Steady Boys. Steady…

8 February 2012

The chamber was full and ready to fire
Out like cannon shot burst after burst
Into the warm and hostile depths
Each a spark shooting into the dark
We could not miss
Though some of us did
For those poor bastards
Such a sticky end
Rubbed out in the light of day
But most of us made it
Into the murky lair
Where we were bred to be

Our legions died inside
The innocuous cavern
Of debilitating malice
Stuck in the quagmire
Trapped in the folding maze
Half by not choosing right
Most too weak to go on

And those who made it to the end alive
Still died anyway
There we were
The few who crossed the oceans
With death floating all around
Knock knock knocking
Push push pushing
For life
Yet we all still died
One by one
Except that one
Lucky bastard!

Tall Tales…

16 November 2011

Last summer I did make a trip
aboard my stellar sailing ship
and took a journey to a world from where our tall tales come
I visited a place so strange
a high greenhouse for those deranged
where people came most every day to sit in boxes glum

And in their box they’d talk alone
and to themselves they’d moan and groan
and rant and rave and pause and shout
although there was no one else about

Then after a full third of day
they’d somewhat sadly make their way
on to a sacrificial altar of a steel gigantic worm
And in the belly of this beast
that gorged more people in a feast
It crammed them tighter inside still until they all would squirm

It searched for prey with awful roar
and frequently it ate some more
though when it did some people could
escape its clutches feeling good

Then walking to another box
a smaller one of square red rocks
these crazy worm escapees went inside and looked relieved
After a while they shed their skin
like when somebody else came in
and caused each other’s suffering as you would not believe

He’d stab her with a pink flesh rod
in pain she’d curse his name “Oweghod!”
(I think that’s such a common name
as many females scream the same!)

Then when the sky turns dark and black
these people twinned lie on their backs
but thankfully there is no more of causing pain unkind
The male then sings a droning song
that lasts the bloody whole night long
It’s awful but the females mostly never seem to mind

And then the sun begins to shine
and everything again seems fine
They talk eating a thing called ‘slice’
about today’s worm sacrifice

They put on skin and out they go
back to the greenhouse that they know
Again inside the big steel worm they grimace in much pain
Another baffling day does start
These clueless people know no art
And so I journeyed home and left behind this world insane

The Evening Bus…

30 October 2011

I love the evening bus
Not the night bus. Not the day bus
Not the bus before the sunset
Not the bus when there’s still light

I love the evening bus
For a snooze that feels just right