love & christmas bells.

christ has come out for another year with his sleigh bells ringing. the jingle of family fare after the slaughter year. tired puckering relax. sit back with the family and smile. have a sigh, hang out, no trouble. simple, sublime. old enough to have nerved the tensions. mature talk and civilised behaviour. a mild touch of nostalgia. live the dream. and it seems i am. i know i finally can. for the fear can only freeze you if you hide behind the foibles and refuse to shine bright. you can be a star or part of the dark, thick night. the choice is yours, i choose to lose the fright. treat everyone with care, and you will get your share. no more than you deserve, no sick indulgences, just your due. you will receive as much as you put in. you want to live? then don't be afraid to sing. you can be a freak like me, be damn proud, you got the right to be free from the big man. we all got the right to be free from the big man. look the big man in the eye. stare him down. make him blind so that he may see. give him freedom. make him believe. we can all be greater than we are. our lives grow shorter so put up the fire. feel it burn you alight til you are a blazing glory, your own sunlight. you are part of a magnificent universe so look past the darkness and seek out those other stars bright. this isn't cheap fame, this is the real wonder game.

ideas gumbo

i stare at the poster, she looks at me so plain. i feel so lonely again and again. the music plays behind the beat. i want a life so tidy and neat. no i don't. i want adventure and pain. no living is not the same. it is the bliss of this. the being of seeing. i can feel it now creeping in my bones. i suppose you either nose or you don't. i nose it. i nose it real well. it's a feeling swell. i can't explain it. even in the pain, i feel the same. i know. i have to go. yo yo yo. up and down and all around, it is the sound that abounds. in the groove it feels so damn smooth. a cliche? it's a feeling, i can't complain. magnificence is a state of mind. it captures you when you feel behind. imagination is the key. set if free. and believe. for the truth is no deeper than your beliefs. capture it, record it well, for in the future it may create a groundswell. and if it don't, don't behove, the future is here, don't you know? behind the ho ho and the booty call, there's still a truth, it ain't a foe. believe yourself not what you see, the truth is your own, it's what you want it to be. i believe in the being, the freeing of the mind, leave everyone else's worries behind. don't be bland, a sandwich fan, make your own dishes, find the ingredients, enrich us. create before it is too late. you gotta cook it, yeah cook it.

the wonder of thoughts and love (the safety of a void)

i was filming a gig tonight. the sun set slowly and out came the lights. smooth tunes grooved on. i was cruising in the song. we were in the city square with angles around. light bouncing off glass and the sound did abound. went to the bar after the gig. to get a cheap giant beer and have a swig. the two blondes sidled up beside me. i looked in the mirror and hoped they would talk to me. so she did. and I balked as she talked. where could it go? was i a moron for being so? there was nought here. except a headband that matched her best friend. i walked away, i had nothing to say. between the void of wanted loins, there was no connection, only the void. and a void can be seen, can be touched. but without the love, it is never enough. i can spray a load inside a dead hole, but where is the feeling, the desire, the abode? i want to live with another, side by side, for her to know me, and want me, desire. not for the clothes or the fancy talk or the walk. but for me, who i am, nothing fancy, just a being. i let my alter ego speak for me in the talk but in the walk i am me and it is plain to see. i can desire no more than to find the woman of my dreams in whose arms i reside. i know in this age the flowery language is gone. but i beseech you to wonder and wonder. be bold. find yourself and trust it, for there is no one else that can see the truth of being and seeing. and then when you find her, admire her, and let her be. see? love is freedom not some lifestyle dream. breathe, breathe, breathe. love is a wonder beast.

bitchy whiskey and those heart stoppers.

my body still reeks of the bottle of whiskey i single handedly polished off last night. I contemplated a stroke, cancer, and life as i sucked back on my latest rollie. the ashy butt left me feeling less than the champion the packaging promised. instead i felt decidedly ill. perhaps it was time for a colonic irrigation? if i was in LA, i could have upsized the colonic, and got a full anal bleaching as well. unfortunately i wasn't in LA so i had to settle for a whiskey induced slumber. i awoke this morning, whiskey glass still resting gently in my hand, and I felt alive. life is electric. i hurt, my vision shimmied, and i wasn't sure if i were awake or dreaming. no really, i was so tired, i thought i was dreaming being awake. life is electric. my latest mad love craze danced suggestively in my head. it kept me sane. the possibility that out there somewhere was a woman that could stop my heart in a beat. life is electric. my heart at any point could collapse in a flash of alcohol and cigarettes. alcohol and cigarettes. it numbs my brain and stops me feeling lonely in a world full of people that don't communicate. unless it is in txt. lol. who the fuck is lol anyway? she sounds like some rich bitch with fake tits and a face that is all lips. botox lips. she feels important because she has a lot of numbers in her mobile. she texts, teases, flirts with nameless, half remembered faces. that guy in the club the other night when she was flying high on a plane of feigned ecstasy. a real drug, a fake feeling. a euphoria to strip away the pain of trying to be popular. the school yard is long gone but technology has brought back the bitch and the bully. let's all get hundreds of friends on myspace, facebook, youtube. who has the most friends? who cares? behind the makeup, the clothes, the mobile, the online presence, who are you really? is there anything there? i am not a preacher, i am not a poet, i'm just me and i know it. i have an ego so huge that i know the wankers in the world will always lose. i am too smart to be the president, i am too smart to be the pope, i am too smart to play the game. don't you see, it's boring to be the same? the lifestyle dream is a corporate farce. valentine's day is a hallmark card, why wait for one day? love should always be a blast. every single day. if you really cared, you wouldn't buy overpriced roses and a pre written card, you'd give your soul, it's not that hard. sure alcohol and cigarettes will kill you, but so will the lifestyle dream. do not be bought, learn, learn, learn. be self-taught. look between the words, the images, the fear. the truth is deep, so take the dive. swim through shit creek without a paddle then wash it off and take pleasure in being you. not some carbon copy cutout. think, think, think. fuck it, have a drink. live more than a little, live a lot and never stop. don't wait til you're sixty to get a super payout. be bold and live today. it's time to play.

blurry love sounds

the weekend a blur of music a blur of love a blur of unrequited requited? passion overflowing and bruising skin and minds. jagged comments, wandering memories, euphoria and the fear of something said. the desire of that left unsaid. friendships won and lost, new people discovered amidst the abyss of beery substance flow and flow until altered worlds abound. pissing in a lane, the taste of vomit on lips, not remembered, a mind adrift. escaping the party to fro and the throng. nothing but an empty road. back to the song and on and on. i feel like i belong. the sound is clear and loud and sharp. yet soft and delicate, the sweet tinkle, a harp. party party. jamming in the sound, people drift in and out, simplicity is found. in the sound, yeah, in the sound. her eyes burn me. arsehole. not true. the friend who puts an arm around another's shoulder. a former friend. is this the end? behind beards lie secret agendas that get twisted and gnarled in the cove of a bender. a woman reclines in the throng between two roaring beasts and their song. the sound of man wanting to belong in the soul body of another's lover. a best friend, was he a brother? it is no one's show, it is a worldly game we play. men don suits and slay and slay. in the midst of the carcass rot is a soul so besot that the world flick flick flcke flke flkrs soso so. oh no, is this love or another passing fancy? another empty road, the darkness, the forbode. do not forsake me now, oh you who see. i do not pray, i know not what you may be. yet you are some feeling that tells me that this might be right. bring the sun, remove the chill from the night. connect me now. please press play. away away away.............

THERE AREN'T WINNERS, ONLY GRINNERS.

you stand face to face with a crocodile. huge teeth glimmer in the stinking noon sun. you notice drops of water slowly forming into little tear drops and falling slowly off the gritty skin of the beast before you. the pounding sound of its tail tearing into the water. time stops. behind the beast, a bird, in soft focus far away tweet tweets in a tree. if this weren't so terrifying, it would be heavenly. feet sink sickeningly into the mud. in moments you will be dead. there will be only one winner and it is staring you in the eyes. dead eyes. your mouth feels pasty, like you've smoked a pack of cigarettes for breakfast, had a mouthwash of vagina, then sat out in a desert for a week. beneath the layers of plaque there is the slightest hint of better times. they have long since perished and left behind a body ready to shit themselves with fear. time is still frozen. stopped. the painted, gaping jaw of the crocodile, backlit by the beating sun, and off to the left, in the distance the tweeting bird poised in the sky, ready to glide effortlessly away toward another day. you swallow a mouthful of your dry, off cheese mouth, and reach into your pocket and retrieve a piece of gum. you unwrap it in slow motion as the crocodile smiles it jaw at you. the gum inches toward your mouth as the crocodiles jaws slowly clamp down toward your little melon head. at least you will go out with fresh breath.....the sun strikes against the jagged tooth of this mighty man killer. you can smell the stench of the undead rising from the depths of its belly. the pungent stench hits you hard from the crocodiles open jaw. without thinking you throw the gum into its mouth and your eyes close as you are overwhelmed with minty freshness. is this death? dark, minty freshness. then you open your eyes and there before you is the crocodile, reclining, on its side, one clawed arm supporting its head as it chews on the gum and looks at you. you swear it is smiling at you, and then, and then, and then.....no...you are going mad. the crocodile winks at you and nods its head. you can do little but smile back and laugh hysterically. your pasty mouth becomes the rich juices of a woman you may one day see again. there are no winners here, only grinners............................welcome to the world of johnny blank.