On a sea of blood

On a sea of blood, there is a black throne where Satan sits
Worshipped by his state religions,
Carving up countries with his political wars

His character is etched in all of his society
In lives and deaths, in crimes and laws

And no one blames him for our troubles
And no one blames him for our sores

They would always have cream

They would always have cream with their after’s
A little white dog would run in and out.
Cabbage Whites would flutter over the untrimmed lawn
Their TV could be heard in the street as the sunlight faded from the sky.

They would take their place in the meeting hall
They would listen with the ears of a crowd
They were panned like gold from a stream
And sewed like sequins onto Gods shroud

The air went underwater

The air went underwater and became a fish
The air formed a strong wind and became a herd of buffalo
The air followed a winding valley and became a snake
The air went very still and became an owl

The air rose up over the storm clouds and became an eagle
The air became a little breeze and became a rabbit
The air became a sound like a voice and became a man
The air made a sound like an explosion and became a harbinger of war

Where are you from?

Where are you from? Where are your people?
Where is the hearth that would welcome you?
Where have they gone? Why did they leave you?
The land of your birth, am I from there too?

I turn my eyes to the south where the sun walks across the land
I turn my eyes to the north where the stars hold my hand
I turn my eyes to the east where time is buried in the sand
I turn my eyes to the west where the red skies expand.

But nothing do I see of the world of you and me
And there’s nowhere to go, and only the past generations know.
Oh, my uprooted people, oh, homeless ones
Where will you find a season for your daughters and your sons?

I am a Whale

I am a whale
I’ve swallowed so much plastic
I regurgitate it all
it’s a big yellow stain
floating in the ocean
Big ships sail through it
the sick slime melts their hulls
they sink to the bottom of the ocean

I’m a whale now
looking for clean water
Searching across the ocean
I swim ever so fast
Ever so faster I swim
I swim so super fast
I am like a runaway train
travelling through the ocean
heading for San Francisco

I am a whale now
with a belly full of plastic
in my death throws
I run aground
I discharge a mountain of plastic
all over your beautiful beach

I am a dying whale
with plastic in my brain
my eyes are turning red
I feel so much pain
I am in so much pain

 

 

 

 

 

 

She loves to make animations

She loves to make animations
Of little things that move about
She is their dotting mother
And they will never be without

The dark Thames floods her heart
With its inky black night
And drowns her little children
Their happiness, her spell of light

For somewhere beneath her tower
A gateway openly calls
To the ravens of the dark side
To invade her walls

She’ll describe her little creations
As moving creatures of light
Then the darkness intervenes
And they become the prey of night

From a proud and smiling mother
Into a furious mournful maid
The mortality of life is found
In the animations she made

Chapters torn apart and scattered

Chapters torn apart and scattered
Through the land of time
I want to avoid them completely
In case of dying

Love leaves – fall in the wind
I follow at a funeral pace
Wishing the wind would turn around
And blow them in my face

The clock face of love, unwound
The steps of time go up, then go down