Leave the cantina

Lateness life´s behind the time
The bar is full of foolish liquid capped
and waitress eyes watch it absorb
coloured clothes and hats

Pack and unpack shave the mustache
follow the itinery take a swig
A train stops for sabotage
The undercover local pulled along by pigs

between the pines a banana plantation
A sniper in the undergrowth
I´m late for the hours exploitation
Time table and train I forgot both

I need to kick it out
somewhere where snow is feared
For I´m late by years the conscience shouts
The clouds resent me and rain won´t be shared

Pack it up you have five minutes running hyper
The clock ticks and you need to leave the cantina under duress
Mexican pig farmers and mercenary snipers
Time falls out of the bottle and assists forgetfulness

All await disappointed as I could not arrive
I couldn´t pack my bags and catch the train
Wrist watch leaves such stains when it´s deprived
I wanted to survive the cantina by remaining sane

To like nothing

He said he liked nothing!
He raised his head and uttered blankness
Nothing all day
My eyes see the colour of a void it´s whiteness

I like nothing he said
The mind goes nowhere
I didn´t expect anything
Moronically unsurprised

Lean forward and draw a blank
Lack of anything a purity to it
excrutiating for the creative
colourless space

Mundane zero contrast
the food of my sleep
He said he liked no one and nothing
what a drag

These feelings are natural
don´t find them snags
Nothing I like nothing like flavourless cheese
Like the mute and surreal salivaless sneeze

Blankness and whiteness
no creativity
fashion corporations and potatoe flavoured beef
"Nothing I like nothing" he said to me

Positively vase like

This vase shouldn´t be empty
sunday morning surprises
humble worry from some well fed head
That head shouldn´t be empty

A giggle I placed in her mouth
let me know she was healthy
Optimism pushing me up a level
She drove tolerance and understanding

Chest empty as the vase is
medicine out of reach
wanting ever present the sticky residue on her skin
All I do is teach

Hearts mushy balloons
waiting to be played with
They shouldn´t be empty though
No surprises sunday morning the cold face of a glacier

A hollow glacier melting at my excitement
The timer counting down
ghosts have nestled
each one more haunted by me

I loved once and that vase was full
There´s a hole in the earth that desires me
Awaits me trusts I´ll fall for it
Yet I will not fill it till the heart and vase are overflowing.

Not darkwater

Words find life
everyform blessed and cursed
Lamen will tell you it´s darkwater
High fields of paradise ploughed by men whose eyes have been to hell

River of rhyme not where darkwater flows
No sinister fish here dwell
Demonic masks ward off infernal spirits
The admission of an unfair world is slavery from the tongue

No dark blood squeezed from the executed witches
necessary beauty of reality
as cruel and merciful as eveyday life
Words find life none so dark as the mind that digests

The premise(reason to live)

"Give me a reason to live", shouldn´t this be a question on young people´s minds.
Though Young people should recognise over the span of a lifetime
exactly how important having a reason can be!
Is it all about our actions, good and bad?
Is that what matters? If so, What controls our actions?
For people in the position to judge or who nominate themselves there
may decide what is good and evil, guilty or innocent.
Though does their judgement recognise why the crime or good deed was done?
One important thing that should be done above all others is to analyze carefully
from where and what kind of energy drove the action to cause recent obvious
events.
The consequences of actions can easily help us in conclusion as to why the deed good or evil was done.
Though in law it is often the motive and the fact it was an action waiting to happen.
The aspect and the true colour of the deed can only be understood by recognizing the person´s mental conditioning which determines a person´s values or lack of them and often affects a person´s actions directly.
Some may say god is instilled in all of us, but is it?
If so why would some of us need so much convincing we belong to it.
Are athiests born or made?
All of us are imperfect people that´s a given, yet alot of us go about preaching our religions etc and
our ethics in regard to such ideas.
 Lofty and highly unrealistic ideals are found within every form of scripture and the notion of living up to those ideals is almost as ridiculous as the same religion´s theories about our origins.
Holy teachings don´t just convert people to faith within a dogma but faith in maintaining standards of the most ethical and compassionate, when most of the low income congregation are not even soundly educated to recognize what or why morality itself really serves any purpose at all.
They practice a kind of dishonesty, that somehow if they stand and shout it will make their actions during the working week just!
Honesty most people don´t practice, for the pride in religion wakes a soul and begs it onto the white horse riding into town and spilling words of how things ought to be without lifting a finger to change a thing. A declaration that I am friends with god so my sins are really of no concern, no personal improvement necessary so long as I pray.
But does that mean that god doesn´t exist when so many believers represent a lifestyle of lies?
No just because people are lost and unconscious that doesn´t mean anything except most have no true idea how to live.
Young people become athiests in their millions everyday and did in the past aswell. Hopeless role models preaching about the rewards of good behaviour and heaven and hell and karma etc. The very same rolemodels end up at some point redhanded doing the exact thing they spoke out against.
Yes sir they stain the very god they go about promoting, that great order young people could follow and say this is concrete, eternal and good unto itself! The all purpose, for the masses "reason" is taken off the menu of living because there is and has never been enough examples that the religion is a sure path toward a great and truthful life!
And on this planet people´s deeds are not decided by god but by the followers of god. Stories of old glorify and the modern day accounts of the church and holy war etc shock!

The real premise
The real premise to live in fact is just like a fingerprint. Each of us in his kind has different hidden and vital aspirations, most of which don´t go anywhere but to the redundant daydream between shifts.
Each person has a different fingerprint it´s like a code that demands each of us is different, evidence of god maybe! Sometimes the problem isn´t aspiring to what you have found to be the truest and most authentic career and ideal lifestyle. No sometimes for many people the search is the hardest part and many would be distracted by a material world´s well honed rubbish think tank to keep them entertained until death.
But dedicating yourself to find what you love what you are good at and to what you can give yourself entirely to must be the noblest quest and by my words is the path to god!

Think of the fingerprint as a mixture of things that make up your life your emotions, instincts, hobbies, likes, dislikes, habits, hopes and dreams. Sure enough you share many things in common with others BUT never everything with anyone. We are simple codes but extremely different custom made for a world like this one, learning to assign ourselves to the correct roles should be sacrosanct.
Each of us has a purpose potential to become who we really want to become, sometimes we don´t have the personality or the physical traits to help us realize our goal, though few even get close to doing what they want to do most. The pursuit must matter for as cliche as it appears having a goal is more important than attaining it.

Success and failure
Success and failure are not just illusions but meaningless in the greater scheme. Short term success short term gain. Longterm premise to live is a longterm guarantee of greatness and satisfaction if it is what you have found to be a premise above all other ways of life or careers.
Success is wonderful in the moment but only a slave or a tool would believe success is the meaning of life.
Failure is gods hand either pushing you down or unseen by your own eyes lifting you up.
A person aware of their true vocation will continue their efforts life long if necessary, failure and success determine very little long term and determination determines with more certainty the frequency of such momentary acknowledgements. Failure and success don´t define life.
What defines life is finding the reason to live that is relevant to you and continuing toward that end naturally.
failure and success are as special as a product´s brand or slogan, at first they catch your eye and may inspire a smile or frown but really only aid in distracting you and keeping you in the slave perception that the material world demands.

Dishonesty and sin
The confusion of dishonesty is only encouraged by notions of failure and success. Fear to fail is the great underlying factor in most white collar crimes and other intriguing deceptions.
Learning from our mistakes what a funny concept. The funniest part is once again people preach the "learn from our mistakes" and continue to repeat their own mistakes. By this stage in human evolution you still actually here adults telling other adults to learn from their mistakes this is the surprising thing.
The mistakes are not happening again and again because of failure and success but because the person has no real authentic aim in life, passive existance renders him victim, a victim of an unfulfilled ideal and a bigger victim of dishonesty and all the diseases that accompany it.

The slippery slope
I watched an interview with a motorist who lost control on a curve on a road above a valley, his car rolled down the bank which proceeded the curve and paralyzed himself from the neck down and wrote off his car.
His excuse was feasible. He exclaimed that as he was making the turn the low late afternoon sun was shining directly into his eyes. He turned the wheel but the distraction put him off and off the curve he went.
However the stretch of road leading toward the curve was poorly maintained and there were untarred areas running into and out from the edge of the road almost touching the white broken lines in the middle. Also on the curve he failed to take, the gradient of the road sloped down toward the unpaved shoulder of loose stones where there was no barrier to stop his car from going over the edge. Was this not also a great contributor to the accident?  There wasn´t even a sign to warn of the impending curve!!!
Perhaps the most pathetic thing about this case was that the man blamed his accident on the time of day and his distraction during it. When infact the road itself was so poorly paved and maintained! Almost every notable detail of the road was engineered to cause such an accident.
Now the car was written off and so was the chances of the man ever walking again.
We can´t exactly repave the roads we drive on that we find inadequate. Though what we can do in our own lives to avoid unnnecessary harm is to curve and pave our own real paths in life.
This is only possible when we have the true premise to live.

King of dots

These dots and blotches
On the road and in the way
Time only to argue and leave
These dots how they mark a man

These blotches cause reflection
Cause confusion create illusion
reduce me to a my rudimentary self
Not my more refined detailed dimensions

These dots become vision
seeing is hard for daily life paints it
the heavy crown of a kings obligation
King am I said the lowly slave, king am I dot

She´s a bit like...

Like a woman
who wants something sweet in her life
Her mask came off and there was the girl
Thinking my purpose was make believe
Kind of girl who wants blue eyes on her
like blue skies in a summer above

Probably thinks the verse I write
 for her is only words
Type of girl who like to see the proof
before she can believe
I´ll try to move her with my words
My mind hovers on that

Germinated seeds of adoring appear
It´s not make believe the smooth fondness I wear(for her)
The kind of girl who can see the rhyme is just the surface
Has seen the truth right here in my very verses
flowing day in day out steadily and neat
She´s like the kind of woman who wants something sweet.

Joy if not currency

What is joy if not currency?
What are contented people but vessels of appreciation?
satelites of gladness in people's orbitation
What is well being if not the slowing of age?
But the offswitch of rage

What is the mouth smiling to full width?
But the heart warm and bubbly indicating upturned lips
Relief for the face
A letter in a language synonymous with laughter

What is joy if not currency
Merriment loans bequeathed
Goodwill being leased and released
Share it all

Between bounds of pleasant infatuation
and excitement´s hysterical giggle
Overpowering satisfaction
What is joy if not currency?

Hobby optimist(who thinks he nose poetry?)

Hobby optimist
curse my verse
between these sombre lines he found no wisdom

The hidden morals
elude him still his plight for bright
 his eyes are dim

So he gets out his tool kit and attempts
to fix the defects around him

Between feel good proof of his attitude
he can´t even smile to it´s full extent
There´s a false world he created with sturdy pretence

There´s a lier beating the boné behind the sternum.
The bland world of success that he strives is now filled with colours
that confuse his eyes.

He can´t shed a tear
Emotions are imprisoned in him and bottled there
Some of them shattered
to cause the emotional scars he bears

Each child he raised was a fair daughter
life continues to teach him to feel invain
A false optimist accounting and plain

Those sweet girls of his cried under his swinging belt
cried tears like rain, (fix that you unheartfelt)
He bet the hetero out of one girl and fertility out of the other

Hobbies and loud congratulations never meager
Each time he fixes something the praise inflates the ego
Smiles and anecdotes put away afternoon eagerly

His pure optimism skin deep as the whore
His pesty clandestine pessimism nips at his lower organs
Like lice that got ambitious for more gains

My dark rhyme bugs him like his own personal lesions
Each hobby optimist conceals his own hobbling demons
Consider me a reminder of the truth said not easily

Trouble eating?

Trouble eating?
You ate trouble and the tongue delighted
You ate the whole hen
congratulations

You ate the risk what a man
tell yourself that
Legends are likenesses almost lies

Don´t eat madness when you fail completely
An ocean of failure where some swim sweetly
shores of success tucked into fine bays guarded by rocks and morays

You ate the prize and the festival withit
You took the low price accepted the end without a start
without a fright when god farts you got trouble

I let it hanely you know that it´s sane
Part of me I call crazy
 Which part can you see?

Trouble you ate nw feeds on you freely
You snacked on it´s tail now it eats you whole meaty
Do you regret that?

Zero warmth

Sunlight late zero warmth
 The end of the day was cool but all expected enough heat
 to bring out sufficient joy
Blue sky morning hope is esential don´t you reckon

Blue sky miracle the sky could be a reason to survive
The love from people who don´t even know me
could be a grand reason for existance
Sunlight fell like elegant garments from angels

Don´t ask for anything else
 I heard the trees whisper as I worked
And enough warmth at two oclock to tickle
Enough to get halfway into a smile

But the afternoon caved in early as the end of autumn let´s it do
A hot afternoon was too much to expect
Relaxing sun had gone before i´d even kissed it
Like so many wonders I´ve lost this very year

Though zero warmth is felt a pregnant woman is slain in snow
The womb freezes like a meatworks storehouse
That hot love we all expect is often gone
Only beauty of hope on cool blue mornings prevents you from crying

I´ve got a apple for you too

Put your nose to the sky
Stand on the bridge and ignore me as I pass by
Snob me with excrement in your attitude
snob me good as I go past

You´re a silver dollar
a silver spoon waiting for a fat earner
and a lucky baby child
You´re a righteous spender

I´m in a tree still looking down on you
Turn your head away when you see me coming
Avoid me quick wow consequence thick in you!
You´re a sweet half grand hooker

So powder your nose tan your flesh elevate it on
those dozen heel shoes
get the pickup line cut it with the scissors
god made your mouth with

Yes snob me with style
work on your accent
Your princess guile
and your heart bulging with denial

I´ve got an apple for you shiny and ripe like your clothes are new
It´s the right shape but sadly it sits alone under a desk
In a class where the only thing students learn
is the shape of your tits!

Street calm(As i don´t erupt)

Street calm
There we go passing shops
Motion makes us drivers
motion makes us all over
moving I want to walk
Here we come rumble

along gutters cars parked as if they were always stationary
Here we come gamble
A ben stiller drain grade that could fall in with the rest of you
There they are laughing walking and going somewhere
the universe acompanies them
The slow moving car of youths follows them

Street calm exists
Step after step my shoes are used up
comfort is a pavement and allure
in the form of shop windows
and cheap illumination stimuli

Some of the old look down
the young up and the middle age worry brow
that bears the mark of a mobile prison
street calm and I have relaxed

Expressions matter
and some eyes flatter
but what I search for is not for chatter
High heels and horse hooves clickety clatter.

Peter metal worker

Thirty five years working in a factory
moulding metal for his wage.
He began as a young man in 1960 he wasn´t a curious man
or even very philosophical but he loved his family and wife
and humility often cradled him through whatever crisis hit his small world.
Metal dust and sharp leftovers coat his boots like icing
When he became a worker it was a noble job,
minerals that Brazil could turn into something hard and useful.
Drilling and cutting and fusing and melting all day,
sweat doesn´t leave the brow in summer.
The spread salt turn scent of metal forever in the nose.
Co-workers joke and sprinkle colour on the dry days
that active boredom pushes along.
The early morning lightens after coffee smiles and lights turn on.
The innocent amble of workers from one station to the next,
the humm and buzz of machines, humble men make their way back to their wives
at the end of the day just as thankful as they were on their fifth birthdays.

As the machines sung that hot afternoon in february 1991 Peter the metal worker
decided that soon he would open a bar. A small buisiness that would keep his family
on an even keel for the last quarter of his peaceful life.
The drill came down and burrowed into his project as he thought about his idea.
Calmness flowed on and he thanked god for his life and career.
Dozens of his work friends told him it was a cool idea and that they would personally show up
for the inauguration.
The days of february didn´t get any cooler infact the days temperature would hover around 35c
and at night wouldn´t even touch 20c. The factories where he worked would heat up even more
and most workers would have to take a rest and a shower before returning to work.
At first the managers tried to distract the workers off the idea, Peter was one of the workers that
did speak up. He said if they didn´t have the opportunity to rest and wash their health would be affected.
The managers took notice and started to observe the new rule, giving the workers alittle more time during
the lunch break to wash and rest.

Some of his best friends really suffered in the companíes they were working in other neighbouring towns
half of them ended up in hospital with heat exhaustion and other related ills.
Peter would visit them in the weekend and thought about how hard his job was at the time.
His dream of opening a bar started to take up more space in his mind.
By 1992 he had saved enough money to invest in a small local bar.
The problem was that he wanted something closer to a neighbourhood where he´d get enough customers
to make it worth his while. It was three more years of hard work on the factory floor before he had enough money to get his bar in the neighbourhood he wanted, which was also not even a rich neighbourhood
but was good enough to make a decent dollar.
1995 Peter bought his bar and all of his friends turned up just as they had said they would.
His wife gave birth the same year and a warmth came over his family that seemed to be unshakable.
One cold night in the middle of june when Peter and his family had gone to the beach, criminals broke into his house and stole everything that had any value. Totally cleaning him out. T.v, video player radio stereo microwave jewelry all gone.
Peter´s wife and parents were distraught and Peter spent the next few months trying to convince them that it was not so bad, even though there was no insurance for what they had lost.

It was september 95 and spring had come, Peter´s bar was making good money but he still hadn´t
bought back everything the thieves had stolen. He got a phonecall from the local supermarket that month though,
just to tell him he had won a car in a raffle, at first he thought it was some kind of scam.
Sure enough that day the manager from the supermarket made a visit to his house bringing the car there himself.
Peter thought to himself it would have to have been by his own extra work and saving that the family would fully recover from the burglary. He was wrong it was by the luck of his wife, it had also been specifically because of the burglary that she had put her name, phone number and receipt into the draw.
Peter´s family already had a car it was an old chevrolet monza he had bought in 1990, so he spoke to his wife and they decided to sell the new car they had won.
With the money they managed to buy back all the appliances that were stolen, refurbish the bar and paint the entire family house. Peter was a simple man but had never lost faith in everything turning out for the best. From the beginning Peter had been positive and humble, it was like god had thanked him directly.
Even though most would say these are small dreams, for this family they were a miracle. Peter himself felt blessed everyday even in the middle of the crisis the robbery caused within his family.
He never blamed anyone and his connection with his friends and god was never broken.

Gum girl(Menina gengiva)

Gum girl laughs
 and everyone sees the thick red mouth skin,
Laugh out loud
 before the small teeth before the red cliffs begin
shining red walls so proud!

Gum girls brain connects to it with nerves
saliva slips and coats it´s curves
They go through her jaw those huge gums
the air must make those exposed lumps numb

Those lil lips flick out and a sudden bulge is revealed
They´ll never ask her to say cheese to keep it sealed
There are muscles in that mouth hard as stone
Strong enough to crunch through her husbands bone

Grey freya

Grey freya friday is a void
Friday is married to thor
Freya to thursday what a bore
Drizzle and dark haze
Foreheads in the glare
Pollution navigates and fertility avoids me
Grey freya sent the stained cloud
like unwanted children
Where´s the Golden orchard
The harvest
 hope of a weekend

A round accepting face

No simple soul grew up in this body
My inspiration is a round face that accepts things at face value
No easy going  mood flowed through here
A pile of emotions knocks around like oars in a lost canoe

My face is not round
I don´t have any Faith
Thank god for that
Cause where I´ve put it it went

I´m not a member of the mass
common opinions make me splutter
Humble natured herd bred queue formers
Predictable gullible happy go Lucky lovers

Why is my brain another shape?
The simple pleasures don´t come at all
Why is my heart another shape?
Sometimes I wish I couldn´t feel at all

Breakfast for champions

Empty frypan
No food in there
Dirty kitchen dust and hair
Phone rings and my friend wrong number answers

We talk of philosophy bigotry
and the symmetry of the demons people elect.
The tone of hanging up starts sounding
like robots having sex.

I look out the window as if I´ve accomplished something grand
look down and catch myself holding hands
the fridge turns on like lorry changing gear
I eat nothing for breakfast in my underwear.

One of the lads

Casual he opens up with jokes and brags
getting a few laughs before the bus leaves
Cavalier doesn´t groom too much
just enough to catch a married woman´s eye

Addrenaline he said
The ring finger diamond
Life´s slim monotony
Monogomous symphony of half cooked boredom

He´s as naiive to the decadence as I now am to the resurgence
Hormones paint men and girls swallow theirs
He lends insinuation out to all a willing ear
Sex is the only thing that makes sense as one of the lads

Fed on idiocy

Destiny bet on my idiocy
He guaranteed my spot in the shade
Taught me to work with hands instead of my brain
Insisted on ignoring my opinions

Cut his thumb with an axe
Smashed the window with his head
Burst the bubble with bitterness
Taught clumsiness instead

Where´s my trophy, fate?
Where´s my ten grand?
Why wasn´t I the manager?
Why was I the workhand?

Generosity is the reason
And the position to give
If I have Money you´ll be thankful
that I lend it so you live

He said work hard not smart and stay in the shadow
You can do it my way or cut grass in the meadow
I´m the boss he says and Always does favours
And you´re noone son so just say thank you, you best behave.

Reach yourself seperated

Then you get back...  darkness
You lie down fool...  lonely
You try to reach yourself... seperated
Then you sleep...  Forgetful

You pray and you talk and nothing will be given to you.
You help yourself, faiths a dripping tap.

You cry and you plead nothing will be yours
maybe darkness and lonliness, now lie down and sleep

Then you get up... false optimism
You hope well... foolish notion
You appeal...  to ignorance
Work is your love... emptiness

Now you open the door to nothing
Noone loves you step outside
You beg for something real
Illusions embrace you

You fall forward into someones laughing gossip
back down on a cold floor alone

How monotonous it is to complain
how damn useless are your tears in vain.

Student Mauricio

English as a second language
Rebounding off his inner ears and around his brain.
The words enter easily enough like drunk horses riding toward a river
and not stopping to save themselves from drowning.
The deep water is not a lack of understanding the sudden rocks
and waterfalls are not a learning deficiency, no portuguese is the river.
The drunken horses splash into the water going under or injuring themselves on rocks
Some of them manage to get to the other side "his brain"!
While a few of the horses go under and lose their existance
Now the horses have arrived in his brain and are sober and shiny now
Mauricio puts saddles on them and grooms them well,
once in a while he gets up on them and rides them into a conversation
sometimes he falls off when the hooves of the horse begin to gallop.
He feeds the horses monday to thursday with teacher´s grain and grass.
It´s not quite enough to maintain the poor beasts and they end up eating the grass
that´s already growing on the side of the river, great clumps of portuguese grass
that confuses the horses and makes them ride wonky like.
Mauricio called his horses to attention with his rock music that fought it´s way
through his ear drum across the river and to where the horses were grazing.
This helped alittle bit, but what they needed was some real training and some good food
That mauricio could give them by doing his homework.
Of course the word homework tried to enter into Mauricios inner ear but his brains
own UFC fighters were called onto to knock it out of his vocabulary forever.
So the horses had difficulty getting faster and riding well and each conversation
meant the brain had to compensate for the information that was missing or
misinterpreted. The end result was coherent but wishy washy.
There were some really strong sober english horses in mauricios brain now
and even though their diet wasn´t perfect and they needed more training
they could ride.
Though Mauricio dreamed of racing one of the english horses to be a champion
and felt guilty that perhaps he could be doing alot more to make his horses "Perfect"
so he started to do his homework and extra study.
At first the horses would only perform during a canter pronouncing each stride well enough
But then something miraculous happened the horses galloped from his portuguese thinking mind
into his mouth to speak perfect english.

Slave´s burden

Shackles and masks
Burn and sting of the whip
Profit and labour
Servitude and submission

Nightmares in the grass
Broken back mining
Cotton sacks and tobacco barrows
Smirking smoking bearded drivers

Wickedness for centuries
Condemnation of a people
Identity rusted, broken and buried
Generations of vintage bottled hate ready to be opened onto the world

The cold touch of a ghost

In bed trying to sleep
The empty house makes tapping noises
Darkness and cool air
turning around in bed

Visions of the grey blue unidentified spectre
Then the hand of something icy on my shoulder
Distant whispers
yet no fear have I found

I turn face first into the spirit
I howl and the horrific frustration leaks out
The coldness disappears
I slip into REM

Behind those glasses

Before my feel had a word for attraction
Before flesh could touch and lust could bunch
After I blunt the knife of a soft-toy curly distraction
A woman stepped in to shed alittle light

Behind those glasses
Under that glat dark hair
Would there be a chance?
Is life that fair?

Before the wilderness in her neck
Her voice that calms my beastly mind
Above my boisterous heart speckled
and around a restless soul tongue tied

Behind those glasses I found a muse, a girl, a source
Words will shape themselves around her
strange truth in beauty will be formed in verse
Before stars fall I may wish to see her again of course

Between the hedgerows

Moving as the wind we move
as a dream we move
3 degrees warmer between the hedgerows
Flowing through fields like souls roving

The sunshine rides with us
onboard the earth
sweet afternoons follow eternity
A place where orchards vibrate between hedgerows

As you dream and your body moves
you come too to the infinite afternoon
You come too as if magic carpets were our squires
Some blessings come when you sleep

Peter puritanical scapegoat finder

Peter catholic market garden
Holzbach, herbst ist voll und stärk
Und tritt ich ohne heimat.

Bald and edgy Peter had some theories
So well coated in insinuation
impossible to interpret
between the rows something made sense

No artificial herbi- fungi- pesti-cide
but an enemy had to be established
And an innuendo well cared for
Peter From Holzbach

Email doesn´t exist
And i´m as foreign as the disease
taking over your mind
read Albert schweizer aloud

And look at me as if I was the devil
it´s a natural earth I want it too
Du blödderkopf wissen sie echt garnichts?
The only thing dirty on me is the soil on my hands

And I worshipped the smell of it
the freedom of it
the good bacteria
the planting until the harvest

And you insulted me with pomp
derided me like a mealy bug before the spray
All that was missing from your expression
was your schutzstaffel aufzug.

Councillors and womanizers

Councillors and womanizers
Promiss alot and end up give little
 Just guarantee a place with space to profit

A man like this makes the story complex
 to get and profit personally in the process
The stupid masses like to complain
about situations that won´t change
 with the same amount of bitterness

The middleclass puts the blame on the poor without mercy
 the working class puts the blame on other´s envy
 god´s anger or old superstitions

The politician is pardoned
 just like a womanizer
 well dressed, rich and very skilled in the art of lying

The honest man excluded
 He won´t survive in the political game
 Play and waver in the dating game

The honest man is easily assasinated in character because he shares more
The lying man who knows how to lie
 will know how to cover his defects with vigour and precision

So for the lier
 Denying accusations
Taking others credit
 Bragging gives him the upper hand
Appearances are more important than truths

Karl from Cairns(landscape and associates)

Taking it one step at a time
Climate hits him peace in time
A bushwacker an addrenaline junkie
And every other kind of roughneck you can imagine

Taking it five steps forward with daughters
Farm fresh retreat from the cities plush pretence
Karl knows the tourist disneyland that the city centre is
Pale children in the heat dark "abos" without soap in the street

Part German part torres straight
Weedeating lawnmowing hedgecutting rate
One of my best friends in the semi continent of australia
As man as me in the tropics snakes and George biting us all day

Randy half drunk the direction our laughter was in
Me redbull high by midday taking the piss when I needed to go
randy´s bragging of an italian neighbour hole in the fence fling
karl and I were sceptics as randy laughed until he cried.

Sincerity or needy victims

Liers or esteemed success stories
Round every dicey subject they hide from the truth
Making their life story perkier
Their level of cool way high
And the illusion they´re stronger than they are

Sincerity or needy victims
Facing the conartist with indignation
Crying tears at their short comings
Being real at the expense superficial imagery
The truth is never the truth without lies

Who lives better?
Trust is a resource
a lier won´t value
Games are insulting for the sincere
at heart

Who suffers more?
The lonliness of liers in denial
scars the inside of the heart
The lonliness of those who embrace sincerity
scars the outside just as much

Superkid

His face goes red
he shouts and he repeats and repeats
He get´s the top marks
He kicks the most goals

His sadness is so deep and very protected
You could call it a well
he derides the other kids
becomes restless and hyperactive

His conscience is intact
His brain monitors his souls and vice versa
his heart interrupts but gets told to shut up
Someone´s not listening to him it´s not life

His grandmother´s eyes are lacking compassion
there´s a rage dry and piled high waiting for a spark
Cool and ignored he´s a champion among children
His will goes further his strength, makes us stronger

A plane ticket for a european

A plane ticket the most authentic thing
out on the pavement
Family marriage has given it to you made
brag oh yes jobless

Yeah the middle of the classroom is where he used to be
he was a wellmannered colleague in relation to me
Things got a little friendly and his care for the job relaxed
the warnings went unheeded cauliflower ears full of wax

Playgrounds and studyrooms empty now forever
deals and agreements plucked like fowl´s stuck feathers
Cavalier and whore mongering often
Show´s over and the fat lady didn´t even fill a coffin

A plane ticket your only credential
one day you´ll go back days no longer so sunfilled
Cut and run like a jailbreaker with a headstart
like a brown man in a dreamland with no greencard

Guavas a nation´s envy

Guavas a nation´s envy

The round plump fruit skin smooth or lumpy
Why would it be better in another country
Fuller jucier and sweeter than the promise land
What treats could this one produce from the jam making hand?

The tropics compete in subtle yellow shades and varied sizes
quality of the creamy pink inner flesh will be judged
The name will be dropped and a monopoly will rise
like an incriminated corporation that won´t budge

That dry motley trunk that curves and sheds it´s skin like snakes
Holding bucket loads of sweet round fruit orchard planned
The perch for many a seed spreading parrot´s sake
The cause for envy among producers of guava jam

The colour of flags will be stained
Violent harvests now those farmers neglect grains
There can be no real blame
Because like alot of fruit it all tastes the damn well same

Hanging four leaf clovers

Read the book

it´s a best seller
I didn´t have time as I burst through a cheftains house
Out onto the varanda where men in grass skirts greeted me
I was the savage

They both looked at me
tried with their accents to calm me
Their art and their magic didn´t throw me from the dream
They pointed to between hanging herbs
They told me to touch the vine of fourleaf clovers

I inquired into my veins own ambition
Luck a child´s idol the appeal was painted on my veins
I the savage queried if i might learn to cultivate
They sold me the book
The sacred charm and a necklace i´d never wear

Bouncing around in raptures so and so

There´s no balance

Gravity has departed like a friend you once depended on
Now colours merge and burst and appear and disappear
Superstition was once a toy played with until it broke

Spirituality and philosophy little edges a rock climber can get his fingers into
Religions the stagnant dead lakes full of venemous serpents
Beds of nails on which astray minds have found sense and sensation
There´s no truth but the one you´re stuck with now

Rolling around in a womb a diamond fingered womb if any
Bouncing around in raptures so and so
Waiting to be born into something more real
there´s no balance and mystery has the upper hand

I´ll tickle your mind for a while
Stroke your desire for a paper machete world
Caress your need for a hard platform to stand on
There´s no balance as you reach for someone´s hand

Will power

Will power

Will I have the power to attract the rest of this years goodness.
For Will I keep going until the great beauty is mine praytell
I will a great new beauty near one that´s bound to do me well
Will I get exactly what I´ve been willing for so long now

Deaf ears the heavens simply watch but don´t listen today
Well I´d trade alot to hold someone like the one I´ve willed
I will get there eventually I hear them say
If I still pray and hope everyday will pretty baskets lay empty on my doorstep

I will it all and I´ll take it slowly when it walks into my life.
Will I complain at the trials it takes just to get a reply
I will not be a failure or a success in other´s eyes
I´ll be the kind of man who sees life after each try.

Cold river mine(cannibals)

The snow drifts would follow.

New miners came into the camps.
Looking for a warm dry spot to rest their heads after toiling.
The Vicious winter seemed to reflect mercilessly off the winding river.
Urine soaked ice from outside of the huts, the latrine was no longer visible.
Fires burned in each one keeping the miners warm enough.

But there was on very big problem one of the huts contained cannibals.
They weren´t cannibals because they love violence.
Or even because they didn´t get enough sustainance out of beans and mash.
No they were cannibals(two men and one woman) since their parents bought them up on human steaks.

Two new miners had entered the hut that morning and the cannibal miners had already
laced one of the two men´s food and drink with a drug to make him paranoid and hallucinate
After induced the cannibals Joe(cleanshaven younger man) and wisconsin(older bearded)man(the two men) convinced Jeff(the new miner) that the
other miner that arrived with him had been stealing from him, but if he acted they wouldn´t expell him
from the hut. Joe showed Jeff the items in the other man´s pack which Joe and Wisconsin had both put there
to make it look like the other guy was stealing. Jeff was angry confused and scared at the same time.

The other new guy James arrived and by this time Joe and Wisconsin had been feeding Jeff´s head on all sorts of conspiracy nonsense. As soon as James entered Jeff leaped on him hitting him with both fists.
James was knocked unconscious. Joe went out of the room and came back with a strange looking sharp bladed instrument and told Jeff if he wanted to stay in the hut he would have to cut a piece off of james to prove he didn´t tolerate such blatant dishonesty.
Jeff started to feel nauseas and sick the effect of the drugs was really kicking in and the gravity
of the situation mixed into it making it even more sour and overwhelming.

Jeff picked up the instrument and started to cut a piece off his friend.
When he was done he fainted, so Joe and wisconsin decapitated him and took his body over the hill and buried it in the snow. As for James who was now awake and moaning from under a gag he couldn´t belive what had happened. There was now a girl there aswell Terry she had a big grin on her face. Wisconsin was roasting the piece of skin that Jeff had cut from his abdomen. They all seemed very happy.
James Looked out the window as the snow came down, what a nightmare he´d found himself in.
As if mining wasn´t the worst job! And now he faced a band of cannibals.

The fire crackled and the room grew warm, it was almost that false sense of comfort that
livestock must get before the kill because james felt himself relax slightly on account of the pleasant temperature. He was drowsy and before long dozed off.

He woke up early in the morning by the side of the river, most of the flesh from his legs was taken off
He could hear himself wail but it was almost as if it wasn´t coming from him.
His bum and legs were naked and frozen stuck on a rock beside the water.
The water passed by normally as if all this that had happened to him was normal.
He went back to sleep and dreamt of floating down the river on a tree back to civilization
back to somewhere people didn´t tear you apart for dinner.

Garden nelson

Garden nelson

Did you water the roses fair man
What a simple life you live
When soil and worms are your employees
Weeds and fungus run the side fence.

Garden nelson
You´ll see him mowing the lawn
Mowing and humming down style
Cutting back the hedges with pursed lips
Adding mulch amaniac with gloves.

Garden nelson

New tree plantings and the owner of the house pulls them all out
He says plant them all again you dope
And old Gardennelson does what he´s been told
The simple life as bland as a slave´s

Beside neglect

What´s in her(beside neglect for you)

What´s behind those lips
Whew! I´ve Heard her talk and it doesn´t fit
But that mouth could simply kiss
And make an ounce a pound of wist

What´s behind all that mind junk
Enough room for some fantasies I´d fancy
Good enough to share
Though your voice works gossip broad

As young men pine in their dozens
Envy finds your friends and cousins
Yet you speak a trivial piece
The one the world wants to hear the least

What´s under those clothes say´s my morning
She picks up on my flirt and drops it like bucket
Invents some kind of ruse to keep me going
Keeps me in the hundredfold neglect locket

The skin grows back

The skin grows back

I´ve opened up a furnace especially
It was as hot as a volcanoes heart
The burns were superficial
Though the skin slipped off like art

Layers were blackened
almost destroyed
Concerns were slackened
it couldn´t burn joy

And as the red and black surface
came to my colour again
It´s true it could be alot worse
If i were any more vain.

Owing noone(Japanese girl)

Owing noone

Strict she knows not take aloan
haircut a bowlcut she´ll go it alone
behind spectacles
and Japanese tradition

Severe she knows
Not to take joke
and trust each unit of her laugh
to some funny fellow trying to make spass

Rigid encyclopedia
How she lists the scientific names
All by herself
Hardwork and a good helping of selfblame

Austere Not a hand from anyone
Not a kiss on the cheek
Not a pleasant word said
Exterior meek
(spass: Fun in German)

Beans Beer and pudding

Beans beer and pudding

What more could you want
It´s a diet for some
A lifestyle for others
Moorish for the glum

Beans all mashed and pleasant
Beer frothy and bubbly
Pudding creamy heaven sent
enzymes start the digestive rubbing

Bean Beer and Pudding
Flavour is what you should think
add alittle chili a chug and cherry
Three things showing drones how to be merry

Simple things in life that make the humble sing
Beans beer and alittle good good pudding

Gangnam style (the story behind it all)

Like all things that turn into a phenomenon there´s usually a funny story behind it all
In this case Mr Gangnam´s career as a smuggler between the North/South korean border

Like many foods exist in different countries and sometimes
one country cannot prove for certain who actually came up with the recipe.
Or where the true dish was made for the first time.
Between Canada and the States it´s apple pie.
Between Germany and Austria it´s schnitzel.
Between Argentina and Brazil it´s Barbecued beef.
Australia and new zealand Pavalova.

Can you guess which food divides the Kores?
 Yes it´s KIMCHI spicy vegetables pickled overtime.
The point is South Korea always had access to the rest of asia´s and the world´s food and
North Korea closed itself off. As one of the things peasants in north korea make the most, KIMCHI
became like an art and most connoisseurs around asia would get KIMCHI on the blackmarket from the north.
Few in the west Comment but the KIMCHI in south Korea doesn´t have the same tanginess.
So between the borders were young teenage Koreans who would smuggle the KIMCHI across from the totalitarian north to the free south.
Psy Gangnam was one of those smugglers and earned a pretty penny crossing no man´s land with that
real asian sauerkraut.

He was hired at sixteen by one of his father´s friend´s who owned a food emporium at first he would be able to dress up as school boy and pretend he was lost, this got him over the border both ways and allowed him to earn the money that funded his obsession with matchbox cars. The soldiers would stop him often to look in his bag, it was always full of KIMCHI but the guards believed it was his lunch and that he was a stupid peasant, so they let him through.

But then South Korea figured out the fact kim chi was being moved and became highly offended by the fact that their own KIMCHI was not as good as the north.
South korean officials were very upset and the walls and watchtowers were enforced and agents were dispersed. The borders were now fortified and lots of smugglers were caught.
Psy Gangnam wasn´t caught though and continued his escapades.
All border surveillance had become much more extreme, there were spotlights now.
Young Gangnam despite being alittle fat(also obsessed with south korean dumplings) could run very fast and as he climbed through tunnels and sneaked through alleys, border guards found it difficult to catch him.
At the main corridor between north and south Psy would have to run atleast 25 metres between spotlights, the guards had also mounted a heavy machine gun on the south Korean side. Though none of the guards had had any formal training, They were encouraged to shoot anyone on sight by the officials.

One night when psy was making his rounds the spotlight caught him and the guards in the tower primed the gun!
Psy ran close to the wall using it to launch himself up as the bullets ricocheted off the concrete all around him. He managaed to get through and slip into a drain just big enough to accomodate his beer belly.
The Guards were enthralled by his antics and when the boring routine of daily life started the very next day they watched the security camera footage again and again.
Psy was told he could resign if he wanted to by his father´s friend and was paid quite a sum for his smuggling.
The first thing psy did was buy the most expensive and most comfortable running shoes he could find.
And started dance lessons to improve his agility on the run.
He went back to his boss and asked if he could do one more load!
His boss and his father cautioned him and told him it was suicide.
He showed them his new shoes and said "They´ll never have a chance now that I have these amazing shoes!"

So Psy went out again across the border for north korean KIMCHI. He thought this time he would be able to sneak his way between the spotlights so that the guards wouldn´t notice him and if push came to shove he would run and they wouldn´t be able to get him. Though as soon as he was out of the alley he heard footsteps behind him and wouldn´t have time to sneak through the lights. So he sprinted and both spotlights went on him and the machine guns opened up. But there were no ricochets and he could hear music coming from the watch tower they were playing mc hammer "Can´t touch this" as psy was making his springy escape. The guards were shooting blanks on purpose!
He could see another guard in no mans land with him, it looked like an RPG on his shoulder. "Oh no" it was a video camera he was being filmed!

Psy did get by the guards but felt as though he was being mocked thus giving up his smuggling career
but it didn´t matter he had enough money to keep himself going for along time and between dance competitions and matchbox cars he didn´t have time for anything else when...

A few years later an entertainer got his hands on the footage, the entertainer was very rich much like Psy Gangnam´s father´s friend. Infact the two knew each other, it wasn´t long before Psy Gangnam was called up to star in a pop video and from there make history! So now you know the real story of gangnam and KIMCHI! But don't tell many people because not everything you read is true.

What the desert claims

What the desert claims

Eyes it reels in
sandy mountains dune after dune
On the edge of a poor civilization older than the bible
The smell winds like a trickle up the nose

The date palms tall and thick
shade the small plantations
Form lovehearts between valleys of rock
Smothering peak after peak fifty degrees celsius

A union is broken before the sandy expanse
The blue sky always fresh never weathered like the lives
of poor humble villagers
textile dye their only livelihood

Sandstorms kick up and the wind becomes one with land
enveloping villages and oasis
Sending clouds of darkness over the rippled wilderness
The desert claims it all

Pleasure in plenty

Go and get it
Toward being a bigger man
That´s where I´m sent
What is meant
Who I am

Shopfront attendants search for products
Go after unconvinced bucks
comission earned luck
hourglass sand

Pay me no mind young woman fit
Just go out the back and get it
Make a sale no regretting
Hobby life brands

I see fear in their eyes I´m the intruder
In a funny way it´s translated rude
She turns her head to exclude
As I imagine her nude
alas bland

So I say go and get it you two bit useless wench
It´s me on on top of you over a clean bench
Ankle to the inner thigh shameless drench
Go and get it while I try to make a dent
My love elevates BUT doesn´t pay rent
Stays erect in the folds is not a tent
Indoor outdoor pleasure in plenty

You are the centre of the world

Centre of the world

It´s all about you
Like big brother was filming you
to make a seperate film
... So important your every move recorded by clandestine spies.

It´s all about you
Some quietly worship you
in another land- another time- another dimension-
You are the secret celebrity

The one they talk of under their breathe
You are such a wonder and all of a sudden
those hidden cameras pick up your life
An audience somewhere watches you undress

Whether they´re laughing or woohooing you go to bed feeling special
aware of your figure and how your died dried out hair nestles

You talk to your friends and not one gets a word in
So special such a unique outburst of shallow chatter
mish mash of your dreams with old mayonnaise
A splash of used bathwater from your mouth

You are no celebrity
You are not special
Noone is watching you
So calm down and shut up

Integrity´s number

Do a number on your integrity

Courage shapes me as i wake to the world
Clear eyes to see the swift swooping accusations
you send my way
... trying to do a number on what I have to say

Honesty rounds me off
leaves me with the face I have
Search for clues within it
There´s no truth that lying hands can grab

Dissuade me from greatness
use me as a ladder
there´s no longer any fat
As you fall and empty bladder

Do a number on me if you dare
Moral judgement well impaired
I turn the clock forward round
To when your lies and spite are found there

Overcome this integrity
Oh the deception grows
your mind can´t keep up
You fell in your own unlucky hole

What a web you´ve spun
But you are not the spider
we have seen your thread
You as a lier with nowhere to bed nowhere to hide

You´d do a number on me godforgiving
No confession chamber will fit your damned living

Tickle eyes and run away

Provoke my interest and drop me

Poke at the real me
Flirt enough to tickle eyes
Breathe when you talk
... Unsatisfied sighs

Stretch your fine legs and tease me
When I confront shy away
The push and pull of love aint easy
Is that why so many are afraid

Stare once in a while
keep your eyes to yourself
Your feminine denial
can´t be good for your health.

Catch my attention
get me on your hook
Not another mention
Shelf me like a book

Start the inferno and hide the water
Why play with fire hideous daughter
My veins course with liquid metal
My hardened heartbeat won´t settle

Disguard these new cares
These nobodies who reach out to drop you

Mother that raised

The mother that raised me

A struggle of the mind
A force of the will she carried with her
To bring me into the world
... A son such as me

Out into the light i was thrown
her and god conspired
Into doctors hands screaming
Slapped down and cut away from flesh

Love coloured years
with her understanding
her real care
Love formed my conscience

The mother that raised me
Brought me around from some other plane
To give me a taste of the earth
To give me it´s wells and ills

When she was the centre of the world
I faltered knowing a cushion would be there
When I fall today the concrete´s flavour is full
And her kind words distant

Has she created what should aspire as rather
The portrait and the essence of a future father?

The tall girl

The tall girl unsure

The uncertain always flirting like she is with me
Half enticing half doubtful
Such a hard working girl that´s for sure
From across the room aura cool

Hair straight and blended darkly
the corners of her mouth make shapes
that drain my heart of the hurts of the day
and form the smile that I tried to convince her the world likes

Long legs and ripely toned skin
Her voice calmly surrounds my ears
word by word I feel soothed
Relaxed and at the same time moved

Her giggle warns me I´m staring
her eyes ask me if I do indeed dare
Nothing´s black and white and life´s unfair
If I was her man I wouldn´t want to share

Standing man(Javaes)

Many boast not to believe in the supernatural.

Many find the idea of ghosts laughable. Though I would challenge anyone to stay just one night
in the house on Javaes street.
Few know the story, history seems to pass in Brazil and people forget easily.
The house itself is over two hundred years old.
Rumours are easily related to such places but one hundred years ago the house was at the centre of the neighbourhood and probably housed a considerable sized family.

It´s been atleast forty years since the house has been abandoned and the last owner was not considered responsible for the haunting. Now "haunting" is a very broad word and can have many meanings, here it manifests itself in the form of sounds and shadows. To be specific the sounds are of people crying and the reason it has such appeal is the neighbours are literally woken out of deep sleep at 3.00am by this crying. On many occasions the police were called but the house was always empty and the crying had ceased before the police had opened the gate which was heavy and well locked up.

As a test one night some very sceptical men were asked to test their theory that there was "No such thing as a haunting". The two men camped inside the property even though they were asked to stay inside the house to prove there were no ghosts. By 12.30am they were lying on the other side of the property´s gate one of the men had broken his ankle. The men said they were attacked by ants, the neighbours however confirmed that the crying had begun earlier that night. And the house had made strange noises like kids running around over the wooden floorboards in there. The sceptical men who had stayed the night just dismissed the accounts to hide their cowardice. And when it came to explain how the ants had attacked there were no ant bites and both men had lesions from climbing and falling down from the security gate.

Months after this some children broke into the property one afternoon, and played around the outside of the house. They must have been there not more than half an hour when it was said they found the body of a child unscarred but lifeless. They ran out of there and told their parents. The parents went there with the police and found nothing where the body was to ahce been found the grass was long and erect showing nothing had weighed it down. ofcourse the kids were simply scolded and the incident forgotten. Though nobody liked going to the house and superstition fed whatever presense there really was.

The rumour that circulates the most is that during the house being abandoned a homeless man broke in and started living there. The house had been abandoned for sometime when this old hobo
went to live there. Anyway story goes the guy´s girfriend went there one night to visit him(yes this charming bum had a girlfriend) and when she went to the door she could see him through the window as if he was waiting for her. She opened the door greeted him and went to go to the kitchen, the man didn´t turn around. She walked back to him looked him in the eye and tried to get a response, he wasn´t responding. She ran out of the house and called the neighbour who in turn called the police and ambulance. The medics that arrived told the man´s girlfriend that he had been dead for more than twenty four hours. She didn´t believe it though for the homeless man wasn´t so old and notably she had found him on his feet standing in a position that would have made it impossible for him to be dead.

As the ambulance took the body and the police cleared off the woman stayed there on the steps crying. Police and ambulance workers leaving the scene said the woman had a small child with her who was also crying. The girlfriend of the man dismissed it as ridiculous and affirmed she hadn´t any children. Noone believes any of the story. But neighbours who live on the leftside and look into the property which faces the front door say in autumn at dusk they see the figure of a man through the stainglass door window pains standing as if waiting for someone.
On those nights the crying is the loudest. Rent is very cheap in that part of the neighbourhood. And few even know the tale of Javaes street.

Edward´s makeover

Edward was in his thirties and going bald.
He enjoyed life his job and family etc.
Life was good though subtly there was a certain amount of complacency.
Often he´d go out looking a mess and his wife´s friends would comment
not sparing in detail or bluntness.
Edward would get upset during the conversations about his choice of dress and unshaven face etc.
He would scow at his wife´s tone.

Though months of complaining had worn poor Edward down
So as he was taking the bus home from his job he met a younger woman.
her name was kelly she was talkative and energetic and asked all sorts of ridiculous questions
about what edward thought about the horoscopes etc and modern fashion. Edward got reeled
into her silly conversations and pretended to really relate even though he was at odds
understanding most of what Kelly was talking about.
She had orange dye in her brown hair and turned her head right around
each time she started a new a sentence. As if she had a completely new idea each time.

Before edward got out of the bus kelly gave him her card which was for the local
beauty salon. She told him to go down there and check it out.
Edward scoffed as he got out of the bus- beauty salon, as if!
But one week the day Edward took the day off and went down to the salon
in his finest clothes unbeknownst to his wife.
He arrived at  door and shivered alittle not just because he was embarrased but because
he was quite unconfident about the whole deal as he had told himself that he wouldn´t
be doing anything like that.

He tried to look confident and jumped through the door as he pushed it open
as if arriving out of nowhere, hadn´t worked though, most of the girls working in there
had seen the balding edward considering himself before he´d even arrived at the door.
Kelly poked her head out from one of the old lady´s heads that was being worked on.
She burst out crying and Edward stood and looked in shock! Actually she wasn´t crying at all
she was only laughing so hard that it appeared that she was crying.

Edward went as red as a cherry and knowing his own embarrasment showed started to shiver
Now all the girls working there were laughing.
So kelly walked up to him confidently and plopped him into a seat.
She said to him -Listen you really need a makeover let me and the girls do it for you today-!
He was completely won by her charm and asked-What´s the damage for a whole makeover-.
Kelly said to him-Ah don´t worry about the money, this is too important-!
So kelly instead of setting up the area herself asked one of her friends to come over and do it
for her. Then she went around the counter and disappeared.
The girl who worked on him was very brutal and cut him shaving twice
She hurt his ears when she pulled them back to cut his hair.
And applied moisturizer to his face getting a wad in his mouth.

Edward hated every minute but when he was done all the girls there
complimented him except kelly who´d gone out for lunch and never returned.
Edward wanted so much to show her as the other girls had been so flattering in their words.
No luck Kelly wouldn´t have cared in the slightest anyway the man was a joke to her.
The manager who was a man stuck his ugly face out of the counter and said -That´s going to
be $250 please plus tax. Edward almost pissed his pants right there and then that money was for his wife´s birthday.
On the way home Cars went passed tooting their horns and pulling the middle finger.
A couple of gays stopped by him and tried to offer him a ride home. He refused bitterly
and they just laughed.
He got home early that day only to find one of his bowling friends sex with his wife.
But instead of them being surprised they turned around both naked on the kitchen table
and said -So you finally came out of the closet?

Autumn buttons

The autumn still
Warm and forgiving
Summer broke and a new heat rises
A giggle breaks into the mouth
A dry giggle

We do and we be under the sun
We screen and push buttons under it´s clouds
We mind and we find
lack of interest under blue skies
A dry smile

We seek and we peak
We love and we shove
While grand days come
Great weather delivered
Autumn as the windless air

Autumn as the dried leaves
I live the season as if I myself was the breeze in it

The moist mattress

The mattress that is stained yellow infant nightmares
Thrown out on the curbside
Lifted up into a tree by a tornado
A forest of trees animals and leaks

Don´t fall now
turn and become a crybaby zombie
Twilight twilight my mattress dreams highlight
I´m the grey traveller leave meon the precipice

The world collapses like a bed on top of a tree
Midday civilization of crying zombies
Cage your animals
Seal your leaks and clean the tree with your tears.

Pieces of our hearts

Pieces of our hearts are conserved in jars
Far out of reach cameras to film us attempt to grasp
The glass is not transparent
But ornamental and decorated

Pieces of our hearts we can never have returned to us
Yearning to open the jars
put the missing piece back in us like a puzzle
Words of love don´t escape our lips locked in a muzzle

Pieces of our hearts pulsate in cold acidic woman water
Uncaring and vain the flavour when it´s drunken by the adventurous
before his core is cut and extracted to fill the murky liquid
pieces of our hearts preserved alas not ours anymore

The lucky girl

The lucky girl falls in love with her own likeness
A mirror can never substitute the fruits of politeness

Thankyou so much- your welcome
Welcome to try your luck, kick up a flirt
Thank you so much for the tools of ambiguity

An ego may inflate when each request for a date is met with:
"It´s a bad day for me"
And a heart may deflate, hope attempts to live
The grey lenses just darkened a shade

Make up and etiquette
Some lucky girls take a course
Sweet sounding blindfold white lights
They stretch when the truth is forced

The mirror can never replace bedside manner
Few true men who really love in this hospital of a world
Their hearts pierced and hammered

Mirrors and Politeness(thanks for saying please)

Mirrors and Politeness

"Leading you on?", "I was just being polite!"
She manifests...
Her ego is a stomach, her self esteem a neglected child
As each man continues to ask her out,
she leaves it open like a box of makeup on her dresser.

SEMIPOEM
Men
We´re like numb sheep bouncing into electric wire
continuing the idiocy of injecting denial
rejection after rejection
She just floats and kisses the mirror
wanting to get one more smitten blokes request
to get him hoping

Yes we men like cats that bite our own tails
just enough tease from skirts to make us dizzy
then forget us like bread going stale
Like soda losing it´s fizz
The Self esteem is vital the ego must get payed
It´s none of your buisiness

Tom (past fifty)

Fifty on your own(short story)

Tom had had such a busy career.
It wasn´t like he regreted his life, Tom loved the time he use to put into his job. But the one thing he always wanted was a woman in his life.
Unfortunately getting dates didn´t come easy and maintaining a relationship for more than three months was even harder. But now Tom was fifty years old and it was as if he´d just woken up to the fact he was completely alone. All the money he´d saved and all the work he´d done really accounted for very little.
The shock of realizing such lonliness had been making him vomit each morning before work.

So Tom went about his buisiness as usual and tried to ignore the fact that he would probably live his older years without a family or even offspring.
It seemed almost impossible(to find someone) after a month he forced himself into all sorts of awkward predicaments that ended in him being completely humiliated by the potential mate.
Nights disturbed him even more.
As Tom realized how really alone he had become, he rang one of his treasured ex girlfriends that would still talk to him and tried to convince her to go out one night. Though she had already started a really great relationship with a man who had twice the patience he had had and seemed to get along better with her in almost every sense. Tom´s ex girlfriend had never been more happy in her life, Tom felt a little happy that atleast she had figured things out and found someone great. He felt good for her. He was afterall a very caring man even if he was impatient often doing favours for other people even when he knew it wouldn´t benefit him very much.

Tom started taking medication so that he might sleep better, it did make a huge a difference, he seemed to be even more efficient in his job. Tom even started a fling with a woman called Elizabeth who was much younger. But every time he advanced to make it more serious she would back away in horror. Each time she did that, it troubled him so much so that after a few months he left her. Even though Elizabeth cried and rang him asking him to reconsider, Tom knew he was not essential in her life but some sort of convenient love Elizabeth fooled herself into thinking was significant.

Tom started drinking again like he did in his forties and feeling sorry for himself, he still managed to hold down his job even as he was nearing his sixties, as he neared retirement he started to join clubs where he would meet other mature adults. He meet a women there his age Nancy and they hit it off.
Tom loved to play cards with her and their newly found friends at the club where they went. Tom went off the meds and found himself able to perform on autopilot at work and come home to Nancy full of energy and inspired at night, they spent one glorious month together really connecting and Tom just couldn´t empty his head of all the things he wanted to do with nancy.
He even thought of resigning so they could travel together. The second month of their relationship started and Tom thought about asking for her hand. Even though they were now in their late fiftes he was totally convinced.

Nancy responded in her mind "Yes", she had already imagined Tom proposing and felt just as passionate about their relationship as tom did, though later on the same day Tom would propose, Nancy had had an accident! She was halfway between the gutter and the sidewalk semiconscious after tripping on the gutter and having her legs runover by a car. She bled to death there. The worst thing was the driver hadn´t even noticed he had run her down and crushed her legs. The accident happened when Nancy slipped and slid unknowingly into a blindspot between the reversing car and a parked one, it must have been precisely by fate. And as her lungs searched for air to scream her stomach hit the curb. There would be no wedding and Tom would suffer bitterly.

As Tom went into his sixties grief stricken, depression rained down on him. He couldn´t stand his neighbours and he became a recluse.
He was dying at sixty five years old. He hadn´t called the hospital and spent days in excrutiating pain. The sadness had mixed into it aswell. He often saw nancy´s mangled legs in his dreams and woke in agony.
the pain and grief was so heavy he once passed out while eating breakfast.
He was just about to commit suicide that last weekend of his life but he had a heart attack while he attempted tying a noose. The heart attack went on for half an hour aswell as he begged god to get it over and done with, though back came the overwhelming pain without mercy.
As Tom took the lord´s name in vain for the last time in his miserable life he wondered if heaven existed.
The torturous pain of being alone had never gotten any easier even toward the end of his life.

Ürprot Brutali! Graves filled

Brutali resp
(warning don´t read this unless you really have to)
furnt anet wemp
Pord puri cirprot
wemp anet flöent

kippi wenna trut warsdef
Furnt blunt asfet tunt fent
aspor anet womp brutali
Cirpröst duf annek
Wemp dennceit

Brutali gone
But readily warm in the hand
of foul assailants
Brutali won taken by none
graves oh graves filled

Brutali blood burnt
on the edge of an oven element
The nights most profane persons disperse
forth they spill
forth they defile and kill

Gasp!

Old lake and urns

Old lake

The lake which young years was thrown into
Soon gave way to ambitious waterscapers
Giant eels no longer let the common swimmer bathe in peace

... Fountains and noxious grass grew up
Bigshops and sunday family outings stole the peace
De ja vu´d "yes you can child, throw a stone into the water"
Lake´s dark water hide more than billboard virtues

The lake where young years swam
Containers dip down toddlers tackle tadpoles
eyes wince now not by cause of the reflection of the water
but age

The cold dark lake where the ashes of dead loved ones float
and the urns lie broken and abandoned on the shore

Estrangeiro indesejável(unwanted)

Unwanted

Leave it out
everything that is really good
the solitary foreign beast
Nobody recognizes his gifts

Send me out the exit
without goodbyes
I´m trapped on the outside
waiting for explanations like a man lost and betrayed

Maintain me out of here
treat me with apathy
like any outsider
without consideration of my good deeds of yesterday

Me deixa fora
Tudo que é muito bom
Uma fera de um Estrangeiro solitario
Ninguem reconhece seus dons

Manda para fora

 Sem se despedir
Estou preso no externo
Esperando explicaçoes com um perdido traido

Me mantém fora
Me trata indiferentemente
como qualquer forasteiro
sem consideração para as façanhas de hesterno

Livro perdido(part 4)

So slow she walks towards me
Flashes of each little expression of her
She is my mind blinking

Smooth and fresh
 visions of her
 on the verge of appearing

Her voice opens the world up
All manner of her
pours out like grain out of a sack

I´d like to make bread of her voice
Small short meals
That I may live on till old age

Celebrating the thought of her
till sudden death
Like the flashes of her take me

Livro perdido(part 3)

You are the secret in my heart
A poem in the palm of my hand

A great passion lost in my direction
A big emotion during the long lonely nights

Every day I dream of you
You could be near
You could be far

I can´t forget
You just lack me

You should miss me
Invite me to give you consolation

Livro perdido(part 2)

One detail of you and of a great love
You are a great smile on my lips
A kiss of honour on my face
A hug of surprise
around my shoulders
and me around your waist
a sweet voice

Whispering to my eyes and in my ears
saying it was good to know you
You are the good moods not forgotten
The playful innocence
The cute, the pretty
 Of course you are the beauty

Livro perdido no parque dos sonhos rompidos(part one)

The week of conquer

Use your seven mondays summer´s gone

I was thinking of you on tuesday

Waiting for wednesday

My heart rocks thursday

I miss your face come friday

Deliver your attention
Arrive from your travels

Saturday rendezvous

Sunday I want to take you wherever you want

Baby birth tree

 Baby birth tree

The trunk mottled and rounded
A baby sticks out
bark bare and bearing infancy

Rounded warts towards the roots
Hungry to give the tree leaves
Hungry to send capillaries into the ground

Surging sap pulses days per beat
brilliant leaves shine like baby cheeks
The bulge is it´s trunk where the cheerub is exposed

The greatness of living wood
 a small monument to the woodland
and how it grows

Great expectations(and the nonsense that follows)

Goodness gracious
A footstep from elation
My grandly formed expectations

Get on the plate if you want to taste
Just a centimetre from exaggeration
Loving desire lacking relations

Put the flattery on like cheap lotion
Fill the glass with anticipation
Now sit back and dehydrate

Sore from boredom knees and shins
Goodness gracious on the skin
Hook up the battery like a grin

Get on the platform don´t waste this
I´m only two centimetres from you naked
my grandly formed expectations
Me with you and some well earned admiration

Gift angel

Not invain
she´s compulsory and vain
better off that way

Whisper beauty
while she shouts
skies reflect perfect eyes
admit me into life

Sunday descend
let me aboard
Insure my landing
make it smooth

Calm glad moments herald
Satelites around us
freedoms chore to know eachother
hearts and minds uncanny

Deem me worthy
with a curve of your smile
something more
than the simple politeness of daily life

Has he hurt you?

Did he make your way worthless?
 Render your expression expressionless?
 You give your heart to someone who´d treat it as a ball?
 You ignore me like I was a ghost?

Did he take and leave your dreams sweet one?
 Play you like an instrument for fun?
 Leave you on the side of the sofa?
 Don´t you wish for some truer embrace?

Oh did he not listen to your voice
 But offer it to the walls thus to disappear?
 Ridicule your choices?
 And disregard your ideas?

Now look away from me again and look to the one you plan to change
I can´t validate you the way he does through abuse
I frown on you smitten, while he dares to accuse

I the observer

It´s I

Here I sit in the grass
Surrounded by progress
ambition is nervous

The sun shines and the city laughs
and spews music
young men walk and girls hide

Here I sit on a huge brick
the building block for a roof or a floor
a soon to develope smile for acquisition


weedseed heads sway
in the warm autumn linger
car noises make them dance too

A mother´s distant whining
In a cabin of ten kids
the cushioned cacaphony

Here i sit as plates hit tables
oven´s burst open and aromas hit noses
lunchtime springs from midday as I watch and listen

She´s as latin as the roof

Her eyes focus like eagle´s do and find mine
Upper lip curves up as if savouring fine wine
Smile as latin as the rooves

Fingers fidget our voices are bridges
Let´s cross to eachother´s mouths
Toast your good health
and it´s continuation in my bed

Her nose is the daintiest ridge
and cheeks the soft pillows for children´s sleep
Her forehead´s expanse slightly tan and steep

Her toes fidget our thoughts are bridges
Let´s cross to each other´s minds
Toast your good health
and it´s continuation in my bed