Falling for a Fable
That pierces my sky
None bar the knell of Doom
Burning Promethean pyres
Blue resembles little clarity
An idea only but dim
Beneath the scope of prose or rhyme
Good love harbours my pyromania
Swarming flies parade pansy-like
Below the promontory of blue rock
Dimming a blind note of sapphire irony
To cry and shed no earthly tear
Béchamel to sweet the ether black
Ragged rats bounce a bourgeois jig
Lacking the noose that clamps the cord
I simply die to be born!

Hiss and make up

Thank you me for getting resurected from ashes of lust, for being a man of standing and sexual equivalence.

At the Mall every young face was caked with foundation, every lash clotted up with mascara. At the Mall I go to see beauty, it is frankly only skin deep. In UK all the girls use the same magazine articles to determine their make up.

Us blokes get dodgy on the ground of calling specious shots about feminine mores, however, my mysogeny flies high and wide across the keyboard.

Malls are fucked, only profit and dividends suck, I get a 'here we go again' from the missus and kids but, mister tamborine man, you aint gettin' my endorsement.

While beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, 99% wear the same glasses as dame Edna or queen Elton - must be the panda eye syndrome - those who can't quite believe that Mammon is going to go to sleep for ever and ever.

Z

BANKRUPT, BROKE, BORROWING, BRAZEN AND BARMY

Here’s a lesson I learnt one day in a mountain range in central France: It’s quite special if you will.

Sometimes during a breakdown, grace calls at the door. That was me. I set off one day from a farmhouse near a small village in the Ardeche on a 125cc trail bike.

As my marbles had left the bridge, logic took a sabbatical in the land of the fairies. I got that tabula rasa sensation that my mind was no longer under my conscious control. In fact, Id had turned up in its place.

When Id said “bank” I banked and when Id said steer I steered. Id decreed, that I keep my eyes shut the whole time. I thought what I had done was quite straightforward; until my eyes opened to see the arc of the right hand bend I had just taken.

This continued but I let myself travel somewhat more safely until I ended up riding down a rocky dried up river at dusk and getting stuck. There was a covering of snow so I had to find a road and when I did Id took a direction and bounded across drifts in fields and on hedges.

I discovered next day that the police were contacted and they contacted mountain rescue while I wandered into the village eventually along the main road.

The police got worried I rode the bike with no insurance (ha!ha!), they took me for a terrorist and slapped me about. They could do that if they wanted, still do no doubt.

Z

Happy Fall dudes.

When the white eagle of the north is flying overhead
The browns, reds and golds of autumn lie in the gutter, dead.
Remember then, that summer birds with wings of fire flaying
Came to witness springs new hope, born of leaves decaying.
Just as new life will come from death, love will come at leisure.
Love of love, love of life and giving without measure
Gives in return a wonderous yearn of a promise almost seen.
Live hand-in-hand and together well stand on the threshold of a dream.

-Graeme Edge

In a land full of liars, the hypocrit is king.

This person was part of 3 families very into kinds of crime causing loads of problems for the community. Crimes were various and set against a background of poverty and illiteracy. Personalities exotic and threatening more often; crime perpetually bequeathed to the youngest.

Another person, sweet person kindof principled and compassionate she had a baby and another; the oldest got taken into care like the person she was in care and mum too. Partner went to prison and he was against her brother for grassing him up. The partner dumped her and the oldest child was already in care.

The first person had the wish to improve her chances, and her past yapped at her heels causing her to return to ancestral ways just then she saw the light down the line once again. When these adults affirmed her fighting spirit and helped her spread her wings, she fell back into the sea.

And rose...and fell.

The guys are mad as hell, this guy sounds thick and mad so the rythmn of his mind and the wisdom of his words begin to fall a bit like the sweet south on the true ear - the wisdom of a 16 year old man of the world.

Purely to dip a toe in the water of the watercourse way - the wonderful fish that flash like a coin of gold and then gone.

Z

"No future...no future...". What a wonderfully hopeful sentiment (says Johnny Rotten in his best English). His famous Australian "cunt": out of Africa and what the toucan says; now begets now, out of the present here comes now. No future, never! You look at the future, and what do you see? Two barrels of a shotgun. Either/Or - either/or is crap and choice is crap and the "free" market built on choice is crap. There is never a choice: "what will be will be." There is an illusion of choice but deny/ignore the illusion. Assert freedom and deny determinism; deny freedom and assert determinism = kif kif inch allah.

Z

At risk of sounding preachy (not so bizarre, eh?) - there is a theme that has come around for us (me & you) in my 'work', that theme is the meaning and practice of freedom. Suspending all beliefs and allowing random navigation, I have found a good connection with great freedom. This path tends to cut ties and permit progressive freedoms from the so-called wheel of birth and death. Might these thoughts point to a moral point of view, I & I holds to the truth of rastafari (without the hat)? This work I humbly profess to doing in my simple way of life, is, simply put, liberation. I tend to liberate me and I tend to liberate you - only a small piece at a time and the honest truth? You can't trace it back to me.

Z