segunda-feira, 20 de julho de 2026

The curiosity you curse

 Optimism in big thighs
I'd pay to see the smile
get smacked across the face to ask
That'll buck me up

I don't beg to grin
I just need to take the edge off
Life gets so serious
a smile that makes me think of kissing

In a world full of opposition
Even those adversaries that I created myself
People I longed to put in their place
Optimism is not those fights

It's seeing you looking back at a strange angle
It's not knowing you at all
But imagining I know you off by heart
It's the underlying feeling you might be disgusted by me

Because I don't fit into this world
Because I stick out like a sore thumb
Because I keep looking a few seconds beyond what is appropriate
You tell yourself what strange foreigner he is...

And yet that smidgeon of curiosity you curse, makes you want to see where I'm at. 

The dead ocean of deception

 When you become nothing
The way I have aspired.
The world swallows you whole.
I grow inspired, but on you there's a toll.
A flooding horrid mire!

Your eyes only see darkening shade,
Dulling Sparks of life's new beginnings.
Feeling begins to fade.
Yet panic cannot be evaded.

In the cold water that scares your heart.
Uncertain underneath, creatures wriggle.
You kick and struggle sanity falls apart,
In the depths of the dark.

Not only to survive,
To resist this watery end.
To feel warmth again.
Deep in deception.

Even in the struggle,
In your personal life failure and unease.
You discover new kinds of emptiness.
Each one a temperature, all freezing.

The dim light beneath heavy clouds,
That crowd the top of this dead ocean.
The icey water that holds you,
All life's reminders and everything at stake.
Dreadful alarm that asks you to wake.

Even when the horizon is blinding black,
You see lies people wear and their subtle attacks.
The sun is still there, behind the dim it's true.
Trying it's hardest to reach out and heal you,
But cheap guises continue to bamboozle.

On the swagger pathway

 On the swagger, close the fist.
Trumpet blower, let me shine a twist.
For you and your curious antagonist.
You climbed down the slope business.
Bragging about a past that never existed.
Landing in a vacant lot, boogie and floss.

I'm not down with your dress code or slang.
The excess of drums your sanctimonious clangs.
I'll not bow politely, or appeal in apology.
I don't admire your strategy, or your biology.
Noise and color flood your euphoria.

Your a fantasy gangboss glorifier.
Colorful language sludge pipe flow.
Use your brain once steroidpump bro.
The word bribery came up, now you're in throes.
Still jacked on false praise pretending not to know.
It's values, or your ego, one has got to go!

In this case you wander round splattering swagger.
Fruit punch puke, party nuke your rise, just a fluke.
Built on sand and the way overpriced rags hang.
All the cosmetics the excessive energetic.
The robbery fails in court you'll flail it was bought
Not sent in the mail, yet you were solid you thought
Ethics died as you grandstand, where's your get out of jail?
Pay another bribe, flex and jibe, avoid getting nailed.



 

(Find out what you believe in that brings quality to your community. stop showing off, you are too old. Find something stable and practical perform if you need to perform building something sturdy. Forget your set of underlying sense of ostentatious bravado, your empty honor that leach your existence away.)

Fooling the breeze

 Standing still
The breeze comes down from hills behind you
Chills you and stiffens you
Dead still, cold reality

Reflecting back a thousand hours
Each one a step down that hill
Yet standing still
Commanding the breeze to cease

Turning to face it
A thousand hours of blended memory
The bush around these hills murmurs
The breeze lapses

It's a cold reality as breeze resurges
It brushes against goosebumped skin
whispers with semblance of inquiring ghost
Why are you smiling?



domingo, 19 de julho de 2026

The face over the sushi lounge

 In The sushi lounge
The police arrived
Happy and hungry
They left slowly

Lethargic and waddling
Back out of the entrance
into the carpark
stuffed and exhausted

Leaving the room messy
tables upset and fish on the floor
Sofas upturned and the heaters turned on
The remains began to rot

The face of an old philosopher comedian appeared
Somewhere near the ceiling
A gray beard and spectacles that made his eyes beady
The overwhelming expression of i told you so

Almost a sparkle then the face disappears
Like a morning mist eaten away by the warm of the day
People gone even the insects scattered toward refuge
The mess remained haunted and uncleanable

The big gray one

 One ton fat gray
Motion of the fat
Muscle rippling parallel
Chomping and grunting

Shifting then bucking with prejudice
It lies back down away from the trough
Rests a minute then shifts again
Lifts its huge body off the bottom of the coral

It bucked and nudged the other cattle
Pushing them this way and that
Apex of the bunch prodding with horns
supple yet lazy big ans stubborn

Chewing and chewing
On the remains of the morning's greenwaste
The other clowning cows came around
Trying to time their chew motion with the big gray one

Bistro bloody center

 My eyes became the sun
The meat was raw and glistened in these eyes i keep.
This meat tasted like grass manure puke.
It's fat had tipped toward rancid 
The bloody center offputting

The waiter was drunk and swaying in his boots
The old lady of the house was cackling and mumbling
Spouting words spontaneously
I paid the two hundred and split

It wasn't file mignon it was just gristle
So left but I hadn't eaten
Behind the cars of the parking lot
sat a cook and a waitress sharing a joint
The smoke smelt like grass manure puke