Eulogy for Woody Lee

Chapter One: The Great Gig in the Sky
December 24th, 2012
London, UK


The greatest rock guitarist this undeserving world ever knew is dead. He died three days ago. Doomsday. The whole world was supposed to end. For Woody Lee, it did. Continue reading



grim reaper
hands tickle skins
as they tickle girls’ honey
in the splender
in the glory
darkness reigns in dark eyes
hair hanging like the shadow of death
to all those who listen
to the piercing cry
and wicked grinning teeth
frothy broth inhaler
wind surfer
riding the waves of ecstacy
along the brain-pan
of my worst nightmare
the sun smiles for you
but eyes are too blind to see
perhaps the chords of inspiration
halt your vision
little one
thick hands, big
fingers like thumbs
gripping, punching, pulling, pounding
limbs of lumber
a clear-eyed sensory haze
masked by a light, intelligent
Irishman’s hero mug
the girl weeps for her man
she cries for the man she cannot have
while he watches others
and fogged

tenth ring

the first of the rings I found in youth
my newborn eyes blinded by its shimmer
I kept it hidden for years
not expecting to find more
the second ring came from my mother
forged in her heart by her endless care
my father granted the third ring
through his sacrifice and pain
it came for me to use as I may
the fourth ring was found in written word
power of information bestowed within
the fifth ring came in splashes of colour
and I discovered the artistry of life
the sixth ring brought with it sounds
music began and my voice was born
the seventh ring was too heavy
holding the weight of the world, it nearly crushed me
it brought me strength and courage
the eighth ring broke my heart
bearing it now, I fear no fate
with the ninth ring, finally, came my love
the ninth ring showed me the way
once gained and placed with the eight
the ninth ring brought me what I sought
the tenth ring
with this I revel in bliss
I create my beauty
I resonate my love-starved
and with it I may reach