posted on February 11, 2014 at 8:00 am
bad to the bone

bad to the bone


The ruins of cities lie in ashes or sunken in lakes

A glacial fault opens up the tundra and wonder…Byzantine judders!

A ship goes down on razor teeth reefs beyond belief

The staring crowd in white pancake quite the face ache

Theyre looking for someone to cut off their head it is said

The greedy villains and dogs of disdain again… oh the pain!

Cheering on the dumb hero who slays knights and days

War comes to Africa through Egypts back door

The vultures crooked cat and claw

Telambi was singing her million songs writing any wrongs

Jungle creeps around sleeping sickness the thickness of stone

Which doctor will it be … the hyaena man or silent tree?

And everything unravelling unseemingly

We just lay here in the subconscious realm no one at the helm

We falter senselessly

We sense falteringly

Something out there bearing down

Tearing down this pageant of tents

A defense of magic

We are born again and again and again

Moving upstream through a river of men


11 Responses to “the wicked spirit”

  1. avatar
    Kohl Ette | 11 February 2014 at 10:37 am #

    She thought of him parting
    and his look of joy
    (she was sure she actually felt it)
    intuition telling how lasting this is
    and mind saying how dangerous falling
    can be
    and she thought of it as she walked
    the markets dutifully
    and how the former cloud
    would surely deform
    well she wasn’t too afraid
    for she knew the cycle.
    In the interim she planned
    to immerse herself
    in soothing of churning
    scheduled to attend
    in peace of evening
    a class to reunite her with
    her better side
    she could only strive
    and recently he had written
    in cyclic structure
    giving a sense of security
    or ingenuity….
    she quietly confessed
    to a higher thing/person
    regarding all her dear treasures
    she cherished.
    Was it wrong?
    She knew their symbols
    if not physical projections
    even manifestations
    of others’ dear souls.
    Was it all she had?
    Had she taken from them
    without regard?
    she had not
    for she formed
    radical unspoken
    abstractions within
    wanting to rush
    but in some ways unable
    then waiting for faith in patience
    or critic, healer or hedonist would say
    practising savouring
    more thorough
    flavours of moments.

  2. avatar
    Galamor the Wizard | 11 February 2014 at 6:07 pm #

    Really liking the new Miscellanea collection – especially “Poison”. Really reminds me of “The Juliet Letters” by Elvis Costello. More please!
    A lot of the other stuff reminds me of the good stuff on Remindlessness. Are some pieces from this time or has that muse revisited you?
    Some of the stuff also reminds me of the treated piano pieces of Harold Budd and Brian Eno too. Great stuff!
    And here I was thinking that the new Neil Finn album, released 2 days later, would shit all over yours. It’s the other way around for sure and I’m a big Finn fan too.
    Finn has buried his songs whereas you have uncovered yours.
    Will there be part 2?
    Great stuff!!!!

  3. avatar
    Elvis | 11 February 2014 at 6:08 pm #

    Black Belt Poem Indeed! Bubba-hum…with a hip twist and kick of the leg, check-ha!

  4. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 February 2014 at 9:36 pm #

    And the eyes have it. Reminds me of the colour of mine when I’ve been in a spiritual battle. Took me a long time to understand this. I used to think it meant I was sick or coming down with something. Nearly asked you face to face about the varying colour leaves on your book cover. The leaves so reminded me of the eyes I have seen.

  5. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 February 2014 at 10:25 pm #

    ‘around sleeping sickness the thickness
    of stone’

    That’s a good line.

  6. avatar
    essss | 12 February 2014 at 9:11 pm #

    I like this and some other things you’ve written lately, since I’ve been reading a bit again
    Was just searching online for others who were born today (as I was)
    I stopped celebrating the day many years ago
    Not sure what it means…but it leaves me feeling unsettled (faltering senselessly) for some reason
    Others: past family, old lovers, always took the day for themselves
    Made it about their needs from me
    An excuse to enter my space
    a day when old boyfriends contact me, even when they know I don’t want them to…
    Anyway, just noticed that your friend Grant you have written about, was also born today
    So happy birthday to grant and to anyone who entered the world on this day
    Even if no longer here, a part of you remains, or is renewed
    And I hope your creativity keeps giving

  7. avatar
    redgrevillea | 18 April 2014 at 10:08 am #

    I often wonder ‘where’ we’re going to continue to be born again. It seems like we’re running out of habitable space on our beautiful planet, and having to breathe in competition with CO2 and methane isn’t going to be much fun…

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