Listen locked up troubadour
I’ve had just about enough from you
Flat tones with hardly any decibel
What part of the unwritten story
Didn’t you read?
Weren’t you just a little bit stunned
When the little Draculas
Began roaming these cliffs
On the cold nights
The windy nights
Where out in the distances
Witches are heard
Cooking up their recipe
Madness with glee
Forever is the preciousness
Longing is the game
Put forth a valiant effort
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Troubadours and lab technicians
All united; a singular cause
Pulled into the parking lot
Brushed away the wild sea
Battled the neckerswaps
And unscrewed the top
Crossed the great yellow barrier
By walking in through that door
The market was ahead of them
It awaited there lovely wallets
Where they stared in all it’s preciousness
In glitter and in shine
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Pulling away from the parking lots
Mad hatters and tea sets
Blinded by ammunition
The Troubadour and his silent friend
Set out for sea
Bleeding through darkness
Into night
Peddling for fire starter
Drinking whiskey for the cold
Laughing at all glorious things
As wheels of giant steel spun
You shall not run like thee
You see
Past moons and past reefs
The cold sea lay in splashing
Madness settled over mortals
Hell welcomed in
Demons and rat infested decks
Lay crawling amongst eyes of stranded
Bitterly washing away stains
Laid down by the blood of another man
Coveting distant targets
Booty unheard of, unfound
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Reaching the distant lands
With the devil at their backs
Reeling from sheer horror
Exotic bazaars and neon lights
Collector man watched his pray
As the Troubadour and his friends
Circled the shore
Marching two by two
Their prize lay in the hands of a king
Bloodshed played over widowers
Death lay the victim asleep
Washed over with a thin black veil
With a light shower of diamonds
The King was laid below
And you shall not run like thee
For thee has run too long
Over distant mountain tops
Into far off valleys
Soaring across blue skies
Crumbling foreign castles to their demise
Fair haired spoils
Fruits of hard labour
You see
You shall not run like thee
Black masks and pony tales
Sidekicks and sport goggles
Ripped jeans and too good hats
Curly hair and bending knees
Diamonds in these eyes you see
It is over for you thin man
I see you standing there
Troubadour in your madness
You shall not run like thee
Tag: blood
Save the Lives (day 613)
Click click twists, CLOCK
Snake the lock into my glock
Firing rounds that never stop
Yes today, not tomorrow
Your eyes fill up, all with sorrow
Line’s end, you’ve killed the sparrow
March march into the dark
Walk no more in sunset park
This man is off: a hungry shark
Blood for blood does not work
A spoon for soup, but not a fork
Save lives, love, let’s work
The Seasons (day 605)
And fantasy breaks over the ice like award winning actors
Carefully floating its sadness into the cracks of the frost
Sculpting majestic kingdoms for antique traveling
Who walks away with the prize when all soldiers cry?
Dim spots of light fill the sadness over the meadow
While blood nourishes the fresh roots finding the new morning
For then, after one evening of bonfires and dancing
The heavens broke open and spilled out eternity
Laughing out loud as if pricked by cupid himself
As dances all came to a finale and bow
The feelings rustled down in orange and red leaves
With freshly cut pine keeping warmth in the fire
Stranger (day 604)
A passing stranger steps onto the street
Three wise men watch him with their eyes
Pulling apart the layers of unknown
With one single nod it’s all gone to waste
Flying with patience an assault comes ahead
Loaded with a single sword
One made to draw the blood of valiant men
The attack goes ahead
Hands moving without thought
Trained for this night
The four become one
Across the rough surface of the street
Clanging swords ring out into the night
Intensified by the glaring moon high in the sky
The warrior’s shadows all bounce off the walls
Leaving traces carved out on the surfaces
One man with hair tied high above his head
Yells out into the night
A victim to the strangers sword:
One knee, sword curled into the heart
The three that remain round into the stable
Horses are gone; all out for the night
Only the warriors remain
The magician starts the fire and the blazing builds
One nick on the shoulder for the stranger in rags
The wise men were right, they knew who he was
Staring and breathing and allowing it to flow
The three, instant action, begin once again
A sword through the neck takes down the second wise man
His long netted hair flails out in a circle
Around the dying corpse, gasping for breath
Flying down low, another life for you now
With that quick flick of the wrist, two is all who remain
A wise man now friendless, and the stranger in rags
They know it has come to this, they saw it begin
A few knowing glances, a few words to share
But not with this bounty, the booty in rags
Tucked deep inside, is what they came for at last
It is death for one more, this battle is fast
Swords drawn for attack and a rush to the head
Circling one another they trace out their path
The fight and its wings is back on the street
With swords flashing wildly repeating their names
The masters dance in the ancient martial art
Without a noise escaping their mouths
The show, a pure form and fashion, carries on
Dust kicking up and the moons glare from all angles
Then, instantaneous rest
A calming all around as if hushed by the night
Settling of the dust, echoing of the night
And footsteps leading away, one last wise man dead
One stranger continues, awaiting the next challengers without relent
Barb-Wired Fences (day 504)
You sit there and wonder why I’ve changed
I’ve smelt the blood spilt of 6 million
I’ve watched the children scream alone
Searching in the daylight for eyes they cannot see
Holding hands with the pitiless marching them dead
Into the future they’ll never dream
I’ve crawled through the floors
Of ancient deathbeds
Smelling the descent of mankind
As it rummages through supremacy
Cracking along the edges of the wooden walls
Showing through in peeled paint
And barb-wired fences erected in blood
Rotting carcases of un-guilty men
Where we believe, for just a smiling minute
That the changes we make in our recycling program
Will resurrect those peace signs and red crosses
Will help the children smile louder
In piles in the corner stopping bullets with plastic
Who wins at this game?
Smile, we cannot run
Bloody Nails (day 490)
We all fantasize in quiet cafés alone
We all make dreams with foreign lovers
Blessed by nights air that’s feeling good tonight
We all eye up the lone maiden sipping wine
Red hair and blazer on, business skirt, blood nails
Eyes too wide for an unmarried lover
Ears to eager for a foreign voice
Straight back and school girl boots
Tell me, do you like the bad boys, Green Eyes?
Tell me you did feel my eyes upon you
Shh, nights coming out smooth
Sometimes (day 268)
Sometimes it hurts
Sometimes the blood trickles down the sides of your cheeks
And the cold cold hard ground is the only place to lay down
Sometimes faces stare back
Deep and ugly in contorted disgust with what their own eyes meet
Searching for an exit plan, a way out, or a weakness to abuse
Sometimes the is sunshine
Escaping through the clouds in little rays of dancing
Upon walls, upon half faces, upon new growth of flowers
Sometimes it just works
Sometimes when you put all the ducks in a row, and tie your shoes tight
Take those first steps, the others just seem to roll with the flow
Sometimes is what I look forward to
Each and every day that hands us chances to dive into the unknown
The shades of light that flicker back at our conscience and glow
The Wick (day 256)
Blood runs down the pierced skin
Slowly drip dropping to the tune of your heart
Memories flash before your eyes
Like the light slowly fading away
Between your thighs sits an atom bomb
The mind slowly flirting with the wick
“Can we play our song one more time?”
Please, lay down dear
Let me whisper in your ear.
Stop SOPA (day 238)
Wounded
Like a soldier in battle
Crying to no avail
Putting pressure on the blood
Wincing at every move
And completely incapable
Of doing anything about it
There’s Blood Running Down (day 202)
The blood running down
The goosebumps: they fill the only void between space and all time
Lost in the backlash of over indulging
Slept on the wrong side again
Fuck, it’s the same in the end
The blood running down
The last breath holding the starlight deep beneath layers
Forever mourning the weakened desire
Forgotten by the squires
Prophesying all that doesn’t. Really. Matter.
The blood running down
The spreadsheets turning circles on masters and wizards
Poisoning the spells with lurches and makeshift cosmopolitans
Dressed up to please the ever indulging normality
Spiced with dreams of circle jerks
The blood running down
The only occasion left on this moonlit sonata passed these steps long ago
Streaking stains hid by the scared bits of light creeping in closer
But I’ve lost hope of these clever bits
My eyes grow weary, zip goes the bag
And there’s blood running down