Do you know the stars? Only when I look at them.-that which truly rings. Tears coughing. Choking us.

“Protege-ing.”Every child, son of a young man must write his father’s autobiography.

Father as success.Moving on, nature, betterment.

800dollars for the car. “Nick and Nick” some things were left off. Fucking service done wrong, fraudulent. An that’s how you die.

Niki, tell me why you got so cold o me. You changed, made plans, rescinded, unminded, dissected, turned away. Slept with someone else? Just left me- for what reason. So cold in France. You say you’ll throw caution to the wind from your car: I saw “pardon”. 

I joke at the wid stealing your voice. Say it again you proud fucking wretch. Sin again. Break me as I wish to wrest you. Merciless. Mercy me. Price paid in full, for my love an any old entertainment will do. Old sitting time, want for company. Caution to the wind indeed, your red hair. My anger, your loss. People chipping away at me. Me needing new shoes. Shine in, shine on.

Complex games played, heartbreak in France and I smile now at your anxiety over sex. Neurotic woman, “you’re good at that, through quaking lips” fuck you fuck you fuck you!!! A silly boy. Loss and love versus all that lust. 

Blankets and turning in, and wrinkles become me.

Dangerous people. Aren’t they. Ask, be a daring. 

Individual.

Reliability. Unique. 

Technology abandon.

Irony.

Wallet, phone, Facebook.

Revolt. Change.

Patrick. And yours? 

“Daniels”…

Daniels… And YOURS?

Nick.

Facepalm. Thanks or the call. May we last forever.

Down and up, like so many things. What-when hearts colliding brings. Fabled story telling brings. Close closed lips, meeting iris rings. Cords and flesh outward sing. Rub back, forward perspirings. And fed breasted babes are harrowing- to bosom and baptism we all cling. 

No act no words. Oh our breath is shared. All is won, and lost in bed.

The perversion of food. Eroticism. My acid tongue. Experiencing everything inside myself. A slave? No. Cream. Word associate! The family. The run-off. 

Adoption of ideas. I’m so shallow, boring basic, overthinking useless, wailing Devils advocacy. Private, intimate, shallow, wasted, poignant. Face clutching, animated, story teller. Experiential. Presidential. Free, bluesy, basic, brilliant, inclusive, angry, lost and left behind. Thigh scraping, fem, gem, then, them other,

Mother. Lost flags rail against my skin on a beach in the middle of my cold back. Sweet pain, bitterness and an unwritten story to mourn, select, wish and love my old grand lasting memory. 

Wild intensity finds stratus fields of view. Catastrophe after normal periods of coin covered hate. Falling diabolically in the Hugo Train station of laughter and listing loss. I lessen and lustnover Liath, the Virgin of transparent honesty. “I am not ready”. I respected, relented, talked and slept. No weeping or uncomfortable wanting. Just rest, rugby isn’t the game for me my love. I don’t pass backwards, it’s ok.

But I’m gone now and I wonder what you’re thinking.

Edinburgh, I will come–

Home home Aa

Bars. Big night and kissing missing. Hang out. 

Old friendships and lost love. Te patients as life floats on by. No room for the old, always improving. Liking someone, sharing time, feeling, holding hugging warmth. Stay with me, never die. Let’s leave when your partner wouldn’t. So much to to. A greedy night of drinking to forget. 

The mob’s semi circle. Verve. Around me, away, aware away thrumming lips. Smile and thought. A million miles past the guy that says “you don’t belong”. Cooled than you, than all. 

My shins split. Arm in arm with the beauty. 

You’re– Weird and misshapen, as is the rest of humanity

New voice : The moment that your husband goes for acknowledgement is the moment he drops you dancing.

Never have I ever:

lets go play that game.
Water.
Grug at work.

Charachter.
Chracter. Charachter
character. Its been a long time since one of these nights.
Everything is being burnt of cleant. Cleaned.
I write, I read. I think. Darkly. Sadly. Alonely.
Randomly, wanting. Wishing.

I thought: Why am I sitting in this workplace with these people who I don’t like? Why am I here with them here? Why why why why why?
An I LOST MY WALLET.
And my clothes. Simple. basic man making neurotic silence and anger and pointless downer son thumbs down. Anger in flesh and character and cold so cold and book shelves and time and the books and the change that comes over me. And mastubating this morning has made me homocidal. Angry formidable, sarcastic, calming, cutting angry angry so angry and just fuming. I saw a photo of my father and sister, when cleaning my room. Listening to placebo.
B-Sides. A to B. Record. I am recording.
I saw them and I cried. No exercise.
Just waiting, awake, its raining. Its raining and there’s no reason to be awake or up or do anything. I’m alone. Surprisingly alone. Down and out and sound asleep. Eyes open, in my room, silent desk.
Pictures, book of love.
So much to look into.
Semantics.
Environment.
IRONY
Same word. Its an anagram, puzzle scrabbly.
WHY NOT
“Y not”.
A joke.
And semantics.

and beyond that, and the history of my feelings and emotions and reactions.
How all this reads. How I write a mosquito
Clap and blood in my hand.
And chocolate in my teeth and my belly swells and I feel down and killer. And the money I need to do anythiing. Scrapped.
Art weekend. Restricted by someone anythingsomeone.
Penguinpandaladyselfconsciouswobble. Down. Down down-down.
English summer rain, seems to last for ages.
Drop on bye.
You’re in the sky.
I’m in the basement baby drop on bye…

And characters between tears.
Arutha. is a brash young adventurer.
Rumored rumored rumored. Rum, raisin, chocolate. One of each.
shot shot shot, snap snap snap. sip sip sip
catch that?
MARK THAT!?

As the sun set in the northern sky and the city was slowly being engulfed in an eerie darkness. I watched in awe, at the horizon that looked almost to be afire. Onfire. My jaw ripthreads casting pains into my eyes. Mellowing, spasming. I heard the ethereal voice, distant. A descriptive god. I scraped at my jaw. A broken tile were my teeth. I heard descriptive words as feelings. On the water to the edges of the horizon stretch, other elements. Land and light. My jaw was effect. Grit. Spittle and the recitation of perfect words. Language formed from a swirl, but the cement of my body couldn’t articulate. Involuntary pins. Prickling poetic sense. Lashing at the back of my closed throat. Gulping impossible, sat upon. Elephant memory fading. I blinked the cherry juice from my eyes. Mushy strawberries for lips. Spittle and sun dripping, fading. Into the dusk.

scary, shadows, violent, noisy, chilling, neighbours.

Strange, perspective, different, fun, canny, cool.

26/10/2005.

Pompeii, Naples. Swimming. Amazing. Roman. Town. Frozen. Volcanic. Vesuvius. Thousand. Walk. Ruins. Lava. Mosaics. Fire the imagination. Wish you were here.

Taj Mahal.
Slow. Train. Delhi. Rajasthan. Agra. Marble Tomb. Mogul. India. Dead wife. 500. Magnificent. Gardens. Pools. Domes. Spires. Marble. Hot. Paddle. Security. Ice-Cream. Shade. Cheers.

Machu-Piccu
Peru! Temple. Sun. Looking. Down. Inca. two-thousand-seven-hundred-and-fifty. Walk. Spectacular. Amazing. walled. steps. Cuzco. Discovered 1911. the same year you were born. Eerie don’t you think? Ok.

Describe the kind of love between Romeo & Juliet.

Is love like an addiction.
Can you describe what a metaphor is?
Can you use numbers to explain all the forms of figurative language?

What would you do for love? How far would you compromise.
And I SAT THERE IN THAT STUPID MEETING NOT GIVING ANYTHING TO THESE PEOPLE AND THERE ARE NO ANSWERS OR WANT. JUST STALE MONEY GRABBING GUBBING GRUBS IN THE ABYSS. SICKNESS.

The thought. All human wants and value attribution that falls out-side of fundamental human needs = pollution.

Conflict stems directly from obstacles.
Tension, drama. Climax.
“Mature love”

COMPLY WITH PROPRIETY? What the fuck does that mean!

has there been a turning point in your life when fate changed everything?
What parts were determined?|
when have you challenged fate?

AUDREY HEPBURN’S FUNERAL POEM THAT SHE WROTE FOR HERSELF. lovelovelove.

ATTITUDE = 100%

LIGHTNING –

“Fury said to
a mouse, that
he met
in the house let us both go to law
I will prosecute you. – come, i’ll take no
denial; We must have a trial.
For really this morning I’ve nothing to do.
said the mouse to the cur ‘such a trial; dear sir,
with no jury or judge would be wasting out breath’
‘I’ll be judge I’ll be Jury, said cunning old Fury:
‘I’ll try the whole case and condemn you to death”

Justice? Where is everyone.

Why aren’t they here? Are more

Alive today than have ever been dead? Millions? Try billions. At a dash, a stroke a word, of imagination. All gone. Infertility now. And 159 years from right now, we’re gone. A tiny stroke. 

Human life. Gone in a stroke. 

Inrrevocable. Vocal if I speak. Hurt in a sound. Death follows as a silence. And where are they now? 

Why aren’t they here? What has happened? This money, this moment alone. They’re out there. Cold, alone, maybe together. But suffering as I am. Here. 

Why aren’t they with me? Alone. And I have my phone but that’s not what I want. Contact. Contribution, attributes that smile out of me. My chest, ribs cracking with each final bevy breath until it’s true. What I say. 

Until it’s true. 

Trying time. Times changing me. Wrinkles like puff pastry in an oven. On or off, if and only if. I’m off my food, lip biting agony of pleasure later. Anything but that. Seeking out my pain. 

Thresholds. 

Hold my hand, heart, eyes.

Rotted fettered jell you. Unbearded Kelly. Republic of potato and swollen belly. Bell curves and bell ends. Sacrifice sex for society. Wants of my own!

But where.. Where are they now?

I want them here. I want to hear their talk; their speak. High minded ideals. The weather, surviving- clothes off the floor. She’ll like.

Shell-like button. The colour, notice? Replace. But we can’t replace that absence. Where are you now? I know I want. Running down a corridor, four of them. The front of a button. Sewing.

My nose, a reflection of people.

Flat out. In the mirror of the bathroom or a lake somewhere in the outback. Where am I now?

Eyes

Like

Melted ice. Lips dry like sticky rice. Lashes falling and no luck.

No wish. I will.

Chance a hope, a pray. Pay fealty to my feelings. Dripping sores around wrist and neck where I’m connected to most useful. 

No more heady ideas. Hair exposing tanglingly, but one eye. Only perspective. If and if, I can use that hand, push back upon the age of hair, wealth, warmth and blindness. Look!

Where are they now?

Blow!

And we missed the draft.
Calypso. Nirvana. Tree-Stars.
I love you so much it makes me sick.
If I only could, make a deal with god.
Brain.
Brain and hair and going out Saturday to get laid.
Stealing pot-plants off the girl I had a one night stand with.
Needing a plant for my desk.
It all comes back around.

Floral sheets.
Stained meets.
And fair, fair maiden.
Fair enough.
“Just go with anybody”.
The brain,
Brian.
I let you go.
I let you go.
I dropped the ball,
my animosity. My self bait.
Your uncaring words, attribution of wealth and meaning.
Stain on the earth. People mailing to you, cunt.
Crayons.
How’s your dad’s leg? Hip? Knee was it?
Your brother still addicted to ICE?
Yes yes, i’ll hang on.
You call me from the car.
and there you go, coughing in the phone Kaito, like a moron.
Inconsiderate and banal and drole and boring.

Uninspired with the world.
Lost and lame, and buying into the most horrible, jaded bullshit.
and you what? dude? Tell me. What’s your edge exactly?
Red meat. Bad digestion.
I’ll have vegemite tomorrow, no doubt. Dipped in milk.
The contrast.
And Rhizome structure, the great leveler.
ALL IT IS IS A METAPHOR.
Its not real, its not an explanation.
Its a likeness that isn’t the actual thing.
Its an example of what it is, and is not.
It mentions that there are many paths to the logic.
As a sort of tool, attributing to the worlds personification,
Us in the center. Making our chests puff.
Missing the point. Natural or otherwise.
Our broken mechanics.
Missing mechanisms of understanding is decisively, deceiving and divisive in deciding the devilish evidence.
And its another example of what it is.
Its a form, my embarrasment.
My loss, confusion.
My book and tools and crying eyes at shame.
Lost, always, away awash. Sposh, sploosh.
What are you teaching your son?
He’ll be bad. We all are, but you can remedy most.
-I took off your beanie, I declined coffee.

Absolutely, positively great. I am one hundred percent in agreement that what you’re teaching him is worthy, yes.
You think i’m being facetious and sarcastic?
You think it detracts from my ‘Yes and agreement’?
Its-
Its ironic. I agreed so hard you had to question.
My mannerism are different.
My authenticity. My magic of mystery.
The name of the song.
The Hot Hot Heat.
Just a man, with… Suitcase in hand… and a-
perfect plan. *Hollow ending*
Nothing is perfect.

Then I went to Yoga and worried.
worried, worried worried.
Tired now, milk and honey kind.
tickets bought for Dark MoFo,
life ticks over.
My skin is pocker.
My love is bent.
My body’s broken.
Yours is spent.
Carve your name in-
to my arm.
Instead of lost I lay here charmed.

Because there’s nothing else to do.
every me, and every you.
Pluralism.

A tortured life in all of its mediocrity. 

Stop and shake, change, look back and laugh. Shaking hands and limbs.

Looking nice. Nice and shallow.

Feeling dirt under the hands that hold bars. Cordially spewing, asking for help and all that rubbish. Put yourself out there. Pregnancy will stand on your belly and laugh and I will mourn skin that was. Ogle, angle and disposed angrily. Flat shouts of anger, locate loathsome.

Fire rearing listerene. Promise is a fireman kissing a smoke right in a forgotten and ashen forest.

No pixie rings here. Burnt fungus and carcas smoulder. Older and older. 94 and no fucks. If only I could go back and fuel. Furl, that which was unfurled. All those girls,

Tarnishing my resentment and happiness. Freedom is bliss when hypocrisy is veiled. Until i die. Grim as reapers out-pointed finger. Tutor me this. Freedom in movement. Wishing and wailing and angry and free. Rising and falling. Dated, sated and burned. Flesh peeling, rotting, prolonged prowling. Jaw exposed, teeth clattering, snatch, chatter and hanker jangle are limbs.

Elbows and knees. Sharp brittle, black burnt char.

I am

Cancer. I am stars. 

I am

Nothing you are now, but a destined hypocrite

For all.

All time, all people all me. Back breaking. Bliss of sex and suppression. Girls girl girls.

She disconnected from me.I bored her. Bored into her. 

Yes, eyes staring. 

Interlocked. Love-sequel.

Squeezing squeeling thought from squinting squishing square eye.

The sequence of our dance.

Music to my feelings. 

Balm for my shallows.

Crying eyes,

Tiny pupils. Connection.

Blue blue blue. The sky and and the depths. A surprise, and slice of silence that I wanted to fill.

My gauntlet.

Wriggling wants. Cuss and fathom.

Shallows and satellites. 

Synchronous suggestions. 

Saline, salmon smelling.

Slop of some song, girl past. 

I’ll go over this side.

How we doing? 

That’s the way.

Good good.

You on the water mate? 

I thought about a man.

Crying by the end of it.

He said, fired up. And-

Do you want anything? 

Uncomfortable. Beautiful.

My mind turns back to her. 

I shared too much. 

Don’t analyse what I say. 

She said.

OK – I say.
Disconnected. I never checked my phone. It got to me. She went and showered. “You look nice” 

Thanks. – Shakespeare.

Coriolanus, Virtus!