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I was a warrior on the plains of Parthia
Riding fast with the rest of my tribe.
We took no prisoners we had no fears
We were the fiercest and fastest of fighters.
The last man I slayed was a business man’s son
He spoke in figures of stocks and shares
Until the shaft of my arrow pierced his pinstripe suit.
Some people don’t fit into the work mould said the gambler
As he wagered his car on his next battle to survive.
You were a loose-limbed dancer in some smoke filled club in Lahore
That night we kissed and transmitted our mutual diseases.
Boys will be boys his mother said
In defence of her teenage son
Who had just been part of a gang rape.
Put them against the wall
And let those Parthian Warriors fire arrows
Into their sick and selfish bodies
Until every drop of blood has bled out.
And throw their corpses to the wild, wild wolves.
The earth is scorched in Africa where she lives
The people are starving and barely alive
But there are no gang rapers, child abusers or cocaine addicts in her village.
Dance for me now my loose-limbed angel
Wrap your flesh around me and soothe my seething blood
For all I see makes me sick and sad.
They posted faeces through an old lady’s letterbox
Because she was brave enough to report
Child abusers inflicting sixty four different injuries on a two year old.
Christ of Christs how can people get so bad??
Let me eat from the lotus fruit
And reach a state of lazy forgetfulness.
Even the darkest nightmare cannot be as evil
As the things we hear about now.
Her favourite plant was called “Love lies bleeding”
And she placed one on the business man’s son’s grave.
Just to remind you you’re no saint she said
As I hung up my bow behind her door.
I can only kill in hate I argued
I’m a warrior not a killer.
But let’s not talk of killing now
Dance your dance that stops the night
And makes grown men tremble with desire.
She smiled and took my bow down from off the door
Saying nothing for you tonight sunshine
Go out and kill a few more of those scumbags on our streets.
I’m afraid to cross the road once the sun has set.
I kissed her fingers and rode off to do some killing.
A BOXING MATCH WITH MYSELF.
My self-destructing streak has let off another bomb
And left me lying in little pieces all over the floor.
I can’t tell right from wrong anymore
As I stumble from mistake to mistake and from bar to bar.
If only I wasn’t such a shadow boxer
Always avoiding the truth but taking the punches right where it hurts.
One day I’ll be out for the count and never box again.
The next time the bell rings I’ll stay in my corner
And let my conscience fight alone.
I can’t stand or understand myself.
So how can I understand you?
I’m standing on my hands standing on my head.
Walking over broken glass to find a way away from me!
And all my genetic weaknesses.
Stronger, higher, faster.
My soul needs some Olympian ideals
To pull it up from the gutter where it lies bleeding.
After a boxing match with myself.
