The Wards Of The Worlds Radio Message:
To be honest most of my life without choices
Was followed by Super Ward voids
And far too often few human voices
But I did have massive visions and
Terrible maggots on my skin
Practicing invasive derisions
So I learned to hear them chew
Till they sang as flies in a queue
Telling me I had to change from
A rubbish filled social loo
And a fucked up family stew
That's why the notes in the Ward grew:
What else can a broken child in a man do ?
Why does it take over 60 years though?
Why am I a child still playing in radioactive snow?
Why are my legs metaphors of shaking threats
And broken life and why do I wake up
Screaming still from old abuse and the want
Of a knife ?
I learned the body is a super library
Where cells are books and nothing forgets
And every December for me all family dies
From my Children's home's trauma cries
And I heard back from that choir of flies
Who over my memory-body being abused as a kid
Sent buzzing and fast sets of dirty sighs...
It was then I realised :
I've changed into replay-able
Ward Wide Archives!
I took two buckets to the therapist then
Me and kid Atlantic eyes cried and cried
We filled them both and we needed
An extra ten...
I heard my weedy soul speak out of the grim
From the bone grinding bleak and feudal dim:
You have made a life of reflective survival
A million looks upon second looks
Altering the power of neurosis slowly
And its power-mad defensive hooks
I see a simple need to get it into contact and books
Make consciousness become a revival
Then a statue rose of all the Ward notes
They all cast wet oozed tears and decisive votes:
For we are the languages of
Jim and John Joanna and Lucy and
Many a dad and mom
And in you Mr Frail old child
Our last voices and ship floats .
And on the Internet Radio
I pushed for contact :ELLO ! ELLO ! ELLO !
Are you out there
Or are you inside
Society's strait jackets and torture coats?
(edited on Tumblr 2nd April 2017]