Suki Spangles

There's No Reason For Ian Beale

2012-01-14T09:24:00.002Z

Ian Beale
Slightly unreal
There's no rhyme to reason Ian Beale

Ian Beale
Beals On Wheels
There's really no reason for Ian Beale

What a pallavar
Ian Beale
There's no reason for Ian Beale
In a cardigan or in a pallavar
There's no reason for Ian Beale

Hare Rama Hare Krishna
Ian Beale Ian Beale
There's no reason for Ian Beale
Hare Hare
Not Ian Ian
There's the only reason for Ian Beale
In a cardigan or in a pallavar
There's no reason for Ian Beale

Pop Doggerel 2012

2012-01-04T22:29:00.000Z

oh
another new years's resolution over
the newer compromises keep mum
rupurt murdoch is now on twitter
olympic gamblers train for their marathon run
and there won't be snow in africa next christmas
which is just as well
then their crops really will be fucked
and the euro sceptics hubris will shine like syria
and coldplay are number one
it's 2012 and war with iraq is over
and another cold war with iran has just begun..

the shimmering - the origin of Dream

2011-12-04T03:11:00.013Z

shimmering glitterball moonlight
crimson ribbon neon archangels' wings flutter their radiance

oud dew fragrance

inflamed chariot lovers kiss
immortal time-sand

the swooning heat vibrates

floating corner cosmos
the dilated eyes pluck out the cherry starlight
the whispering sirens anciently whisper venus breath over wing mirrors

ghostly murmuring hwwhoowhaashaaahaa

lamp lit assignation

nod or turn away
fleeting memories to savour -
the wallow of gulf stream nightingales

infatuation fleeting -

the choir aaaaaaoooowwwwaaaa

aaaaaoooowwwwaaaawhhhll

aaaaaaoooowwwwaaauu

nnnnnnhhhahahaaall
magenta as the marshalled deadly romance
dark blue as tomorrow's stairway down -

the splasher teardrops -

the inflamed sonnets porcelain

but for tonight the moth dance trips the dark fantastic
night lode night
the pure night squeeze dropship-dripping manna

the phantom echoes valley

valley echoes phantom

depth-charge transcendence

the snowflakes angel
everything falling in with you

envelop all distance
the goddess pulsation: spiral arms in her hands -
cosmic branches raising starforests -
the controller of everything
the petalled lunar eclipse cleanses the concrete waterways
peeling back the waves weaved from pulverised broken silk -
for even in england there's the lotus and the lamb

save the memory

publish later

the spirit of the dawn patrol will deal dimmering-of-night blows
but night will always away! for always this

the big bang blacked in silvery blaze

still rippling

the origin of Dream

He Needs To Scratch His Nuts, But He's On The Escalator, So There's No Way He Can Do It Now

2011-11-30T13:30:00.006Z

There's no polite way of saying this:
He needs to scratch his nuts,

But he's trapped on the escalators,
So there's no way he can do it now..

It's one of those really long escalators,
And there's a beautiful woman two steps above him looking down -
Well it would be, wouldn't it?
So there's just no way he can scratch his nuts now..

The itch is on the right-side of his right one.

Driving him to insanity,
Brain-quake silent monk profanity.
Oh the inhumanity of such dead beat urbanity.
Why do gorgeous women always appear when you really don't want them to?

How can I vanish the itch on my right-side baby pomegranate?
I need to banish it with sandpaper and granite!
Why is this escalator so slow?
Maybe as many as fifty more seconds more to go..no..no, no.

Now my itch is morphing into an alien lobster -
Travelling up and tickling my knobster:
It's a fucking imposter!
I need to scatch my nuts. Now!

Forty seconds longer to go.
Forty more seconds of extreme toasted right conker,
And it's driving me fucking bonkers..
She's still looking down:
I'm a woebegoner;
I need to get hands-on the crab-nabbed doner..

Old Macdonald had an itchy doner
ow ow ow ow oh
And he needed an itch grater on the escalator
ow ow ow ow oh..

Ten more seconds to go.. oh oh oh..
Nine,
Eight,
Seven,
Six,
Five
and
a
half..

Five..
Nearly there..
Three,
Four,
I forgot four..
Two..
I mean three..
One!
No two,
One!
Half!
A quarter!
Zero!!

Just walk a few metres,
And past the turnstile,
And..

The itch...
It's - gone?!
The cheeky bastard!
It's done one - it's gone!

How dare it do that?
Itch: Come back here right now!
Come back!

Auto Sphinx

2011-11-24T09:03:00.005Z

The scent, soggy,
The breath, moggy;
The chicken wing lamb,
On this train again.

Sits nothing like Buddha,
Legs splay Lynx spray gargoyle sutra.

Gnarl, gnarl, gnarl..

Masticating machete swiller,
Swooler:
The factory farm chemicals - with added poultry for seasoning,
Discover another toxic waste toothpaste dump to unspool into.
A decaying Sphinx.
A beached whale waiting to happen.
Poor kid -
A kite to blow away.
The lighthouse a night shade.

Haiku

2011-11-21T02:42:00.003Z

for blue icey cold
her cherry cheeks radiate
flush of love blossoms

Pilate Eyelet

2011-11-17T16:23:00.004Z

What would Jesus do?

Cooed the camper,

What would the Romans do?

Lassoed the banker.

Eternal Flame

2011-11-14T08:35:00.003Z

Love dissolves -

Indifference carries away the torch

Chatroom Debate Snapshot

2011-11-13T13:02:00.005Z

So should we continue to give aid to the starving?

Dave Z says:

Don't get me wrong,

Starvation is sad,

But feeding the over-breeding so and so's,

It's just political correctness gone mad..

Veronica says:

It breaks my heart to see starving children

How can people be so cruel

We need to start believing we are related to one an other

We should learn to big love

I love everyone

Now let me introduce myself to you

- My name is veronica

I love sucking cock - if you're rich

Why not meet with me

On fuckmeifyoureamillionairedotcom

fuckmeifyoureamillionairedotcom has thousands of girls like me

we'r european and oft he high est quality

we fuck like your rabbits like fuck

fuckmeifyoureamillionairedotcom -

Now lets help with all these starving children not very nice

Mickey says:

Express Check-Out

2011-11-12T09:12:00.005Z

the culture of the few

rarely impress

with less than five items

Cascading It Down To Teamzero

2011-10-21T18:06:00.002+01:00

So on she floated on gears of again
Spirit Guiding upside-down her dream-catchers lobbing asteroids..
..and our senior manager has just been promoted to HR..

We perked up blank on that

Our corrective milling scrum in unibrow raising zing-nills UberMind
Cute and in tempo and Ego neo-spiritualized

HimalayanWe-aura ascending
Our Teamzero collective armour kerchinging
SoulConsciousnessYetis We-of-Us

Anya trilled
Senior manager?

We..we've ne-ver had a senior manager..
In organic tofu silence its sinews slaying octopusly

Like blame-charades during another Valentine anniversary dinner

Uncertain her face net-curtained the mini earthquake
As EQ mystic bingo equations deliquesced

She gurgled a name mooning her eyelash-Stone-Henges all Princess Diana mooey

Eric?

Don't you remember when he came down to meet you all to say hello? ?
Again the hello key rising in Questionstatement Australian Soap Star Jazz Scale 4/4tm
Or like Delirium's grim angel paramedic-hello hello? hello? can you try to squeeze my hand?
The monitored casualty's thimble-sipping concave breath-streams brain-ashtraying below

Definitely so..

No..

..not dead -

Yet but you know..no promises

All beautifically dribbled up and ready to fry in the next shocking episode of

Dentists

..so join us again same time tomorrow - minus twenty-five minutes or so - for the corpsing of Dennis's death-bed-confessional..

DoNGDoNGdONgDoNG

And
Welcome to the same time tomorrow
So now it's..
Dentists (!)

..so I stole lucy's guinea pig? i was so angry

she should never have done that to Me

how dare she..she build that blasted brick wall right outside our pond?
is it any wonder our goldfish were so confused like that..?..
..like they could hardly breathe?
you saw them choking? right? gran?
that's why they all had anaemia before they croaked? their lack of oxygen mentalled-out their brainstems..
aauuaauhgran gran toby..i...i... can feel myself going? like? very dead again..?
oahh denny no.!!
..ii..iit's too late..gran toby..gran tobyy..??

Den-tists..everyone needs good den-tists..

Everyone needs den-tists..even if you all have teeth

Den-tists..everyone needs good den-tists

.They. Could. Be. You. Or. Meee..

Yeah said Bob like you say he came by and said hello
But he never said why he said hello
It was just hello as in hello
Not
Hi I'm saying hello because I'm your senior manager here is my face for you to drillerkilldartboard
Her fish eyes dilated like origami belisha beacons slighting yellow snow

Then she recovered her composure eleven-tenths nubile conflict managemently

Anyway
He's popping by later just to say..uh..

Haha..Goodbye..

Can you believe..?

Goodbye or
I'm saying goodbye as in
Hello-I-was-your-senior-manager-goodbye?
She baffled her eyelashes

So who's our senior manager now?
Felix. He'll send us a message

..Message?..Send??
He's less face-to-face than Eric?
He's really hot on not face-to-facing himself?
Her eyes drifted towards an out-of-place fire extinguisher musing it like a tarot card
..and fire extinguishers should not prop open fire doors not even in the event of a real fire let alone a simulated one..uh..

Then shrugging her triangulating shoulders

Different senior managers have different styles..?
We'll adjust
One of us stated

Closure

She salt-planed her saline smile

The Barren Spring

2011-10-02T16:10:00.000+01:00

The off-licences smash-grab-trashed by lads on-the-lash;
The trainers google-map-flagged by flash-mob-Olympians dancing-the-dash;
The electronics stores ping-hash-tagged, uploaded, cache-cashed;
The neighbours' cars stone-smack-bashed, gutted - or stashed and moustached;
The newsagents papier-mache-mashed into sachets of ash;
The takeaways tandoori'd, soupcon'd and charcoal grilled with pyrotechnical panache..

And no -

No one wanted papadums with that..

The clothing arcades hosted giveaway-and-getaway negligees down alleyways;
The chemists' sprayed bouquets of Michael Faraday's more laissez faire protegees;
The baby stores pitched tearaway mum scrums,
Supplementing their love-handle ass-cracking bingo-wing oven buns,
Gravity rippling burning Rome lite relay-marathons,
Husain Bolting the chiffon,
Manning the futons,
Sending encrypted smiley emoticons,
Up and down,
Up and down,
Up and down,

Hitting home-run home runs,

As on-call baby dads GPS riot app'd,

Flooring time like neutrinos,
Tearing up the dual carriageway,

Giggling fiddling Nero's..

Yeah, it was ok;

It was all child's play..

And the Arabs who couldn't be blamed for this, rejoiced,

Hey hey..

And,
After the fire,
As volunteers vacuumed on tv with bling-brooms,
And brickbatologists cling-fumed in chatroooms,
A photographer, disbelieving, swung-zoomed on a strange bloom:
For there, through the smoke, through the clearing,
That spurned wallflower loomed:
Another book shop -
Perfectly unconsumed.

Speculation

2011-09-26T08:58:00.003+01:00

After everything is gone -

Should the speculators speculate on Love -

Would their God become our slave?

Rain And Umbrellas

2011-09-23T09:33:00.005+01:00

Snake flowing floes of waterborne umbrella skins,

Beat to the rainfall teeming her tabla thumbs.

Cloud strewn streets dehumdrumed drum.

Aeons flash by caterpillar,

Cleopatra - thanks for dinner;

Mashed potato, balloons and mango,

A dreamy trifle,

An eyelash tango.

Treetops wobble,

A rain splash down,

A glimmer full of sky gleams,

The clotted cream crown.

The sunset echo abloom;

Rippling puddly platters,

Reflect a sparkling dusk-light,

On the dappled marching dragons.

Slave To The Upgrade

2011-09-17T19:46:00.005+01:00

As I turn the parchment of my electronic book -

A sensual glade,

Of scentless plastic..

The Stark Blossom

2011-09-14T00:22:00.005+01:00

Her love lost,
She slips away,
Silhouettes gleam moon shadow.

Blue eyes burn broken;
She leans her head back against the wall ~
Turns around,
As lunar trees rustle the cover for her delicate steal-away.

A last look back.
His bed now..
His bed now..
In-breath, deep, deep, shallow.

In-breath, shallow.
Places keys,
Resting, date-stamped,
On the newspaper in the hall.
Turn the page.

Enfolding cruel lament:
Let me out of this place.. -
Sold.
Orchestral manoeuvres in the dark.
Let me out of this place;
Just open the door,
And walk the corridor,
And down these stairs..

And the outside lights of the dark unveil,
The stark blossom,
The unnatural world.
The traffic milling swashing rain revives her.
She weeps a lonely relief.
And she glows,
Like a frozen rose,
Thawing under the sunlight of the moon.
Her reflection warms the oblong aspects of glass and steel;
The cold statues ignite in flames.

Ten

2011-09-11T00:35:00.000+01:00

So Happy Anniversary to you,

War On Terror,

For you are ten-years-old today!

And what special events are you planning to surprise us with,

On this auspicious occasion?

Think -

Soon you will be a teenager,

(God help us).

Please,

Wouldn't you like to swap this football in return for our souls?

They were only meant to be borrowed for a little while you know.

We miss them,

And we'd like you to return them back to us please,

Kinder, gentler..

No, not in that way.

And,

Please,

Never, again.

Okay?

Polite Notice Blues

2011-09-06T22:48:00.002+01:00

The low-level absurdity of quantum thoughtlessness,
Luridly displayed,
At the tea-point

Polite Notice:
Do not leave your dirty dishes or used cutlery in the sink.

(Another) Polite Notice:
To avoid blockages,
And flooding,
Please rinse your dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.
ThankhyphenYou.

And here she comes,
The senior manager,
Gifting the floor (four) her honeysuckle bloated cadaver infusions,
Organic;
Her muesli dregs gluey,
Satanic;
Bathing with toxic used tissues,
Bubonic;
She catches my silent musing leakage harmonics:
"Something wrong?"
And my hyperbolic bottles it,
Something chronic.

Green On Red-Eye

2011-08-30T16:39:00.003+01:00

The expanding desert flows below,

The eco-tourist mirage..

Cracked Symbols

2011-08-18T12:38:00.023+01:00

the cracked string-bead spaghetti throng swirls bedazzled
bedraggled and comically wretched
a mournful shimmer around cartoon candles
huddling in the gloaming gloom
unragged and healthy
the hum of the crayon-prayer-faithful numb

their pagan-bling makeshift memorial
an installation art totem
as delicate as graffiti sold on the shopping channel
bottles of vodka nestle with silver spoons and opened cartons of cigarettes
and suffocating garage forecourt flowers clinging for dear life
inside their unopened cling-film shallow grave
attached felt tip fly-tipped post-it-sentiments
words you are so mist
words YOU'RE NOT DEAD YOU'RE A STAR!!
words xxx Luv Lucy
words we mourn your loss 4u etc

from across the road she circles her own mind for a clue to theirs
as this dead girl sings of rehab from a tinny mobile phone speaker
rendering her soundwaves disembodied
her sonic angel feathers crash land a last bow r.i.p cashback
as Rapunzul's saturn return death dances
into her vaporised tower of ringtone sorrow

bemused walking away she muses
- oh the irony
they're offering up as symbols of devotion the very paraphernalia that killed her
- what a way to go and what a way to be remembered

then she makes the sign
as she nervously touches her pendant
of the cross

Keyboard Commando

2011-08-08T18:32:00.003+01:00

He draws the fine line between hate and hate -

He's a keyboard commando.

Swirling eyes catheterise incontinent flamer rage -

She's a keyboard commando.

The spurned saturnine misanthropes,

The atheist/God brigades,

The grandad rock fascismos man

their onanist hive-brained barricades.

The CAPS LOCK attack-dogzillas,

The green crayon font glocalistas.

They're all keyboard commandos.

The zoilist cannibal synthesis;

The psycho-stalker metamorphosis.

Take half an ounce of thought,

A nanosecond of self-reflection,

A quark of empathy,

A sliver of good intention,

A tonne of self-righteousness,

A big ol' tent of me and me -

The bravado swamp thrills,

Rabid gazelles on kill,

Shelling from the craven caves of anonymity.

It's Munch's Scream upstreaming in the polyglot ergot

of keyboard commandos.

Lying poet songsmiths:

So we're really all the same?

Oh yes -

We're churning in one big boiling cauldron world -

A world of keyboard commandos.

Snooze Button

2011-08-01T10:32:00.003+01:00

Seconds before I must fall back awake,

To drizzling dreaminess uneasily I sling-shot

my flimsy detaching spiral.

The Snooze Button - a praying mantis.

And I cannot shake away its silent countdown,

The temp-deafened digital laughter.

My eyes - as sore as Romeo's;

A salted ochre sea star Guanatanamo.

And, in dream, the snooze button pounces,

Like The News At Ten:

Yodel-dong:

"Tonight: The World's End.."

Dong.

"Golf"

Dong.

"No more weather - ever"

Dong.

Snooze button,

You gift me only lucid, anxious nightmares;

Your sonic rainbow rays pour

primary colours liquid concrete grey,

Coal, charcoal, ash,

Municipal car park green,

Institutional padded cell cream,

And asbestos marine.

Snooze button,

I hope no one dedicates a poem to you.

Snooze button,

In five minutes time,

You'll press my button again.

A flaying embrace of flailing sunlight,

As golden as swaying moles at the stroke of midnight.

Snooze button,

You spill through my eyes you salt plain sorcery,

Enticing wishful mirages of dreaming drowning.

Forty-Two Seconds

2011-07-23T00:28:00.008+01:00

Congratulations, and,

Please rest assured,
Your limited edition mp3,
Will be with you shortly,

And will arrive in a virtual-cardboard gatefold sleeve.

And, in delightful edition -

Its very special revolving hole,

Wrapped tenderly - hand-made too!

Will come to you separately,
Posted in a vacuum-sealed, sexy black bubble-wrap.

Now,
We're sorry,

For we are now legally obliged to state the obvious to you:
We know, probably, you are aware of this already, and,

Justin Bieber appreciates your patience and understanding here,

Truly, he does,

For he knows how seriously his special fans,

Love all manifestations of life in this amazing universe so very much:

A universe that created Justin Bieber,

And Justin Bieber fans,

And on the same planet,

And at the same time, means,

Truly,

We Are All One.

But Justin Bieber's lawyers still wish you to know:

Please don't, by accident,

Drop the hole for this mp3 through your hands:
A dropped revolving hole may trigger,

A cataclysmic flux in space-time,

Ripping the entire universe to absolute shreds.

Don't do this in Justin Bieber's name:

He loves you as he loves Canada.

Justin Bieber doesn't want any of his truly astonishing fans to

wipe out fifty-billion-and-one civilisations instantly.

And all for being a little clumsy?

And please be aware,
The person who drops the mp3 hole will be humanity's sole survivor,

(Being the centre of the catastrophe, ironically perhaps,

Means being the only one to escape instant death).

Now that is not good news,
As everyone else, all dead, shall eagerly await their slayer's arrival,
Down and into,

The newly terrible and vengeful black hole afterlife.
And "sorry" and "please forgive me" won't cut it there:
For your forgiving and loving God,

Wrapped as She is,

In the very bubble-wrap of space-time,

Would also have died.

However,

The swirling, melting afterlife,

Functioning out of space and time,

Would thrive.

And yes,

That is really ironic.

Even Justin Bieber's pure and eternal soul won't be able to save you there.

Dear winner,

Please don't let this information spoil your enjoyment of this limited edition mp3,
With its virtual gatefold sleeve,

And its very special revolving hole,
Arriving separately,
In sexy black bubble wrap.

Justin Bieber endorses this message.

********************************

Well,

That was forty-two seconds of your life,
You will never get back.

So how was it for you?

Actually -

Only kidding!

Here you go:
Here's your forty-two seconds back.
Please put them away in a cool, dry and safe place,

Until you need them.

Please use your forty-two seconds wisely,

By July 3011.

If you accidentally consume these forty-two seconds after the use-by-date,

Please fly back in time,
Before your cosmic consciousness disintegrates;
Your local time-warp shaman,

Will be glad to assist you with this,
So don't worry.

(And in case you are wondering -
And you probably are -

Time-warp shamanic practitioners

Will come into existence,

In ninety years and twelve seconds time, precisely,

By which time,

You will also be delighted to hear,
We would also have paid off our current national deficit,
And be invited to join The New Mongol Empire.

The New Mongol Empire?

Oh, don't ask.)

So remember,
Justin Bieber wants you to enjoy his compositions,

And his very special revolving hole,
Safely.

Please be warned:
The lyrics on this mp3,

Contain mild expressions of sentimental sadness.

Justin Bieber,

And The New Mongol Empire,
Endorse this message.

The Swimming Bells

2011-07-14T23:04:00.000+01:00

I heard the scream,
So through walls I fell,
A sidewinder of dream:
The swimming bells.

I serenaded stone-white-noise and other idiots,
Where bricks grow.

I love leaning on rain:
Still life on bursting sky:
In every cloud hangs the bath.

Can we parachute from clouds?
Can clouds?

I'll tip my tethered cloud over this one:
A silvery stream liner for dreaming on:
A slidden slumber chandelier,
A wonderful plumping floss flamingo.

Am I insured for domestic cloud explosions?

The monsoon trenches are triggered.

Too late now.

So as I lay myself down on my raindrop eiderdown,

From my concrete floor carnations bloom.

Me And Whose Army Me And Whose Army Me And Whose Army

2011-07-09T21:50:00.001+01:00

sickening I know

how. dare. they. do. that. missing children dead soldiers terrorist victims

hacked

Shouldn't. Be. Allowed.

so-called journalists

distraught parents' phones

is nothing sacred

the body bags the salutes the kids watching the widow weep

a floor elsewhere loosens the vanquished lover gripping air

like a mime artist holding a hand

and. then. this.

his mum had a breakdown you know

too difficult to get over:

they must close it down

sick toxic

no advertisers should touch it

and

the righteous indignation's and the its gone too far's

rang around the nation for almost three days British Summer Time

like a caveman with tinnitus lying on the sun bed

(wimbledon had just finished)

but it's a new day tomorrow

life goes on

and that means:

I'll Have To Buy The Last Edition

******************************

(a lapsed hindu scribe writes):

two of a thousand years ago

a bloke pissed 'em off

got hung on a cross

He looked down

and watched an enterprising fellow chipping away at his crucifix's foundation

The Jesus Bloke:

Don't worry my son

Don't try to free me

The Lord will..

bloke bloke:

nah nah don't worry

i'm just chopping bits off for a souvenir

i won't compromise your foundation

you won't fall

i just pray

that it will sell on eBay

i've got some paracetimol if you like..

and forgive me

i know i'm not a christian

but who at the present moment is

i know that's a bit deep

the centurions chuckled

* =

2011-07-09T04:17:00.000+01:00

A time will come,
When we can no longer abide ourselves
passing air,
From,
You know,
Down there.

And when no-one is looking,
We will explode ourselves violently timid -
Like a spatula smearing -
Above the dark side of the moon,
(But far away from the Greys' secret observation towers).*

Yet meanwhile,
We shall not pay a second glance,
When kids or grannies,
Fiddle themselves to blindness at the bus stop:
It will just be:
A thing that happens.

And like any workaday entry-point phenomenon,
New and strange target-markets shall be deformed,
That advertisers and marketing people,
Will endevour to consumate.

* = asterisk

Whistler Tear Rockets (The Cubist Chef And The Triangle Sandwich)

2011-07-03T23:04:00.000+01:00

I loved you like an astronaut
loves an actress
loves an eclipse,

You haunt my leave like mist.
I drank your trees.
(I hammer orchids still.)

You whirled stark firework arrays:
Whistler-tear-rockets:
Strafing Butterflies.

Like a chocolate dream of incense,
Flute streams slid waterfall lemons..

Lip-read the smile for a walrus,
A dentist lost.

Your nightingales sang with mermaids
of selling my heart on eBay,

This snow dog bewitched.

A shake down by the moon of lamp post light,
And soon simile solitaire blossomed.

My bauble lighthouse,
Your burning hair-tong-eyes
smoked my moustache's tiny tresses to ashes.

The cubist chef and the triangle sandwich.

Like a whitewash of creasing skylights,
You loved me.

Explicit Parental Advisory

2011-06-29T15:03:00.000+01:00

This Parental Advisory with capital P and capital A,

Is To Warn,

That this poem is a fucking, cunting, explicit,

One.

And if you're a parent,

And if you're under eighteen,

Then, well, it's too late for you.

And what did you do?

Well it's still not too late to

Those philistines you're nearly.

Just fight it.

This is a factotum parental advisory.

In fact,

This is the world's first fucking explicit parental advisory;

Please be warned then,

That this fucking poem has fucking swear words in -

Lots of them,

And when you're least fuckin' expecting it.

Cunting.

You may have fucked up your own life by now,

Please don't say you haven't:

You're reading this.

Don't let your kids read poetry,

Especially jejune, fucked-up verse.

Ban this explicit, cunting, fucking exploding cock

of a so-called fucking poem.

Maybe if your parents..

Ah,

You wouldn't have ventured and supped from this crayon,

And from this filthy poison-ink well.

All your dreams gone and going, going,

Everything you once hated now lactating life

longing long-life,

Skimmed,

Semi-conscious asses milk,

Fortified with thorns, and,

A halo of flies around a princess,

Two for the price of

None.

There's nothing to see here, please move on.

Bargain.

Just can't make it can you?

Think the poet clever?

Rhyming purple with, uh, dark purple? Oh yeah, oh yeah!

Doesn't rhyme, Pine:

Cheating.

Free verse poetry is lazy and absurd,

(You get the point?),

For,

You cannot make oysters from custard pearls,

That stream of consciousness,

Is steam-puddles for girls.

Like a Buddhist on a pogo stick without a carrot for a light bulb:

Birds sing from twigs,

But bricks don't shit.

Think about it mister man,

Think about it.

Everything gravitational,

You cannot eat a scientist from a periodic table,

(Unless it's Mayan).

And a scientist fell from an apple tree.

Won't

On.

And this was the world's first cunting explicit parental advisory,

And for a fucking poem!

This explicit parental advisory was bought on your behalf by:

Cluster bombs on lead guitar,

Another Politician With Vision on your bass case,

A Daily Express seer on triangle,

The four pony-fuckers of the new and improved apocalypse

on the do-ron-ron Nero fiddling calypso,

Concerned Mothers For Assault Weapons And Against Bad Poets

That Swear For No Fucking Reason I Can See

on bazooka,

Fundamentalists and celebrity fundamentalist atheists

on each other,

America Junior

on God Knows What(TM),

Distraught conspiracy theorists

on silenced silencer tamborines,

Sell-out musicians

on advertising trampolines,

And last-but-by-no-means-least,

The Conived Consensus Jazz Ensemble

Banging

Whose

Drum?

And,

Most deceased poets,

Especially those liberal-elite dead French ones,

Who gilded their lily livers in the Euro Trash Salons of Syphilis...

Where are they now?

Their faces eaten off..

So what does that tell ya?

What does it fuckin' tell ya, soldier?

What does it fuckin' tell ya?

So,

Whose your daddy?

Whose the superman?

Whose the fuckin' unicorn?

Music/Love

2011-06-25T09:03:00.000+01:00

If music be the food of love -

I'm a tone-deaf blancmange.

Welcome To The Garden Gnome Shopping Channel

2011-06-23T07:00:00.000+01:00

Welcome to The Garden Gnome Shopping Channel,

And,

If this is your first time here -

Why?

Where have you been?

We mass produce uniquely,

Our gnome-lines are refreshed twice-weekly,

Each gnome has it's own i.d number,

So rest assured,

One can never be mistaken for another.

Mould-engineered by plastic injection craftsmen,

Then hand-finished by aerosol paint artisans,

Your garden gnome is guaranteed authentic -

Their bobble-hatted face won't drip,

And their shatter-proof head will nod happily on windy days.

We are the only licensed garden gnome sellers in the UK.

So what are you waiting for?

Rome wasn't built in a day,

But our gnomes are,

Meaning your gnome could be with you within thirty-six hours,

Or - if you require it urgently - within twenty-four,

And it will cost you only four pounds more,

Couriered directly from our air-conditioned warehouse in Bangalore.

Those..

2011-06-18T22:50:00.000+01:00

I know you'll agree with me:

They make me livid:

Coming over here and taking our council flats and towels.

I bet in their country they can't do..that.

They probably don't even have towels over there,

Unless it's on their fuckin' heads..

And another thing:

It's political correctness gone mad.

I'm not allowed to say I wish they were dead,

Or that if my girlfriend slept with one of them

I'd kick them in the head.

Oh no, I can't say that now,

'cos that makes me a racist misogynist

(whatever they are),

It's like I'm a stranger in my own country.

They come over here,

Nicking our jobs,

Signing on the dole,

Sleeping with our bitches.

Those..

..don't even know

how to treat our women..

It's,

Political correctness gone mad.

It's political correctness gone mad.

You couldn't make it up..

That's twenty pounds please.

Here's nineteen-ninety-nine.

keep the change..

The Honeyed Abyss, The Night Torn

2011-06-13T01:13:00.000+01:00

Palms brush-stroke impressions,
Moonbeams stoke, seep and melt,
Sliding skin diffusing,
Divining;
Gazelle liquid eyes shimmer fathomless,
Bewitching;
Hair, charcoal dew - yarn-spun,
Frames the night,
Sealing silken whispers electric,
Comingling: The Honeyed Abyss,
Enraptured in the sparkle of Orion.

Fingertip streams,
Unclasp Time's necklace:
Jade.
Purest Now.
Nothingness.
Amnesia.

The life lifted,
The landfall - Dream.
The Nature Awakened,
Yearning eternity
imprinting commentary
on the moment.

The night torn,
Just plucked away,

The cruel birds arrive,
I know, I know:
Soon:
Work.
Oh..

Next!

2011-06-08T12:07:00.000+01:00

Need a mortgage?

Drill your eyes.

Then?

Parents?

Dead or alive?

Take their money and their life -

Milk, parasite,

Milk the fuckers dry.

Then?

Grand parents?

Oh dear,

They've no right to be alive,

(They've no right to be dead for that matter!)

It's in the fuckin' will,

Or it will be,

So go for it!

Just go for it.

One small thing:

Don't complain,

When your eyes widen,

A few seconds before one of your fetid offspring,

Your fetid, hateful, ill-begotten offspring,

Fires a bullet -

Bull's-eye,

Through your fuck head.

Don't take it personally;

See it as a chip-off-the-old-block,

A blood-hound tracker-mortgage 2nd generation application.

It's your kids,

Your kids,

Giving something back.

And they don't wanna see you suffer,

See you dribble and gurn,

Down on some granny farm:

You have no right to make them see all that,

You selfish bastard.

Next!

ephydriad descending Thames Ganges

2011-06-04T18:25:00.000+01:00

ululation

oud panther waves slink India ink

night boats thrum dreamfire elixer

fairy-light washing-line-piers swing Shanghaied lanterns

swirling moon-dial whirlpools glisten

tremulous lovers' tuliping lips time-slip swoon

amorvolous

landslide teardrops absinthe drip-drops

layered illuminated filaments glimmer

ephydriad descending

swerving ecstasiate

slow boat twelve-fifty

unicorn

Bermondsey

scintillant cosmogryal night river

dolphins salmon universe saffron

pearl-diving eternitarians

wish-fulfilling sea shanties

shanti shanti shanti

anciently Thames Ganges

Bermondsey

'ari

Krishna

bottle-filling ferries slide

loading-skip floating zen-less anchored quayside

water falling legless glass consciousness streams

amber emerald kohl crimson trampoline

clash-smash tinkle-tinkle thudding solar plexus

bells' citadel nexus

lapping motor-oil-blue sheen unpipping dimples

coil river unwind!

Goya spires reascend heavenward raining melting candle-dips

slanting

mellifluous..

sssss

puddle eyes hush tongue incantation hurdling wordless

mosaic expressions ceramic profiles tile translucent stirred shaken

slaked

mislaid

tree shapes

slayed

resharpen

ululation

oud panther waves slink India ink

night boats thrum dreamfire elixir

fairy-light washing-line-piers swing Shanghaied lanterns

swirling moon-dial whirlpools glisten

tremulous lovers' tuliping lips time-slip swoon

amorvolous

Gnostic Gnome Rising

2011-05-29T13:10:00.000+01:00

Bin Laden was dead,

And the careless bastard's dead again,

So we're advised to be more vigilant than ever,

Against the eyeless man bloating in the ocean;

The gnostic gnome terrorising plankton.

For he shall rise from the depths.

Welcome to the new and improved War on Terror,

War on a noun,

War on a method.

God, I hate advertising.

Heaven Can't Wait

2011-05-15T15:23:00.000+01:00

A gloom of pigeons swirl,

Painting a crown of thorns,

I boil sideways below.

My flyover hangover blooms like an exploding kidney dialysis machine.

Floating rocks ninja-kick and cymbal-crash

inside my skull,

Screaming for a trapanner.

My coordination all mad cows' disease.

Avalanche incoming!

Doh-re-me,

CJD.

My inner ears register:

Vacuum-flask sonnets,

Another imploded afternoon,

Sipping dehydration in The Purgatory Tea Room.

Sonic booms discharge brain-dentist missiles.

I am demented today.

And as I have no aspirin perchance you have a gun?

Don't worry I'm a pacifist;

I won't do anything wrong as I kill everyone.

And today I pray for The God Squad to ding-dong my doorbell,

For I shall lay my loving hands on those believers' strangely beseeching throats.

Tenderly,

I shall jump-start an extraordinary rendition heavenward,

For I believe in forgiveness.

Blessed be me then.

Please don't doubt your faith,

Not now.

You believe don't you?

Just see this as a test then.

Surrender to the choking.

Don't fight it.

It's all there,

It's all there waiting for you.

The Two Games Of Two Halves

2011-05-12T11:53:00.000+01:00

Women play their mind-games of 3d-chess,
Studiously,
With men who play bingo trouser roulette,
Ludicrously.

It's two games of two halves,
And the house usually wins.

A Muse On Music

2011-05-10T21:13:00.001+01:00

Through streams,

Air hangs,

The babbling music strings.

Nocturne Dance

2011-05-03T03:14:00.000+01:00

From one night-time office window,

I zoom my gazing out, out, out,

Searching for other nocturnes,

Dancing the vacuum dance,

Tilting windmills at motion sensors,

That only seem to recognise phantoms,

On Wander Patrol through these elevated moon/june cathedrals,

Built from semi-recyclable materials,

Built to make office-time last and last,

And last..

You cannot get hay fever from a plastic plant,

But that won't stop them from trying,

These triffids of air-con micro-climate-change,

Never change.

The steel-sealed windows reflect, reflect,

Outside windows inside windows,

Like black hole fractal mirror Picasso's.

Stalactite,

Remote.

Guernica profiled,

We identify ourselves with pass cards hanging

from tribal lanyards;

Chakra-opening crystals for the All Seeing Eye.

Sometimes it makes me feel like bungee jumping the vertigo,

Eyes samba tripwire reflections.

Without-word-thoughts I wander,

Wondering;

Nightdream Believer.

Aum.

A couple of cleaners,

Amber-in-aspic,

Are steaming a floor nearer to the sky.

A restaurant bar owner and waitress lock up,

Throwing bottles bagged,

Into a green wheelie skip;

And,

After hugging,

They talk for a few seconds more,

Before separating.

It's just after 2.35am,

Again.

Ultraviolet sheen,

Dead screen savers,

Grey diagonal blinds;

Are those red building lights helipads for flies?

Floors blink black,

Silhouettes windmill,

Electric eels shuffle, click, flutter, ripple.

Oxygen expires plastic plant photosynthesis.

2.36am.

Aum.

Bin Laden

2011-05-02T09:08:00.000+01:00

A gooner,

A goner.

Five-A-Day Magic Mushooms

2011-04-20T16:28:00.000+01:00

The bulbous deep, deep, emerald magic mushrooms no longer looked so magical,

Not for a long time.

He'd been "borrowing" them from next door's back-garden

(when they were asleep at night),

for around four years or so now.
Church goers too!
He smiled: You can never tell by looking at people:
Church goers growing magic mushrooms!

And for four years he's smoked them,
Snorted them,
Curried them,
Even boiled them once -

Like a vegetable,

And they tasted absolutely vile when cooked.

Bleeugh!

But did they transport him to the sitar-reverb realms of Nirvana;

Strings plucked by Buddha, Krishna, Hendrix?

Uh no. No they didn't.

These so-called magic mushrooms,
Never, ever, opened any Huxleyan Doors of Perception,
Rhapsodies of Eternal Light never danced hypnotically behind his third eye,

Or even his two ordinary ones for that matter.

At one with Creation? Never!
No angels ever sang,
Or higher beings telepathically communicated.

His dead pet cat never returned as The Sphinx.

No messages from beyond the grave ever offered direction or wisdom,
or mystical revelation;

Secrets he would then delightfully share with this philistine wasteland.

So he resolved never to touch these over-rated fungi again.
He walked to his garden bin,

And threw them all away - for the last time.

The last time ever.
"I'll stick to supermarket cider from now on.."

He closed the lid and walked back in thoroughly dejected,

Kicking a defenceless garden gnome by the porch door.

His next door neighbour watched him from their bedroom window.
"Sue, come here, Look at this!
The cheek of it!
He's been stealing our broccoli for four years,

Now he's throwing it all away,

And he's just kicked his garden gnome!

He told me he's a Buddhist Druid.

What kind of Buddhist Druid steals broccoli and attacks garden gnomes?"

The Ingerland Statue Of Liberty - The Unveiling Ceremony

2011-04-09T08:46:00.000+01:00

Jerusalem.

England.

The Ingerland.

Princess Diana,

A neon glow-stick raised,

Arcing ten-to-two,

Her robot arm sways,

No moving parts,

Huddled masses mexican wave.

Ingerland. Ingerland. Ingerland.

Don't knock it:

It's good for tourism.

Before The Watershed News, April 4th 2011 (Swearing in the Name of)

2011-04-04T12:24:00.001+01:00

Headlines:

Carnage in the Ivory Coast,

War in Libya,

Drowned refugees off the coast of Tunisia,

And,

Near nuclear meltdown in Fukushima.

You may find some of these very graphic images disturbing..

And next:

Footballer controversy:

Swearing into the camera!

We have edited out

his cheeky behaviour,

And his naughty words.

Airbag Man

2011-03-29T12:45:00.000+01:00

I'm delighted to inform you,

Your great grandchild,

Will be,

Airbag Man!

The Airbag Man!

Aren't you proud?

Back In The Day

2011-03-26T13:45:00.000Z

I remember,

Remember way back in the day,

We never used to say,

"Back in the day",

Back in the day.

Big Society Anthem

2011-03-18T21:27:00.000Z

Big Society,

Big Custard,

Big Data,

Big Message,

Big Garden Gnomes,

Big Goldfish.

I really think we can do it,

I believe and hope we really can.

We've done it before!

Big Society,

Big Hard-Working Families,

Big Complex Carbohydrates,

Big Eyelashes,

Big Penance,

Big Crayons.

Big Words,

Big Astrologicals,

Big Solutions,

Big Tents,

Big Reality,

Big Dialogue.

So,

Here we go again,

One more time now,

One more time.

Hope you're joining in at the back,

I can see your smiles from here!

Good,

So here we go,

One last time now,

And,

Big Society,

Big Muslims,

Big Plant Pots,

Big Organic Goats,

Big Car-Share,

Big Sandwiches.

(I mean really big!)

Ha! Ha!

I knew you'd like that last one;

Those really big sandwiches..

Thank you so..

And,

You can sit down now,

You can sit down again,

No you really can sit down,

I'm not even joking.

Thank you.

Passing Commuter

2011-03-15T19:16:00.000Z

Why was she staring at me,

With that look,

With that look of wistful wonder in her eyes?

As her train pulled away I realised,

She was dreaming deeply in her reflection.

But..

2011-03-13T11:24:00.000Z

She's deleted her profile;

Her whole profile - completely,

Period.

I mean like totally.

So, you know,

We did the usual;

Tried to stop her:

Are you sure?

She kept clicking Yes!

Yes!

You could almost feel the exclamation mark on your face!

So after three attempts,

We let it go,

We let her go.

Her. It. Whatever.

She's completely deleted her account with us.

But,

Tadaa!

We haven't.

No, like that would happen!

We'll do the usual:

E-mail her every now and again:

Hey we're still here bitch!

You know, just to show her who's boss:

We're still fuckin' here! Hellooo!

I mean seriously,

Who the hell do these people think they are?

Like that ancient song goes:

"You can check out,

But.."

Desert Storm Dawn

2011-03-10T23:37:00.000Z

Twenty-somethings are going to bingo,
While sixty-somethings are making "real porn",
Such is the magical opening of the twenty-first-century:
The dawn of the ass-backwards unicorn.

Spoiler Alert *

2011-03-08T02:04:00.000Z

* This poem contains a spoiler alert,
So if you don't want to know what happens in the rest of this poem,
Please look away now.

When this poem is finished I will let you know.

Five, four, three, two, one.

This poem is now finished.

Thank you for reading.

The New Totally Revolutionary Broccoli and Cement Plan

2011-03-06T22:49:00.000Z

Are you fed up with those fad-eee diets?
Those fad-eee diets that are doh! and dee-ar?
Don't fee-ar!!
For
The New
Totally Revolutionary
Broccoli and Cement Plan is hee-aar!!

The Broccoli and Cement Plan

Your excess weight will soon be a goner,
So throw those scales away!
You can eat kebabs and call yourself Donna;
Your fat will kneel and pray!

The Broccoli and Cement Plan

Our program is never boring:
A cup of protein in the morning,
A broccoli flan in the afternoon,
And a cup of liquid cement for suppertime.

Take this for one day,
Your fatty self will burn away!
Your money back -
Gaaaraaanteeeed!
Gaaaraaanteeeed!
Once-in-a-lifetime!
No hidden fees!

The Broh-caaa-lee and Ceeement Plan,
Ring this number now!!

zeeeroh zzzeeeroh ooh one-hundred - "I wanna drink cement"

Please consult your fizz-zishan before beginning this plan..

The Broccoli and Cement Plan

Facility

2011-02-28T09:46:00.000Z

Dear Sir/Madam,

It has been brought to our attention
mmmmmmThat you have been overutilising your overdraft facility
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbYou cunt.

Our commitment to responsible lending
bbbbRequires that we best meet the needs of our valued customers
bbbbbbbbResponsibly.

bbbbbbbbbbDue to ongoing liquidity issues
nnnnnnnnn((And because we just fucking well feel like it)
nnnnnnnnnnnnnWe are sadly
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH(Ha! Ha!)
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLWWWithdrawing this facility from you
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbLLLLLLLLImmediatelyRight now. Right fucking now.

Please rest assured
xxWe may wish to offer an overdraft facility to you again

xxxxProbably

ccccccIn your case

ccccccccIn the far-off distant future
aaaaaaaaaaWhen you stop behaving like an absolute cunt
b aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaYou cunt.

Sorry to swear like this
n nnnnnnnnnnnBut
ccccccccccccccccYou really have been taking the piss haven't you?

Should you have any concerns that
mmYour life will turn to absolute shit
nnnnnnISBecause we are withdrawing this facility from you immediately
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvWithout giving you any prior warning
qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqOr time to make alternative arrangements
qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqPlease do not hesitate to contact us
mmmmmmmmmmmBecause
ccccccccccccccccccccccccTo be honest
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm kkWe enjoy a good laugh
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbHa! Ha!
t bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbSee?

Yours fucking sincerely then,

Customer Services Advisor

A Meeting

2011-02-28T00:26:00.000Z

Please sit down..No?

Okay, if you prefer..

You've probably guessed then, that,

Our,

Meeting,

Is..is..about..

We're going to have to let you go.

Sorry.

It wasn't easy.

It wasn't easy,

But then again,

It was easier than letting ourselves go:

That would've been truly difficult; dreadful.

So,

We didn't do that.

The credit crunch:

With added value,

And vitamins:

More good for me,

Than for you.

May we wish you the best of luck.

Don't answer that:

Rhetorical.

We've clubbed together and bought you some chocolate.

So,

Don't eat it all at once!

Thanks again then.

Security will escort you from the premises.

Please hand your pass in at the door.

Don't worry:

We'll invite you in for the next Christmas party,

Which will happen..next Christmas,

God, what am I saying?

I know you're not thinking about that right now,

You know,

For the future..Christmas,

Please consider yourself more than pencilled in for an invite.

So..

I know, I know..

It's bad. Bad as in not good bad.

Take care then,

And,

No hard feelings, please.

No need for that;

There's no progress in it.

It's not personal:

It's personnel.

Prosumer, Vosumer, Spirisumer

2011-02-27T01:08:00.000Z

So I heard a brand-new word today:
Prosumer.
Prosumer: professional consumer.
As opposed to..?
...amateur consumer?
Amsumer?

Wouldn't you say that most of us
are professional consumers now?
We're so prosuming;
So dedicated to the cause of consuming;
We're professional consumers of consuming:
Prosumers prosuming.

And some of us take prosuming to another level:
Vocational consuming:
It ain't just a job, but a feeling of love;
A need to serve:
Vosuming; vosumer.

And then -
Above vosumers are
Those that take consuming to its spiritual realm:
For these enlightened souls rarely consume what they buy,
They just put their new belongings away,
Until,
They say bye-bye;
And off into bags and boxes they go:
To eBay, charities or recycling.
These spiritual consumers just -
Buy,
And buy and buy:
True anti-materialists of the post-modern world:
Spiritual consumers:
Spirisumers.

Prosumer,
Vosumer,
Spirisumer:
Learn these new words today.

Pine

2011-02-25T02:41:00.000Z

Loneliness pines -
pin-drops echo,
echoes echo.

Moon

2011-02-25T02:35:00.000Z

The heavens open,
the rains darken -
the parched moon shines ardent.

Clock Smasher!

2011-02-22T22:25:00.000Z

His face flows backwards,

Clock smasher!

Stretching a strange storm-tossed wafer-thin lily tree.

Wrinkles blow-torched,

Onion peeled and caramelised.

Synthetic tresses stapled and sown.

His gluey skull resealed,

Re-varnished,

Re-baptised:

Surgeons expertly scrape clients' time-lined anciently ravages:

Industrial dishfacers,

Manga facialists.

He's good to go!

(You don't think so?),

Unbandaged,

Relaminated:

Moon-tanned Bamby,

Drip-dry popsicle.

Shocked venriloquist eyes -

Silky as spam.

Ultraviolet,

Atomised:

Blancmange in neon -

Sparkly,

Glamorous shampoo for you now Powdery Blue!

Clock smasher!

Give Porche A Chance

2011-02-21T03:42:00.000Z

For goodness sake!
Leave the poor bankers alone:
Their penthouses,
And porches,
Have feelings too.

Subliminal Movie

2011-02-18T21:47:00.001Z

One full minute,
One full minute into this Hollywood movie, and,
Bang!
Four seconds of product placement advertising,
Subliminal product placement advertising, mind.

And done so cleverly I almost didn't notice I noticed.

After all,
There is an art to it;
Commerce and art in symbiosis;

Effortless,

Elegant,

Elephant.

The Heartbreak Ringtone

2011-02-15T03:40:00.000Z

So the silent phone plays,
The Heartbreak Ringtone,
Even switched off
it plays The Heartbreak Ringtone.
And my dripping kitchen tap keeps the dead air swinging
in metronomic jazz-time.

One more time Sam,
One more time.
I'm in a b-movie,
Black and white,
"Happy Valentine".

So I pick up my fedora,
The plane is waiting,
I have a pizza to collect,
With my name on it.
Gotta go.
And when I return,
I know my silent ringtone will welcome me home,
And it will play all night long,
The Heartbreak Ringtone,
Like jazz.

Four Haiku

2011-02-12T00:09:00.000Z

The wake of the gliding swan,
A wave surfing
Grass hoppers on a leaf.

***************************

Rustic rainbows,
Fallen fractals,
Autumn swept.

***************************

The arctic sunrise
Spilling crimson
Simmering ice.

***************************

Porcelain wrinkles,
Rain lines windows,
Dusk glowing dim.

***************************

Love On A Cold Dentist

2011-02-07T18:43:00.000Z

He gazed at her the gaze of the ages
She demurred
Purring
Throwing back her stroke my hair of shimmering river
Her smile more delicate than dream itself unfurled
Cheeks a furnace of pounding heart-crush
Her full-tilt tulip's slightly parting
Strawberry smile
Her date, the dentist fairy riled
!
And so waved the magic dentist wand
And
Smashed the poor guy's teeth in

Ego Ecology

2011-02-03T10:22:00.000Z

Memories revive

Plastic plants

Evergreen

That Inevitable Question

2011-01-23T14:51:00.000Z

A handful of commuters,

On the platform,

Waiting,

Were waiting,

A man -

Some bloke,

Walked past me,

And up to the self-service confectionery machine,

And started making noises: huh! huh! hoohauuh! hooh-hoh!

So..

I asked myself that inevitable question:

Should I turn around?

Do I really need to see why this man -

This bloke -

Is making these strange noises?

I decided:

No. No. I don't need to know at all why this man - this bloke - is still going,

Loudly now:

Huhoohahun! Hooah! Hooah! Huh!!

So,

I didn't turn around.

And then,

Of course,

I did.

He was shadow-boxing;

Shadow-boxing the self-service confectionery machine.

Ah! Ha!

I thought like Mister Clever:

Those are Kung Fu-like noises he's making:

Totally harmless.

Totally harmless,

Until he started beating the shit out of it.

Then he stopped and looked up.

At me.

Our eyes locked.

And it turned (for me anyway) like one of those westerns where a man -

Some bloke -

Walks into a bar,

And the piano player stops playing,

And the barman ducks behind the bar,

And some card players look up,

And one of them says:

We don't want no trouble mister ..

So our eyes locked.

I felt a trickle of oh shit! down my neck..

He nodded at me.

I nodded back.

And, with that,

Some quite enigmatic and elusive man-to-man understanding was reached.

Thank God for that.

Then,

He went back to punching the self-service confectionery machine.

The train arrived.

And he stopped beating the self-service confectionery machine:

He obviously had somewhere important to go.

And we both got on the train.

He sat across from me,

Picked up a discarded free newspaper to read,

And,

Read.

That probably made me ponder,

But ponder to ponder nothing much.

Slap Your Baby, Make It Cry

2011-01-18T13:57:00.000Z

And please hush now -

TV volume up:

An important politician is orating himself,

To tears.

Off-the-wrist onanist:

Oral cavity inspiration.

So inspired, he is,

By his own words,

He's actually bringing himself to tears.

He's orating himself to tears.

Lips all a-tremble:

It's a site:

His vain of tears.

Explaining his "Nineteenth Way":

Journey..end of the night..hope..terror..better..balance..

prolapse..process..choice..vision..Nineteenth Way..economic suicide..

opportunity..equality..individuality..

love..enemies..deficit..defence..optimal..dental..reality..unblemished..the cancer of..

innocence..feral children..peace..diabetes..

positive change..traditional values..responsibility..hard-working families..torture..

crime..planet..paradise..terrorists..shoulder-to-shoulder..dreams..

us..them..more terrorists..green..immigrants..

war on..peace..God..joined-up..criminals..liberal elite..fiscal discipline..

community..

Me Prime Minister,

......Me,

..You,

......Me. Again.

......Prime Minister,

........Vote. Me.

..........Tomorrow!

Thank you..

..............................He's finished.

The possessed sway,

And chant,

And cheer.

And they cry a little too.

It's not nice.

And tomorrow I'll probably vote for this guy -

And his Nineteenth Way.

..So different, I bet, from The Eighteenth Way and The Third Way,

And the second way and the..

Balloons and streamers release, and,

One of those lite-rawk anthems blasts asinine thoughts on

believing in dreams if you reach for the something or other:

Sonic napalm for organ-gurning monkeys.

Who are these simpletons that watch this neo-fascist-like propaganda on TV?

I mean,

Apart from me?

Now this is where it gets really bad,

So turn your gaze away now if you're of a delicate disposition:

He's..

Wait for it..

He's holding someone's baby.

An evil parent has just handed him over their defenceless flesh and blood.

Bonding with nuclear blancmange - poor baby.

And now he's kissing the baby.

They say there's nothing worse than seeing a baby cry,

Oh yes there is:

Witnessing a sweet baby smile and gurgle at a corpsing vote-bandit.

The politician's vision:

Perfect 20/ vision,

Slap your baby,

Make it cry.

Presence

2011-01-13T08:20:00.000Z

I'm facing the roads that didn't take,

And the blood flows ice-cold;

The present absences,

Summon up themselves,

Just like that.

Arising - eyes stark rockets,

"Look!" they point,

Down this road,

Then this one..

So, round-around and round the spaghetti roundabout we go.

Waltzing phantoms slide,

Shuffle around,

Blend into,

And vaporise, whistling through me,

Misting away:

Mist into mist;

They will never say goodbye.