Where is the truth?
screamed the heart into the night
Why have you abandoned me?
Maybe it’s to hard to be right
The answers are like flotsam
not caring if they’re found
unresponsive to who I am
but upon my flesh they pound
Wraith slide around the orb
a fluxion of lies pooling on the floor
pinning righteousness to the boards
then sliding into the darkness
not seen forever more.
You came with guns and chains
smiles and bright blue sky’s
promises of driving away the rains
all packaged up in lies
You came with guns and chains
with love upon your breath
your firm hand grasped my reins
and led me to my death
A great heaviness bears down on the foundation of the soul
propped up by the heart and commodity of secrets once given
Through a window observations are made as if looking at coal
and then a wonder of worth in a world so busy with the living
A great heaviness bears down on the questions once asked
of where one is supposed to be and why there is no solace
When everything has been done and ones left standing unmasked
the nakedness unnoticed, all that was precious smashed on the rocks
A great heaviness bears down on all the heart has said
torn down are the walls of indemnity along with retentive fears
Wandering across tract of a damaged soul where trees lie dead
head bowed while on knees of hope, finding the only comfort in tears
Odious reluctant recognition
licentious games afoot
pretermit their existence
move on
Explanation
A yukky and sad admission of bad behaviour from others
They say one thing, do another. Both things with no real purpose
Making an effort to ignore they exist
Get over it, stop being dicks.
I saw things today that make me sad
lying eyes and twisted actions
that you know are not natural
how can it be when it takes so much effort
to release the poisonous selfishness
from your dried up and pointless soul
It is sad that this is among us
it is sad we discriminate colour and difference
and not the deviltry you display
I am glad I have my family that help me
understand and let me write these thoughts
so tomorrow I can go back out and deal to you
I am coming for you sir.
You tell me off your life
and I listen with great interest
as you talk of many numbers
that you earn and spend
You tell me of your possessions
how big the engine is
and the toys you choose to keep
you have to build a shed for it all
You tell me of your house
its the best number in your street
let me tell you my number it is 37
the number of my friends
dead beneath my feet
The alarm flashes in the car
2 hours you have to stop
it is so quiet here just buzzing
of fly’s taking liberties
and being over familiar
It is so harsh but has its own beauty
no softness here just tar and red dirt
half way through my smoke now
as ants scamper to me in such a rush
to see if I have a two piece snack pack for them
Its really hot as I think of the job
leaning on my car taking another puff
dark clouds are on the horizon
just to remind me there is an edge
to this dry flat land with hammer handles for trees
My heart flutters as I think of home
smiling at nothing really, just things
I kick my smoke out as it all gets smaller
I need to go now and see the place
where another worker has died.
what do I need to do, I think
is this a hole here or my conditioning
to imagine I want more than i need
and belong somewhere that fits me
or do I fit and this is just badly cut?
but there is always something isn’t there?
what do we do if we have everything?
what do we work towards if we do?
no one can tell me and that’s good
I need to build things too
have my own opinions about things
like why zebras have stripes
why can we know many things
except why there is a hole inside
we can type code that puts words and
pictures on the other side of the world
but we can’t fix some things
and maybe that’s a thing all by itself
to accept it as if it is solid and natural
you are not supposed to fix it at all
and I know not to stand to close
to Pan the monkey at Natureland
because he’ll throw pooze at me
but it doesn’t help me with this
I am accepting it now
but I don’t want to at all
because it is becoming comfortable
this hole in me right here
I just wish it would go away
The crunching of coal beneath my feet
reverberates into my mask
its voice comforting but unwelcome
my breathing loud and expressive
kneeling to him my heart fills
with tightness and naïve hope
the want to rip my mask off and
call to him is strong but means death
my nose runs but it can’t be wiped
ears run out and over he rubber
filling he inside with humidity
he plastic fogs like he inside of my head
he looks peaceful from many days of sleep
I place my hand gently under his head
careful not to hurt which is silly
as he will feel no more
my lamp catches his dull eyes
and through he foggy plastic
they scream questions unanswered
as his face slides off to one side
it is a long time to late
and i can’t understand why I still hope
become angry that he cannot hear me
he never will, ever again
and as we scoop him into black plastic
he panic rises like a fast growing weed
people loved his man I don’t know
and I will have to tell them
black bags at our sides
filled with our brothers
and another part of my heart
is in every one
like a babe to the breast
walking back in to he light
taking off he sticky mask
is welcome and relieving
bent and with broken hearts I become harder
black and unforgiving like he anthracite
in he hole we have just come from
……and will go back to
Anthracite 