Kaptain's Blog

The writings and musings of The Kaptain

Monday, May 25, 2009

It Comes In Waves

in the car it burst
– suddenly –
from the radio:

“stairway to heaven”, it rang

i sang with Plant –
knew his lines by heart:
like you, i can imagine

and the thrill i felt
was so fresh that
it felt at once sublime

as if his words
had met my ears
this sole, enthralling time

has anyone slipped me
a mickey?
viagra for the soul, maybe:
my senses so enhanced

now for no reason
i laugh at nothing:
tempted, next,
to entwine with the unholy
and unleash the darkness
from a heart that never once
has hated

and you know that
this cannot be me at all:
but it’s
“emergency on planet kirk”
after all

hence the sobbing, uncontrollably
while i try to find the faith in me

i look at her face
and search for words
to convey the way i feel

yet can summon little passion
for those missions
in which i must deal

oh yes, it comes in waves
all right

it comes in waves…

…colossal, drowning waves

posted by Kirk at 11:59 pm  

Monday, May 25, 2009

This World Is Not The Same, By The Kaptain – Live Lyrics (A Song In 10 Minutes)

Saw my father die
Heard the PM lie
This world is not the same

I lost all the bling –
Global fucked up thing
This world is not the same

Felt my lost heart break
But will not forsake
This world is not the same

I fled to my sons
Confessing all my wrongs
This world is not the same

And broke into shards –
My soul made of glass
This world is not the same

Lou, Jimi, help me
David Bowie, help me
JK – help me

Forgot who I was
Crawled off the damn bus
This world is not the same

Gargling with gin
What kind of state am I in?
This world is not the same

Enough is enough
I’ve been feeling rough
This world is not the same

I am lucky in love
She’s been sent from above
This world is not the same

Lou, Jimi, help me
Peter Gabriel, help me
JK – help me

posted by Kirk at 10:26 am  

Monday, May 25, 2009

It’s Bliss, By The Kaptain

I think the late, great Ian Dury must’ve been with me when I penned this gem…

“It’s Bliss”

when you drape your arm across me
as we snuggle ‘neath the sheets
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

when you stroke my back to rouse me
press your thigh between my cheeks
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

you are my tangerine
my christmas stocking
my wildest dream
just when my stock is low
you lift me up with
your inner glow

oh yes, this is bliss –
you and me were made for this

when you sometimes say the wrong thing
and i know it’s just a tease
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

when the vagaries of english
leave us frazzled, on our knees
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

you are my butterball
my yummy cupcake
my afters-all
i don’t know what i did
to earn the right
to this lovely gift

oh yes, this is bliss –
someone up there wanted this

when you stare at me with wild eyes
and then rape me with that look
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

when you get a little tipsy
and won’t let me off the hook
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

you are my arctic roll
my chocolate-drizzled
i stumble through the day
to rush back to you
and have my way

oh yes, this is bliss –
you and me were meant for this


each time your facebook page
reveals a new outrage
and i climb on my high horse
i get all in a tiz
because you are the biz
i’m a jealous guy, of course…

when you pant and sigh your pleasure
as i nestle ‘tween your thighs
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

when the heavy breathing quickens
and the prick is on the rise
don’t you know that it’s bliss?

you are my haagen-dazs
my soft encasement
of carnal class
your smile just radiates
the beauty to which
i gravitate

how can i resist?

oh yes, this is bliss
was it He who gave us this?

…and when your silky skin entices
i dive in
to the pool of love divine
whatever is His plan
i’ll die a happy man
in the knowledge you were mine

oh yes,
this is bliss
i’m so glad
t’have felt like this

posted by Kirk at 2:55 am  

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Back To Life

This is where I start putting my life back together.

I’m sitting on an economy class flight to Kuwait – shithole – having just been molested. Not once, mind, but once more:

Twice, therefore.

No buzzer sounded as I walked through the metal detector, but the airport security operative (or whatever they’re called these days) just couldn’t help himself. After squeezing the muscles in my arms and finding a little Newtonian resistance (reactivated fitness regime), he stroked my inner thighs before cupping a bagful of pregnant nuts.

Then, while I glanced over my shoulder at his shy and knowing colleagues, he did it again. The word “cupping”, surely, has no equal in the situation I am describing. Could there be a better description of what his hands were doing? I doubt it. I’m not gay, of course – what a silly use of the word – but on quick reflection I had to smile and ask myself: “Where’s the harm?”

I had done someone else a favour – albeit unwittingly – in a world where favours are few. I was almost glad to be of assistance.

I said almost.

In everything we experience there is surely a lesson: I hope so, else we’re doomed. And I’ve learnt many things of late, in particular the art of tolerance. We’re all human beings, after all: prone to failings which include, for example, taking our loved ones for granted when at times – and often unknowingly – they are quietly despairing and in need of our support. I am fortunate to have received the benefit of unbridled generosity from those close to me (you know who you are), whilst still appearing to others in that ever-so-slightly-wider circle as if I’m a man of great substance. Shockingly to you, those in that latter category, I can reveal that I am not.

Yet I am blessed in many other, more meaningful ways: I have a family, for instance, that has rallied around me and my mother, in the wake of the earth-shattering loss of George, beloved husband and father. And I have a wife who loves me, which is what – selfishly – matters most of all. For every man needs a partner, faithful and true. To this I will return.

It may sound strange but I no longer fear death, having watched the man to whom my existence was anchored keel over before me and die. Earlier, I had seen the resolution in his eyes and – I now know – witnessed his sure knowledge of what was quickly to come. Only once during those few, awful days did I hear him curse – out of anger more than self-pity – while even then he was economic with his use of the vernacular. What he said shall remain private but, suffice to say, it was uncharacteristic of a man who abhorred profanities. To those – not me – who called him “gentleman” George, know that I did not need to: the word was utterly superfluous.

In the car on the way to hospital a day or so before, he placed a warm hand on mine: it was the same hand I remember walking me to school when I was still wearing shorts and wondering whether I was going to get through the day without crying. And while we were driving towards more treatment he knew he would not survive, my father somehow found the strength to offer me a smile. What courage did that take? More than I could ever summon: of that I am sure. I live in hope that my children – all of them – will admire and respect me to the extent that I did my Dad. I am not over it, and never will be, but I know I must begin to recover from his loss. And if my sons and daughters feel as I do now, then I will surely rest peacefully in the knowledge of their love, and feel truly blessed.

And now, returning at last to my dear wife, I can only begin to describe the rock that underpins my life. Not, perhaps, the person you are thinking of. But the woman, indeed, without whom I would surely cave in. The one that I do not doubt. The girl to whom I give my heart and soul. May God bless you, my darling.

posted by Kirk at 2:48 am