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John Paul Wilson

Raga: Rictum

The last sun sets in
The dismal eyes din
The old man blinks
His eyes set in sin.

The struggle has passed
His fixitive cast
His fugitive frown
His star-spangled gown

His terrible grin
His diaphanous skin
His exorcised skull
His bones brittle-thin

The tiger-in-cage
Of a mock-heroed age
Now sets his contentment
Against heaven's resentment

[...] Read more

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In Th? ? Utur?

Were life just a metaphor,
And a flaming meteor
Fell to earth tomorrow
Bearing foreign spore
And though the past was never there?
And the future, under a stone,
Scuttling, like a scorpion!

A million megatons of dust
Doodled out of mooing earth,
Suspended in the crystal air,
Then settling on the puffball tongue,
To pronounce the sentence of our doom
And cancel out for evermore
This pain, this rage, this waste, this sorrow?

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A Visit To The Doc

‘I felt so washed-out - like an inscrutable rune! '
Shall I numb you with my needle
Or mumble something simple
And tickle with my tune?

Like a mixed-out mouse fix
I will fill you with a timeless swoon
And tonight's lobotomy
Is tomorrow's swinging night out
In the arms of Asterix.

Do you ask me for a ‘lyric'
To go with your glass of water?
Do you quote an anagram -
‘The lion lies down with the lamb'?
Have a special holiday -
Eliminate monotony!

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