Q.V. My Child…Q.V. On this matter go see For yourself. Experience was never gained From staring at books That sit unopened upon Some other person's shelf. Why should I insist that the Substance of my heart is pure? Why should I write you a letter When you label my concern Nothing but an artful lure? You can bore yourself as Easily as I can send you to sleep. You can make yourself smile You can make yourself weep. You do not need me around To hold up and compare Yourself to: You will only insist On finding me lacking if you do, And if you judge my days More fairly, you will come For me screaming unstable Accusations against me, Using my alleged failures To excuse your current insanity. Enough of this bullshit, Of this fatal dance between What was and what could be. I am no excuse for your Struggle or ineptitude. I saw you born I soothed your neonate cries I watched you age from The first bloom of youth To a dried out dusty and dire Desperate early decrepitude. Watch yourself go from blood To dust: the bit in-between Is no more than fumes and fuss. Go see for yourself! See if I care See if I fret and worry about the Quality of a woman’s hair spread Out upon a frozen lake While the car you upturned Sinks to its ultimate fate. See if I care about the books and the gin See if I care about the absinthe and the sin. You did everything I warned you against, So go see if I care when Mermaid fancies drag You deep under their waves To gasp for mercy at their Particular whims. You will not use me as a shim For your crooked table life! Go see for yourself The piss and shit and juice And how it flows through And in and about and without You whatever you do, anyway The knife still turns in the lock The key's still lost in the hay. You can’t stop the tide from turning You can't stop my dreams from burning You can’t halt the night or bring on The day or make me love you again In my own tired shattered way. All those meals you forgot to eat? You chowed down on anger And used resentment for meat. Go see for yourself! Read in between these broken lines: Take that dusty death-tome from my Shelf and walk it along your own Ley lines. Mark your sin. Scar your soul. Go fall into someone Else’s brittle black hole soul. See if I care! I cannot do it for you and Take the pain. The memory of the torment Has never ceased to grow Or waned with the handles Of the years: I still shed Those secret desperate tears. No! I cannot let you borrow my Failures, they are not mine to give My second-hand shabby shame Is my own disaster-draught to taste. I had a life and you laid it Brutally down to waste. Q.V. my child, where ever you are Go ahead be your own shooting star, We are our own curators Our own legend makers We create ourselves Out of the materials Around us. Dark and light Mundane and faulty. We move towards the darkness And lean light-wards slowly. That friend you say you Have doubts about That is a blast to be with And knows how to twist And shout…. I have seen the devil And that is not him - He moves too lightly And yes he is bright, yet Burns too dim to be that Brand of ultimate evil: His flowers are destructive Yet shine upon the easel. My motherly advice is Necessarily rudimentary: Look before you leap, Feel before you judge, Don’t ask any man to Do what you have not pushed And failed to shove. And above all go see for yourself Don’t believe what you are told. Don’t sign up for any one else's Agenda, obsession or grudge. And look at your cards carefully Before you crumble and fold. A chance not taken is only Future resentment to hold. And even if you suspect your Failures will leave others Shattered and broken and torn, Even if your losses are pegged Out for all to see blowing Gently with the clothes Strung out between two trees Waving proudly on the front lawn, Carry on, my child, carry on. Your faults are yours only. Your failures belong to you: We killed off Christ years ago For all the good that it did do! We are all just ghosts of joy and horror Looking to reach a final solid form, Being tossed by infinite waves And washed up in the daily storms. We are all wanderers of the endless desert Then become boats upon the lake. I tried not to be a phony I tried not to be a fake So I will tell you this Truth I jealously guarded: The well-spring shared Means less for me And more for you But share you must To win when all is turned To ashes and to smut. To win alone is nothing There is always someone Else to get to know and love. So, go see for yourself See if I care. Make your mistakes Go walk into those Dank and spidery lairs. Take the wrong turn Get born, get raised Go out there get high Get laid… And get lost upon The storm And if your boat doesn't Make the morn See how much I care. I feel as if I am being strangled By a single solitary hair. I am not responsible For what you will see When you move towards Freedom And away from the safety Of me. Don't take the pages Of my life as proof Enough in itself. Go see Quod Vide I am tired but still There is more that I am forced to be. I have seen the sun set And all the filtered light Tumble out of grace As I sit under This diseased and dying Barebacked City tree Trying to reconcile the fruits Of curiosity with the reality Of me.