Where Beauty Resides

The bells of liberty

by your stockings rung

The deepest restraints

in my hands … undone

A ladder of splendour

slowly climbing

Your sacrament melting

upon my thirsting tongue

quenched in the ocean

of love’s perfection

Down on bended knees

lost in the tender squeeze

of your wholly communion

To ride the high tide

of hard won liberation

Yet … I’m a captive slave

to your will being done

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The Grand Artisan

God … the ultimate Artist
The supreme Scientist
The intimate presence within
and throughout this existence
Regenesis … poetry in motion
Is she masculine
or is he feminine?
Is the answer
beyond our understanding?
Are we just avatars
in a game of actual reality
Is this life
an artistic documentary
viewed through
all the agony
and the ecstasy
the triumph and the tragedy?
Have we truly
been given a free hand
by the Artisan Grand
upon the canvas of eternity?

Or are we just
rats in a laboratory?
A collection of quarks
traversing the dark?
Mere particles within
the part and parcel
of subatomic intricacy?
An infinitesimal spark
in a dimension mechanical?
Speaking of relativity
where is the power and the glory?
A perpetual quantum
crunching the numbers
in some mindless continuum
Is that the universal story?

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He Eat Dolce Vita ~ revisited

sealed with a kiss and a warrant

He fly da vulture

He stranger than danger

He swamp da monster

He got winner envy

He lose by plenty

He look orange monkey

He big sunshine faker

He red carpet bagger

He Passé da posse grabber (?)

He dat hound dog’s brother

He da Beastie’s bestie

He one mother trucker

He be Frankenstein’s baby

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The Placebo Diaries (5)

The Big Get Even

Perhaps it was too much
for the Sindicate to accept
such a substantial loss
Understandably upset
they put out
a 24 hour contract
on poor Leon
their number one suspect
Goons with prison haircuts
packing serious heat
under ponchos and anoraks
were scouring the streets

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