The Bees Where's that little poet gone, He had no taste for theatre These bees he thought could feed an army Alas this banquet stuck in throats Yet with wet black hospitality To set a place for reason With crossed quills etched on paper sheilds Drawing rings around the hives Untitled The ocean is deep in places The Serpent The serpent circles the tree of knowledge The Birds & Bees I dreamed that you were someone else, Untitled The first 8 lines of this were something I found in an old notebook. I added the rest after typing up those first 8 lines and thinking it seemed incomplete. It went a bit stream of consciousness and the abstract surrealism got a bit out of hand, so I apologise for the ridiculous ending! Black lungs,
Stream Thoughts run through me like a stream of water through a colander Each as good as each other But each one more important than the last I grab for them all but grasp only a few And the fisherman is disappointed with his catch From the stream of thoughts. How futile to fish here where the fish arise just once And die and fade to dust? Why do we cling so desperately to these... Most impermanent and inconsistent of mutterings behind our ears? Hoping for a breakthrough A moment of clarity that cuts deep through the fog A means to an end when the stream can stop Because we understand everything. For now we can only turn off the tap, Dry the colander, And keep fishing. Some of my best work never made it to paper. Wise up, Rise up! 'Workers of the world unite, You've nothing to lose but your chains'. Together we will stand up and fight And when we get knocked down We'll help each other up to fight again
We'll sing "Wise up, rise up Hoi polloi, There's more of us than them." And they'll be out of bullets Long before we're out of men.
And the revolution will be Upon us once again.
Your heart beats rhythmically , Like a drum - In time with what the Vedic mystics called Ohm It goes....Ohm!
The harmony in the vibration Carries a tranquil relaxation That transports you to an oasis of peace. The inner kingdom. The centre of everything. In the universe that revolves around you.
It goes round and round, Up and down like a roller-coaster or a yo-yo
And I for one dream Of the ultimate melody Of every voice included In a harmony
Of "Wise up, rise up Hoi polloi, There's more of us than them". And they'll be out of bullets Long before we're out of men.
And the revolution will be Upon us once again
You see creation and destruction Are the same thing really When you look at things objectively Then you are seeing clearly That destruction makes a space To make something new And to make something better Creation destroys what it replaces Without grudge or vendetta It's just the natural cycle That's ingrained in the cosmos And the human psyche and my
Sense of what's true and right
| Shits 'n' Giggles E.P on my SoundCloud Holocaust Denier Will you deny that you have died,When I commit my genocide. When I kill every fascist’s ideas dead? Try to deny the truth of history, When you’re looking down the barrel of a pistol See how real it all becomes when they come for you instead. Pony Express I like to think But sometimes That in addition There's a story Well a kid got shot Well a man took a pony onto a train He thought it would be fine Well maybe I shouldn't There's a priest who's in trouble It's not depressing Well the man walked the pony A prominent figure in There's a man who's a fireman He took a wallaby down and won Well there's a war being fought
Medicated Meditation I'm a little microcosm,
Delicate Essence The delicatessen's Eloquent lessons I'm choking The delicatessen's Eloquent lessons There Our heroes have No deep faith What's the meaning? The answer to our cosmic code We're purposeless now
Bullet Wounds Bullet
wounds and cluster bombs,
|
OMG!
Oh my God...doesn't tell me how to dress
Oh my God...doesn't tell me how to impress him
I am him and he is me
And you are too
And we are the trinity
We are infinite we
Are holy
Who are you praying to?
It's all around and inside us.
Do we really need a teacher
With a book to remind us
To respect our fellow man
And treat our brothers with kindness?
To live as if our judgement day is gone and behind us
I preach no dogmatic doctrine
No commandments, just mind
And a pantheist faith
In the divine that's inside us all
And every room wall to wall
So when you're feeling like
It's planet of the apes
And you are Charlton Heston
Or a lone ranger
Riding Through spaghetti westerns
Try hard to remember
My attempt
To extend my membership
To the biggest inclusive
In-group that there is
It's a club with many names
But they all mean the same
And it's a shame
That different names
Give the impression
Of duality
Because concepts of division
Only hinder spirituality
In reality
It’s fallacy
That we were thrown out of Eden
In our infancy
You see
Heaven really is a place on earth
Belinda Carlisle was right
Rick Nowels and Ellen Shipley
Were insightful
In there writing
How exciting!
But like this
It's only words
And although we're here together
I don't know how much you've heard
Maybe you don't believe
A single word that I have said
And see life as nothing more
Than scoring points
For when you're dead
But it is now and only now
That you can end your suffering
And there might be something after
But who knows?
There might be nothing
And there's one thing I don't want to say
Under my final breath
And that's the thought that I might have to
Live again after my death.
A Word is Worth 1/1000th of a Picture Paint
me a picture With your words in Brail Caress my ears with a fragrant whisper And a silky veil, Damp with widow’s tears Taste the spectrum Of dead septums And let me ladle lies Into your ears. Crematorium Necropolis* Gathered in remembrance, Of a body never seen. Stood amongst descendants, In a place you've never been. Twisted agonising pain, Carved into flesh and stone. Clocks count down as life is drained, Departeth Earth alone.
*Title comes from an engraving on a stone wall outside a crematorium and large cemetery somewhere near Glasgow. I think it was in Falkirk or Kirkintilloch. Light Head cocked sideways, Chewing lips, Into space the boss eyes stare, Who is the light? Who is the light? Stepping Stones One by one we grace the stepping stones, One by one we pull the petals off, Day by day we count the paving the slabs, The Spirit The heavy bodies litter misused space, Keep looking within yourself, In sleep the pains of self are gone, They laugh at me Blood from the wounds from this world's me, | Brick-Dust Unrequited Lust I am you and you are me, Afterdeath If death is not the end, The Fish & The Scorpion Like most stories this starts, With an "In the beginning" With tales told of the time, Before worlds were set spinning, When the books of creation, And scientists say- “Pervading darkness filled a void, Of infinite night with no day.” Until a bang and a flash, And a blinding explosion, Kick started a "something" from nothing. A notion, A motion - Life blood, Love, Emotion.
The corrosion, Of the dense emptiness And dark void so eternal Filled by the Goddess Of care, love - maternal Nocturnal. The morning dawns as day, Follows behind her, Chasing her. Embracing her is daylight. With glistening glory she shines, Radiating soft and gentle light, That caresses away, The dark skies of night, To summon the day.
And come then what may. They say that life requires sunlight, For more than just sight or vision. That energy is so essential, For every aspect of living. Like the fish that's swimming away, From the man who is fishing. And wishing the dish of the day, Was as big as the one that got away. It's much better to be licking The delicious luscious lips Of the one voice that listens. The mouth that blows all bruises Breathes the bliss in With her kissing She'll talk of fish and scorpions Tell tales of constellations Make me formulate a story That provides me consolation In which I am him And she be she And I’m on an island In the sea And she'll be swimming Saying things of how I'm such a Scorpio And then we'll have a conversation And the story then will go... “She said she was a water sign, But he didn't know what it means. He said "I'm not a big believer, In things I cannot see”
But she Took off his sunglasses She said they didn't look right When it's getting so late in the day That people see by street lights And he saw the sight Of gold twighlight Smelled perfect perfume Felt just right Said "How'd you like to build some bridges, Build a life with me? And if you burn our bridges I'll be stuck and lost at sea" But she said "Don't feel down my sweet heart You can swim, you will not sink And you'll never be lost at sea Contrary to what you think
When you're wet with worry in the water You’ll be alright, you'll be fine I won't let you get lost at sea Because I'm a water sign." The story swims in my stream of thoughts Imagining her so Piscean Fluidity ruling her movement so soothing In my dreams, my reason for being.
I'd say she was my Cynthia To quote a poet's epic If I were Keats' Endymion If I were so poetic. |
Sort Your Fucking Life Out She's been living with her hands out borrowing, He's been lacking motivation and adrenalin, They're like I've been talking to my parents they've been telling me, Though I've been telling them that yelling isn't helping me, And I think it might be time to, (2012) | Plenty of Fish I don't go out anymore.... |
All poems written by Joe Ferris, at various times, in no particular order.
Ⓐ☸☭