Wednesday 28 December 2011

HEAVY METAL WICCA MAN..

Outside Slow Steel

Moves and Sways

Clanging
As
Mechanized
Legs

Bound
To the
Tribes
Rhythm

And Thousand of Demons
And Fallen Angels
Within are Working

Ferociously
Moving

With the

Power
OF this
Metal Groove

An Alchemist
A Sorcerer
Of sorts
Hypnotizing
With

Divine Proportions

Enchants
And
Entertain
These
Demons
Into
A
Frenzy

Using Elemental
Metal

To Move The Space within
Space

Into
Strings
That Move
Like
A subtle Vibration

Then a Wave

As Sound
Is Sent
in Longitudinal Pulses
And Transverse Waves
Throughout
This
Wicca Man

Being his Life Force
And he Moves now With

Intent

In to a Battle
With the
Gods
And
His
Cumbersome
Inertia



Aphorism - Happiness

self knowledge 
is the path to happiness. Become detached from your ego a watcher an observer, obeserve your self and observe yourself Transform...

Tuesday 27 December 2011

My Turpentine Lady

A
Black water
Lays
Shimmering
with
Iridescence
And Curdles
the Air
With its
Noxious Fumes

Rising
Into the
Ether
As this Turpentine
Takes
Flight
And Burns
Nasal Hairs
And waters
These
Eyes of Doom

And in its Shimmer
I swear i see the
Siouhette
Of Feminine Form
And ripples my interest

My Turpentine Lady
Does
Dance
ON this
Embalmed Fluid

And she is
Beautiful
Exotic
and so Deep
No Knife
Could cut straight through
It

Because
My Turpentine Lady
is worth
Her weight
In Gold

And with this
Mesmeric Image
My heart is
Stole

Monday 26 December 2011

Deformed Chocolate Elf

Im massively
worried
about my
Mental Health

Ive seemed
To swallowed a

Deformed
Chocolate
Elf


He was
A Melted Molten Mutation
With a
Chocolate
Scrumtious
Face

And did melt over my
Tongue
Like a
Meal
From a heavenly plate

And now this
Deformed Chocolate Elf
Sits in
My
Belly

And i now all
I can do
Is force out Shit
Like this Christmas
Telly

So dear Sam

Its been a while
But
We'll form more
Memories

And get fucked
On
Schnaps
 on these nights

And forget
These
Forsaken
Mammories

And the Women
With
Their
Fish Net tights

Sunday 25 December 2011

Ivory Corn And The Black Waters

Palid
And
Bleached

Like the work
OF Dark
On Grass

The Ivory Corn
IS Transported
Down
River

Yew
Trees
Align the Banks

Keeping
All
The Black
And Dank
Darkness
That Dwells
Beneath the
Swrirling
Depths
Out
Of the Land
OF the Mortal

It Floats
On A Listless
Fleck
Of
Obsidian
Shimmer

And gets Lost behind
The Branches
Of
A Weeping
Willow

Still Frozen
At
The Site
Where
Her
Babe
Drown
In these
Murky
Depths

The Ivory Head Corn Now
Picks up
Pace
Losing the last few Remaining
Corns
To the Deeps

Whilst an imposing
Skinny Bone
Tree
Knuckles
The Middle
Of the River

And An All consuming
Blackness
At its
Center
Sits Like
A
Singularity

A Black
Hole

Sukcing in this
Floatsom and Jetson

And leaving nothing
But
the Foamy
Carcassed
Remains
Of a Summer Past
In its
Wake

Lemon Yellow Sun

She gave
A
Picture

Of a Lemon
Yellow
Sun

With
Me On A Mountain
Top

Of Golden
Rays
Falling
And
Bodies Bronzed
And Burning
In this Summer's
Hazed
Fun

What a Beautiful
Picture
That
She
Drew

There was Once
Here a Sentiment
A Context just From
You

And i Have now
no
Picture

Or Anything
Left

Just These Eyes
Are left
Ascew

And a Picture
Left in my
Minds Eye

Of a Lemon
Yellow
Sun
That
You
Once
Drew



Thursday 22 December 2011

Once again in the Shadowlands

Its Dragging me
Back

Back
Down
Again

To those depths
And spaces

And my collapsing
Lung
Coughs and Spurts
As
The Shadows
Once
Again
Reclaims
This fragile Soul
Their
Play Thing
&
Im Back
now

And bathed in a
Familiar
Warmth
Like
That
Of Pain

All that will happen know
Is people will get on with they're
Lives
And
I wont
Speak
Now dumb and
Speechless
Just consumed
With
Dankness
And a reassuring
Emptiness
Inside
Where joy came to
Visit for a little
While
But Soon
Left as
Is the
Familiar call
to
All good things in my life
that dont
Last

Steam Engine

Sloe
Locomotion

On this frosted
Christmas
Mourn

Cold
Fresh
&
Sharp

Snow flakes drift in the
Brezze
Like notes falling Melodiously
From an
Angels Harp

While all the while dancing in reflection
on the rays from the fairylights
That Highlight
This Streetlight
From
The veil of this Dark
Night


Billowing Clouds
of Steam
Rise
Like a
Phoenix

And Black sweat and Monoxide
Gas
Whip up
A cyclone
Above the
Rooftops

Like a Festive Fire
Has Engulffed
All of this
And
Yellow Windows
And
Steel Clang
On the Tracks

And the Mourning
Braes in this
Red Dawn
Of
Noel

With
it's
Coca Cola Cheer

Coal for Christmas
Again

Is fuel
For the Engines
Fire

And A change of Platforms
And Direction
At the Next Stop

I sit here on then
Train

And
Grieve the Woes
Of the journey
And

My Mistakes
Along
The
Way


Stairway to Starbucks

It Shines and Glimmers
Reflecting in its
Metallic
Hue
\
of

Advertising
and
The soft glow
Of the
Turkish Jewelers

And transports me Upwards
Towards the Heavens

The Labour Lust
Of
Convenience

And the mouse
Wheel
Spins
And all i can
Do
Is Jump
Aboard
This
Steel Griddled
Travalator

Conform

And jump
On
Ship

We come
To the
Top
And this
Mourning
Smells
Like
A
Colombian Mountain's
Coffee Grove
And
A
New Dawn

Ive seen
Starbucks
All over the Word

One Day they'll have a
Starbucks on the
Moon

Tuesday 20 December 2011

Me and Black Dog....

Im spending today
On my Own

Just me and Black Dog
In this
Room Alone

For the sun is Mocking
And the Moon's
Silver
Is like a bullet
In this Lonely Wolfs
Heart

And i gave her the
Key
But you cant trust
Anyone
You see
With
The
workings of your
Souls Most important
Parts

And each time shes
Gone
It
Rips
The Sinuews of
My Breaking
Heart

And feels
Like
My souls
Mechanics
Have
lost
The WILL to start

So ill Spend
Today in this room

Alone

Just me and
Black Dog

Drinking Alone :(





Sunday 18 December 2011

Branching Philanderer

People say its not
Big Of Me

To Be into this covert
Polygamy

But like Some
Knob Knotted
Tree

I need all these leaves to
be able to Breath

And to absorbs the nutrients from the Sun
with this tainted Carnal fun
And so with it My Mortal Joy
Does become

Saturday 17 December 2011

A Room A Thousand Years Wide

" He lives these
Years that Ive
Walked blind " cc

And a Thousand doors
he has
Closed
And a thousand
Minds

A Thousand
Lives have
Been
Worn
Through
His eyes

And shapes this room
A Thousand
Years
Wide

A Thousand thoughts
And a Thousand
Parts
Has twisted the grains
Of
My

Tepid
Heart

And whilst a Thousand
Lives
Look
Like
Mine


I have opened more

 Divine Doors
Within

Which
Have given me
Clarity
Behind
All-Seeing Eyes

So come and wonder
In this room
of
Mine

With a thousand doors and no windows

For
There is nothing
More
Great if you have the time

To wonder
In
A
Room

A Thousand years
Wide

Thursday 15 December 2011


Tarquin House

Tarquin House
Stands alone
at the
Back of a
Long
Oxbow Drive

The Turrets Tower
above me
Like a
Medieval Battlement
when i
Arrive

And Ravens and Songbirds
Sit aloft this tower
Admiring the
View of this
Spa town

And i am greeted with tea

" Good morning Ms Hills
Good Morning Pete,

Fine morning for it aint it
Tis a beauty pete now drink your tea"

And so to work..

 I go to grab my tools around by the shed at the side of the house

and witness

Ivy Snake

Up From the Driveway
&
Hedgerows

which seem
To almost suffocate the house into

Submisson

And seem to want
to
Drag it Down

To the Earthly Deeps

But the house takes
Care of its self
And
is not my

Domain

The Garden is where i work
If you would call it such a thing

Its more of a mantra of action
A
Morning Meditatcion
As
i sculpte and form
Hedges and Shrub
Making
Jagged
Lines Smooth
and opening up new views of the
Flora

Like the Brush Strokes
of the Artist
revealing lines and colour and
Form
on
a Canvass
Stretch

There's alot to be said
For
Manual Work

And as i rake
the

Red
&
Brown&

Fading
Green

Flakes
of Autumn

And blow them
Into a fairy like fertility dance
And the classic overture in my brain
Does Start

The Bell
Rings

And im Hungry and Thirsty

My Hands
Are Dirty
Covered
And
Worn

Showing wear

But im
Satisfied

And looking forward to my Beer and smoke
After Work :)


Four hours of
Focus and awesome music
And
Nature
What else is there?

A Bitterness that still remains because of Office Politics and sioBan

The foulest people ive met gained their confidence or identity through office work....there souls are made and will decay in the grey sludge of their 9-5 worker drone twilight of exsistence.......dickheads!!!

Nasal Transportation To the Constellation Memory

My
Hasty
Nose
Sniffs

And Im Teleported
Instantly

Back
Maybe
10 - 12
Years

And im sitting in

Yellow
Class

in a Tangerine Hew

Its 5 minutes
to

3:00

" Going Home Time"

And i'm playing with

Red Crimson Plasticine

Molding with

Dexterous Resolve

And the Smells from this

Amorphous Gloop

Smells
Unique

Ill never forget it!

And
Suddenly

Im back again

12 years Later

I look around
But the smell is

Invisible

Just a
Tiny Offering
Bought on a

Soft Wind

To remind
Me that
I too
Have my own

History

However
Insignificant


Wednesday 14 December 2011

Letters and Dialogue from the Happy Junkie...Ext.1


" When you fall for a drug properly,

I mean
Properly...

Then its for life
right..

Thats the points of being a junkie an outcast your commited despite the odds"

" A true renegade of some sorts, but tainted with a dirty glamour that repulses yet attracts the sweel and release of meager embraces, social networking or just plain human contact you receive. Which saitsfys your soul to a limit being the extent of its nature,

Cos when your a junkie right...... this amounts to their prejudice of the eyes that see and think they know and were shit right in this popular conditioned haze of mind rape called public opinion

Like the poison im my veins at least releases me from the poison of your mediocrity

And a faint gust of worry you bring to me
from the bitter fabric of your flightless wings
And i
remember that we are the parasites right...in this faint gust.
Were out to get you
Jus lOOKING for a HOst
lOOKING for YOU AND YOUR CHILDREN to
Occupy with OUR DEPRAVITY the DEVICE YOU USE and DISPOSE of  TO DEFINE YOUR OWN FLOUDERING sense of RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION AND IDENTITY....cos were the PARASITES right...Whos using who??

And what has my
internal conscious got to do with your
ignorant opinions,

Love the


Happy Junkie
THOSE TGAR

Tuesday 13 December 2011

Paint On the Handlebars

As the drop
Comes

I grab my Brush
And fling

Red
&
Blue
&
Green

On the
Canvass

What seems by accident
Is in fact
Calculated
And the forms
The Music
Make
In My
Mind
Manifest

On

My

Duck
Canvass
Making
Colors Dance
And this Manikins
Move Involuntary


I step back
and
hit
The Shelve
Spilling
the

Red
&
Blue
&
Green

On the floor

I decide
To grab
The
Elswick
And go get more paint

The Brezze in my
Hair
And
the
Spokes
Spin
And clank
On the
Wheels
as i fly down the high street

And brush
my hand
Through
my Hair
and Mustache
Leaving
A red
Reminense

Suddenly

Bang!!!

A Bus
Hits
My Elswick
And
I
Fall to the
Ground

The Station Clock

The
Station Clock

Has seen better days

It
Sees
All Seasons

And is only occupied by the
Foulest of pigeons

And one

Brave Wilde Swallow

And
A

Reclusive Bluebird

Who use it as a
Vantage point
Like a

Sniper

 on
a
Watchtower

Who Dive

Amongst the Daffodils
Below
Like
The
Lufwaffer
on a

Crimson Dawned Air Raid

Devouring
The
Worms
that burrogh holes
on Brown wallowing Mud
Among the

Broken Bricks
Where nature has reclaimed
A
little
Territory

Then they ascend
To the Blue
Amnd the Tranquil Tower

The Monumental Watcher

Vouyeur
Overseer
Of
All of this

With a face and Hands
That informs

But deaf and DUmb

Living an Existence of Measurement

An enterty who's

Soul
Mission

IS the

Vicarious fulfillment Of
Our Efficiency

A Poem For Reggie


Dear Reggie
We are
indeed
a
Kindered Two

Our
Ketamine
Problems

Our Covert Drinking Habits too

Your like a brand new sister

Apart from you didnt pop out my mum

And also cos your wicked and
Dont get
Offended
When
|Im
Jus tryinh to be
Fun

Even better than though
My
Miss

Youve met
Me Good
Mate
Tom

A Bet on a
Magical hand
well placed

And
What fun
well have getting
Stoned
With with A Red Eye
And pale face

So to the future
Reggie

AND OUR
ADVENTURES

Noble
&
True

We'll get so high dear

Reginald

Will
Pass the moths on the way to the sun

And stop for a Spliff
On the
Moon

Dear Reggie what
Intergalactic Fun
Awaits ;) x

Sunday 11 December 2011

Duality - The Sun and The Moon

Once
before
Time

and
Space

The Sun and Moon
Where Lovers

The Sun
Was hotter then than
It is now and burnt anything that came close

Totally immersed in
its will

its
Thanatos
and Energy

The Moon was younger
yet wiser than the Sun

And saw things softly
Bringing reflective light to the darker regions of space
And illuminating those
Who couldnt see

The moon took pity on the SUN
One day

The only way she knew How
And Destroyed him

The Sun at
First with his
Depleted Energy

Howeled
A great Howl
And the stars
And the
Constellation of Lupus
Was Bore

But the Sun
Felt weak
And
LOST
As
Space and Time

Reverted back to
A more primordial
Static fuzz

And the lights went out
on this
Ancient
Time

But slowly an ember
A mellow Hue of illumination
Started to flicker
The light burned
Brighter

And from this
Destruction
A
New
Creation
Was Born

And with a Big Bang

The Earth
The Stars
And Life
Was Born

The Sun and Moon
Now
Occupy
Different
Regions
to Keep Balance

..........................Equilibrium

But they
Still have their purpose
And
As the Sun's Golden Glow reflect
Off the Silvered moon

I feel
Their
Warm embrace
and

Feel
Satisfied and completed in

Mine




The Old Curiosity Shop



This Provincial
Town
 Sits well

The people here are open
And sweet

Like a soft nostalgia
A dream lost from
Times
Long
Gone

When life was simpler

The expiration date on people
Was smaller yet people found
Happiness
in the small
and the
simple

We
Kick up sparks on these
Cobbled
Emerald Mossed Stones
That tap
Below
Us
Keeping in Rhythm with our
Banter
and
Ease

All of a sudden
She
Stops
Whats this
She
Says

The sign
Reads

" The
Old Curiosity
Shop"

She is curious
And i am too

Smitten
Are we in this common ground
Which grew

We finish
Our smokes
And
And twist the remains of the sparks and our cigarettes
Out on the pavement

Turning
the

Cobbled Emerald Mossed stones

A brownish black

We step inside

and

a Black cat crosses our path
and runs out of the shop
and into the road

The door suddenly slams shut
Behind it
 we hear a shriek
And the sound of skidding cars smashing


We turn around un phased
and buy velvet kisses in a box and a pocket watch
and return home
Enlightened

Satellite


Out in the Black
And the
Dark desolate
wastes

Among this colaked night
where we sit and stare up
wondering whats staring back

And what
Sits there
is all the while a
searching
A hermitted
Sentiense
Of
no Mouth
ButEars
And Eyes
To
See
And
Spy
A Circumnavigating
Viciousness

I realsie they can see

"
I maybe paranoid
But that dont mean they arent watching me"

But what are they checking for

A Enemy or a f
Or an Oppurtunity

Saturday 10 December 2011

Aviation Buddha


On the Roof
Of the World

Even higher than
Atlas
Buddha
Sits

And raises
His Sun Glasses
With the Rising
Dew
Which welcomes
the morning
grass and fungus

Casnting a Times Shadow
On a a Sundial
In
Eden


As he
lights his Spliff
And holds communion

Rising it  like  a mornings mirrored reflection
of the sun in a turpentine puddle

His Aviator Glasses
Glisten
And Sparkle
As Concords
Discord
And
All flights
Are cancelled
abroad

And so
Sits
The
Aviation Buddha

Until he takes flight
from his seated pose
 and folded legs becomes wings
and he is launched into the
stratosphere

Navigating
the skies
like some
Old sea
Dog
 Still salted  and foaming from the sea and under the enchanted siren of Claypso
And the beautiful briny deeps

Still
Haggared
Drenched....And On s
Shore Leave
For
A
Brass  and a BREW
in
the
next
port

As the
claret
Of this
spewed
forth town

Rumbles
with the sounds
Of
Jet
Engines

And the Aviation Buddha hass
Arrived home
On the
ROOF OF THE WORLD
Atop
 and over a
mountain crest
Hung and Overhanged
among the peaks and climbs of
Everest

Still sitting
And Waiting
For Enlightement
As
He clutches his

Around The World
Ticket

And transports himself
Through
Conciousness

To the Garden

Nirvana
And the forest Shangri
and delight

But This flight has been
Cancelled
At the
Last Minute

And Buddha
Goes
to
The Executive Lounge
And orders
A whiskey and coke
On the Rocks

But Aviation Buddha
Doesnt
Drink

Its for this
Airstewardess
Beside
him
Still Buzzing and Beautiful
Booyliciously Boneable

And He Hastily
Sparks
Up a joint and once again
Takes to the
Skies


Battle for Apollonian Supremacy amongst the stars of Draco

Bellows
Of
Smoke
And
Fire
Burn up the
Asteroid Belt
Of
Draco

As two
Weathered
Withered
Dragons
Fight
for
Supremacy

And a friendship

Now plays
Out
Like
Some

Childish Pantomine

As
The weaker of the
Dragons
un-be-known
To him
because of his
Arrogance

Succumbs
Predictably
To his
Ego
And Fragility
Of his
Meager
Soul

And all is fair

In

Love and War

On Macbeth's
Cold
Stage

And their is little
But the
War left

And the final
Curtain

Whilst the

Fat Lady
Sings

Her last
Hagged wail

I See your
Mask
And
Ultimately

Your

 Fear

A while among the Daffodils


Some
Time
Seeds are
Sewn
And
Forgotten are the
Fruit that are
Born

Bastard
Wretched
and
Un-nutured

They wait

But whilst
This spirited Gaze
Focuses elsewhere
Sweet Valkyrie

I hear your call
After all this
Time

And see the
The fruits
Of your Labour
as
Time
Passes
by

So to abstain
And to Prove
This
Virtues True

And to make this
Flight i seek
Ascend into
The
Blue

Which
Ends
With me
But has more
Of
You

So this Impatience
I will
Endure
To
Reek
These Soft Moments
When I sleep
Well
And all
Inquisition
Falls silent
And
Meek

I think
of
You
And our

Walks among
The
Daffodils
My sweet

And i feel
Understood
and
Happy

Friday 9 December 2011

A Siren to the People...The Watchers :)


We'll before i met her. their was no poetry but now it has become a bountiful ease....to one and all please heed me call and check out my Muse and also super awesome wicked partmer in crime and sabotage Miss Lambert.....She's got a blog init and got more hits then me in the first hour than i did in the first week....Bitch!!! this biterness is overwhelming and increases my hubris...which is also confusing yet delightful

forgetmenot333@blogspot.com

Massive love to Russia i know you'll heed my call

But all you other icons of wickedness...join her blog click on the adverts

More poems

to
com

But out my mouth or out my bum

Will
Be up to
u

Wednesday 7 December 2011

Mr Magpie

Chuckles and I
Often
Stroll
The Town

Drinking our way
Around the down and outs
All those vagrant lay
Abouts

We know them all
and will not pretend that
despite the dirt and smell
there's people

Under
This
Saddening
Wretched
Trend

Across
A
Calverly
Slipping
And
A
Sipping
We do
go

A Tennants for me
A
StrongBow
For
Yo!

Once we've had enough to drink
Or too

An
Argument
Should
Now Ensue

I
Think
We always kick up an almight
Stink

And we much prefer to
Shout
Than
Think

Then out of your eye
What doth Chuckles
See but a
Gulp
A
Charm
A
Murder
Or Magpies

And you do as you do
And salute
Them Birds
that Fly

And say

" Morning Mr Magpie"

Every time they catch your eye

But now we both Must
Go to see
Our
Wenches

The ones that make us groan
and Cry.

The little deaths
Petits Morts
Our Ladies
Of
Valkyrie
That
Give us sanctuary
From
Our
Parasitic
Lives

So Miss Bombatalie
And Chuckles the "Bum fluff" McStu
I wish the best of luck to
the both of You



Bear Claw

A Warrior Child
Is
Born

With
A Hunters Fire
That Burns
And Screams
in his
Eyes

And shoots

Hot Embers

Out
Onto this
Hallowed
Ground

And the Voices
Of Our Ancestors are
Etched on his Heart
And in the
Sinuews of his Soul

And this Blue Moon
Tonight

Seems to affect the Animals
And Coyotes and Wild Dogs

Maddening
And
Foaming
Listless
And
Roaming
Wonder the Plains
Without
Purpose
Like
Their
Time
Is
Waning
And they
Can't Except
Their
Fate
and
There
Life Decaying
Wild and Mangeing

MOrbid MadAtes March

For
This
Death Paraded

And Howling at the
Palled Azure Lumination
On this
Synodic Night

Because Bear Claw
Has now been
Born

And as the stars shift around
Constellationa
Above us
And
Mark the dawning
of this
New
Aeon
OF Man

Which the
Shamen had
Prophetically

VISIONED

And
Heeded a
Warning to
thos Mighty Braves
With Whom
His
Tribe

That
Bear Claw
Has Arrived
And he is More
Spirit
Than Man

And will Take
A Bears Claw
Before he's
Ten

And When
The Time
IS Right

He will
Leave Fallen Men
And
Severed Scalps
And
This last flicker
Of our
Tribe
Will
Burn Brightly

Then
Will
Die

Neither
Man
Nor
Beast
Nor Machine
Will
Last
And bursts this
Whimsy in my Heart
As i realize this
Spirit
In Me
Too
Which At Last
Has found Some
Purpose
True

 But
A Wild Heart with
Those Wild Words
Will Not always
Be by likened
and rarley give the time

To be spoken or heared
For many say this is no man

But a suckiling Bear
Cub
But Mostly
Peter Pan

But to one and all
please ignore my

Vitriolic Voiced Rhythms

And instead hear
the beauty of
An
Apache Bluebirds

Internal
Schisms

So called Legal Laws...

They should not call legal laws "Laws" because they can be changed unlike the laws of physics which are absolute and until then are considered theories.

Therefore they should call them "Legal Rules" the reason they don't do this is to try to give their small-minded molly coddling ideas undue credibility...Being specific the current Marijuana Legislation which is not only hypocritical but antiquated and should be changed, because rules can be changed and what legality tries to pull over our eyes with this choice of wording is that they cant and they can my spliff smoking buddies.

CLICK ON THE ADVERTS THEN I CAN PICK UP ;)

A Poem For Christmas Time But Not For Children

Scary Fairy (A Poem For Victoria T)


Come One
Come All

And i'll
Tell you
This Tale

The Mood is just
Right

And Victoria
Has Bought Over More
Ale

The Tale
I
Tell
Is not to be told
To the
Easily scared
Or
Wary

Its about an

EVIL SLUTY XMAS FAIRY

The Fairy was
Short
And drunk
Of
Sorts

Cursing
And a
Cussing
Dear
Old Saint Nick

And letting us privy
in dizzying detail

To the proportions
And failings
of his
Dick

For
Underneath his
Red Suit
Lays a coat like
That
Of a polar Bear
And looks quite
Lairy

But this
Evil Slutty Xmas Fairy
Likes
Em'Hairy

And unlike the
Easter Bunny
is not
Quite so
Contrary

So went on
This
Evil Slutty Xmas Fairy


" Sex
With
Old St Nick
Was not much fun

The chubby cock muncher
Didn't even
make
Me cum

And instead
sneaked a finger up my
bum
Then left without a word
And stole my Rum

Old St Nick
Came into
The
Room

Bold
&
Proud

And went to
See what was happening
With this
Gathering thickening
Crowd

At once
The
Evil Fairy
Saw St Nick
She went for
Him
Sinking
Her Teeth
Into
His
Dick

So
Poor Old St Nick
Cried a Pain
That
Sings

And Now
Wears
His Testicles
Like
Festive
Earrings


Monday 5 December 2011

Albatross


Im lost at sea
in this
Little wooden boat

Waves crash about this tiny broken up
vessel and ten years
Of such
wave worned woes
begin to make
Bows Creak
And holes appear
And i pray for this deck below me
Not to Crack

And for the last 3 weeks there has been
no rudder
At the
Back

And i would like to take alot
Of what i have said
and
done
Back

And my shell
like my
hull
now lies on the seabed
floor
As
i am taken into those ghosly depths
And
drown
Forever more

And whilst my soul
In  this inbetween place
In A world called
Limbo
So
Impatiently
waits

And suddenly
i see my savings
Grace
Out
of this
Blue
An
angels
smiling
face

And
My destiny
IS set
And off i take

i rise from the waves
And out of this swash

I have been transformed
And turned into
An Albatross

With these massive
Wings which serve
me true
im now soaring
Above a sea
That had my life
And my youth

My Mariner
years
when i was troubled
and lost at sea
are now behind
me and i am free

And now a great purpose
does find me

For These Wings you see
Will lift not just
me alone
But i will lift
You
Too
&
We'll
have no excuse
to
be
so alone

For what awaits
in futures
untold
wont be revealed
Until
The flower is grown and
The seeds
Are
Sewn

And for now we shall
fly amongst
Canvass clouds
And
Paper zepherplanes
And
take
Pictures of the sun

Because there is a place
where we both
Can
Go

And i really cant
do
this on my own

And with
open
Ears
and
a gentle
Heart

I will
do my best
To understand
what you say
And will leave my
ego at
Home
today

And also to
Will
take you swiftly
by
the
Hand

And together
We'll Cross
These
Sinking
Sands


The Tourist (Burma; An Irrawaddy cruise)

We descended upon the Bay


A faceless affluent swarm
of riches and tailored fineries

A hideous army of
decadence

Morphing like a
Thickening
Pestilence
On the Shore
We negotiate
the slight incline
Like A dumbfounded
Faune

The Children seemed
indifferent
And untroubled
by this shamless
Cumbersome
Cyclopses

As they approach
Grading
The momental Panorama

And Embracing
The locals
Like
Meat-Inspectors
To
Their
Stringed Cadavars

In a torrent of flashes
And startled looks
These hideous
One eyed demons
Lower their implements
And finally show a slight
glimpse
of their Humanity
As for the first time their
Eyes
Meet

Their Coyness
is consuming
Like their palid complexions

The people we witnessed
On that day on
The
Irrawaday

And captured for eterity
on our devilish devices

Are the last of a dying
Breed

A time capsule
Of more
Simplistic
and
Virtuous
Times

Where Agenda
Was a
floccinaucinihilipilification

And those sweet saccarine
siamese dreams where no complication
And Live on at least in tiny pockets for now

Sunday 4 December 2011

Zombie Duck (*A Poem for Kimbers)


I sit beside this Lakeside
Awaiting

Waiting
And
A
Watching
Hoping my line's still
Baited

With
Baited breath
As i hope is true
that this sole lure
Laid in wait  below

Still stands out against this
murksih
greenish
blue


The float does twitch in
these currents that swirl

And  how the swans
graceful knape does bow

And how The brezze skims leaves across
the waters top

And acorns from the oagaling oak above me drop

For these
false movements
on my float
Will make this rollie
IMPOSSIBLE
to role and
Smoke

And is this a curse from those fishes

Profain

and would choose
to tease me with their
Cunning games

And some times  i wish for them to share
My pain
And  for this lake to be filled up by
acid rains

the float
ducks out
out of sight
and as
instantly
dark green and blackened clowds
gather over head
As if the beginnings of a

Ferocious
Storm

Like some
Menacing Omen
of an Malolvolent threat

Like the devil is angry that he's lost
another bet

These clouds roll over each other like
Hair corns
Or bystanders escaping a massacre
The ambience has changed
and a chill sets in and makes frosted pins stick
into my skin

Like a sprinting of emotion
that flushes my spine
And whilst my stomach which
Grumbles and sit famished and baron inside

and i accept someithng
untoward is a foot
In just a short passing of
Time

A
Gaggle of Geese
Jump
In  at the other side of the lake
Underneath a pine

Now know no doubt

By the bread
That is floating
Around my baited
Line

I know this is going to be difficult
I really dont want to hook a goose

He'll probably knock
Me out with his

Wings

Whilst
Im
Trying
To
Set Him
Loose


Also in the back of mind a nagging
all my mental fibres are a tagging

For i know of a story true of this lake
before me so frightfully strewn

That once upon a time
The Lake was awash with

Friendly Ducks

But now just one remains

The locals call him

Canine
Canard
Mc Duck


He hasnt been seen
For years
And im not sure if
The stories are true
But if they are he
Would
Be
62

Maybe so these yarns
Were sewn with realities true

But im sure he musth have
Died and this is why
This lake to fish i choose

For it seclusion and
unfished aquatic bounty
replete

But for coming here now i do feel like a
complete tite

I do however remeber a well known fact about this
Lake which makes this icy chill
While ive been a fishing here
Slightley sedated on

Valium Pills

But only once and not yet before
Ive heared a person say that the people arent ment to fish here
even on the sunniest of days

Cos It sits on what was once a

Nuclear Power plant  Facility

And each new born borne
Around here since has been
Disabled from
Infancy

The
Power plant
Exploded
And  what waste it forth spewed

This
Luminous vitriol
And uranium
That sweeps into GAIA's  stocking
And she werent best amused
And her wraith

Has
Now
Come,

Has now come
A knocking

This violation to a lady
of such divine

Will makes tears of blood
Fall From innocence eyes

And is not only an insult  to nature but a
Incendiary act
And Gaia will now work by
Ancient laws which
Ancient sooths did say

That a violation of nature will cause a change in
Births that will take decades to change
And that which mutates and morphs
Under this duress
 Turns Nefaratu's gaze
And warms
Hes

Smiling jest

As he realises he's all the more not alone
As he maraudes and maintains
The depths of hell
Below

And for this atrocity
The monster that dwells wihtin this lake
Still waits in his cronie cragge

And looks up at the other ducks
With salivating monstorous jaws
That lag

With a maddening blood lust
and thought s that  imangination's
scream
a sensitivity  i discover more
fragile than these autumnal
Falling leaves

Then is see  Kimberly and she
has a flask she has bought for
Me

And inside the finest columbian coffe and
Brandy mix

and still hot
And will staisfy my fix

Oh what beauty and
Generosity abounds her qualities
True

I look so dearly now
But
she's running fast
and gaining speed

A look of worry upon my face
I do hope my warnings she
Will
Take
Heed

But then she slips and falls on that sweet face
On those wretched slipping leaves
Were to blame for
Misfortunes
Mistake

Then in these breif moment these eyes look out to the lake
and before i see a carnivourous deathly wake

4
Dead swans

Float on these waters disrupted

And I think the
Queen will be devastated

And
Her Butler
Disgusted

But then i see

Carnard

Himself
Twice the size of an average duck
and with fercious jaws that gnash
And covered in blood and feathered
Muck

And i swear he's sporting a

Hitler's
Tash

And some ungoddly appendage
Which hangs and glows before his mouth

And sprakles like the lures in my fishing box
And i decide i want out

He has a

Third eye

And looks at me with puropse
And poise

I dare note hold this menacing gaze
im far to Koi

Then Kimberely shouts

" Well help me up then...Ive bought you coffee
    Dear honey
   And your more interested in fishing
   this is typical of you,
   This is almost as selfish as not paying
   me back that money....."

For selfishness and fishing
walk hand in hand

And with this sentiment
many a women has
lost her
man

I look out to the lake
and it has returned to the tranquil lake i saw earlier
My eyes suddenly
Red and weakening

Do turn to
the
Burning
Intent
In those eyes of hers

I mean its true ive seen that look
but once before
And liked it then far much more

But i Turn to Kimbers
And i do say

" Sorry lovely i saw a Zombie Duck and it killed 4 Swans
but they disappeaed this is just my luck, where have they gone???

And Kimberley came beside me
to this riverside

And she sits down
a
all knowing
patorising
sort of a sitting

she picks up my
splifff
that i once kept close
to these lips

To my face she doth
Stare ond solomnly say

"You IDIOT peter your stoned again"

Iidanach - a Tale of Lugh and the Battle of Moytura



From the isalnd
where snakes
dare
Not slither

An emerald
Isle
where music is traded

and Giants stamp
Along Causways
despite this Gale
And
Eyre Weather

The giant
Sneezzes
And
Puts
out

The Fires
left
at
Beacons
Lit for
The
Fisherman
To
Warn them off the
Jagged
Rocks
Below


A baby was bore on this
rain soaked night

Son of Kian
And father of Cuchulain

The son for protections
game

But will be bought up by his uncle

GOBAN the SMITH

&

DUACH
KING OF FAIRYLAND

As a child
Of nearly

TEN

Lugh

He picked up a picture of
a lion

And handed it to Goban

And said
with profain
and conviction true

Thats a picture
of me

Dear uncle
The druid in my
dreams
tells
me
i
have work
To do

And
On  a futures day to come


Balor

I will slain

And my Grandfathers death
will my vengance came

And my fathers name
Once will be reclaimed
For me i  will be proud
And my familys
Name
Once again
i Will
Cliam

I will
I
This
prophecy
Forcasted if true

That  these
Wild
Words
Were
Not
Spoken in Vain

And the Formorians
black baited blood
and
forsaken Souls
With the  movments
of my
sword
will
Drain



Down in the cells of
The castle or Cuchlain
Formorians
Evil
Three

Those that
Slain  his father
Dweeled
in blooodied manackles
and rusted shackles
Half dead and gasping for water  like
a fish in the open air

For these cunning three
did mange to kill my father
And sullied our family name

So on clemency's quest
They shall go
&
For me
Go and Claim

And maybe
When they
Return or if
The dont
I will kill them
all the same

The first was Seamus OMcferrity

For you do swear
an oath this day

to
obtain the magical spear
From the King of

Persia

And on your return to my castle
i will
Bid you a pardon
for crimes you have commited
Which killed my  beloved
Father

And an estate and title
Will be your reward
On return
And any cunny
geanted by
you desire
willl
be yours
To claim

and you can make
that wench
do
what
you like
to clean your floors or suck your
Wanting willed vein

The Second was Paddy Mcglauchlin McStu
and again

Lugh did speak those words again

For you do swear
An oath this day

To Greece you shall ride
and the Grecian Kings
Healing
Pigs skin
Cloak you shall find

You shall take
it from him

And never will your king
Be fated by maladies
or injuries
Again

And an estate and title
Will be your reward
On return
And any cunny
granted by
you desire
willl
be yours
To claim

and you can make
that wench
do
what
you like
to clean your floors or suck your
Wanting willed vein

The third was seamus fitzpatrick
You the king said will
complete
my Hatrick

For you  to albion must
Trek
And on your way Havoc you must
Wreck

For you seamus are the most cunning
of this rabble
And for this
Reason

Babble
For with your words of melifluous verse
i want you to woe Guiniverre

and bring her back for me in
FOr her cunny you shall take
drink

But never for a moment your
Manhood
Should
Sink

For if you my man
Do stray from what
i
Say
i will remove your willed vigour
And also your
eyes
&
Hands

And on your return to my castle
i will
Bid you a pardon
for crimes you have commited
Which killed my
And an estate and title
Will be your reward
And any cunny
you desire
willl
be yours
and you can make
that wench
do
what
you like
like clean your floors

With these magical wonders
In towe

To the battle of Moytoura
The Formorians
Were
Slain

And a hurtled stone
from a unknown hand

Did furfill
The druic prophecy
In the all
fairs
Game

The stone it flew
through
the air
without
A
wish without
a care

And pierced the eye
of Balor
oblitterating his
Brain

In this victory
of light
over dark

And this win for intellect
over brute force and the devils
Mark

Lugh has now
Deserved his name
And an apololian  warriors
respect he has gained
Because
Now this boy has turned
into a
Man

And shall be known
As
Iidanach








Dont spend a Penny ON the water when you can take a piss in the sink for Free.



For Tom thanks for putting me up these drunken nights;

The wise Geordie Sage                                                                .
sits before                                                                                      .
Me .
.
And has .
Taken tales from life .
on his journey

More than
mere men
&
Most men more
Mad than mere

He sits there with these
Words disrupting the smoke that
bellows from our
mouths

and no
room for
Mine
are
required in these
moments
i sit
listen and take
mental notes

But thats the way he
likes it
And im his
Guest

The aged life worn
torment and scars on his face
and body all have a tale

But
He still remains

Still
Effortless
And
Sleek

His
Stories tell me more than most
speak to me more than my own
troublesabout myself
but they're not mine

IS this truly wisdom
IS this Truth
I thought there was no
Truth

But maybe non
that eventually
get replaced
in time and becomes
paraphrased
Or
Subceeded
in these persuasive lines

I have to grab
Pen and pad

Mesmereside but
Also
inspired

as if he
was channeling
something
through
me

Some emotion that
Counjured

Visions of semiotics
and
Landscapes of metaphor and simily

and
word-play and mischeve
abound these

hurried
scribbles

scripting symbols
signs
seem solitary


these efforts
under took
and to

sustain this
storming of language

And i take two hands to my pen  trying to
hold on as it drags me across
the page

and then i hit a full stop and
dropped my
Pen

Tom
this Legend
OF men

This Citizen of the
World

DOTH SPEAK THESE WORDS OF WISDOM FORTH
AND LAY SEEDS IN MY HEAD

With
A Geordie Discourse;


" Piss in the Sink
My dear
World Weary friend

Forget the women

And your woes
But heed this advice

Piss in the sink
My dear friend
But onyl at night
time

It will save you
Money
And
If your on the top floor such
As i

A neighbours good night
Sleep might give you
clemency with
your
parties
at
night

Apathy Box


My television
Vegetates

And fuzzes wuth static
And Radiation

I
sit
And  watch
whilst
Mediocrity
flounders

Strung upon a high wire
With  Disopsable -Instant-Fame
at one
End

And the dissatisfied

sea of souls
blistering and toxic
And awaiting them
Below

A monstorous sea
of Pacific
Porpotions

Whilst times momental Conditions
Force
false idols, niavety and lolitan innocence

Swirls and diffuse

Whulst warping
suggestive minds

The masses make up this molten mess
&
I look down
at them drowning
And see the people in the gallery
above
Laughing at
there demise

They've bought they're
Tickets i suppose

Morbid curiosity
a mortal vice
and a question of morality
is raised

As such a fragile innocence
So mercilessly is decemated
and thlung to these
Monstorous Lions
And those
Hideous
Masks
they wear

Like Some Venetian  Hell
With
Nosferatu
And his dizzing masqureade ball
filled with gargoyles
shenna nugigs
and creatures from
foul reaches
of the
deepest
darkest
depts
of
the imagination

I change the Channel

And
My inner concious
With it changes

And all the while this universal
remote does sit on my hang
a glimmering
a

Sparkle

a twitch

IS this merely a remote
Control

Or has it changed
the frequency of my soul

At once it think of only
One
  thing

And porn
And the X channel
In this battle  of choice assured
it must
Win

But deep with
And without
My consent

Something esle occurs
and those feelings just went

And i start squeezing the remote
And smash it wit a  mighty hurl

Killing my
stalking cat
&
Also
Kate and my neighbours
New born Girl

once i now know what to do
Right now
i know this
endeavours
virtue
True

I pick up the apathy Box in my room
And through it out of sight

OUt of my window
The tv wass promtly flung and what
was to come was a delight

But below this window
Stood
mass-murders and fascists

discussing;

Blood money
Murder
And raping
Children

Nothing But the devilish Rothschild
And George W Bush's
smircking
non
working

Idiot
War Mongering
SOn

Because an allegence through
Death have those been working

And Womne and Children
Will be the ones that dieing
And those that lifes are lost to debt
or the temptings of the soul or a lifes regret
becausefinally we come to the end
Of this tale but with more stories

my life i fear my actions may betrayl
so for now i wont be so open to you
And willbe but a different

Which you
Wont
See
Through ;)

For delighted so at these
reptilian deaths
I do
Also know
That my fate i
Bequeth