The night can hold you


If the doorbell rings

And you think you were followed…

What should you do?

Zombie diplomats are everywhere

Looking for nothing to do.

My machine tells me everything

Render nothing unto Caesar

For Rome is melting away into the past

Escape from the evil of the day

You are a pure angel in your sleep

The night can hold you

Until dawn.







All men are enemies


‘All men are enemies.’

The war-cry for the weak,

the brave,

and bold.


A signal:

Which means nothing.

So shallow,

So ill,

‘Why am I here?’

Don’t lie

Don’t even live.


You should know something –

Tell me once:

Of your dreams

Empty and sad.

Your desires

I’m only joking, lover.

You are beautiful,

I’m the one

Who is beyond, death.


The sky shines

gold and silver tears,

I dreamt it all!


I won’t deny it then.

Yes, I am a fool.

Yes, you are always right:


‘All men are enemies.’


I’m very scared of myself.






Back home alone


Descend the mountain of errors

As you think of

her Pacific imagery

Today was

a waste of living


She’s radiant in

powerful openness

You might just be

a lovable error.


Mobile panic leaves itself

in mobile mountains

Deep shadows

follow you home.


On the lonely television

the screen shows

The Interstellar death

in praise of living.




Lazarus Falls


O that I was young again

I would stagger my own mind, with the thoughts of my youthful years

I know the summer days have passed into the autumn evenings

I have watched the tide rise and the tide fall

I have watched the moon wax and wane

I know that

The morning breaks and the day returns

I know that

One day I will no longer bear witness to such events.




The destruction of silence


Watch the heavy clouds that can turn you into the blue madonna

What would you give to be important now that your fame has finished?

You could be as menacing as statues

If you face was as green as a valley

Shame your own bed with sad music

The conduct of all living things will flood the night with your fears

Look to your trophies which cover the fields

Now all rotten to the core

In this new destruction of silence







When the night comes deeply

searching for our dreams

shadows of the moon appear to move us quietly

into sleep and blackness

Solemn is the person unable to enter this kingdom

Half real and half awake

Night time covers all that is craved

Restless frustration released only in the progression

of dawn and the morning dew.




Terror trousers


The day is drunk, and night is tired

This is the way forward to live a life

Don’t be put off, by logic or reason

Remember you are all too human.

Embrace all the destruction you can bring


There is no room in the streets

for your ego and your hangovers

You walk in terror trousers

Fear stalks your own dreams

Hand made horror is the new religion


In the setting sun of this world

Your shadow is spreading out

into the dark

like some slow beat…




We are the men who strive to become gods


This is an age of new

awake from your dreams

break your eternal silence, as vile as it seems.

We are the men who strive to become gods.


Where does the fault lie?

We see all on the news

Infinite passion and pain

That takes us towards a lost eternity.


That nothing be to strange for tragedy

For muses sing of the death of our gods

Darkening thoughts in the hearts of men

Bring forth the days of man-made doom.


You can look out at a sea of faces

All in despair, and now broken to the world,

That they once called home

What progress has been advanced by all this suffering?