Monthly Archives: June 2015

Honey Sweet and the erratic Arabian night letter.

I got a god complex
about seven miles wide
Careful, you’ll fall straight through
if you look me in the eyes
My sins are like salt left
where the tide was dried
But somewhere along the way
I don’t know what I’ve imbibed
Somewhere along the way
God knows that I’ve died
Yet I look down here and
I’m twitching alive
All you atheist fuckers that think you’re alive
Bringing down debates you don’t
know with pride
You do believe in Heaven
– you shot it up into the sky
You still believe in Heaven
You hope you’re going when you die
You can’t see that you did
So you went and told your kids
But you shot it to the sky
You think you’re going
when you die
But it’s pie in the sky
Apple pie? mmm my favourite
But that’s by the by
I lost track of where I’m going but
that’s by the by,
it’s made it a laugh – I think
Your attention is a draught that I drink
probably could do better but
this will do – I’m knackered, it’s
late, I’m writing this from the motherland, Africa and
its fucking late and the
Sun has caned down on my
shoulders all day and Africa’s
a mad place, got chatting to some natives today, covered with sand) and they
told me the mad fucking
big butterfly that landed on my
leg was an auspicious sign
and I buzzed off that as it
buzzed off me
what? butterflies don’t buzz, that’s
bees…. fuck it I’m going to
bed… I’m already in bed…
Christ I’m tired and this
pen makes me weirdly wired
– those guys also loved rap
but only as of recent – they
buzzed off “Fuck Tha Police”
which I told them was old but
they have only had four years
since their revolution in this particular
country, before which you couldn’t
say “fuck tha police”
or you’d be taken away, astray
for no more bright hot days
and cokes and ashtrays – they
loved me because I could say what
I could say and live to see the next day
(the midnight oil’s really coming out now..)
– also the main one was
called “Mr. Paradise” which
I though was sick after
old jack and all that.
A pleasant evening to you.
I’m starting to doubt the spelling of
words that are deffo spelt
right so good night,
a pleasant evening to you.

Pond’s reflecting quality.

An upside-down plane
Just flew through
the sky
-I’m wondering, why?
I’m wondering , why ?
How can it fly?
Upside down through the sky

The crumble fronds dry
And I wonder more, why?
As I puff through more lyes/lies
The pond bounced up
the sky,
Life’s a bitch, then/when you’re high,
Hang on, the pond bounced the sky high?
From this I surmise
(And from the angle of eyes
And the fact that the sky is no-where tied,
And Reflects the same back to eyes
When bat’d back up-side).

I now know this is why
The plane can upside-down fly
And still fly well
to return back to Earth,
The fold-up-over Earth
People step off the plane
And they do so so well
And step off this plain
And step off my brain
And fall down the drain
That is their own brain.
I hope they don’t strain.


To relax you.

Upsurges of magic! Come on up from down deep
To whistle through and burn up the pressure that creeps
When spirit is stretched and muscle seems heavy
And when applied through the mind the rhyme ain’t worth a penny,
Rather like that one.
What is a word?
The sound?
The scribbled byro ink?
There’s probably no such thing as meaning that’s probably for sure!
What is a man?
The sound?
The scribbled byro ink?
The skin? The fizz?
The potential to manifest?
Them old memories?
Oh it’s all so important!! Jesus!!
Hmm…well I definitely need much more practise of some things
and less of others!
Must keep smashing symmetry!!… !
Not to mention
Paddling this bobbing bloody ridiculous thing to some sure shore
where it can find purchase and have purpose and place.
Relevance would be nice also, but WHAT fucking is that?!!!
What, do I just watch the news and talk about something I saw there?
They colour it! The news is paid for (& therefore packaged) by those who aren’t interested in anything NEW.
My grandparents took me once, as a young boy, to a Salvation Army service and in the car on the way there I can remember thinking they’d actually have guns and stuff – they just turned out to be some really quiet, pious and gentle older people who were wise and kind, collecting money and gifts for less-fortunates. The real army should maybe mirror aspects of this sentiment in that inbetweeny hiatus bit between wars that are just, if there are any, instead of continuing the by-contract contraction of muscle flex into fetid further fighting in the name of silly old farthings.
And just who the hell is that man who comes on and brags about his Lamborghini that he’s got at the start of some youtube videos you put on to relax you?
“Pretty nice to drive in the Hollywood hills huh?” He obnoxiously harrumphs.
“Ahh, err, well, never been there man”
“Oh, err, har har, ahem, well…”
“I mean, err…… is it nice? Sorry, I’ve interrupted, ahem, yeah… Pleasant?”
“Well, I mean, err, yeah”
“And a lambo man!? You’ve got one then, yeah? A lot of people want those don’t they? Hmm not everyone can afford those, that must be something right?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, you’re kinda drawing too much atten…. No, yeah it’s awesome to drive, AWEsOME! And it cost a LoT yeAaAAAAaAAAahH”
“And you’re all chilled about that yeah? That’s why you’re videoin….”
“Yeah I’m chilled man! What are you crazy? Have you seen this thing? Have you seen how chilled and cool I am with this widely sought after ca…”
“Your nostrils are flaring man, ahem”
“Yeah you can see you’re really happy, almost like you think that car actually makes you bette…”
“What do you mean my nostrils are flaring man? What are you talking about anyways, err… Have you seen this car?”
“Yeah I’ve seen it man, ahem….. Maybe see you again then at the start of another video I’ll…. Oh he’s scampered off to the driver’s side seat to masturbate, never mind!”