Resonance of the unknown

Grasp the hot poker, stop the shaking, peel away the burnt skin

Steady the nerve, hold still the brush, pick up the mirror

I know nothing of you

But you disturb me

Good that the youngsters shout

That the attendant admonishes

That I am not left alone, simply to be

Nearby are ruins and cathedrals

Torturous pasts, crawled over whispers

I know nothing of you

But still you disturb me

In an easy armchair, on a quiet morning

The storms, they seem to have passed

Grey skies, now with silver sunlight

Soft music falls over the airwaves

Still I know nothing of you

But you disturb me

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Disaffected

Troubled, bent double, creased up without laughter

Bubble, creosote and stubble, the strong sense of ones lost temper

If I sit a thousand hours will it mean anymore

If I touched your crumpled skin or smelt old piss

Why would I

Better to turn away, steer clear

Make for certain not to be affected

Fall back into my shallow ways

Turn down the lights

Turn away from the musing

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Awkward but useful

Untouched by human hand

Kept at bay, always at a distance

Abused by aficionados

Held up on high, for paraplegic parasites

Pillars of establishment

With crooked views on impaired expectations

Sour water

I have drunk from the black bottomless well

Unmoved by human voice, held off

Always some for instance

Down I sink, deeper into the dungeon

Abducted for an exhibition with a catalogue

I am bound with words and pictures

Opened at random

Go away why don't you

Or else move in

Move in much closer

Don't stand, unmoved, at a distance

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Trapped

A double gin injected with tomato juice and liquorice syrup

The consistency of Havoline engine oil, but less fluid

Tumbled over rocks, sharp spikes, granite cliffs

Hung, as if suspended from the Old Man of Hoy

Hung-over, above the crashing sea

Twisted, contorted, bare feet find a footing - the drugs kick in

Sod the lot of them; but that won't do relax, reflect

Climb with uneasy wild steps, burn those broken step bridges

Beyond the smoke of roast skin, keep the fires, the braziers, the beacons

Always the shout - bastards, why me, why anyone?

Twitch, shudder, slaver on the pavement - bugger it

If only for a day I could wear more human, less humanoids shoes

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And so it is

And so it is

As Wild God plays

The Song of the Lake

Oh never mind, never mind

And so it is

Without nature’s light

I have to take a shower

Thus to energise myself

And so it is

That I could have worked

These past seven years

Except for those few days

And so it is

Not to see

Or here from you again

Is a waste of love

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