'Morphine.'

Down the dark dire road

mechanical, morose

the exit

the only end

intricate droplets

throbbed slow

delirium

as happiness hung.

My ivory tower

withered

manhood stripped

sober sensuality

septic

the only tear

one final fear perpetual.

Languished

on the merry-go-round,

high

life surreal.

I laid with the surge

laughed with the past

wired my wretched wonderland

three days

four nights

refused the restless

reality,
the internal inferno

swallowed

my infinite being

pounded my paternal pride

drew me to the abyss

as I peered

over the periphery.

Michaela James.

Pillow Talk.

I was the blood that bred ill
the treasure of moments
taken
without due care,
eloquent
the whisper of death

I ghosted into your dreams
watched you undress,
penetrated your innocence,
lust dispossessed.

You took me with the smile
cruised my affection,
danced
with drunken allure
upon my fertile ground

hooked on the ether of desire
you completed me,
evolved, perspired
never defeated me,
needed the need.

I was the flame of devastation
the tragedy of your mothers nightmare
bored into your flesh,
I trashed your love and
dissolved the skin.

Immersed my poison into your womb,
caught the demon of every fable
entwined your longing,
twisted it
turned the tricks

white lies

ripped
your husband

from within your mind

tossed him aside.

© 2007 Michaela James.

the rapture.

He tempted violence within
coursed the veins of her dreams,
tortured the need
to survive
pounds at a time,
trawled the ravines
of slags like a disease.

Powdered noses cracked the mirror,
innuendo draped over lines
the nameless face,
the stench of the bowl spilled
stifled her slender frame
flushed away.

Piss and venom spat as
haggard fingers fumbled the creases,
tore every moment of feeling
as time reigned over
her desolate landscape,
squealed at the pain

watched,
waited

withered.

With each line
taken
the spirit sanguine, salted,
thrust upon thrust
eased with every drip of human oil,
rebellious of morality and
joyous in the instant.

Decadence dwelled in the slum of her heart,
imposed the want
the exposed need,
defiled every ounce of allure
yet recompensed the hurt
with each erotic stroke,
tears bought as
the rapture

raped respect.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'Ethan.'

Shards of my paternal heart
crystallise,
mood sunk

unconditional
love
on the road of winding life.

My friend,
my treasure
I keep close,

forever is a long time,

my friend,
my pleasure
to hold close,
forever it will be:

this gift given
taken with gratitude

his friend, I’ll always believe.

Affection in
full splendour,
his porcelain face
in a smile of scars

my son.

November 14th
he arrived,
lay in my arms
did not cry

listened
to my personal lullaby.

The promise I made
to hurt like I’d died,

take each blow

it’s all he’s worth,

stumble and ache for our rights,

every time crushes a little more
yet the pain will ease.

No-one can feel every thought
that passes through
each time I take another
blade,

each swipe that severs the solitude,
the photograph I stare into
drives my will to survive

and I feel.

Ethan, my son
I protect:

keep
see and
hold you

within my laughter
within my tears,

hold these moments like they are my last

as I cry.

© 2007 Michaela James.

Severance.

Severance.
Gratification of being born
drowned on
the edge of reality,
stopped
each moment of weakness as
she slipped from the grasp of her spider's web,
tampered by tears of torment,
shell dead
more than it ever was,
insides gutted,
spewed across the wasteland of
every mans wet dream.
Vultures laid in wait
eager eyes
blood red with rage,
circled each emotion
penetrated the locked door of innocence,
spilled the sanity of sorrow's native daughter,
reached the monotone horror
of her deepest recess,
stripped each ounce of life,
severance of breath.
© 2007 Michaela James.

'One.'

Purge the insides of feeling,
emancipate government whores,
political pain unleashed
every waking night
sleeping day.

Watch the fear ooze
from the screen,
stench of the overcooked world,
baked over Bollingers at a five star
monument.

El Presidente emblazoned
on the front page

comrade-in-arms without a clue,

night time news
to headline print,
catalogued for my son's future
demise.

Two phallic symbols of extravagant
proportions
sunk:

in the name of God

one by one
the lonely decent,
snap-shots of what we've become.

One boy, gun in hand
spray can the other

morally defaces his innocence lost,

father half-dead,
my mother?

his America, mother gone.

Idealistic
idiosyncrasies,

idolised
the bearer of the U.S. Dollar

the English Pound shadowed
secretly weeps for independence

and is on borrowed time.

America with it's tired allies
off their leash
belly's showing,
for all their might
won't paralyse the parasites.

Creatures of God re-armed with blind belief,
await the callous call to jack and blow

the western world

apart

thankyou.

Michaela James.

lysergic acid diethyl amide.

It came to pass
as I passed
over,
lids shut tight
imagined
thoughts of the last sip:

pollen air,

the taste of triumph
the taste of despair:

bitter sweet.

The final thought,
the final tear
seeping

my final beat
creeping:

thro' shadows I'd not dare.

The last thing I heard:'

I told you it was over.

'Tick. Tock. Tick.

Mindless, banal
pulse of the clock,
hypnotised
I float down the canal,
freedom washes over me,

my comeuppance

welcomed with such joy,
pain oozes from bloated pores:

release of anguish needling my existence.

Existence?

37 years, not a tock more
myself
the babble

'Do it, do it, do it..'

'your shell immortal.

'the reality I fear not.

Though the image begged to differ,
my arms flailed:

devoutly nailed
to the low of my high.

The mirror mocks me,
each hair,
crease and
minute detail

that has graced my unearthly face.

A piano played my mind,
couldn't get what I was suppose to say,
onlookers
carry their bigoted shame,

a tragedy and
I'm not to blame,
the ache subsides as they

burn my charred remains.

Dance of joy
hooked
upon free flowing hash,
eases the inevitable
sleep.

scores feed
pick my intoxicated flesh,
the subconscious core
silently screams,

dilated,

lacking fear

of an early death.

Michaela James.

"The Falling Man."

Angels on the black breeze
eased the way down

flames licking past
through falling shards

howls echoed in silence:

grey silence
that held all hearts poised

filled the void that was once called home.

Symphonies captured the strokes
of
every
moment

the staccato pluck

paused for no-one

strings pulled
every
tear

choked
voices.

Bricks and mortar
strewn across
the plateau
of my ignited being

as sanity simmered to death
long before
the flesh

wept with each
cinematic thought

alone

yet
surrounded by the falling man:

the ghost of hope burning brightly
amidst the guilt

madness made immortal
unforgiving

relentless and eternal.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'God Made Me.'

Cookie dough innocence
painted
on walls,
fingerprints of time

cracked
the hourglass

each aspiration
of youth

sheared.

My virtuoso performance

through the window
beyond night,
swallowed
the created mind,

etched the route of evil
behind those deep brown eyes:

eaten

the reality of waking.

Siphoned celluloid memories
cascaded,
laughter drowned by rivers
ragged tears

the truth
the dare

whispered,
the final sneeze missed

mother's nurture.

Read between the lines and
saw

looked beneath the surface and
heard

shallow screams served cold

scratching at the deep white,
the endless circle
of my belligerent landscape.

Frame after frame
torched

by my hand

ridicule at conception
reached inside,

stripped
dignity as
desire fled death

without conscience

God made me.

© 2007 Michaela James.

life's harvest.

Life's Harvest.

Puppets on strings
limp
uninterested
shimmer to the command
of fate's twisted smile.

One with an Uzi,
another
a Glock:

the excuse for father's absence.

Working class war
whore
dissected,
rotted reason of banality,
wetted by the appetite
of every strangers intrusion:

fists clenched
face frozen frayed,
pupils dilated
rage:

they were mummies boys.

White lines peppered the neon glow,
insight pickled
beyond delusion,
consequence of feeling poor,
rooted from the age of six.

Desires overflowed with every passing blow,
erect extensions of manhood
pleasured,
each scream driven,
showered the mall,

memories like shards flew faster than
R.E.M.s at 5:05.

The whites of my eyes
popped
as one voice echoed

'please… forgive me.'

Words
filtered
without ego,
desperate
yet warmed.

Death.

the blanket that wraps us all,

life's harvest.

Copyright.2007. SYMPATHY'S SYMPHONY

Michaela James.

strangelove.

The heartache of innocence
created by soiled memories,
drove the devils dice
through God's eyes,
my hollow scream
split in two

frozen fears
ideas
ill informed,
stomped out education by
raising hell within my childlike mind.

Mother was manipulated six fold,
father?
the guiding hand,
fists for favour and folly,
uncompromising unity of the left and right.

The only place to hide
was the distant dream
drowned,
towering brothers of immense power,
our only playground of green
browns and
blood reds,
bitter sweet utterance, windswept.

Mother was grotesque,
father?
the binding glue,
clotted the gaping wound,
my vacuum I called strangelove.

Hereditary ignorance of emotion
treasured more than my passing heartbeats,
captured in the wrong time,
born to two monsters,
reconciliation raped by retribution.

I turned full throttle:
left them behind,
severed

yet forever entwined.

©2007 Michaela James.

one small voice.

One voice
small
supersonic,
caresses the walls
aches for deliverance,
lashes the water of life.

One small voice
chatters,
devours
every ounce,
strength born of pain,
oblivion the reality.

One small voice
drowning,
the meaning of life
crawls back home,
regret to be conceived.

One voice
small
reluctant,
innocence crucified
with the first gulp of air:

chokes on the tears of mother's indecision.

One small voice.

© 2007 Michaela James.

personal ghost.

I see you laughing
I see you cry,
it hurts as
i'm alone in this world
out of my mind
a helpless pain,
eternal..

once upon a time I lived.

I can't get you out of mind
sleep easy
close my weary eyes
if only I could..

watching those flowers grow
the summer sun rise
how I need to feel you,
i'm so cold
an empty sorrow,
can't let go.

I'll watch,
keep forever
your beauty I idolise,
your tearful smile
for me,
yourself and all that's gone
to see you standing there
holding onto what we lost,
trying to touch you
wipe those tears – tears that care.

You know I still love you
and there's nothing I can do
if only there was..

I see you lost inside,
I want to hold your hand
kiss your lips
your skin one last time,
to tell you that it's alright..

so sleep tight my love
without fear
i'm by your side
always here..

your shadow
your angel
your one true love
I promise..

your personal ghost.'

{sympathy's symphony -2006(mj)}

Michaela James.

asleep

Darkness envelops our world
a daily occurrence,
the necessity of life: sleep.

I, myself
toss and turn:
little by little,

survive.

The amber shadows crossing my bed,
the humdrum drone
of clinical silence,
drifting through my lobes.

Counting the seconds
striving for dawn to rise,
backwards they seem,
mesmerising:

to the left dull, digital figures
mocking my very worth.

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
hypnotic yet disturbing,
as my being perspires
the listless breath needling quiet.

My eyes squeezed tight
framing images passing by,
each thought a moment of yesteryear
what should have been and what has not,
animated shadows playing peek-a-boo,
scaring the reality of waking up.

Startled!
I sat up wiping my mouth,
alive and lucid
yet confused as the orange littered my room,
was it a dream?
I think not:

A passing pause occurring
fooled my being,
the clock displaying five past three,
lost for a moment
indulging de ja vu:

again.

Faces seep through the cracks of the walls
laughing at my deprivation,
toy with the sanity I once had,
and the yearning for peace,
the place of pleasant dreams.

Each night I feel the world's burden,
happy thoughts swallowed by the paranoia,
that this is it:

the final journey of my meaningless existence,
an inconsequential speck of dust
falling through time,

asleep?

enough is enough.

© 2007 Michaela James.

sleeper

Images I can’t portray
put on paper
or bring myself to describe,
fear
guilt
pain :
unease with myself.

Jaded memoirs
soothe
yet fill me with turmoil.

I’m in every picture
song
written word,
within the flicker
a flame
a teardrop falling
memories
belonging to no-one.

I can see through the mirror
beyond what is real
as though I walk without care
fear.

I feel..
hate
shame
love
quiet unease

sleeping with pain.

To you I’m handsome :
look closer
deeper,
unworthy of any life,

a sleeper

trapped like the flame
the tear
aching to be released.

Born

longing for my true place
with those I’ve seen
pass away,

life and
death
buried

are my dreams.

I am lost
the child’s innocence

lost..

everything that lay here once,

your broken heart
the faded photograph,

my reflection
a shadow in the night
the melodic ghost in the corner of your eye,

voice of an echo passed.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'The meaning of life.'

'The meaning of life.'

Solitary, tears consumed the silence
the clock watcher's monotony broken,
grains meticulously dripped
single file
slipped thro' God's fingers
faster than he imagined.

With no more answers
the moment arrived,
in full view of an unsuspecting world
he appeared:

full splendour with
a wry smile,
we fell to our knees while
others ran.

His wounds
oozed a fading power yet
sucked dry pleas that rode the east wind,
ripped thro' every meaningless notion
that bore a poison fruit.

For all those who believed

taken.

Gorged upon:

the last supper.

sympathy's symphony.

© 2007 Michaela James.

The Dispossessed.

Raging across the face
rivers of history,
fables furrowed
without voice

alone.

Secrets untold
preserved for the unborn,
heavy heart slows,
pauses one last time

stopped.

Clutched in hand
a piece of paper,
blank yet lined
controlled by naked eyes

hidden.

Empty lives court
the desolation,
the passive mind disintegrates,
lost are the tales

corroded.

Michaela James.

'this english gothic.'

Death is not the end
the final beginning..

one last journey
to repent,
wash away..

mend?

The sky opened up
cried for me,
laid out before my eyes

she lives forever
within me,

from my heart a single tear..

hangs low.

Autumn reds drown her face
my makeup slides,
blemished by a single note
a chord or two
played.

she fall's from grace
this audience her audition,
her hope
within my heart displayed
silk and lace

this english gothic
clutches his heart..

her soul.

From 'adagio' to 'fur elise'
an english gothic without sympathy
his symphony

fades.

The orchestra plays
tears drown my mood
captured by a single note,
a chord for two
played..

so alone
without you
my only hope.

The violins can't ease my ache
within the deep, dark black
this english gothic
torches his heart..

her soul.

This adagio
slow and soft takes hold
smothers me

silence unfolds.

Written are the words upon my stone..

''From his heart a single tear hangs low
with an autumn red upon the blade
this english gothic cried.

Now he is heaven made.''

© 2007 Michaela James.

'paradise lost.'

it’s here again
beginning of an end,
our trashcan whore
spills,
chokes on oblivion
terminal disease
the truth spread like
wild fire.

no thought nor guilt,
stripped
on mass,
for all she’s worth,
priceless,
humanities suicide.

nature watches
distraught,
through carbon filled gaze,
tied and gagged
she’s indiscriminately raped
to line the pockets of the human race:

earth's cancer.

the plague takes hold
digs deep for diamonds,
building upon building
every resource sucked dry,
running on empty,
gouging her very soul
with concrete and steel.

industrial crimes committed
puking vile rage into the sky,
acid rain
poisoning generations,
consumed by false education
leaving nothing
but an empty hope.

vengeance is nature’s end game
the hurricanes cleanse,
high tides will drown her pain,
ripping up all we’ve known
to late to run,
she’s coming to get us:

the guilt of mankind.

paradise lost.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'the end.'

our time has come as
the season’s blend into one
disintegration.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'resignation.'

spin over an edge
into that sea,

innocence

where raindrops collide
teardrops explode
caught without a dream

implode.

a sweet luscious pain
to sooth those sorrow's,

come the summer
the heavens will cry,
tomorrow will have been and gone,
sanctuary for lost soul's

lost

no aurevoir,
just a permanent.

goodbye.


© 2007 Michaela James.

'An End Is Imminent.'

Fear
our fuel,
desperation's billion's,
displayed within,
without hope
an urge to conform
contort
dissect,
distortion inflamed,
gift wrapped with a bow
kisses and all the best
a wish to freeze tears,
false feelings
of a not so whiter mind.

The hurt
lies within
unaware,
sentiment divine?

With truth lost
they won't oblige,
let us know
that all's not well,
the book's they burn
they'll never let go.

It'll cost the earth,
the truth of the matter
we are here

alien
viral
we are forgotten.

The drink
the drugs
a life of hell,
two days stand out

his birthday and mine.

Fake smiles
happiness pretends,
drunken
hallucinate,
trip to the abyss,
the revolution very late.

Hear me now,
vulnerable
realisation,

pray.

Our children can forgive us.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'script of the bridge.'

she beckon’s you with open arms,
calling you, needing you to be true
true to yourself,
and without self belief it’s hard to refuse
her charm,
her warmth,
her untold wealth,
a welcome so divine
like a true friend,
indiscriminate as she gives a helping hand to end,
over her you go, one final time
(you know you should go home),
but within there’s a feeling so alive,
a rush so high to end it all

and as you fall
she takes you,
another lost soul
to call her own,

if only you could fly
upon the nights sky,
feel free from pain
as she calls your name,

the realisation as those lights fade
your hopes,
your dreams,
your desires cascade

and as she smiles she cries
as you scream you fade,

and once again,

she’s failed to save.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'jack.'

A baby girl
her right’s diminished
from the day she was born
to the world of debauchery,

no thorn incrusted crown,
lifelong poverty
to learn a mothers trade

dirty.

Incapable of life’s luxuries,
twist
turn tricks
to lose her mind,

she will never know
her rightful place.

Down dark alleys
pennies for time,
close her eyes for the gentleman,
the fruit dampens her lips
she cries,

slumped
with fading regret
never to be met
as she flies.

Time does ooze
from her slight frame
as the shadow calmly walks away:

Jack - my friend, my foe,
the trojan horse
bearing gifts,
one bite
she’s licked,
good of the crown.

The opium stench
of the crack house,
absinth
laudanum

the ether
smothers an ill crowd,
unbeknown to all around
with a cackle
a howl,
the surgeon leaves his mark.

One by one they fell
over time
delicately spliced,
missing parts for posterity,
to tease
indulge,
clown around
for the price of a grape..

cheap

you may think?
at this time
richer than you could ever imagine,
beyond her wildest dreams
pleasure..

innocence
torn
vulgar.

His whiplash smile
with a flash of silver,
bounces the moonlight as he severs:

controlled
adept
not a sound

the love of the crown.

Do you believe in happy endings?

that fairytale gleam of the silver screen

for one little girl i never known,
there is it would seem:

a distant land,
peace
sanctuary

to live her life,
not the one she deserved

of palace’s,
queen’s and prince’s,
her rightful place
upon the throne:

murdered

by high society
as she was born
to a working mother,
who had her mind taken
locked away
ne’er to be seen again.

But jack who are you now?
the irony
of your ill fated delusions,
your own mind

now gone.

Sacrificed

for queen and country.

The price of infamy.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'new years day.'

today
the first day?
rest of my life
so ‘they’ say..

down the street i go
not across it,
this isn’t a cry for help.

an end that must end
to finish what i’ve done,
end the pain of a broken man
of the human race
the virus i am..

the virus we all are,
can you see how i'm foiled again?

today
the last day?
my memories of life pass away
gouged.. by the wayside
world's apart,
divided by oceans
as the northern lights beckon.

can’t take this ride

no more.. not then, not now, not ever

down the street I go
to cross it is to fail,
a cry for something
i don’t quite know.

look within my eyes
you will see an empty space,
appetite gone belly full
waiting patiently
for my high,
a high to conquer you all

the crimson boils, it flows
ebbs away, the mind chatters..
endless. there is nothing more,

myself and i.. a broken mirror

my maker holds my hand
brushes my tears

takes me for who i am.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'numb.'

see what i see
feel what i feel
hear what i hear
god doesn’t know..

thro’ the eyes of my ghost
souls lost
the horrors i keep
within this night so cold.

nowhere to roam
laid out bare
falling apart
a hunger to grasp an elders wisdom
those tears frozen to the bone
by Christ..

i have no fucking heart.

Christ..

i won’t bleed no more
so tired of scripture
verse

isolated,
confused by all others

i ain’t your fuckin' whore!

to see what i see
to feel what i feel
to hear what i hear
god could never know.

in an instant
my son..

i will take you with me

down the barrel of a gun.

© 2007 Michaela James.

'bleeding moors.'

Nightmare echoes
poignant
potent,
the surreal march
relentless,
crawling through my mind.

Shards of innocence,

Pauline
John
Keith.

Lesley Ann
and
Edward..

exhumed, all but one.

42 years, 8 months and 14 days late,
whispers of children,
slaughtered
taunting the unknown,
every orifice concealed
aching for the actuality
of events long dead.

Mind padded
protected from all i know,
sunken treasure buried deeper
than all of gods answers.

Hazy gaze eludes sanity
no matter how i fit the pieces,
lines distort, dance
mock and tease
talking, talking
yet say nothing at all.

So many little voices
velvet sooth,
fermenting to gibberish,
calling my name
tone changing every day.

Howling at the moon
i seek solace,
lines cut up
powdered white,
iced vodka easing me
to a beggars paradise,
fading memories
of what i might have done.

There’s no escape
fearing death,
when witnessed at it’s most horrific:

stunned silence
shattered the stillness,
my boy splayed as bones
ragged doll
dismembered
then
torched.

His innocence
inoculated,
face contorted,
the final scream perpetuated for posterity:

i alone listen

hear his beat upon the brazen breeze,
following me to my alcoholic

drug induced grave.

© 2007 (2nd march.) Michaela James.

'the undeserved end.'

the rain..

the rain lashes down upon my weary head,
soothes
takes
drowns

what i’ve always said,
this death
creeps
into my sunken bed.

swirling
dreams
capture my desires,
a calm so violent
catches my lonely breath,
held forever
is this it

the undeserved end?

before i’ve slept,
wept
or even dreamt
is this all i’ve got to send?

colours fade

suffocate
obscure,

ambers form the embers of my heart..

the irony

tonight of all nights
when i need it most

life.

i feel it
choking

fading fast.

swirling
nightmares
capture my desires,
a calm so violent
catches my last thought,

held forever
this is it,

the undeserved end.

i’ll sleep
never weep
again
nor dream

forever
sleep.

the rain..

the rain lashes down upon my weary head,
always soothes,
takes
drowns

what i’ve always said
this death
creeps
into my sunken bed.

run to my side

gone..

alone..

my undeserved end.


{sympathy's symphony.2007.(orig1994.)}

Michaela James.