Tuesday, 21 July 2009

Dear Satan

You’re my earthly lover, I want you in my craving little fingers,I want you to be the crystals in my tapes,I want you to be my dissolving organs,I want you to be my scandal of voices, I want you to be the witches of the god I believe in .I want you to be the whispering angles in my ear, I want you to be the shiny elephants that pass in my mind,I want you to be my vile secret, I want you to be my ice stranger and my supple frame, similar to the skeleton wizard. I want you to be my enchanter.I want you to keep me hostage,I want you to be my peasant spirit , I want you to be my dead queen, I want you to be my burning clover,I want you to be the glass blackberries soaking into my extremist tongue , I want you to untie your dirty vulture feet I want you to be the king of streams,I want you to be my ribbon riddles,I want you to be my tragic pearls and in my basket of clowns,I want you to be in the reflection of my petal eyes with oil running down my cheeks for tears ,I want you to be the charcoal vomit from my liver,I want you to sit with dancing owls and be my night time psycho,I want you to be my unfortunate queer and my tiny deer,I want you to be my several children.I want you to be my killing cloaks and my fortress,I want you to be my rubble and cackle ,I want you to time travel with me. I want you to have my treacle’s syndrome .


I could watch you flourish with thrills or shrink with disease . I could watch you colide with jesters and provide you with my atoms too. I could calm you down when you panic with paranoia. I could give you pumpkin seeds and watch you gleam. I could run you a cold bath and watch you freeze. I could pass you some red wine and watch the colouring of the wine run out through your ears and then we could turn red, like strawberries or cherries or whatever you want to be! I could buy you a chipmunk and we could play whispering games, whispering so loudly that were barely whispering at all but we haven’t quite reached talking level.

We….. Could….. Explore…… With……. Forbidden……. things.

I could hide your shoes I could hide your mind

We could superglue trench coats to our flesh and fill the pockets up with rocks and stones and bits and bobs and walk into rivers. We can mock the anti nature machines and we can discuss our fairy faith and rosy cheeks. Maybe I could show you a window to your fate and I would make sure that the rose on the window wouldn’t burst into flames. Or maybe we could get a bit uncertain and walk down a spiral path instead of a straight one.

Jester sitar

Dizzy secrecy pampered with kissing gates
And the floor blurs white, swaying like a pendulum
Tormenting experiment
Shame shame staff on duty
Gluing us back together in unity
Like a knife in the draw
Or a coat
Hanging hanging hanging
From a door

Dripping anti everything just mess with your nature
Vomiting violently and elsden talks to you
Magnets pull you away from spiritual corners
Craving for you to stay in the land of living
Lingering in-between
Mixing ambivalence and flowers and fires
Into little pots of hospital juice.

Jester sitar I have found you
Viciously whispering through six square windows.
Precious peacocks flew you too the next puzzle
When you sprinkle your pumpkin powder
My god I could scream as gently as
vines, white tablets and paper cutters

And I was itching with grace
And melting like chocolate and candle wax
levitating, levitating like a moth reaching for a source of light
why does your mouth always hang down?
I could strangle you when you get in my system

You can clutter like little Victorian tea sets around my flesh
Even the dainty leeches crawl timidly around you
buildings between us throw shapes through the wall
now you brush your prince like hair
You shall be the one

Melted baby hospital

Smudged candles
Waxy fingertips
Dragged from a window
Smeared faces
And toes
They died daddy they died
13 bedrooms
Of incapable functions
And leads of fuzz
You sleep surrounded by
Creepy vegetables
Discriminating noises
Humming like hummingbirds
Scratching into the dust
Minor major schizophrenia
And repeated paedophilia
Three and one
Burning babies
Tipping tummies inside out
Sickening spirits smother your skin
And adapt to your evolving grin