The Monster (image)

"I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other."
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

Mr Poe and Mr Lovecraft (image)

Mr. Lovecraft to Mr Poe: My dear Edgar, I'm as disappointed as you are, but nothing seems to be happening!

Based on two of my favourite horror writers.

Count to Ten

Then your eyes clouded over,
And you shed a tear.

I told a terrible joke.
You smiled, we laughed.

I held you close,
Your hair a burgundy perfume.

You whispered a shiver down my spine.

I will close my eyes and count to ten.
If you are still here then,
I will believe this dream.

In Memoriam

i pick up the flowers and i
bring them to my face and i
inhale and, there is
no scent of roses. or pink and white
carnations. thank you mother
they are … appropriate

They all agreed,
Hand on heart and heads held high,
To a man
That he was a decent enough guy
And that given half a chance
He would, sooner or late,
Have had his life
In some kind of shape.
The general consensus he

"wouldhavebeengreatbutwasgoodanyway"

Too bad he didn’t see the car
Coming towards him.
Too bad he didn’t see
What was coming to him
Until it was too late.
What a waste.

That’s what they said.

But when backs were turned,
They stuck the knives in,
(Like voodoo dolls
Like pincushions)
Withdrew the bloodied blades,
Staring, entranced, as
Red stained starched white

Like voodoo

it is difficult to write with your
hands in a coffin and.
six feet, under so I talk
with the pen of another.
send them home mother
they only came for the party

No Place for the Poet

‘No place here for the poet,’ cried the crowd.
‘We have our tin gods and our transient things:
‘What need we of soliloquies,
‘And songs that speak to the soul?
‘We are told how to feel and to follow.’

‘No place here for the poet,” cried the money-lenders.
‘We have but one God in Mammon
‘We are the cult of the coin,
‘And demand only the sacrifice of the heart
‘We cannot sell the lines you pen.’

‘No place here for the poet,’ cried the warriors.
‘We unleashed a monster to catch a monster
‘In the name of the Good and the Just
‘Now we struggle to recage It:
‘We cared too much and paid the price.’

‘No place here for the poet,’ spoke the silent masses.
‘Our emotions sealed our fate.
‘Now, we have castrated our feelings:
‘Now, we are all synonymous.
‘We neither care nor uncare and want for nothing more.”

In the dust of the last day
In the echo of a billion souls
As the last fire embered on the hill
They sat and wept and called for what was lost
And cried: “Where is the poet
“To hold his dark mirror up to us
So that we might see ourselves clearly?”

Yet the poet sang no more.

Mr Bob's Curiosity Shoppe.

I

"Just call me Bob", he said
Showing his big toothy-wide grin.
"No need to stand on ceremony, now, is there?"
And because I were only six,
And didn't know what he meant,
And because his twisted, knotted, brown hand
Were almost as big as me whole head
I just nodded,
Poppin' me gum.
But he were still older than me -﷓ an adult -
So I called him Mr.
Mr. Bob.

The big old brass bell
Twinkled,
And deposited its notes around the room.
Some fell behind the counter
Or hid on the shelves
And hung around
Just
A bit
Longer.

I used to go there after school
If I couldn't be bothered kickin' the ball around,
Or if Davey forgot the ball;
Or when it were raining
I'd hopscotch the mud-puddles in the lane,
Weave down the road,
To Mr. Bob's Curiosity Shoppe.

The sign in the window said:
EVERYTHING YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D WANT
but he also sold everythin' you'd ever really need,
Though I never understood,
Not then.
But I'd let the bell twinkle
Pretty much every night, all the same,
And go in an' examine
Mr. Bob's curiosities.

I remember the tiger rug
I remember the stuffed swan
And the brass bedwarmer.
I can still see the rows upon rows
Upon rows of little
Coloured
Bottles
Sittin' next to the patient Toby jugs on the shelves
- I swear one winked at me once -
Or under the counter.
No labels.
No prices.
No customers -
Eitherway, none that I ever saw.
I told him that once, an' he said;
"If I can have just one customer go away satisfied
Then this business is a worthwhile affair."

I never understood that, neither,
But it were warm in there when it were cold outside
So I stayed.

II

I got home late one night when it were dark.
Mum were throwin' pots an' pans at Dad.
Dad hid behind the kitchen table.

I ran upstairs an' cried myself to sleep.

When I got up the next day
Mum had gone to her cleaning job
And Dad had no work on again
So he sat in the armchair,
Faggin' away,
And readin' yesterday's newspaper.

On the way to school I passed the shop.
It were closed, but I backtracked
And tried the handle,
All the same.

It opened.

Wading through the ever present sea
Of stale smoke and spices,
Musk, mug and mildew
To the counter.

No one there, but a scrap of paper:
Dear William,
I am sorry I can't help you.
I can't sell you what they need.
Tell them to look for themselves.
Mr. Bob.

But I scanned the rows of bottles all the same.
What was I looking for?
- A stray label where there had been none before?
- Love?
- Emotion?
- Compassion?

III

I told Dad about Mr Bob's Curiosity Shoppe that night.
He just grunted he'd never heard of it
But I weren't surprised much.
He never left the armchair, nowadays.
You can't find what you don't want to look for, I guess.


IV

A year later, when I were seven
Mum left Dad
After he beat her.

She didn't say goodbye.

Dad and I drifted further apart,
As I grew up,
And he grew old.

I still saw Mr Bob a lot.

He gave me a bottle once ﷓ it had a label on it:
COURAGE
He said he'd given some to a lion once,
But I didn't really believe him.
The contents tasted bittersweet,
But he said it were natural.
I kept the bottle,
But I can't find it now.

V

When Dad died
Mr. Bob came to the funeral.
Aunt Elsie held the wake
But we slipped off early,
Back to the shop.

He gave me my second, and last, bottle,
A red one. With a label.
(I scanned the shelf. None of them had any labels.)

It read: TO MEND A BROKEN HEART.

It were salty, like tears,
With just a hint of strawberry.
Or mint.
Or lime cordial.

When I fell asleep,
Exhausted,
Mr. Bob carried me back to my aunt's house in his arms.

VI

I had to live with Aunt Elsie
And when she moved, I moved.
I never saw Mr. Bob again.

I went back there, last year
But couldn't find the shop.
No empty window.
No 'Closed Down' sign.
No door.
Or did I get the wrong street?
Time plays tricks with the tracks of your mind.

I just wanted to tell him.
Tell him that I'm older, wiser.
Tell him I have found someone of my own.
Tell him all the things I wanted to say,
All the thoughts that my littleboy mouth and mind
Couldn't form.

Tell him I would put the world on hold for this person.

Tell him that I know the truth now:

That the best way to mend a broken heart
Is never to break it in the first place.

I never did find Mr. Bob's Curiosity Shoppe,
But every night
I will visit him once again in my memories.

Just to remember.

The Hatter (image)

The Hatter was the first to break the silence. `What day of the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.

Alice considered a little, and then said `The fourth.'

`Two days wrong!' sighed the Hatter. `I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!' he added looking angrily at the March Hare.

`It was the best butter,' the March Hare meekly replied.

`Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' the Hatter grumbled: `you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife.'

The Caterpillar (image)

The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

`Who are you?' said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'

`What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. `Explain yourself!'

The Plains of Lhee

For many years I travelled far upon a ship of sleep,
My body ageless, kept alive,
While I in conscious dreams survived,
My destination distant stars,
I rode upon a wave of hope and left a dying Earth.

Aeons passed as if in days as I in perfect slumber lay
Yet finally my vessel stayed,
Orbiting a yellow globe,
The seventh round a seventh star,
A soulless, barren, deathless world –
For what need is there for Death
Where there is naught to die?

For thirty days and thirty nights I looked throughout this land
For signs of life: I searched in vain
Yet nothing in this place remained,
This sere and broken sun-bleached plain,
These cursed Plains of Lhee.

And then a light, and then a ship, a mirage seemed to be,
A-sailing on a long-dried sea
That split the arid Plains of Lhee.
Like moth to flame, this eerie craft,
Seeming drawn to me.

A song of silence deafening from this strange skiff arose,
Through every sinew of my being
Pulled me forward, beckoning,
A siren-song drew ever on,
I followed at the call.

All dead, all dead the passengers, all dead lay all the crew,
Their withered corpses alien
In shape and face to me and yet
One thing transcended all of this
And etched into my eye -
A sense of sheerest horror at the moment that they died.

Bodiless, I lingered long upon the Plains of Lhee,
Longtime ago decayed to dust,
And join that savage crew, I must,
But one last task remains -
Unfettered by constraints of time
And space I cast my conscience wide,
To find a writer’s ready hand
To pen this tale of mine.

The Ship of Dreams (image)

The Ship of Dreams

(Inspired by the song 'Mindsleep' by Naseby Crossing)

"They stand on the platform life. Sometimes one, sometimes many: the hopers, the sleepers, the disillusioned dreamers. Their dreams are beacons in the dark of the blackest nights, and, as they watch, a mist forms on the horizon. Out of the mist sails a ship, from ...a land beyond lands. No ordinary vessel, this. No wind to fill its sail, powered only by their hopes and fears.

They board, one by one: the old man, the child, the star-struck lovers. As the gangplank is raised the ship departs, making its perilous journey across the Seas of Lethe to the Land of Dreams, beyond the Veil of sleep, the place where dreams take flight. As the boat rocks gently, the song of the siren lulls them into mindsleep. There is a long way to go before morning."

By far the most complex piece I've attempted, taking 2 weeks from concept to completion. A mix of 3d, Photoshop and photo manipulation.

The Dead of the Wars (a song)

HER
On a midsummer's morning
In a warm summer rain
I watched from the sidelines
As you stepped on the train
I had tears in my eyes but
You hadn't a care
You were just one more boy
That your country could spare

HIM
I hadn't a care dear
I was one of the brave
We'd be back home again
In a matter of days
We'd be married by Christmas
And the ghosts that I'd fought
Are only small prices
For the safety we'd bought

Come my brave ones
Come and tell me
Are you happy when you're lying
In the wastelands, in the graveyards
When we've forgotten your names?
All the girls they lie awake at night
Dreaming of their lovers
In their dreams they are walking
With the dead of the wars

HER
In an overgrown corner
Of some foreign land
Lies a forgotten marker
For a forgotten man
Who once walked beside me
Come sun and come rain
In my dreams we'll be walking
Hand in hand once again

HIM
In our dreams we'll walk together dear
We'll be lovers once more
We'll lay flowers at the gravesides
Of the dead of the war
I'll protect you, I will shelter you
From the sound of the guns
Though it's quiet now, on some distant day
The wars will return

Come my brave ones
Come and tell me
Are you happy when you're lying
In the wastelands, in the graveyards
When we've forgotten your names?
All the girls they lie awake at night
Dreaming of their lovers
In their dreams they are walking
With the dead of the wars

Murdered I Am (a song)

Murdered I am as I walk the long road
That leads to the place I called home
A knife in the side my life it does bleed
May the devil look after his own

Mother! Mother
Don't wait for me now
Find a carriage and six and a coffin to fix
And lower me down in the ground

My friends and companions you weep for me now
For ne'er shall I see you again
My lover she comes with a sweet bunch of roses
To place at my head when I lie

Mother! Mother
Don't wait for me now
Find a carriage and six and a coffin to fix
And lower me down in the ground

Hanged will he be from the strong gallows tree
And strung by his neck till he dies
Till men cut him down he'll be talk of the town
And placed beside me where I lie

Mother! Mother
Don't wait for me now
Find a carriage and six and a coffin to fix
And lower me down in the ground
Lower me down in the ground

Rags to Riches (a song)

The first time I saw her was down by the docks
Just herself and a whistle wrapped up in a box
She was begging for pennies as she hid from the wind
And tunes she was playing lingered long in my mind

She played 'The Wild Rover' and 'The Black Velvet Band'
And I placed a new shilling in the palm of her hand
She thanked me by offering my fortune to see
If I would walk with her to Paddy McGee's

Well, the bar it was empty as we walked through the door
As she led me upstairs to the second floor
And she told me to sit on the dusty old bed
She looked in my eyes and these words she said

'Rags to riches for one of us plainly I see
Riches to rags for the other may be'
She kissed me so gently my heart it was won
And we lay together 'til night it was done

When I awoke my head was as sore
As if I’d been drinking for twenty or more
My wallet and clothing I could not find
And of the young woman there wasn’t a sign

I wrapped myself up in an old linen sheet
And by the back alleys I made for the street
I made it back home by the cold morning light
But I could not forget her, try as I might

The next time I saw her was Mulligan's ball
She paraded herself as a lady and all
Dressed in a gown of satins so fine
I swore to myself that her heart would be mine

I took it upon me to ask for a dance
And she did not deny me, nor my bold advance
She looked up and asked me, 'Pray tell me your name'
As I looked in her eyes, these words I did say:

'Rags to riches for one of us plainly I see
Riches to rags for the other may be'
With kissed with a passion, her heart it was won
And we danced together ‘til night it was done

So it’s down to the church as the dawn it did break
In front of our witness our pledge for to take
And the love shared between us will never depart
For when she stole my wallet, she captured my heart

Sugar Thoughts

I

Bus in.
Drink. Corner.
Smoke.
Noise...
White ice gas ‑
(sickening)
‑ Blue light
‑ Dance?
‑ Yellow
‑ Jive.

Corner (Girl, smile)
Dance? some more.
Drink.
Piss.
Dance floor.
‑ Neon.
‑ !Frantic!
Rest.
(Noise...)
‑ !! S t R o B e !! ‑
(Pulse)
‑ Red.
‑ Mellow.
Slow dance.
End.

Fucked up.

Home.


II

This place is alien to me ‑
False.

So my cancerous breath
Will linger in a corner
And I will hang on the wall
A little longer

Until I sift through the neon seas
To a quick exit.

(Don't mind me. I'm only passing through.)

Song

Billy boy, I'm lying
Billy boy I've lied
Led you on to our hearts' contents
But carefully sidestepped the feelings inside

Johnny you're only dreaming
And Johnny, I dreamed your dream for you
See through me, yes;
But see me through

All the times - count them -
I lay by all your sides
All the times taken,
In honeydewed thighs

But look, understand,
I'll never love you
And the only one that loved me
I chucked him, then screwed him
Used him, then threw him
In the gutter; I leave him
For dead

Never hope to understand
The thoughts in my head
But I want you to know
I'll always be alone.

a vote for Grendel

when Grendel left his sorry throne.
and crept unseeing, unknowing,
climbing the mossy banks of his lonely refuge
a pathetic, rambling bastard-child
of Nature's perversion,

nobody thought that he had perhaps come from a one-parent family
they did not see:
no one looked behind his eyes -
it's always the same.

no one even stopped to ask his name.

Iced Poles

We were twins, You and I
Parted at birth,
And frozen in our separate lives.

The ice thaws now, a little
And a hand breaks free,
Or there a foot

And an eye blinks, and sees for the first time
True colours.

But the gaze is distorted through the pale opalescence

And your ice hasn't yet melted

Sonnet I: Faithful Love

And when that winters wrath is dead and gone,
When springtime's laughter echoes once again,
And newly on the hills shall fall the rain,
Then know that only then can we be one;
In vivid celebration of the sun,
To still the shatt'ring shards of your pain,
I hold you close for my own selfish gain;
When winter calls again I'll turn and run.

For only to myself can I be true,
And if you look deep down then you will see
That, though my heart beats, I can't see it through;
To tie me down is not to live life free.
And though there may be some small pain for you,
Know: faithful love is unbeknown to me.

The Quill

Ink-blackened fingers
The price paid
From the quill of the cob
For the letters that flow
Scratching and scraping
Rip lines from the muse
Revisit the well
Of deep inspiration
And return to the page

The Gate

I climbed over the gate
And was shot for trespassing.

I crawled under the gate,
And was arrested for unauthorised access.

I went around the gate,
But found deep trenches and barbed wire fences.

I took the straight and narrow,
But found a gate blocking my path.