguins…with only penguins, looking all cute and mucking about in the snow…snow in all seasons, snow everywhere. I’d hate it, just as much as I’d hate living in a world without penguins.

PS: Loved the new Anna Karenina.  

Thursday, February 28, 2013

when noone’s looking

They aren’t all gone
They cant be all gone..
You, know..they still come..hear ‘em in my head
Over the rainbow and under the bed..
Bits and pieces…crumbs and bread
and they seem to fit… fall in place
till I sit up and take notice
go after ‘em with a pen
Like bed bugs they flee…at the sight of me..
Its not me I tell ya!
The pen is to blame!

That’s it! My God, I’ve got it!
If I had a typewriter…you know..
like the one Bukowsky’s got
I bet that’d do it! I’d have a shot.
Its all about the right tool you know.

(Well, may be not a typewriter.
Way to heavy to carry around
And they tie you to a spot – a table, a chair.
Nay! Tablets are better...get me one here!)

Heck, you think I’m full of it?
That a smirk on your face?
Good for you, you figured it out!
Sadly though, that without a doubt
that aint gonna do either of us any good. Would it?

No sir! This aint no excuse,
Nor another expedition for self pity
Or a testament of self loathing
Au contraire – this is a poet’s last stand
One last squish the mites dead…on this page…
in black and red.
A spring cleaning of the head,…if you will.

Cause like I said,
They cant be all gone
They aren’t all gone
They come…tip toeing at night
And gather in numbers..when noone’s looking

Thursday, December 27, 2012

black its been and black it stays.

One day it’ll all make sense, if not today
And I’ll look back and say
Fuck’n ay…at least I had a day

Took me while but now I’m done.
Done lookin when there’s none
Thank you very much; its been fun

Not enough but that’s all I had
Cant help if they were good or bad
true lies that drove me mad

keep you whites and keep your grays
don’t look down; say it to my face
black its been and black it stays.
black its been and black it stays!

I aint complaining