ACT XXV

DEATH
The blinded child before me!
He sees all HE needs to SEE!
The truth face of mother earth
Burnt out and fucked.

Enough is enough!
The tongue captures before the mouth fades
Fades memories wanted before those early graves
We’re all soldiers and we’re all stars
Awaiting someone to align with ours.

Myself, A home, A tomb –
Controlled by no-one, 
except by that beautiful brunette,
staring from across the room.

Trapped with the fake, needless –
aberrations, of my mind,
I am a loser shines a little bit but 
at least it doesn’t seem to rhyme.

The reflections from the industrial sink –
The catch of materials, gripped by the tongues.
The less you know the better –
How can one ideology be so wrong.

III
The repeating streets.
Strained cigar humidity.
Bad attitudes.
An excuse for new lingo.
Natural selection.
The only selection we can’t control.
The only selection which has no hatred – 
toward sex, race and religion is the new rock’n’roll
Yeah, I don’t really believe in God.
One could say I don’t believe in being reborn.
I believe you can, and you will.

©HT

ACT XXIV

Deaths Phone-call

Call me if you die.

The revved up memories of wars –
between the simplified eyes.

My telephone rings hello.
But, its clutching at meaningly rusty shadows.

Those revved up memories of wars –
compared to being between your thighs

– were nothing.

©HT

ACT XXII

Up North
Them closed doors might keep him out
But they won’t keep out your thoughts.

You watch the wild horses run
Past your windows and past your porch.

You can’t wait for the sun to come down
And, show the world what you once taught.

To the masses and, to the few
There is much more to life than war.

I’ve read it in the papers and I’ve seen the news
They get shy at just the thought.

Well if only you told me what you knew
We’d be long gone outta here, I’m pretty sure.

But as time bleeds away into one
Fortress of lost and pure.

I spend my remains nights
Following broken tracks up north.

©HT

ACT XV

I
Waiting for the alarm clock,
To wake me from a sleepless night.
Untouched gravel outside,
Awaiting the restless feet of the passerby.
Where are you – when I’m waiting?

II
I don’t know who I am –
I don’t know what I am for
But these unknown pleasures –
these unknown thoughts want more.
And I’m not too sure –
I’m what they’re looking for.

My windowsill is black –
My life could just be a gas –
All I see –
And All I do don’t satisfy.
Are these thoughts I’m feeling –
Part of I.

The echo voices are near –
From somewhere close to here
But these unknown pleasures –
These unknown thoughts they aren’t mine.
And I’m not too sure –
What keeps me up at night.

Unknown pleasures,
This unknown world,
Those unknown thoughts –
Which nobody knows.
These unknown pleasure,
These unknown thoughts are mine.

III
We shared a kiss upon 
A slip stream of bliss.
I’m sure everybody’s heard of this 
You caught me in-between all your wit.

You got me so high
How’d you expect me to climb back down.
I’m sure I am able to cope
Without you your soul around.

In that back catalogue
Of this sunny afternoon.
I’m having to get lit
To remain in the mood.

And, Isn’t it funny what we’ll do
Just to bite one another lips.
To the sound of somebody else’s tune.

© HT