I´m not supposed to speak to her.
She would certainly shun me.
Push my face into her killing spree.
I´m tongue tied describing her furr.
I shouldn´t dream in the colour of unattainable woman
Such travel in fantasy is unsettling.
I don´t know if providence is threatening!
I shouldn´t ponder killing heaven´s doorman.
I´ll try to ignore that once high muse.
Not going near, she is a killing machine.
Her beating heart is a scorpion infested sand dune.
I won´t seek love where it will be refused.
Where my feelings would be tainted obscene.
Soon she´ll be once again woo´d by some romantic bafoon.
terça-feira, 30 de outubro de 2012
Body cramp(limerick)
Move in this awkward flesh clad skeleton.
Pain I´ll hide behind my god given grin.
I strive for the bright- my world is so dim.
Blood doesn´t flow fast enough to wash sin.
This frame this weight destined for a coffin.
Pain I´ll hide behind my god given grin.
I strive for the bright- my world is so dim.
Blood doesn´t flow fast enough to wash sin.
This frame this weight destined for a coffin.
The spec in your eye(limerick)
The kettle accused the plate, the knife and the fork.
Best refuse cheese if you don´t want to eat chalk!
The black complacent pot is not one to talk,
said the blunt knife to the freshly roast pork.
As the cheap wine burped and launched the plastic cork!
Best refuse cheese if you don´t want to eat chalk!
The black complacent pot is not one to talk,
said the blunt knife to the freshly roast pork.
As the cheap wine burped and launched the plastic cork!
Poetry blackshirt(Sonnet)
Do crude romantic notions about poetry count?
Marching through leading a snobby army.
Does she need to burn the words I´ve been farming?
Can I put out her rage with my sonnet amount?
Why must she slash my rhymes and crouch on them to brown?
She Tramples my moral and extension of meaning in her frenzy.
Marching forward with adour in her totalitarian envy.
Will her animosity throw me to the ground?
Yes I can play by the rules of a fascist,
Who would spit on my work with frothy acid.
Send her constrictive black shirt back.
Yes I can bear her steel knuckled fist.
Who would steal my spark and leave me flacid.
I can bear the blows of her low attacks.
Marching through leading a snobby army.
Does she need to burn the words I´ve been farming?
Can I put out her rage with my sonnet amount?
Why must she slash my rhymes and crouch on them to brown?
She Tramples my moral and extension of meaning in her frenzy.
Marching forward with adour in her totalitarian envy.
Will her animosity throw me to the ground?
Yes I can play by the rules of a fascist,
Who would spit on my work with frothy acid.
Send her constrictive black shirt back.
Yes I can bear her steel knuckled fist.
Who would steal my spark and leave me flacid.
I can bear the blows of her low attacks.
Champions nirvana
I have been punished, published, I have been banned.
Yet i´ve seen the spot between this coconut palm´s roots.
I look not to the form of the skull but for space of time that
was given to the living skeleton.
Thanks true spirits for curving this hopeful hope.
where did you install such potent joy.
How did you capture such fleshy fish
for such a hungry village.
Where did you find such strong ropes,
did god furnish these pretty fields of hemp...
That the naysayers will bomb bragging technology.
And within my limited perception may I one day
percieve you sweet one.
With little wisdom does this life lift toward the brilliant sun.
This sun that´s been so generous.
In the earth of my hand lord.
After being starstruck by demands.
After knowing my own dirt would keep me
from heaven.
From that foul dirt new seeds sprung,
during the seasons a subtle nirvana.
Yet i´ve seen the spot between this coconut palm´s roots.
I look not to the form of the skull but for space of time that
was given to the living skeleton.
Thanks true spirits for curving this hopeful hope.
where did you install such potent joy.
How did you capture such fleshy fish
for such a hungry village.
Where did you find such strong ropes,
did god furnish these pretty fields of hemp...
That the naysayers will bomb bragging technology.
And within my limited perception may I one day
percieve you sweet one.
With little wisdom does this life lift toward the brilliant sun.
This sun that´s been so generous.
In the earth of my hand lord.
After being starstruck by demands.
After knowing my own dirt would keep me
from heaven.
From that foul dirt new seeds sprung,
during the seasons a subtle nirvana.
Likes to brag/haiku
Likes to brag
Covering his hoo haa has to be seen!
This bravado takes real steel nerve.
Know what I mean.
Hugging to destiny, like a toddler and his new teddy
when he turned three.
Do you feel me,
His only time thinking is spent travelling invalid
round trip fantasies!
Pseudo poet´s critic
Sneering retorting-
pedantic thought police bite
such vulgar lipped quips.
Covering his hoo haa has to be seen!
This bravado takes real steel nerve.
Know what I mean.
Hugging to destiny, like a toddler and his new teddy
when he turned three.
Do you feel me,
His only time thinking is spent travelling invalid
round trip fantasies!
Pseudo poet´s critic
Sneering retorting-
pedantic thought police bite
such vulgar lipped quips.
Rusty desert junction
Pada pada pada,
rails lead us through the corrugated
rundown shanty-town.
The darkness toward midnight keeps our
eyes from fixing into the backstreets.
Labyrinths of twisting turning alleyways-
Where laughing and shouting radiate
from small warm taverns.
The train kept moving and pumping
as if triumphant through the
rundown town.
Anticipation had infected us,
we were quite ready for the choo choo
warcry!
Not even the splish of a motor letting
off steam would be heard.
Old tractors and rusted out vans scatter
the railway yards leading all the way out
to the outskirts-
where the wee hours screech into the dusty desert.
rails lead us through the corrugated
rundown shanty-town.
The darkness toward midnight keeps our
eyes from fixing into the backstreets.
Labyrinths of twisting turning alleyways-
Where laughing and shouting radiate
from small warm taverns.
The train kept moving and pumping
as if triumphant through the
rundown town.
Anticipation had infected us,
we were quite ready for the choo choo
warcry!
Not even the splish of a motor letting
off steam would be heard.
Old tractors and rusted out vans scatter
the railway yards leading all the way out
to the outskirts-
where the wee hours screech into the dusty desert.
A slum on fire.Crushed by the tides of scam.
A slum on fire.
Like a man whose life I stole.
Like the stretch of beach hit by the stormy sea.
Anger compacted, confident fury.
Like a man whose point to living was blunted!
Like a man who was taught to kill and by his
masters was abandoned.
Below abandoned factories and prisons
Poverty so dire.
Below the brow like a slum on fire...
His eyes, his eyes.
Crushed by the tides of scam
Once noble and preachy.
Now as corrupt as the devils
lowranking errand scum.
Once honest and righteous
Compassionate and hearty.
Now ground down by the guns
and simple hands that the ruling
class commands.
Like a man whose life I stole.
Like the stretch of beach hit by the stormy sea.
Anger compacted, confident fury.
Like a man whose point to living was blunted!
Like a man who was taught to kill and by his
masters was abandoned.
Below abandoned factories and prisons
Poverty so dire.
Below the brow like a slum on fire...
His eyes, his eyes.
Crushed by the tides of scam
Once noble and preachy.
Now as corrupt as the devils
lowranking errand scum.
Once honest and righteous
Compassionate and hearty.
Now ground down by the guns
and simple hands that the ruling
class commands.
Beachtown Chaos.
The brothers were looking for lazers
in the surf.
They would skate toward beams
and olly off the curbs.
The parties were thrown further than
trust.
Youth is but a streetcar eventually
rusting.
Near the beach by the open creek basin
hot smiles and fuss.
One of the cool kids had a secret and he was
just about to spill his guts.
in the surf.
They would skate toward beams
and olly off the curbs.
The parties were thrown further than
trust.
Youth is but a streetcar eventually
rusting.
Near the beach by the open creek basin
hot smiles and fuss.
One of the cool kids had a secret and he was
just about to spill his guts.
The palm leaf basket.
Remind me where I went wrong.
Point to the spectre in my eye.
Review´s scalding give it to me with tongs.
Like it was fresh out of the frypan.
Rate those rehashed mindless popsongs.
And in the air with your uncaring hands.
You, my rattan basket-
freshly woven not rhyming long.
Mainstream tingle pretender,
most active pharisees fan.
Point to the spectre in my eye.
Review´s scalding give it to me with tongs.
Like it was fresh out of the frypan.
Rate those rehashed mindless popsongs.
And in the air with your uncaring hands.
You, my rattan basket-
freshly woven not rhyming long.
Mainstream tingle pretender,
most active pharisees fan.
Eat beauty
And when your done posing for the camera...
When your done with pretending to have fame, sham.
And when you realize just looking good doesn´t work.
That illusions of the skin won you favour and beggers perks.
And when you starve yourself to keep your body lean
Maybe you´ll realize you can´t eat beauty.
When your done with pretending to have fame, sham.
And when you realize just looking good doesn´t work.
That illusions of the skin won you favour and beggers perks.
And when you starve yourself to keep your body lean
Maybe you´ll realize you can´t eat beauty.
Haiku tale-Labenne/teacher
Poet Labenne.
Glorious set verse.
amplified in hot strata,
and steaming vector.
(A description of Wallace Labennes latest works)
Note: If you don´t know what vector means in the sense please consult a dictionary.
Haiku teacher.
Flaunt understanding-
Comprehension and guidance,
Curi-os-ity
Glorious set verse.
amplified in hot strata,
and steaming vector.
(A description of Wallace Labennes latest works)
Note: If you don´t know what vector means in the sense please consult a dictionary.
Haiku teacher.
Flaunt understanding-
Comprehension and guidance,
Curi-os-ity
Cattle brain-nail
Consumer living is a brain nail.
Ever get the feeling you´ve been herded.
You´ve been surrepticiously brought
to a conclusion.
Sign up, enroll you become a member
of something where the word member
has no meaning.
You, like survey counted millions choose to like
and dislike.
You are guided down the trail
toward the sound of the "Twack"!
Though it´s not your brain they´re piercing
to make you into meat.
It´s your flimsy soul.
Ever get the feeling you´ve been herded.
You´ve been surrepticiously brought
to a conclusion.
Sign up, enroll you become a member
of something where the word member
has no meaning.
You, like survey counted millions choose to like
and dislike.
You are guided down the trail
toward the sound of the "Twack"!
Though it´s not your brain they´re piercing
to make you into meat.
It´s your flimsy soul.
Pull a fast on(dagnash prayer)
Pool a wet one
after the bellow storm.
Pull a fast one
Exiting the clouds.
Peel the last one
of those siamese lichese.
Forgive the lightening.
Hail the moist ground.
And worship the hangover in the sky.
after the bellow storm.
Pull a fast one
Exiting the clouds.
Peel the last one
of those siamese lichese.
Forgive the lightening.
Hail the moist ground.
And worship the hangover in the sky.
Where is my zen?
Where´s my zen?
The irritations of the new week.
The hand raised ready to tap the cheek.
The outbursts of a dastardly nature.
Why be we such problematic creatures?
Arguement brings punctually exhaustion
on a tray.
Quarrel follows arguement with cauldrons
of disarray.
How far does the calm tranquilty of premidlife
extend?
Under the boot of the universe with my zen.
The irritations of the new week.
The hand raised ready to tap the cheek.
The outbursts of a dastardly nature.
Why be we such problematic creatures?
Arguement brings punctually exhaustion
on a tray.
Quarrel follows arguement with cauldrons
of disarray.
How far does the calm tranquilty of premidlife
extend?
Under the boot of the universe with my zen.
Ousted
I used to be smiled upon there,
now I have a new job.
Warming,
where I used to work I loved my students.
I would silently celebrate them.
Cool now,
They have cut my classes so
I´m working at my new job.
The smiles and backpats
have made feel welcome!
I am once again in,
after slowly being ousted
I put my faith in my new job.
now I have a new job.
Warming,
where I used to work I loved my students.
I would silently celebrate them.
Cool now,
They have cut my classes so
I´m working at my new job.
The smiles and backpats
have made feel welcome!
I am once again in,
after slowly being ousted
I put my faith in my new job.
segunda-feira, 22 de outubro de 2012
The pessimists dead.
They were dry skin,
I was a snake.
Now the smiley face
squirms along the pavement.
The rattling shoes that show
I now accept life.
Yes the fresh snake
forgiving the world.
The innocent,
The easy to influence
I was a snake.
Now the smiley face
squirms along the pavement.
The rattling shoes that show
I now accept life.
Yes the fresh snake
forgiving the world.
The innocent,
The easy to influence
Troubled poet.
The trouble rips out of our skin,
in seconds of being triggered.
The trouble that clings to us
in those unnecessary free hours between writing.
A trouble that I can tell you turns my rhymeless work
into unreadable drivel.
There´s a heinous peace that smells of a
corpse at war.
The blackened veins write of
thoughts and angles
that leaves the optimist raw.
in seconds of being triggered.
The trouble that clings to us
in those unnecessary free hours between writing.
A trouble that I can tell you turns my rhymeless work
into unreadable drivel.
There´s a heinous peace that smells of a
corpse at war.
The blackened veins write of
thoughts and angles
that leaves the optimist raw.
The green/sensing effect.
I have spammed all over the computer,
without even logging into B and D
like a poetry master bading.
I have thanked the same low rating
five times and counting.
I have sensed an overload
of comments.
A de ja vu dominates
with an environmental conscience
still learning to spell.
A big red vindictive orchid whose reviews
are to give low rating reviewers h3ll.
Now get your revenge.
without even logging into B and D
like a poetry master bading.
I have thanked the same low rating
five times and counting.
I have sensed an overload
of comments.
A de ja vu dominates
with an environmental conscience
still learning to spell.
A big red vindictive orchid whose reviews
are to give low rating reviewers h3ll.
Now get your revenge.
My critic´s fear.
I bathe in the ideas of this crisis
stricken world.
I wash myself and drain the water.
The new dry will cull us till
corruption is fully thwarted.
Because the cloud makers
have run out of rain dust.
Yet my creativity flows in torrents to grey
dull critics fuss,
they get lost and busted in the rapids.
And devoured by salmon swiping bears.
Yes my free unique-verse keeps the cycle
of life feared,
rolling round like the hands on a clock.
The epitomy of poetry critic´s shock.
stricken world.
I wash myself and drain the water.
The new dry will cull us till
corruption is fully thwarted.
Because the cloud makers
have run out of rain dust.
Yet my creativity flows in torrents to grey
dull critics fuss,
they get lost and busted in the rapids.
And devoured by salmon swiping bears.
Yes my free unique-verse keeps the cycle
of life feared,
rolling round like the hands on a clock.
The epitomy of poetry critic´s shock.
Ye of lil faith
When my time comes it´ll be ugly! and the hounds of hell will have to
haggle if they don´t know i´m poisonous gristle! 200 times the poet. the
real salt content of the sea in my rhyme up and verse. How this brain
that hasn´t gone indonesian rat-monkey shit wrong.
How this brain that the shadows thought they owned comes up as the best container for the armagaeddon mind.
The mind that´ll insidiously have the yee of lil´ faith stricken with shock to the day my rhymes bounce off the walls near your house like my anger.
Popshit spewed and repeated like some rabied dog that´s owner intoxicated it.
yeah when my time comes I´ll fight tooth and nail
How this brain that the shadows thought they owned comes up as the best container for the armagaeddon mind.
The mind that´ll insidiously have the yee of lil´ faith stricken with shock to the day my rhymes bounce off the walls near your house like my anger.
Popshit spewed and repeated like some rabied dog that´s owner intoxicated it.
yeah when my time comes I´ll fight tooth and nail
Such a beautiful word is mayhem
I see the streets full of latchkey kids
with sticks and rocks and words
that shock.
What a beautiful word mayhem is.
The front of the demonstration
becomes riled and violent and the naysayers worship.
Horse bound police run through the crowd leaving broken boned
vagabonds for the latenighters to clean.
What a hefty price the public voice ticks up.
Such a beautiful word "mayhem"!
with sticks and rocks and words
that shock.
What a beautiful word mayhem is.
The front of the demonstration
becomes riled and violent and the naysayers worship.
Horse bound police run through the crowd leaving broken boned
vagabonds for the latenighters to clean.
What a hefty price the public voice ticks up.
Such a beautiful word "mayhem"!
A piece to profit/porcupine
A piece to profit from.
I took a piece of you to go.
The skin absorbed it.
What a rush.
And how I went about it is like voodoo.
And how I went about it is forbidden even to
blasphemous script.
And where I went in dreams to gather my discovery,
Will surprise the most the most mundane con of the
lot.
Porcupine of poetry.
The pricks have spoken
and they´re all on my back.
I roll into a ball and take out the tomcats
trying to paw at these lil spiky souls
I picked up on the way.
You´ll never get me into the well,
into the hole.
I´ll be here sincere and sinister
as cut moons often bleed.
I took a piece of you to go.
The skin absorbed it.
What a rush.
And how I went about it is like voodoo.
And how I went about it is forbidden even to
blasphemous script.
And where I went in dreams to gather my discovery,
Will surprise the most the most mundane con of the
lot.
Porcupine of poetry.
The pricks have spoken
and they´re all on my back.
I roll into a ball and take out the tomcats
trying to paw at these lil spiky souls
I picked up on the way.
You´ll never get me into the well,
into the hole.
I´ll be here sincere and sinister
as cut moons often bleed.
Lobbies and malls
It´s not dice on my mind.
No where´s the real walker´s of the talk
And where there´s the martyrs of the cause above?
The pretense and the pose of the rosey rich,
want a piece?
No longer will the path of the righteous affect you
as you fall to the side as a zombie consumer as
the noone army making it to the side of hell
with not much more in the pocket
than a wad of cash for their personal crap.
No where´s the real walker´s of the talk
And where there´s the martyrs of the cause above?
The pretense and the pose of the rosey rich,
want a piece?
No longer will the path of the righteous affect you
as you fall to the side as a zombie consumer as
the noone army making it to the side of hell
with not much more in the pocket
than a wad of cash for their personal crap.
Drizzle resistance(cli´driz.)
How painful to forget how to celebrate.
How mundane as weather´s manager
sends a crappy sky for the feast.
Unwilling to open my own hand in
generosity.
Some inconsistant will to be lively
calms on the very day it should inspire.
The dreb sky just seems to show the next
few days as a bad omen.
The late information split plans
and threw away my
idle-time breaking hammers.
Oh the dim light and lack of interest.
Forcing a joke would only liberate
the nearest eye to tears.
How mundane as weather´s manager
sends a crappy sky for the feast.
Unwilling to open my own hand in
generosity.
Some inconsistant will to be lively
calms on the very day it should inspire.
The dreb sky just seems to show the next
few days as a bad omen.
The late information split plans
and threw away my
idle-time breaking hammers.
Oh the dim light and lack of interest.
Forcing a joke would only liberate
the nearest eye to tears.
sudden neighbour/cotton wanting
Sudden neighbour
What are you doing here?
Hey ashtray head my house is not a
borrow lot.
You didn´t even ring the doorbell.
Your grin and humour are soot and snot.
I´m not crocadile dundee and this is not
the outback.
whipped cream and cotton wanting
You´ve made me supreme
through the fabric of envy.
You´ve whipped my creme only
now it´s frisky and mixed.
The softness of your desire
can still be felt like a cobweb
on your skin.
The cotton of your wanting
can only be described as wonton
picante.
I fit myself into a conceited suit
with a sheen.
Your mindless eyes follow my
path like little programmed machines.
What are you doing here?
Hey ashtray head my house is not a
borrow lot.
You didn´t even ring the doorbell.
Your grin and humour are soot and snot.
I´m not crocadile dundee and this is not
the outback.
whipped cream and cotton wanting
You´ve made me supreme
through the fabric of envy.
You´ve whipped my creme only
now it´s frisky and mixed.
The softness of your desire
can still be felt like a cobweb
on your skin.
The cotton of your wanting
can only be described as wonton
picante.
I fit myself into a conceited suit
with a sheen.
Your mindless eyes follow my
path like little programmed machines.
Quizzle/haikupop
Quizzle
Finding the abandoned shop where sid vicious´ soul
still resides.
On that road the conman tricks the motorists,
then escapes into a large gothic church with great big
schist steps.
Going down the steps into the foyer-
You get to know the true meaning of solemn.
Pop poet haiku
Popularity
Is what some poets crave too much!
But do they love words?
Finding the abandoned shop where sid vicious´ soul
still resides.
On that road the conman tricks the motorists,
then escapes into a large gothic church with great big
schist steps.
Going down the steps into the foyer-
You get to know the true meaning of solemn.
Pop poet haiku
Popularity
Is what some poets crave too much!
But do they love words?
Below heaven
The dregs of society usually gather again
at the end of mis-spent lives.
My best friend was there mouth a frenzy with
car motor jargon and thumbs up.
He suddenly attacked me out of the blue
with a steel pipe, the wind seemed to warn me.
Though my hand stung all the same from fending it off.
I asked him why, alas like a zombie he turned back
to his dregs like a zombie.
What a world full of garages and broken down 1990
model cars. This world below heaven.
I pondered this and how to get out-
when "bang" my friend was back with a saw
trying to cut off my arm.
I grabbed a nearby drill and worked it into his throat
I never could understand that surprised look in his eyes.
at the end of mis-spent lives.
My best friend was there mouth a frenzy with
car motor jargon and thumbs up.
He suddenly attacked me out of the blue
with a steel pipe, the wind seemed to warn me.
Though my hand stung all the same from fending it off.
I asked him why, alas like a zombie he turned back
to his dregs like a zombie.
What a world full of garages and broken down 1990
model cars. This world below heaven.
I pondered this and how to get out-
when "bang" my friend was back with a saw
trying to cut off my arm.
I grabbed a nearby drill and worked it into his throat
I never could understand that surprised look in his eyes.
The sultan´s concubines.
Twin harletts splashed out and let themselves go
in the sultans holiday house with crack cocaine.
The purple sultan grinned at the twin whores
exchanging drugs and nefarious smiles.
The purple sultan had to own everything
as he convinced his guest the revolutionary
to partake.
The revolutionary turned as purple and fanatic
as the sultan as they talked of democracy in the
middle east.
in the sultans holiday house with crack cocaine.
The purple sultan grinned at the twin whores
exchanging drugs and nefarious smiles.
The purple sultan had to own everything
as he convinced his guest the revolutionary
to partake.
The revolutionary turned as purple and fanatic
as the sultan as they talked of democracy in the
middle east.
Losing teeth/insomniac
Losing teeth
There was something wrong with the way I looked.
The man in pretty colours had to say as his head shook.
Before he pranced like a ballet dancer
and pulled every tooth from my mouth,
He asked me what kind of music I preferrred.
Insomniac mind
I crashed the truck on sleep´s highway.
Got to work late.
The dog nose and cat eyes reluctant.
Outside the haunted children´s school.
The dog and cat would escape like my soul
and roam the night through.
The physical me would sit with the neglected spirits
and manipulate time.
There was something wrong with the way I looked.
The man in pretty colours had to say as his head shook.
Before he pranced like a ballet dancer
and pulled every tooth from my mouth,
He asked me what kind of music I preferrred.
Insomniac mind
I crashed the truck on sleep´s highway.
Got to work late.
The dog nose and cat eyes reluctant.
Outside the haunted children´s school.
The dog and cat would escape like my soul
and roam the night through.
The physical me would sit with the neglected spirits
and manipulate time.
Lewandowski
Did they sweeten your life,
or threaten your family?
Or were you always secretly part of the
scheming leading to calamity.
How you inspire the population to apathy.
You wrote corruption in three languages
with your pen of strategy.
Invited Satan to rape the little good left
in the yellow green and blue.
There´s no known cost to the people of these
humble states and cities.
That you betrayed with your colluding atrocity.
You may have let some of Brazil´s most
crooked politicians walk.
But I sentence you to an eternal world of
shame.
Explain to god, he treats all the devil´s
employees the same.
or threaten your family?
Or were you always secretly part of the
scheming leading to calamity.
How you inspire the population to apathy.
You wrote corruption in three languages
with your pen of strategy.
Invited Satan to rape the little good left
in the yellow green and blue.
There´s no known cost to the people of these
humble states and cities.
That you betrayed with your colluding atrocity.
You may have let some of Brazil´s most
crooked politicians walk.
But I sentence you to an eternal world of
shame.
Explain to god, he treats all the devil´s
employees the same.
Mel and bruce
Mel Gibson threw the flamming invader
shrieking to the bottom of the gorge.
Death lived in his eyes until vengence was
delivered.
The brook from where the flamming body was
extinguished was blackened.
A strange foreign disease formed on his hand.
It made it´s way up his arm like a snake up a branch.
His suffering expression raised some eyebrows.
Suddenly hebrew markings appeared on his hand
burning his sweaty lordlike flesh.
Clear like the bald heroe he is, the cool okay.
The subtle screw you and all resounding
yipee kai yay!
Semi cynic, with eyes on the fiend.
The american dollar smile it´s price tag
waving on the dream.
Eternal streetcop, unlucky foreigners ask why.
Happy go smacky, clear simple attempt at macho.
A submachine gun mumble, comic grumble-
lucky go happy partner slapstick stumbles.
Explosions and puns.
So lift your glass to the stalloschwarzdamme and
the rest of the brainless musclemen of the past.
shrieking to the bottom of the gorge.
Death lived in his eyes until vengence was
delivered.
The brook from where the flamming body was
extinguished was blackened.
A strange foreign disease formed on his hand.
It made it´s way up his arm like a snake up a branch.
His suffering expression raised some eyebrows.
Suddenly hebrew markings appeared on his hand
burning his sweaty lordlike flesh.
Clear like the bald heroe he is, the cool okay.
The subtle screw you and all resounding
yipee kai yay!
Semi cynic, with eyes on the fiend.
The american dollar smile it´s price tag
waving on the dream.
Eternal streetcop, unlucky foreigners ask why.
Happy go smacky, clear simple attempt at macho.
A submachine gun mumble, comic grumble-
lucky go happy partner slapstick stumbles.
Explosions and puns.
So lift your glass to the stalloschwarzdamme and
the rest of the brainless musclemen of the past.
Wrestling with a slaphappy donkey.
Into the sandy gym.
An exconvict teaches us the basics.
The punching bag sways in a way and the simple punch
seems to catch the attention of the simple vagabonds.
On the side of the gym in the filth I sit watching
As the future of our betting money moves and dodges.
Some poor criminals appear out of the debree and
broken equipment offering me alcohol they´d brewed
themselves.
My impusion to write,
I´m mystified by my own will to word and phrase.
Rhymes hurtle out of me, I´m holding the reigns of
this burro so it doesn´t prattle like gumpy.
My my... fellow poets, I would fain become a contender
if it weren´t for my interloping tone and
slaphappy donkey.
(Richard azevedo a long time colleague of mine who never ceases to inspire me has taken up the donkey challenge! Anyone else can too just leave some quirky note in the comments of this poem or richards poem the pinnochio poet to you newbies. Just write a poem about newbies I mean donkeys.)
An exconvict teaches us the basics.
The punching bag sways in a way and the simple punch
seems to catch the attention of the simple vagabonds.
On the side of the gym in the filth I sit watching
As the future of our betting money moves and dodges.
Some poor criminals appear out of the debree and
broken equipment offering me alcohol they´d brewed
themselves.
My impusion to write,
I´m mystified by my own will to word and phrase.
Rhymes hurtle out of me, I´m holding the reigns of
this burro so it doesn´t prattle like gumpy.
My my... fellow poets, I would fain become a contender
if it weren´t for my interloping tone and
slaphappy donkey.
(Richard azevedo a long time colleague of mine who never ceases to inspire me has taken up the donkey challenge! Anyone else can too just leave some quirky note in the comments of this poem or richards poem the pinnochio poet to you newbies. Just write a poem about newbies I mean donkeys.)
Thursday date.
Sundown is silky.
The hill we live on goes down to the road
which will take us to the restaurant on
thursday.
The last sun spots hurry you as you grab your purse.
Will heaven be like this if our sins are forgiven?
Yes the soft warm breeze that a late caressing summer
would give you is washing us as we walk down to the car.
This warm night will contain us and hopefully invite some joy
and spark to the dining table of our choice.
The hill we live on goes down to the road
which will take us to the restaurant on
thursday.
The last sun spots hurry you as you grab your purse.
Will heaven be like this if our sins are forgiven?
Yes the soft warm breeze that a late caressing summer
would give you is washing us as we walk down to the car.
This warm night will contain us and hopefully invite some joy
and spark to the dining table of our choice.
Poets of the world
There are real world class poets in the world!
I´m extremely serious.
Poetry is my life and more than thirty poets can be compared with the greats of last century.
Just because we can´t get our stuff published unless we pay for it ourselves doesn´t mean our stuffs not exquisite.
The poets I will mention are serious, they are some of the best in the world.
Tamborra and Labenne are up there, Ludy Buhrs and Miehle, Coates is getting really good, there are some excellent mystic Indian poets like Divya and kandangath, Farida and Elias even a man whose poetry is recieving more and more acclaim Clifton and Richard Santos. I´m a great admirer of Asim Nehal and even the rather ordinary Tj Hatton, I´ve always had a softspot for the works of Richard Acevedo now that is a passionate poet. Yvonne sensing and Geslany ging have charm. We are the real poets, Khalil your stuff is horrific in a good way, look at all the poets all of them are a real pleasure to read and call friends.
Mathilde Dumas an exceptional poet one of
my favourite poets. She turns me on with her words!
All of you have the talent to be published.
These are in my opinion some of the best in the world...
Joyce carol, Eman Saif, surhdique, Doina mican, Muhammad naveed,
Animus vox.
Some of the poets I love are...
James barnett, Emile, barbara cardogan, Paul harmon Gino valentine, Felipe chacon.
There is special talent in somalian guy, Gabriel Mican, Jon Otano.
Perhaps I have missed one or two and that would make me sad.
We must support everyone here!
Poets, if there is a real poet out there that I missed please mention them to me.
I´m extremely serious.
Poetry is my life and more than thirty poets can be compared with the greats of last century.
Just because we can´t get our stuff published unless we pay for it ourselves doesn´t mean our stuffs not exquisite.
The poets I will mention are serious, they are some of the best in the world.
Tamborra and Labenne are up there, Ludy Buhrs and Miehle, Coates is getting really good, there are some excellent mystic Indian poets like Divya and kandangath, Farida and Elias even a man whose poetry is recieving more and more acclaim Clifton and Richard Santos. I´m a great admirer of Asim Nehal and even the rather ordinary Tj Hatton, I´ve always had a softspot for the works of Richard Acevedo now that is a passionate poet. Yvonne sensing and Geslany ging have charm. We are the real poets, Khalil your stuff is horrific in a good way, look at all the poets all of them are a real pleasure to read and call friends.
Mathilde Dumas an exceptional poet one of
my favourite poets. She turns me on with her words!
All of you have the talent to be published.
These are in my opinion some of the best in the world...
Joyce carol, Eman Saif, surhdique, Doina mican, Muhammad naveed,
Animus vox.
Some of the poets I love are...
James barnett, Emile, barbara cardogan, Paul harmon Gino valentine, Felipe chacon.
There is special talent in somalian guy, Gabriel Mican, Jon Otano.
Perhaps I have missed one or two and that would make me sad.
We must support everyone here!
Poets, if there is a real poet out there that I missed please mention them to me.
Cooled heart.
Some hearts are ruled by crude systems.
Unable to stay whole through it all.
Tightening and turning their owners
into miserable pessimists.
The very flesh of the organ is moulded
into a refridgerated vindictive pump.
Love´s strange presense is tolerated
until real life instigates doubt.
Unable to stay whole through it all.
Tightening and turning their owners
into miserable pessimists.
The very flesh of the organ is moulded
into a refridgerated vindictive pump.
Love´s strange presense is tolerated
until real life instigates doubt.
Cool lab
Master in the calm breezy room,
I´m the dissecting room-taming maimer.
I´m the accent applier the visions and fiscal
blot connector.
The fear and admiration send green and yellow to
my halo.
I pronounce the wind and scatter the voice of
frenzied celebration.
I´m the man in the cool lab the vigio.
The vigilant the ever watching ever hearing,
Connector.
I´m the dissecting room-taming maimer.
I´m the accent applier the visions and fiscal
blot connector.
The fear and admiration send green and yellow to
my halo.
I pronounce the wind and scatter the voice of
frenzied celebration.
I´m the man in the cool lab the vigio.
The vigilant the ever watching ever hearing,
Connector.
The guppyman Rup
This poet tells of prohibited cheese.
The guppyman ruppy and happy
rhymes at ease.
His style is all quite simple.
Handlebar beard hides dimples.
He´s an artistic squeeze
the oververse ankle tapping sample.
Treehugging like me.
The mouse ran in the house
was once his greatest line,
now he´s taking us by tempest
with something extra in his rhyme.
When he started his stuff really stank.
Now he´s getting fresh between the critical ranks!
Keep it up guppman, ruppy it up until it´s all blue
in the face.
The guppyman ruppy and happy
rhymes at ease.
His style is all quite simple.
Handlebar beard hides dimples.
He´s an artistic squeeze
the oververse ankle tapping sample.
Treehugging like me.
The mouse ran in the house
was once his greatest line,
now he´s taking us by tempest
with something extra in his rhyme.
When he started his stuff really stank.
Now he´s getting fresh between the critical ranks!
Keep it up guppman, ruppy it up until it´s all blue
in the face.
scraping Wallace La Benne
Scraping wallace La benne
OOhh I´ve seen your critics.
Some howling bunch of self destructive
cave dwelling, wristcut braggers.
Scuttling in the dark near the exit
after the twostar rating.
Wicked and dressed in dark sooty rags and screeching
when there is no reason.
Hidiously leaping from the darkness onto your page...
It´s a heavy shield I raised and let fall for the weight of it
and it broke my own foot. They scraped you.
They were attempting to scrape your gingerbeard.
Yet my handy cutlass rose like the sun on these
darkness worshipping lilith spawn.
And their twos and ones were given sharply shaped
abstract comments.
They shrieked before their keyboards, shaking and shivering
for my words were luminous and dug down.
Their purple clothes burnt off and they were naked.
Lickedy split they scuttled further into the cave
pleasing the grand dragon and leaving you Labenne in peace.
OOhh I´ve seen your critics.
Some howling bunch of self destructive
cave dwelling, wristcut braggers.
Scuttling in the dark near the exit
after the twostar rating.
Wicked and dressed in dark sooty rags and screeching
when there is no reason.
Hidiously leaping from the darkness onto your page...
It´s a heavy shield I raised and let fall for the weight of it
and it broke my own foot. They scraped you.
They were attempting to scrape your gingerbeard.
Yet my handy cutlass rose like the sun on these
darkness worshipping lilith spawn.
And their twos and ones were given sharply shaped
abstract comments.
They shrieked before their keyboards, shaking and shivering
for my words were luminous and dug down.
Their purple clothes burnt off and they were naked.
Lickedy split they scuttled further into the cave
pleasing the grand dragon and leaving you Labenne in peace.
domingo, 14 de outubro de 2012
Homs to Aleppo
Syria is seriously seperated
by the...
Delirious dictator who dishes out death.
Blanketing blocks in bombs.
Rigging russian rockets.
Vigourous violence like a virus
voraciously enveloping the land.
A small box of frag grenades and
some battered smg´s.
The kids appear at the window
already aiming on their knees.
As spickity-spacks hit walls and rooves down the road,
a shell takes off and finds the house nextdoor to explode in.
The kid soldiers scatter and scrammble under burnt and broken
furniture,
Just in time as the APC moves past with eyes above rifles
into the messy concrete steel mixtures,
meanwhile the city lends ears to the bombardment´s
insisting overture.
The guntoting kids relocate to the outskirts as blast after blast
Aleppo´s streets and structures rupture.
by the...
Delirious dictator who dishes out death.
Blanketing blocks in bombs.
Rigging russian rockets.
Vigourous violence like a virus
voraciously enveloping the land.
A small box of frag grenades and
some battered smg´s.
The kids appear at the window
already aiming on their knees.
As spickity-spacks hit walls and rooves down the road,
a shell takes off and finds the house nextdoor to explode in.
The kid soldiers scatter and scrammble under burnt and broken
furniture,
Just in time as the APC moves past with eyes above rifles
into the messy concrete steel mixtures,
meanwhile the city lends ears to the bombardment´s
insisting overture.
The guntoting kids relocate to the outskirts as blast after blast
Aleppo´s streets and structures rupture.
The miracle of interruption
Outside next to the pond in the flower scented air.
My aunt asked me if I was capable
of building on the new idea.
I said yes with the tone of "how could you even ask".
Suddenly my son Phil came out to provoke her.
The air and the sun must have woken him.
As we went in for lunch I was told
the month of may had come to visit me in person.
He was interrupted at every word by my impatient son.
And left before the great breakfast.
Before me were the scribbles of my son,
and how he quibbled stunned me.
Neither the paradise sun
or the heavenly air would calm that boy.
Blankets coated in sleeping agent and soft
rock music wouldn´t put him to sleep.
My aunt asked me if I was capable
of building on the new idea.
I said yes with the tone of "how could you even ask".
Suddenly my son Phil came out to provoke her.
The air and the sun must have woken him.
As we went in for lunch I was told
the month of may had come to visit me in person.
He was interrupted at every word by my impatient son.
And left before the great breakfast.
Before me were the scribbles of my son,
and how he quibbled stunned me.
Neither the paradise sun
or the heavenly air would calm that boy.
Blankets coated in sleeping agent and soft
rock music wouldn´t put him to sleep.
Lack of deepness
You say profound but through it
I see your worn plastic surfboard
the hidden mirror.
The drugs you take all so small but on the night so big.
See them put you places that the mind reserved for surfing.
See you put them in the cookie box.
There´s nothing left of your sweet mind.
Contemplating these sugar like ideas.
These lovely bunny neon signs
that´ll keep your image for less then a hundred hours.
Celebrity now icing coke.
You somehow profound?
Or just the snorter the backdoor hoard found
and put out with the glimm and glamm scatter.
Your lack of deepness, swimming...
means kneedeep aqua dim.
I see your worn plastic surfboard
the hidden mirror.
The drugs you take all so small but on the night so big.
See them put you places that the mind reserved for surfing.
See you put them in the cookie box.
There´s nothing left of your sweet mind.
Contemplating these sugar like ideas.
These lovely bunny neon signs
that´ll keep your image for less then a hundred hours.
Celebrity now icing coke.
You somehow profound?
Or just the snorter the backdoor hoard found
and put out with the glimm and glamm scatter.
Your lack of deepness, swimming...
means kneedeep aqua dim.
exorcism
No longer sneaking up there by the sofa.
No longer do I hear the knocks...
My silly ritual put you away in that angels or devils box.
Yeah you wanted to dance near the table and pop out
somewhere near me.
I put it to you without humour remind you there´s no end.
That was that and you disappeared.
What ever happened to the supernatural fear,
pretty mediocre if you ask me.
And Out I went hand stretched and put the matter
to rest now be it try.
I got all of you burned shouted and you´re still alive.
Everyone gets a piece of this action I´m hideous.
My very rhyme creeps up sneaky and insidious.
No longer do I hear the knocks...
My silly ritual put you away in that angels or devils box.
Yeah you wanted to dance near the table and pop out
somewhere near me.
I put it to you without humour remind you there´s no end.
That was that and you disappeared.
What ever happened to the supernatural fear,
pretty mediocre if you ask me.
And Out I went hand stretched and put the matter
to rest now be it try.
I got all of you burned shouted and you´re still alive.
Everyone gets a piece of this action I´m hideous.
My very rhyme creeps up sneaky and insidious.
Offensive squid poo-elite
Slimey ocean cruiser.
Oh diarrhea came shooting out you like
your lucky lotto ball.
Sharks stayed as far as the bay.
I´d just like to say shrimp paste
in your belly button for five days,
wouldn´t describe the taste of the
water after the squid fart butt lid liquid in the middle
of a school of conservative conformer fish.
Nasal raisin reason up in that cumsock.
Seafood in you afrodisiac.
And I sent squiddles the spicy soft turd from
ripe shiny squid stocks,
Break your hardshell
and eat you out on the easter of oyster plenty.
Got a swordfish for hire, use the spire
get in and rent this for hire, I know how to treat the fine sushi
with salty icky wicky seaweed.
Oh diarrhea came shooting out you like
your lucky lotto ball.
Sharks stayed as far as the bay.
I´d just like to say shrimp paste
in your belly button for five days,
wouldn´t describe the taste of the
water after the squid fart butt lid liquid in the middle
of a school of conservative conformer fish.
Nasal raisin reason up in that cumsock.
Seafood in you afrodisiac.
And I sent squiddles the spicy soft turd from
ripe shiny squid stocks,
Break your hardshell
and eat you out on the easter of oyster plenty.
Got a swordfish for hire, use the spire
get in and rent this for hire, I know how to treat the fine sushi
with salty icky wicky seaweed.
Heaven closes for the day.
The young boy gets into the tube water slide
and has a great time screaming and wailing
all the way down.
The addrenaline waking the nerves.
Mum and dad outside
waiting anxiously for their little one to come out the otherside.
But he doesn´t come out.
Apart from some small gap that lets the water flow out the exit
is sealed shut and the boy hits the plastic wall with a thud.
The humidity and the shock from the impact dizzy him.
As he comes to and realizes how much trouble he´s in,
the slide has no way out...
And down comes the next kid...
"Whack" heads and elbows collide, now ones bleeding from the tooth and the other from the head.
"weee" the next child took a running jump and seems to be moving
much faster than normal,
"Boom" this impact was very excrutiating for the
kids who were already wailing from pain and fright.
As the parents outside started to become concerned with their
little babies, it was too late.
Dozens of kids suffocated in there...
The luke warm water carrying their essence away.
and has a great time screaming and wailing
all the way down.
The addrenaline waking the nerves.
Mum and dad outside
waiting anxiously for their little one to come out the otherside.
But he doesn´t come out.
Apart from some small gap that lets the water flow out the exit
is sealed shut and the boy hits the plastic wall with a thud.
The humidity and the shock from the impact dizzy him.
As he comes to and realizes how much trouble he´s in,
the slide has no way out...
And down comes the next kid...
"Whack" heads and elbows collide, now ones bleeding from the tooth and the other from the head.
"weee" the next child took a running jump and seems to be moving
much faster than normal,
"Boom" this impact was very excrutiating for the
kids who were already wailing from pain and fright.
As the parents outside started to become concerned with their
little babies, it was too late.
Dozens of kids suffocated in there...
The luke warm water carrying their essence away.
Abbadon love
I managed to exit Abbadon intact.
Being born what a shiner.
To see another outcast and wench would
fetch me a living.
Love was pretend and everytime it got near being real
It was crushed infront of me.
I became the old semi elite subterranean fiend again.
The grief I give my folks now.
I couldn´t stand to hold a simple conversation.
Infact a sharp knife found it´s way into my hands.
I´d cut them off forever my conscience said.
What a pity it was just last week I began to pray again.
now god was a friendly motorist forbidden to drive
on my highway.
South of Abbadon and the predatory and condemned
run through and the vehicles they drive are purely built
for destruction.
Yes this love I once had hurt me but held me.
Now the only sustainance I can extract from life is through
potent abandon.
Being born what a shiner.
To see another outcast and wench would
fetch me a living.
Love was pretend and everytime it got near being real
It was crushed infront of me.
I became the old semi elite subterranean fiend again.
The grief I give my folks now.
I couldn´t stand to hold a simple conversation.
Infact a sharp knife found it´s way into my hands.
I´d cut them off forever my conscience said.
What a pity it was just last week I began to pray again.
now god was a friendly motorist forbidden to drive
on my highway.
South of Abbadon and the predatory and condemned
run through and the vehicles they drive are purely built
for destruction.
Yes this love I once had hurt me but held me.
Now the only sustainance I can extract from life is through
potent abandon.
The climate
Look what we´ve set up for you here.
These boxes with dials and buttons
all for you to combat fear.
These pictures and models to get you thinking.
These ideas that we share with you to
flood your brain till it´s ready to sink.
Feel our suggestion´s soft rain.
Feel our surroundings whispers
and trance like rhythm in your vains.
Don´t have a heartattack...
It´s just to get you into the climate.
These boxes with dials and buttons
all for you to combat fear.
These pictures and models to get you thinking.
These ideas that we share with you to
flood your brain till it´s ready to sink.
Feel our suggestion´s soft rain.
Feel our surroundings whispers
and trance like rhythm in your vains.
Don´t have a heartattack...
It´s just to get you into the climate.
Childhood bedroom
My raft through infancy,
my church as a child.
My prison as an adolescent.
Some stable space that lost appeal
with age.
I´d be there looking for refuge
when god wanted me up on stage.
The walls would be soaked in me.
The ceiling haunted by my nightmares
and dreams.
my church as a child.
My prison as an adolescent.
Some stable space that lost appeal
with age.
I´d be there looking for refuge
when god wanted me up on stage.
The walls would be soaked in me.
The ceiling haunted by my nightmares
and dreams.
Solitary rhyme#1
The hours of pen on paper, ah.
Dykes through the mind.
I´m knee deep in spiral ideas.
premeditating rhyme, alone with ghost tips.
The pale day outside wraps the house
in another layer of lonliness.
Dykes through the mind.
I´m knee deep in spiral ideas.
premeditating rhyme, alone with ghost tips.
The pale day outside wraps the house
in another layer of lonliness.
Solitary thorn#2
The dying leaf relief.
the post storm silence.
inquisitions preparation void.
No whispers, yet the murmur...
Of spider webs being woven and dust collecting.
It all just inspires the poets next line.
the post storm silence.
inquisitions preparation void.
No whispers, yet the murmur...
Of spider webs being woven and dust collecting.
It all just inspires the poets next line.
The short gap
Pidgeon holed,
Judged with but a gap of wiggle room.
On the line you´ve summed me up
into a person of this genre.
I can reach into you
showing you how complex I am.
When after your intestine is fully extended.
My very spirit awakens your convulsing body.
So in the last minute of your merchandise life-
you can come to the realization that
a soul the size of a universe
can fit into a small gap.
Judged with but a gap of wiggle room.
On the line you´ve summed me up
into a person of this genre.
I can reach into you
showing you how complex I am.
When after your intestine is fully extended.
My very spirit awakens your convulsing body.
So in the last minute of your merchandise life-
you can come to the realization that
a soul the size of a universe
can fit into a small gap.
Leopardus nocturnus
By dusk the eyes are open.
Safari vans have gone.
This beast is on the move.
The forest floor is now it´s domain.
You wanted a monster?
Lions bask and tourists watch by day.
By night...
This region of bush has turned
from habitat into deathtrap.
The sky loses the last of it´s safety.
In silence and undetected the mammal falls.
Completely nocturnal sharp claw
extended from the padded paw filling into prints...
The only evidence of the the phantom cat´s existance.
The world´s predatory cats slowly become extinct.
As the leopard´s numbers grow.
Safari vans have gone.
This beast is on the move.
The forest floor is now it´s domain.
You wanted a monster?
Lions bask and tourists watch by day.
By night...
This region of bush has turned
from habitat into deathtrap.
The sky loses the last of it´s safety.
In silence and undetected the mammal falls.
Completely nocturnal sharp claw
extended from the padded paw filling into prints...
The only evidence of the the phantom cat´s existance.
The world´s predatory cats slowly become extinct.
As the leopard´s numbers grow.
Abominable hector
Abominable by toilet light.
Mirror exposed your human waste system on purpoo.
Lack of taste.
A smile of horrendous proportions as you sat filming
yourself defecating.
The image will haunt even the most garbage hardy perverts
for months to come.
Mirror exposed your human waste system on purpoo.
Lack of taste.
A smile of horrendous proportions as you sat filming
yourself defecating.
The image will haunt even the most garbage hardy perverts
for months to come.
consinister lovetrip
He strikes with his left,
with hand full of grasshoppers.
He plays the flute on the lawn
drawing mosquito cupids to the city centre.
where lust and confusion hang onto
idle adolescent bohemian wannabe´s.
He strikes with his left a fork for a hand
and instead of hair shiny green cicadas.
He plays the violin into the night,
notes are caught on the wind.
Infatuated youth spring out of their
parents crude nests like virgin flight
birds.
Their expectations obediently backed up
against the freshly painted wall to be executed...
Sinistercon a shiny coated alisation
roams the streets,
licking the wounds of
the loveless
and humbling the heartbreakers.
with hand full of grasshoppers.
He plays the flute on the lawn
drawing mosquito cupids to the city centre.
where lust and confusion hang onto
idle adolescent bohemian wannabe´s.
He strikes with his left a fork for a hand
and instead of hair shiny green cicadas.
He plays the violin into the night,
notes are caught on the wind.
Infatuated youth spring out of their
parents crude nests like virgin flight
birds.
Their expectations obediently backed up
against the freshly painted wall to be executed...
Sinistercon a shiny coated alisation
roams the streets,
licking the wounds of
the loveless
and humbling the heartbreakers.
The building tilted
Organize the waste and the noble wastifiers.
Organize the friends, the future and the
ideal-defiant.
Rocking and shaking, heads full of vertigo!
Looking for the stairs or the elevator.
Sorry dreamer, little bit late.
Bed ridden chronic cases screamed
as the earth shook...
Your precious condo has become a
disastrous alptraum von den hölle!
The very axis of the building changed,
the structure hung precariously as
you tried to find a way down.
It´s still there today hanging precariously
above a poor neighbourhood,
full of soot-faced children waiting for the
dizzying armagaeddon.
Organize the friends, the future and the
ideal-defiant.
Rocking and shaking, heads full of vertigo!
Looking for the stairs or the elevator.
Sorry dreamer, little bit late.
Bed ridden chronic cases screamed
as the earth shook...
Your precious condo has become a
disastrous alptraum von den hölle!
The very axis of the building changed,
the structure hung precariously as
you tried to find a way down.
It´s still there today hanging precariously
above a poor neighbourhood,
full of soot-faced children waiting for the
dizzying armagaeddon.
Fairly stuffed
The bag we call hope was fairly stuffed.
It got popped with the closing of the
peptalk shop.
Returning to the edge of a bleak
horizon.
In a ship made of glad panels.
Running on goodwill fuel.
Just let me get past the grey sunrise
with all of these little reasons...
To have the bag of hope fairly stuffed again.
I´ll land in the middle of city expectations
in the lack of imagination region...
I´ll drop napalm love on the
barren soil you all farm your ideas on.
Judge me if it pleases you.
For your indulgence has been fairly stuffed.
It got popped with the closing of the
peptalk shop.
Returning to the edge of a bleak
horizon.
In a ship made of glad panels.
Running on goodwill fuel.
Just let me get past the grey sunrise
with all of these little reasons...
To have the bag of hope fairly stuffed again.
I´ll land in the middle of city expectations
in the lack of imagination region...
I´ll drop napalm love on the
barren soil you all farm your ideas on.
Judge me if it pleases you.
For your indulgence has been fairly stuffed.
Pariah screen waste.
I sit here in the dark,
throwing pieces of me onto your screen.
Your chip sparks and you can´t see me.
I sit here connecting words we use for free.
If you´re reading It´s the pariah nobody.
A sarcastic angel once joked irritatingly,
that my words would only truly be read
after I´m deceased.
So for the few that kept your eyes to the screen
after my name and heart appeared for you to see.
The question is how popular can you rate
unpopular to be?
throwing pieces of me onto your screen.
Your chip sparks and you can´t see me.
I sit here connecting words we use for free.
If you´re reading It´s the pariah nobody.
A sarcastic angel once joked irritatingly,
that my words would only truly be read
after I´m deceased.
So for the few that kept your eyes to the screen
after my name and heart appeared for you to see.
The question is how popular can you rate
unpopular to be?
quinta-feira, 11 de outubro de 2012
Rhyme appeal
Not being frugal with my words.
Pumping smoke on my adjective hive.
Each page a beach, I´m a tidal verse.
Metaphor cheaky.
From the ballpoint heating
to the key tap creaking.
Bathe between these lines and get a feel.
Poets read it like a soul contract, it´s a deal.
Each burdened spirit makes a savoury meal.
Unlike my cuisine, spicy and mean, heat sealed.
Literally my literature, the will to want to steal...
My very words.
For the round pure magic, rocking in my rhyme appeal...
lucky few have heard.
Pumping smoke on my adjective hive.
Each page a beach, I´m a tidal verse.
Metaphor cheaky.
From the ballpoint heating
to the key tap creaking.
Bathe between these lines and get a feel.
Poets read it like a soul contract, it´s a deal.
Each burdened spirit makes a savoury meal.
Unlike my cuisine, spicy and mean, heat sealed.
Literally my literature, the will to want to steal...
My very words.
For the round pure magic, rocking in my rhyme appeal...
lucky few have heard.
Robby chip goose
Walking the rooster style march.
Down the grassy path edged with rolly robby stones.
It´s the end of summer here in march...
Ducks quack and geese bhonk and queeeck.
Picking at the grass near the robby marsh.
Grains and seeds,
pieces of fluffy feathers-
and fragments of soffy poffy reeds.
See the goose go down, jump, waddle and
prounce.
The dinosaur neck the goose style pronounced.
Ribbed up rubby webbed feet.
Bhonk bhonk bhonk "it´s the end of summer"!
It squealed with it´s beak as the ducks took off.
Robby wings a humming.
Down the grassy path edged with rolly robby stones.
It´s the end of summer here in march...
Ducks quack and geese bhonk and queeeck.
Picking at the grass near the robby marsh.
Grains and seeds,
pieces of fluffy feathers-
and fragments of soffy poffy reeds.
See the goose go down, jump, waddle and
prounce.
The dinosaur neck the goose style pronounced.
Ribbed up rubby webbed feet.
Bhonk bhonk bhonk "it´s the end of summer"!
It squealed with it´s beak as the ducks took off.
Robby wings a humming.
The cheese
I chose a moorish fungal morsal.
As strong as bluevein pulled from the hulk
and fermented in milk.
Contemplating fondue...
The word stench stepped in and
suffocated the boquet,
boxed the aroma out of the nose
ring.
The semi purgal flavour sabour
cuts through the tastebuds
effecting your sense of smell.
As strong as bluevein pulled from the hulk
and fermented in milk.
Contemplating fondue...
The word stench stepped in and
suffocated the boquet,
boxed the aroma out of the nose
ring.
The semi purgal flavour sabour
cuts through the tastebuds
effecting your sense of smell.
John coates conservative.
How is it not a poem coat?
Must it rhyme and ring from the back
of the throat.
Must it be dainty or whiny
like your wife´s hiney.
Does it lack similies
like faces without smiles,
church with no belief.
Had it not metaphors
to ponder?
Or did it just break the hopes
of your false utopian gondwana-land
gun oil land dream.
Must it rhyme and ring from the back
of the throat.
Must it be dainty or whiny
like your wife´s hiney.
Does it lack similies
like faces without smiles,
church with no belief.
Had it not metaphors
to ponder?
Or did it just break the hopes
of your false utopian gondwana-land
gun oil land dream.
Trailor brain
Their understanding of intelligence
was brute force and expensive wall paper.
They thought clever was the same,
cutting out the rest from an office
in a bank owned sky scraper.
They associate leverage with brilliance.
The rich with employment, but the jobs died like steve.
Mansions were painted and trailor parks
grew like roadside weeds.
The IQ´s of the powerful bankers and
rightwing cronies needed reviewing indeed.
was brute force and expensive wall paper.
They thought clever was the same,
cutting out the rest from an office
in a bank owned sky scraper.
They associate leverage with brilliance.
The rich with employment, but the jobs died like steve.
Mansions were painted and trailor parks
grew like roadside weeds.
The IQ´s of the powerful bankers and
rightwing cronies needed reviewing indeed.
segunda-feira, 8 de outubro de 2012
Firework poor.
The explosive connect.
A high flying decoration.
Leaving neighbours
and calm lovers unwillingly destitute
of their sunday afternoon tranquility.
Shooting up and popping.
Littering and causing
forest fires after dropping.
The cling and then... Split.
The flying flaming hen.
The powdered skyward punch
sparks so shoddy.
Venerating the Joe bloggs nobody.
Hungry for actions and reactions.
The gun potion trigger pulled.
For a sports game won and celebrated.
A flammable baffoon´s smile
aimed at the moon.
A cool ugly farce,
an "I deserve it" moment,
that has become a habit and a must.
For the semi-idiotic creature
obsessed with a popping sound.
Alas we have no injections
to put these puppies down.
A high flying decoration.
Leaving neighbours
and calm lovers unwillingly destitute
of their sunday afternoon tranquility.
Shooting up and popping.
Littering and causing
forest fires after dropping.
The cling and then... Split.
The flying flaming hen.
The powdered skyward punch
sparks so shoddy.
Venerating the Joe bloggs nobody.
Hungry for actions and reactions.
The gun potion trigger pulled.
For a sports game won and celebrated.
A flammable baffoon´s smile
aimed at the moon.
A cool ugly farce,
an "I deserve it" moment,
that has become a habit and a must.
For the semi-idiotic creature
obsessed with a popping sound.
Alas we have no injections
to put these puppies down.
The Senses god furnished.
Aware, ears pointed.
Shiny eyed instant catch.
Hindlegs stretched,
front legs in repose.
Great round tongue lick.
Waiting the observing head turns
and on a slant listens even closer.
Baggy bursts of barking,
loud guttural expression.
Tasting everything.
His nose speaks to the air
and listens attentively for a reply.
Round tongue on an outing to see the day.
Satisfied between panting, happy with the fine
tool kit of senses god had furnished him.
Shiny eyed instant catch.
Hindlegs stretched,
front legs in repose.
Great round tongue lick.
Waiting the observing head turns
and on a slant listens even closer.
Baggy bursts of barking,
loud guttural expression.
Tasting everything.
His nose speaks to the air
and listens attentively for a reply.
Round tongue on an outing to see the day.
Satisfied between panting, happy with the fine
tool kit of senses god had furnished him.
Wind of futility.
Taking the day punishing it.
Rob it of plans, laziness a subtle thief.
Coming and stealing achievement as we try and sleep.
Hit this dry day with the sun.
The sky a disobedient blue, almost spitting refusal
as the clouds begin to blow.
This day taking blow after blow
from the wound up wind.
If bells were hanging outside
they´d chyme like judgement day.
Rob it of plans, laziness a subtle thief.
Coming and stealing achievement as we try and sleep.
Hit this dry day with the sun.
The sky a disobedient blue, almost spitting refusal
as the clouds begin to blow.
This day taking blow after blow
from the wound up wind.
If bells were hanging outside
they´d chyme like judgement day.
The Taniwha watched.
Lucky mystery,
twin trees coupled for almost a millenia.
Some dysfunctional group of youths grew up
quickly in fast seasoned years.
Pushed and pressured living beside the
emerald forest where a creature would
observe our catchy provocations.
As we swam in the cool river sometimes
we´d be pulled under by some unseen force.
Just like the shadows we sometimes saw
in the fragrant native evergreen forest.
Yes above the quarry cut into the hills
surrounded by pines infecting his home...
The Taniwha would climb to the highest terrace
and weep with the morning mist.
twin trees coupled for almost a millenia.
Some dysfunctional group of youths grew up
quickly in fast seasoned years.
Pushed and pressured living beside the
emerald forest where a creature would
observe our catchy provocations.
As we swam in the cool river sometimes
we´d be pulled under by some unseen force.
Just like the shadows we sometimes saw
in the fragrant native evergreen forest.
Yes above the quarry cut into the hills
surrounded by pines infecting his home...
The Taniwha would climb to the highest terrace
and weep with the morning mist.
Well dressed and vexed.
How do you all gather the gall to judge me.
Ignore this handkerchief soggy with
my tears in the form of words.
And you leave me like a cactus in the desert.
Did you not call me prickly?
Here´s your chance.
I like those jackets and fine woven pretences.
I like those boasts and the minimum access
I´m given to breach.
A tidy lesson in pop killing with my
creativity´s beach-head.
See you in the shop where the prices are
tweeked.
and the merchandise are people´s dreams.
Ignore this handkerchief soggy with
my tears in the form of words.
And you leave me like a cactus in the desert.
Did you not call me prickly?
Here´s your chance.
I like those jackets and fine woven pretences.
I like those boasts and the minimum access
I´m given to breach.
A tidy lesson in pop killing with my
creativity´s beach-head.
See you in the shop where the prices are
tweeked.
and the merchandise are people´s dreams.
Herdlike
You don´t hunt but then
you don´t keep your head down to feed.
Pushing forwards toward your peers rear.
A little swimming nonthinking drone seed.
Yet how you open like a flower.
With popslang you devour and
freshtongues like swords.
Back your unwholesome words.
Sharpened through gossip and apathy.
Does your saliva burn?
And where those trotters impale the ground
you´ll continue- your hooves make no mark,
no sound.
With cuddle bridges to twofaced trendsetters
that keep you together like border collies.
Your folly thinking you don´t follow
Like some empty carriage on a train.
Conformist style, HOLLOW- crowd controled brain.
you don´t keep your head down to feed.
Pushing forwards toward your peers rear.
A little swimming nonthinking drone seed.
Yet how you open like a flower.
With popslang you devour and
freshtongues like swords.
Back your unwholesome words.
Sharpened through gossip and apathy.
Does your saliva burn?
And where those trotters impale the ground
you´ll continue- your hooves make no mark,
no sound.
With cuddle bridges to twofaced trendsetters
that keep you together like border collies.
Your folly thinking you don´t follow
Like some empty carriage on a train.
Conformist style, HOLLOW- crowd controled brain.
The caravan needs protecting.
Down through the gorge nearing cracks and slips,
early afternoon sun hitting us between
the rocky cliffs.
The wooden wheels crack under the weight
but we´re still moving.
A bullet passes through the pines truly
coming close to cutting me if not for the wheel
hitting a groove.
We jump down from the coach
and run into the scrub and rocks.
Rifles on our backs as we scrambled shocked.
Near a barn and mining structure
our assailants hid aiming.
Like an angel pulling my shoulder into place
I propped my gun and fired a shot worth fame.
Bloody and beguiled my enemy fell at the same
Time off ran the one he hired.
Our caravan continued with tools and seeds
and dreams of a new world.
early afternoon sun hitting us between
the rocky cliffs.
The wooden wheels crack under the weight
but we´re still moving.
A bullet passes through the pines truly
coming close to cutting me if not for the wheel
hitting a groove.
We jump down from the coach
and run into the scrub and rocks.
Rifles on our backs as we scrambled shocked.
Near a barn and mining structure
our assailants hid aiming.
Like an angel pulling my shoulder into place
I propped my gun and fired a shot worth fame.
Bloody and beguiled my enemy fell at the same
Time off ran the one he hired.
Our caravan continued with tools and seeds
and dreams of a new world.
This in me
A plate of me out to the learning.
A piece of me sewn into their clothes.
My words...
Electric custard.
The very centre of me boiled down
and given in drops.
Me as a mustard spread,
Mildly picante.
Me as food crops
sustaining the village of fans.
Yes that´s me in the pan,
Caprichious oil, curdling dream pops.
All me ageless like a god, like salt.
And this in me I give, wheat barley and malt.
As if a bear, my paws write with the blood
of my fained prey and his stained liver.
Make a link between the way I make you think
as you sive between all this in me
and that, that I really give.
A piece of me sewn into their clothes.
My words...
Electric custard.
The very centre of me boiled down
and given in drops.
Me as a mustard spread,
Mildly picante.
Me as food crops
sustaining the village of fans.
Yes that´s me in the pan,
Caprichious oil, curdling dream pops.
All me ageless like a god, like salt.
And this in me I give, wheat barley and malt.
As if a bear, my paws write with the blood
of my fained prey and his stained liver.
Make a link between the way I make you think
as you sive between all this in me
and that, that I really give.
Fierce spring
Street trees are waking in gloss.
Some in violet flowers, true orgasm.
The decades pass and woodgrain expands
The wind their teacher,
their fall leaves
like books to nourish the seedlings.
Bushy spring foliage, a vital shine
the colour of comfort.
The soft touch to the hard street.
Have we time to see the flower bloom
without asking permission.
Have we time to admire what grows
beautifully on our periphery.
Some in violet flowers, true orgasm.
The decades pass and woodgrain expands
The wind their teacher,
their fall leaves
like books to nourish the seedlings.
Bushy spring foliage, a vital shine
the colour of comfort.
The soft touch to the hard street.
Have we time to see the flower bloom
without asking permission.
Have we time to admire what grows
beautifully on our periphery.
Non reply.
And your asking...
You are putting together and
building up these perfect questions.
Then when the words are in your mouth
like well fabricated bullets...
You fire directly into the ears of
that person who sits so confused.
Alas super protection in the form of
earwax or carelessness, or the
dynamic cohesion of the two.
results in Non reply.
You are putting together and
building up these perfect questions.
Then when the words are in your mouth
like well fabricated bullets...
You fire directly into the ears of
that person who sits so confused.
Alas super protection in the form of
earwax or carelessness, or the
dynamic cohesion of the two.
results in Non reply.
What the eyes don´t see.
Suddenly the lines were cut
and suspicion reigned like a hungry king.
Smiles narrowed and lost their curves
as second guessing burnt soft nerves.
Imagination can be an aberration.
Seeing no evil, nightmareville´s vacation.
Late night thoughts of what could be.
Only make worse...
what the eyes don´t see.
and suspicion reigned like a hungry king.
Smiles narrowed and lost their curves
as second guessing burnt soft nerves.
Imagination can be an aberration.
Seeing no evil, nightmareville´s vacation.
Late night thoughts of what could be.
Only make worse...
what the eyes don´t see.
Doctor Doglaer
Having the power of life and death in your hands.
Deciding even the hours of daylight from our prayers
and demands.
keeping us bread and butter living,
with some notable anomaly.
Digging into us, testing us.
Were we programmed like computers
to freak out along that line or continuem
you call destiny.
Supposedly showing signs of eagerness
and boredom at synchronized times.
Doctor doglaer the scientist, the humanist
checking his predictions.
Whilst out daily lives ebb and flow
with love´s grease or hates friction.
When our courage is on the operating table...
We pray doglaer´s scalpel is sharp enough
to cut our fear.
Deciding even the hours of daylight from our prayers
and demands.
keeping us bread and butter living,
with some notable anomaly.
Digging into us, testing us.
Were we programmed like computers
to freak out along that line or continuem
you call destiny.
Supposedly showing signs of eagerness
and boredom at synchronized times.
Doctor doglaer the scientist, the humanist
checking his predictions.
Whilst out daily lives ebb and flow
with love´s grease or hates friction.
When our courage is on the operating table...
We pray doglaer´s scalpel is sharp enough
to cut our fear.
domingo, 7 de outubro de 2012
The Bolivian ghost(short story)
My career was going well but I needed a change.
I was an english teacher living in Brazil. I kind of wanted to see more of latin america and practice my spanish. Anyway a friend came back from Bolivia and gave me a number to call from a small town who were offering to pay good money to a native english teacher. Good accomadation etc included, I couldn´t really deny it. So I went.
Well the town was called Rulates and it seemed to be quite quaint. Arriving in the town and the country itself alot of my assumptions were proven wrong. I thought it would be a tropical paradise alas apart from the surrounding hills the land was semibarren.
I was taken to the language school which was a great domed building said to built by the government many decades ago as a private holiday/indoor bath house. Since then it was converted into a prison for communists. And an asylum for the mentally ill. The second story of the building had classrooms in excellent condition kitted out with new equipment and nice t.v´s. On the first floor there were a whole lot of locked rooms which the maintenance man Alberto explained were off limits. You could still see inside, into what looked like bathing chambers with steps going down to murky watered pools.
Later after a few beers Alberto also mentioned the local priest or self proclaimed saint Mattias gonzales had been doing hydro therapy with the mental patients. What he called a baptism to extract the evil.
I was excited and after a good night´s sleep in the bungalow I rented at half price or atleast that´s what they said. I went back in a car they´d also given me to start my classes.
I got their early as per my usual habit. The place was dead quiet despite being midmorning and there was no sign of the maintenance man Alberto. So I went in and checked out the bathing chambers from the rectangular windows. Each room seemed to be well illuminated by large windows the tiles looked clean on the steps going down to the water which definitely looked dirty. I noticed there was some subtle movement in the water. When i came to the door of the last room, i pressed my face against the window to look in and the door opened. i could immediately hear voices as if there was a meeting being held in there between bosses of a company. two seconds and nothing the voices had stopped. When I looked at the room it was empty the one thing that caught my eye next was the fact that the water in the pool was still moving. I closed the door but it wouldn´t close properly i thought I´m going to get in trouble for this. i also realized that the place was extrodinarily haunted.
Then I heard steps coming from up the hall i thought what´s next this must be phantom now right on time. No it was the humble and very informative Alberto he asked me curiously if i had gone in. i told him ofcourse not but the door had opened. This starteled the fellow. I told him it wasn´t locked. he grabbed his key chain and firmly attempted to lock the door. It was virtually impossible so we both gave it a go for about ten minutes until we finally got it done. Tired and shaken it was time for me to prepare my class.
As I entered the classroom i realized that something very heavy and active was in the air in the room with me
Somekind of invisible animal maybe. i joked to myself that perhaps it had been a horse or cow that had drowned in one of the bathing chambers, except the moment the smile appeared on my face the thing in the room with me spoke to me both into my ears and through me. It said that I would never be free of it. it repeated this a few times each time a choking sensation started to form across my throat. It then stopped and my students arrived, I acted as if nothing had happened and welcomed them introducing myself with really false confidence.
After the students left I felt the hostility and ugliness return and I imagined the water being blessed by Mattias Gonzales it was almost like the presense was putting the images in my head. Remembering the colour of the water how it was so dirty and they had just left it there. I imagined the spirits or demons being absorbed there as the hydro therapy/baptism therapy went on. Somewhere between religion and science aberration something had been created and now it was my problem. i felt it like a curse. That this ghost was some kind of affliction that now belonged to me.
I thought I might aswell go on living as if it was nothing, deep down I knew I was in trouble though. So I went to the local town square which was a like an old style american hotel built as a gallery which contained the town square and gave it a feeling of safety and homeliness. When I approached the square I saw children playing and their mothers talking, the locals all smiled at me and some even gave me kind words of encouragement. Then I saw the children´s playing start to change from their jovial push and shove game to frantic gripping and desperate wrestling. Their mouths had turned from calm smiles the kind camera ads could sell. To teeth bared grins and strained lips full of drool, you could see tension on their faces.
I knew straight away it had something to do with me, so I moved out in a hurry taking a few things I´d bought before the commotion began. It didn´t help much though as i turned around from the carpark and saw one boy tearing another boys ear off.
I stood in shock for a while and looked up at the sky it was brilliant. I got in my car and started driving i looked at the roadside flowers which seemed to grow well even in this high alttitude arid soil and thought to myself In such a peaceful place how could one be so damned.
I started thinking maybe I could see the local witch doctor there was bound to be one. Or some kind of local shamen they could get this great ghost off me. As I was having this thought the weight of the car seemed to grow, it was like I suddenly had a car full of people it literally slowed the car right down. Five minutes later the heaviness subsided but I knew it could return at any time.
When I got back to my place I couldn´t feel any presense at all. So I went on naturally putting things I´d bought from the market away and I prepared my dinner. I managed to sit down and eat my dinner in front of the t.v without any problems. I was about halfway through when "CRACK" there was a crashing sound that exploded into the room. The wooden door was in four pieces and the impact showed it came from the outside. It was just that there was nothing that could have caused it as the cliche went. So I guessed my old friend the ghost had made his entrance. I noticed the room was heavier than ever aswell.
Most of the night I spent tossing and turning and wondering if something ghastly would happen.
The next day I woke sticky from drying sweat and discomfort. I went to the local shop and asked where there would be a witch doctor. The shopkeeper drew a small map and I went straight there.
I met with him and he said he had no qualms with ridding any evil spirit that was accompanying me. He did however ask for fifty U.S dollars. I agreed anyway.
We sat down and I told him about the place where i was teaching and how the ghost had come to haunt me. he took a handful of herbs and seeds and told me to hold them firmly in my hands. He started to describe how it was that unsatisfied spirits sometimes return to bother the living. Then he began to chant, I held the herbs and seeds forming fists and squeezing them. He chanted louder as we sat there together near his hut. He closed his eyes and moaned. then he opened his eyes and told me that when I opened my hands the herbs would have changed from green to yellow and that the haunting would have gone.
I opened my hands and the witchdoctor screamed as it was evident the herbs and seeds were burning in my hands. I slapped my hands until it was all on the ground even though i didn´t feel any burning sensation at all.. The witch doctor desperately kicked up dirt tryiong to get to his feet. he ran into his hut.
I got up and started following him, though he warned me to stay out. I asked him if i had been cured he said he didn´t know. I thought about asking for my money back, but the terror that the witch doctor had displayed could only be compared to a young boys first visit to the principals office for something he had done wrong.
I went back to the school and started working the heaviness would come and go. I gave my first class which was long and drawn out. Toward the end of the class the students were arguing about the verb forms of the word "strike". I explained and explained it seemed that day the students just felt like arguing. The lesson took forever to end and each slow second was annoyed me. I could see the clock and that the lesson would soon be over. This lifted my spirits for another minute. I prepare myself to leave the room when some of the students started talking first I thought it was spanish then I realized they were saying the words backwards the clock on the wall made a dragging sound and I looked up to see that time itself was going backwards.
Then as if nothing had happened i was back at the beginning of the class, the stupid ghost had me time travel just to the most tedious class of my life again. this was incredible obviously there was no limit to the power of this supernatural fiend.
I told myself to start getting used to the fact that i´d probably be stuck with the ghost for life. And it would end up destroying me somehow as I gave the whole class again.
When I got home I destroyed my place I got completely drunk and broke everything in the house not noticing the subtle presense that had never left me. it was wwith rage and disdain that I punched holes in the walls and broke the table and chairs.
Still no sign of the ghost though.
The next day i did feel lighter but my place was completely destroyed. When i grabbed my briefcase and headed for the car I could hear a laughing coming from the house it got louder and louder as I got in and drove to the school. The domed building reminded me of the curse I just couldn´t get it out of my head.
I sat down and talked with Alberto who told me even more about the priest Mattias Gonzales who had taken water from a special spring nearby and filled the baths with it. But instead of blessing the water with a normal church blessing he conducted a ritual related to a local black magic cult.
The priest was excommunicated but after his ritual nine people who had been using the baths for their therapy with the priest died of asphyxia. The center for the mentally ill was shut down and reopened a few years later as the dome language school. The mayor of the town of Rulates had insisted
the building be reused. The bath chambers however were never refurbished either because of superstition or a lack of money or both.
The priest had disappeared, Alberto told me that his house could be found up in the hills by the special creek that was supposed to be a natural wonder or blessed.
I dropped my class material ran out the door and got into my car, this nightmare would end and the priest or his house would show me how. I drove up the road leading up the hill till I reached the priest´s house as I got out the car the heaviness returned and almost pushed me into the ground.
I fought it with all of my strength struggling to make each step to mattias´house. As i neared the house the heaviness disappeared. I looked inside the windows and checked the doors they were all locked.
I went around looking into the house, maybe this place was haunted aswell I said to myself looking at the strange paintings of rituals on the walls through the windows. I got a rock and smashed one of the windows and stuck my hand through to undo the latch, something slpped my hand as I confirmed by looking there was nothing human or animal inside looked like i was facing another ghost unless the one that had been haunting me had bet me there, but i could feel the energy of the other ghost and it was distant as if it didn´t have permission to enter. As I got in I found his study even in the darkness I rummaged around in his books and papers mostly spiritual and religious writings with some strange symbolic pictures attached. Then I came to some pictures and diagrams of a spring, I could only guess it was the spring from the creek, the place where Mattias had gotten the water from. I picked up a book written by Juan Monte the Priest who held the parish before Mattias. he had written that the water had healing power and was a source of natural good. there were pictures of him baptizing people in the water of the spring. i picked up another paper deeming that the spring become an official holy site.
With the idea that maybe the water was something special. I decided to go out for a swim in it or baptize myself in it. I got to the creek and waided up to my knees walking up it, I felt the heavy presense leave my body I could feel a real peace now. i could recognize the spring ahead and dived into the water swimming toward it. I drank the water, splashed it on myself and bathed in it for hours.
From that day the ghost had completely left me, and hair grew back inside the bald spot on my head.
Some places on this earth are impossible to curse.
I was an english teacher living in Brazil. I kind of wanted to see more of latin america and practice my spanish. Anyway a friend came back from Bolivia and gave me a number to call from a small town who were offering to pay good money to a native english teacher. Good accomadation etc included, I couldn´t really deny it. So I went.
Well the town was called Rulates and it seemed to be quite quaint. Arriving in the town and the country itself alot of my assumptions were proven wrong. I thought it would be a tropical paradise alas apart from the surrounding hills the land was semibarren.
I was taken to the language school which was a great domed building said to built by the government many decades ago as a private holiday/indoor bath house. Since then it was converted into a prison for communists. And an asylum for the mentally ill. The second story of the building had classrooms in excellent condition kitted out with new equipment and nice t.v´s. On the first floor there were a whole lot of locked rooms which the maintenance man Alberto explained were off limits. You could still see inside, into what looked like bathing chambers with steps going down to murky watered pools.
Later after a few beers Alberto also mentioned the local priest or self proclaimed saint Mattias gonzales had been doing hydro therapy with the mental patients. What he called a baptism to extract the evil.
I was excited and after a good night´s sleep in the bungalow I rented at half price or atleast that´s what they said. I went back in a car they´d also given me to start my classes.
I got their early as per my usual habit. The place was dead quiet despite being midmorning and there was no sign of the maintenance man Alberto. So I went in and checked out the bathing chambers from the rectangular windows. Each room seemed to be well illuminated by large windows the tiles looked clean on the steps going down to the water which definitely looked dirty. I noticed there was some subtle movement in the water. When i came to the door of the last room, i pressed my face against the window to look in and the door opened. i could immediately hear voices as if there was a meeting being held in there between bosses of a company. two seconds and nothing the voices had stopped. When I looked at the room it was empty the one thing that caught my eye next was the fact that the water in the pool was still moving. I closed the door but it wouldn´t close properly i thought I´m going to get in trouble for this. i also realized that the place was extrodinarily haunted.
Then I heard steps coming from up the hall i thought what´s next this must be phantom now right on time. No it was the humble and very informative Alberto he asked me curiously if i had gone in. i told him ofcourse not but the door had opened. This starteled the fellow. I told him it wasn´t locked. he grabbed his key chain and firmly attempted to lock the door. It was virtually impossible so we both gave it a go for about ten minutes until we finally got it done. Tired and shaken it was time for me to prepare my class.
As I entered the classroom i realized that something very heavy and active was in the air in the room with me
Somekind of invisible animal maybe. i joked to myself that perhaps it had been a horse or cow that had drowned in one of the bathing chambers, except the moment the smile appeared on my face the thing in the room with me spoke to me both into my ears and through me. It said that I would never be free of it. it repeated this a few times each time a choking sensation started to form across my throat. It then stopped and my students arrived, I acted as if nothing had happened and welcomed them introducing myself with really false confidence.
After the students left I felt the hostility and ugliness return and I imagined the water being blessed by Mattias Gonzales it was almost like the presense was putting the images in my head. Remembering the colour of the water how it was so dirty and they had just left it there. I imagined the spirits or demons being absorbed there as the hydro therapy/baptism therapy went on. Somewhere between religion and science aberration something had been created and now it was my problem. i felt it like a curse. That this ghost was some kind of affliction that now belonged to me.
I thought I might aswell go on living as if it was nothing, deep down I knew I was in trouble though. So I went to the local town square which was a like an old style american hotel built as a gallery which contained the town square and gave it a feeling of safety and homeliness. When I approached the square I saw children playing and their mothers talking, the locals all smiled at me and some even gave me kind words of encouragement. Then I saw the children´s playing start to change from their jovial push and shove game to frantic gripping and desperate wrestling. Their mouths had turned from calm smiles the kind camera ads could sell. To teeth bared grins and strained lips full of drool, you could see tension on their faces.
I knew straight away it had something to do with me, so I moved out in a hurry taking a few things I´d bought before the commotion began. It didn´t help much though as i turned around from the carpark and saw one boy tearing another boys ear off.
I stood in shock for a while and looked up at the sky it was brilliant. I got in my car and started driving i looked at the roadside flowers which seemed to grow well even in this high alttitude arid soil and thought to myself In such a peaceful place how could one be so damned.
I started thinking maybe I could see the local witch doctor there was bound to be one. Or some kind of local shamen they could get this great ghost off me. As I was having this thought the weight of the car seemed to grow, it was like I suddenly had a car full of people it literally slowed the car right down. Five minutes later the heaviness subsided but I knew it could return at any time.
When I got back to my place I couldn´t feel any presense at all. So I went on naturally putting things I´d bought from the market away and I prepared my dinner. I managed to sit down and eat my dinner in front of the t.v without any problems. I was about halfway through when "CRACK" there was a crashing sound that exploded into the room. The wooden door was in four pieces and the impact showed it came from the outside. It was just that there was nothing that could have caused it as the cliche went. So I guessed my old friend the ghost had made his entrance. I noticed the room was heavier than ever aswell.
Most of the night I spent tossing and turning and wondering if something ghastly would happen.
The next day I woke sticky from drying sweat and discomfort. I went to the local shop and asked where there would be a witch doctor. The shopkeeper drew a small map and I went straight there.
I met with him and he said he had no qualms with ridding any evil spirit that was accompanying me. He did however ask for fifty U.S dollars. I agreed anyway.
We sat down and I told him about the place where i was teaching and how the ghost had come to haunt me. he took a handful of herbs and seeds and told me to hold them firmly in my hands. He started to describe how it was that unsatisfied spirits sometimes return to bother the living. Then he began to chant, I held the herbs and seeds forming fists and squeezing them. He chanted louder as we sat there together near his hut. He closed his eyes and moaned. then he opened his eyes and told me that when I opened my hands the herbs would have changed from green to yellow and that the haunting would have gone.
I opened my hands and the witchdoctor screamed as it was evident the herbs and seeds were burning in my hands. I slapped my hands until it was all on the ground even though i didn´t feel any burning sensation at all.. The witch doctor desperately kicked up dirt tryiong to get to his feet. he ran into his hut.
I got up and started following him, though he warned me to stay out. I asked him if i had been cured he said he didn´t know. I thought about asking for my money back, but the terror that the witch doctor had displayed could only be compared to a young boys first visit to the principals office for something he had done wrong.
I went back to the school and started working the heaviness would come and go. I gave my first class which was long and drawn out. Toward the end of the class the students were arguing about the verb forms of the word "strike". I explained and explained it seemed that day the students just felt like arguing. The lesson took forever to end and each slow second was annoyed me. I could see the clock and that the lesson would soon be over. This lifted my spirits for another minute. I prepare myself to leave the room when some of the students started talking first I thought it was spanish then I realized they were saying the words backwards the clock on the wall made a dragging sound and I looked up to see that time itself was going backwards.
Then as if nothing had happened i was back at the beginning of the class, the stupid ghost had me time travel just to the most tedious class of my life again. this was incredible obviously there was no limit to the power of this supernatural fiend.
I told myself to start getting used to the fact that i´d probably be stuck with the ghost for life. And it would end up destroying me somehow as I gave the whole class again.
When I got home I destroyed my place I got completely drunk and broke everything in the house not noticing the subtle presense that had never left me. it was wwith rage and disdain that I punched holes in the walls and broke the table and chairs.
Still no sign of the ghost though.
The next day i did feel lighter but my place was completely destroyed. When i grabbed my briefcase and headed for the car I could hear a laughing coming from the house it got louder and louder as I got in and drove to the school. The domed building reminded me of the curse I just couldn´t get it out of my head.
I sat down and talked with Alberto who told me even more about the priest Mattias Gonzales who had taken water from a special spring nearby and filled the baths with it. But instead of blessing the water with a normal church blessing he conducted a ritual related to a local black magic cult.
The priest was excommunicated but after his ritual nine people who had been using the baths for their therapy with the priest died of asphyxia. The center for the mentally ill was shut down and reopened a few years later as the dome language school. The mayor of the town of Rulates had insisted
the building be reused. The bath chambers however were never refurbished either because of superstition or a lack of money or both.
The priest had disappeared, Alberto told me that his house could be found up in the hills by the special creek that was supposed to be a natural wonder or blessed.
I dropped my class material ran out the door and got into my car, this nightmare would end and the priest or his house would show me how. I drove up the road leading up the hill till I reached the priest´s house as I got out the car the heaviness returned and almost pushed me into the ground.
I fought it with all of my strength struggling to make each step to mattias´house. As i neared the house the heaviness disappeared. I looked inside the windows and checked the doors they were all locked.
I went around looking into the house, maybe this place was haunted aswell I said to myself looking at the strange paintings of rituals on the walls through the windows. I got a rock and smashed one of the windows and stuck my hand through to undo the latch, something slpped my hand as I confirmed by looking there was nothing human or animal inside looked like i was facing another ghost unless the one that had been haunting me had bet me there, but i could feel the energy of the other ghost and it was distant as if it didn´t have permission to enter. As I got in I found his study even in the darkness I rummaged around in his books and papers mostly spiritual and religious writings with some strange symbolic pictures attached. Then I came to some pictures and diagrams of a spring, I could only guess it was the spring from the creek, the place where Mattias had gotten the water from. I picked up a book written by Juan Monte the Priest who held the parish before Mattias. he had written that the water had healing power and was a source of natural good. there were pictures of him baptizing people in the water of the spring. i picked up another paper deeming that the spring become an official holy site.
With the idea that maybe the water was something special. I decided to go out for a swim in it or baptize myself in it. I got to the creek and waided up to my knees walking up it, I felt the heavy presense leave my body I could feel a real peace now. i could recognize the spring ahead and dived into the water swimming toward it. I drank the water, splashed it on myself and bathed in it for hours.
From that day the ghost had completely left me, and hair grew back inside the bald spot on my head.
Some places on this earth are impossible to curse.
quarta-feira, 3 de outubro de 2012
When my time comes.
When my time comes
and the scythe sweep humms.
I´ll be exactly where god wants me.
Unless he sends me off haunting.
In which case I´ll opt to be born me again.
When my time comes you see...
And the guard to heaven ignores my pleas.
I´ll go back and take the bullet for ghandi
to get a waver, an exception, a reprieve.
Split second redemption
to make the afterlife easy!
Until then i´m taking
a hundred thousand blessings
and a split soul to save.
Before my time comes
to have to lie in my grave.
and the scythe sweep humms.
I´ll be exactly where god wants me.
Unless he sends me off haunting.
In which case I´ll opt to be born me again.
When my time comes you see...
And the guard to heaven ignores my pleas.
I´ll go back and take the bullet for ghandi
to get a waver, an exception, a reprieve.
Split second redemption
to make the afterlife easy!
Until then i´m taking
a hundred thousand blessings
and a split soul to save.
Before my time comes
to have to lie in my grave.
Arnem land creek demon
The Northern territory´s underwater fiend.
Six metres-one tonne of prehistoric ferocity!
Hiding in the murky stream at the bend.
Where the locals go swimming and fishing.
The wet season´s lurking flesh-eater.
One day a young man slips under
with not so much as a splash.
The pale green demon one week in wait
sprung in a flash.
His friends scanned the surface
of the swimming hole.
To no avail- while the youth under the current
died in a brutal deathroll.
A monster owned that part of the river
for more than a mile.
Living in the skin of a salt water crocadile.
Six metres-one tonne of prehistoric ferocity!
Hiding in the murky stream at the bend.
Where the locals go swimming and fishing.
The wet season´s lurking flesh-eater.
One day a young man slips under
with not so much as a splash.
The pale green demon one week in wait
sprung in a flash.
His friends scanned the surface
of the swimming hole.
To no avail- while the youth under the current
died in a brutal deathroll.
A monster owned that part of the river
for more than a mile.
Living in the skin of a salt water crocadile.
Entertain the thought.
Get use to the fact,
the world is a ball made to convince you.
Have another of those Ads across your art.
Another sellout until
each piece of your heart is bought.
Your authenticity from falsehoods wrought.
For that extra cash bonus,
be a part of the spam-luck-bin
that lengthens the holiday
and the slimey grin.
A frequent flyer poet
owned by your own
quest for points.
Worship the gimic-slogan men always a ploy.
Entertain the thought your verse is annoying.
And all the marketing tools(people) you anoint.
the world is a ball made to convince you.
Have another of those Ads across your art.
Another sellout until
each piece of your heart is bought.
Your authenticity from falsehoods wrought.
For that extra cash bonus,
be a part of the spam-luck-bin
that lengthens the holiday
and the slimey grin.
A frequent flyer poet
owned by your own
quest for points.
Worship the gimic-slogan men always a ploy.
Entertain the thought your verse is annoying.
And all the marketing tools(people) you anoint.
The sick poet.
Sick he distanced himself from reality.
He found his only love inside rare fantasies.
He dreamed and wondered what maybe,
his soft mind germinated these false seeds.
Before long he had a plantation of hungry
substance sucking infatuation monocots.
His eyes and ears told lies
reality was blocked off.
Obsession leached him of his charm.
He´d lost his value, his composure...
His golden stately calm.
He found his only love inside rare fantasies.
He dreamed and wondered what maybe,
his soft mind germinated these false seeds.
Before long he had a plantation of hungry
substance sucking infatuation monocots.
His eyes and ears told lies
reality was blocked off.
Obsession leached him of his charm.
He´d lost his value, his composure...
His golden stately calm.
farewell Eric hobsbawm
We could see the world fall sir.
The capitalist fist raised with muscle
-toned with greed
-veined with conservatism.
And your heroe marx will his legacy
shield us?
From the elite and the puppet master
market tweekers?
Hobsbawm will the world go
to war without warning?
Can socialism save us
from the insatiable apetite
of the machine it´s slaves and lords?
p*ss progress enough of a reward?
Farewell your sentiment...
has stained my heart forever.
The capitalist fist raised with muscle
-toned with greed
-veined with conservatism.
And your heroe marx will his legacy
shield us?
From the elite and the puppet master
market tweekers?
Hobsbawm will the world go
to war without warning?
Can socialism save us
from the insatiable apetite
of the machine it´s slaves and lords?
p*ss progress enough of a reward?
Farewell your sentiment...
has stained my heart forever.
Bravado
All show
I´ve seen your bandana,
your uncle´s shotgun.
You´ve squeezed into bad
like it was a tight dress boy.
And you´re up and down sad
with a spraycan!
Your crews addicted to
some new cheap tweeker´s potion.
Your rival´s bought a sight
and bribed the oldschool for the right
to explode you.
Yeah your new face tatoo
has got the neighbours rattled
the local diary too.
But they count bullets and sent
the order to peel off your ink!
Lay low at your friends,
forget that stuff you once pretended.
They do this nine to five to Ak47
By the end of the week better pray your alive
cause they don´t let fakers into heaven.
I´ve seen your bandana,
your uncle´s shotgun.
You´ve squeezed into bad
like it was a tight dress boy.
And you´re up and down sad
with a spraycan!
Your crews addicted to
some new cheap tweeker´s potion.
Your rival´s bought a sight
and bribed the oldschool for the right
to explode you.
Yeah your new face tatoo
has got the neighbours rattled
the local diary too.
But they count bullets and sent
the order to peel off your ink!
Lay low at your friends,
forget that stuff you once pretended.
They do this nine to five to Ak47
By the end of the week better pray your alive
cause they don´t let fakers into heaven.
Making the devil´s clothes
An expectation filled and a grin felt.
A swagger in the step, the handshake
and the clandestine decrepid heart.
All the sheen of a hollywood face cream...
overused.
Your admiration and your tranformation into a fan
you automatically choose.
And with the others you go.
Signature astray.
Like the cinder of your man´s cigarretes
and his subterranean ashtray.
Fine threaded, well spun regret.
A swagger in the step, the handshake
and the clandestine decrepid heart.
All the sheen of a hollywood face cream...
overused.
Your admiration and your tranformation into a fan
you automatically choose.
And with the others you go.
Signature astray.
Like the cinder of your man´s cigarretes
and his subterranean ashtray.
Fine threaded, well spun regret.
Cultured with a purpose.
Beauty belonged to them, young and reeling.
In their sofa spun garages,
Where music and weed smoke
redies the dreamgirls for the orgy.
Young dumbfounded pimple spun
teens like me learn jealousy.
From the smoky windows we can see our
highschool sweethearts losing their virginity.
Being aloof was the worst advice.
And pretending to be like them
an even worse vice.
Yes into our neighbourhoods
with the right cars, clothes and smiles.
Taking the only thing our day dreams contained.
That cliche babe cry on your shoulder and run a mile.
When it´s cool to be wild, your too tame.
These cultured older guys with a purpose
invented the code, the swindle, the game.
In their sofa spun garages,
Where music and weed smoke
redies the dreamgirls for the orgy.
Young dumbfounded pimple spun
teens like me learn jealousy.
From the smoky windows we can see our
highschool sweethearts losing their virginity.
Being aloof was the worst advice.
And pretending to be like them
an even worse vice.
Yes into our neighbourhoods
with the right cars, clothes and smiles.
Taking the only thing our day dreams contained.
That cliche babe cry on your shoulder and run a mile.
When it´s cool to be wild, your too tame.
These cultured older guys with a purpose
invented the code, the swindle, the game.
Between houses.
Dawns a door, the sun it´s lock.
Sleeping through light or dark
I try not to be late for the feast.
On the boats that have never touched water.
Sweet dreams, an internal holiday.
Outside the door animals scrape.
Dawn is on us like a spotlight.
Hunger owns us.
The clock hands shake.
We are witness to an abundance of
empty kitchens craving to bake.
Early light is no comfort.
Sleeping through light or dark
I try not to be late for the feast.
On the boats that have never touched water.
Sweet dreams, an internal holiday.
Outside the door animals scrape.
Dawn is on us like a spotlight.
Hunger owns us.
The clock hands shake.
We are witness to an abundance of
empty kitchens craving to bake.
Early light is no comfort.
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