The most recent of poetry/lyrics.

Poorhouse

it turns my own eyes to thoughts of decrepitude and squallor
a child bathed in the darkened rubies of poverty
no sound exists here; only the steady thump and click
they work to live and crawl to death through the thorns of old age



Tea

they say a cup of tea solves everything
an interlude, a prelude, underlude...
tea creates breaks in reality where there should be none
wipes dust from blurry eyes and smoke from burning minds



Collar

a dog on a chain; timid wolverine
a gorilla though not quite so tame
mismatched and misguided
and slightly insane



Ocean

the flood; I am capsized and drowning
where is my God? where is my Death?
I find both in the sweet abyss of the ocean
beneath the waves amongst a coral graveyard

history lingers here and time stands perfectly still
beady eyes watch us all, mere pale corpses against the endless blue
I know now what lurks beneath the tides and the wind
I look Death in the eye and try to gouge him out

there is no mercy, at the bottom of the ocean
there is no sweet relief and returning love
there is only Death, at the bottom of the ocean
only Death, and no light above



Noise

the noise is neverending and the adults are pretending
they don't see the children crying in the night
a dreamer dreams of sleeping; mother nature, she is weeping
oh the human mess is such an awful sight



Jennifer

well, you got - satin shoes! you got - cocaine eyes
I see no deception and well well, I see no lies
you got, the finest bracelets that I ever did see
why not come on over, babe, lay your - love on me?

Jennifer my darling oh well, what I'd give!
I'd give you all my money just to see you live
and well I, took your finger and I, took your heart
it took a while to love you and well, that's a start!

Jennifer my baby why'd you, run away? I got
all the money that I'd need to make you stay, you don't
see me no more you just - see my money, honey
I'm gonna bring you back if it kills me, Jenny, oh!

who do you think you are?
I bought diamond rings!
straight from Africa - well
they need 'em more than you do!

who do you think you're dealin' with?
I'm no woman, darling
I got a gun in my pocket and I--
--ain't afraid to use it, well then

Jenny, my darling oh and, Jenny, my soul
You took my silver and well you, took my gold
I say 'well well' too much and you, you got old
and they believe your death is just the way I told.