Friday, 29 May 2009

F.E.A.R.

Today is brought to you by the letters F.E.A.R
fucking stuff. gets on my boobies.

this week I got the flu, thought it was that piglet type. so being a socially responsibly type, I locked myself up preparing to DIE of something ball bleedingly gruelling. It wasnt so bad, just a bit ...you know...weird. Then went to the docs and she wasnt concerned in the slightest about piglets or anything I had done with or to gods small pinky things. cool. kind of. so swine flu maybe is MEDIA FUCKING HYPE as per frickin usual.

feeling better after two days off work either way.

still I am a bit feisty today and up for kicking the shit out of something if you have any suggestions.
because
of
F.E.A.R
that cock sucking, nipple tweaking, ring tucking in, type of feeling has come back around.

last night fellow workeee called me to suggest my job may be on the line

'you're walking a one way street' was his terminology.

which i kind of expected as I am a workshy fop
and my boss is a sadistic ass with attitude problems kind of like mine
except he is the boss and I am not
ergo
problem

so monday will be the telling moment and the more I think about it I feel like causing it. fuck em.
are there any jobs out there?
I dont know. most would say not.
so there is a little
F.E.A.R right about now.

layer one
of the stuff

then there is the thing about having to move back to UK if I run out of money or

eat from bins

the second isnt really that appealing
I may have to start the revolution for real
this sucks.
it takes much responsibility and thinking about, and then amassing of weaponry, and pamphlets so people know why they are revolting.
did I mean that.
yes probably.

plus I am too lazy

which some days annoys me a bit.
I love just being
not doing
just ....being

sitting about doing a lot of fuck all forever until death.
that is my idea of a good life.

I have done....yea pretty much everything now pigs fly
so,

I just want to sit back and watch it all go by
but no.

I have to work in a fucking corporate environment or
die of hunger
it dont seem right.

I am moaning
I am sure your tale is far worse than mine today and I bang on
so fuck it

enough!

today was brought to me by F.E.A.R
I am over it

fuck em

I am moving to Melbourne though
that much is decided somewhere in the mind
the how
has yet
to transpire itself


Friday, 15 May 2009

And it is happening again
roller girl hip swing comes by smiling at me
and I join her on the waltzer as the music spins
away we fly on soft magical words, and love growing in the midst of hearts
full of illusion
full of dreams
and kids we will have
and white picket fences
and perfect heaven in perfect lives
we will be
I will bring you this
and it will never shatter like all our lives have shattered until now
Christ, I would, I do believe
again and again and again
and I love you, to leave you eventually
in pain in selfishness of slammed doors and punched walls, and shouting,
and broken souls
abandoned in a planet lonely
to be picked up by another broken brother
pretending, like me, to be some shining knight
and on it goes
and down I go
sabotage my own good soul
with murder and sex and violence and savagery
of wounded knees
to which I fall
to which I fall
again and again
for you
all for you
Romeo, a fake all along
and all because we were just wanting to believe
that something could be good
forever
there is no forever here
just truth as raw as its deal
every time
still I believe like a child
as the body grows old
and the spirit tries so hard to grow
so that ultimately we may rise to be
the gods and goddesses
we truly, deeply are
and I wont lose you
even though I lost you
and we can be rising in love's vapour
rising through the emptiness together, alone, together, alone, together
just to believe
just to believe
I forever will believe
that you and me
that we
can somehow make it
into a real world of the imagined, conjured, beautiful things
that we will make, designed to fly
high above and beyond
this grey world they pulled us down into
of pain, so much pain
how did they ever come to make me think
it was so wrong to be
what we so naturally be
when it has been so hard to open up freely
to this new direction
this new dimension
a tear drop of the gods
through which we could so easily slip away and play
winds blow across the tops of high mountains
where no man stands
and the sun beats down upon days in some kind of eternity
where we sit and wait for change to come
fear biting into the hearts of all
just children of time here
not really knowing anything of this place they find themselves
laws of the universe they can't ever hope to beat against
it goes on here
on and on
forever
even if they were not here, it would be the same
and the cry goes out
as the masses assemble in confusion
looking to anyone for help
hands stretched out like they used to see on tv
and never believe it would one day be them
and the fear, the fear bites in
crushing their bravery
and their hearts
and their homes
and their hunger grows greater
to be released, to escape it all
and they wonder
how did it come to be this way
when we had such dreams, such wishes, such hopes, such futures
such brightness and joy and fun in living
that once was
and now
now what
now how can we stage the revolution
to usurp the gods and bring down the laws
that make scarcity the way of it all
as it was so it shall ever be
until the veil breaks
and some how escape becomes a real thing
can it be
can it ever be like the dream
when fear bites so deep like this
when love cannot sustain
when food becomes famine
and light becomes dark
only intention is left to cry out for
the freedom paradise could bring


viva la revolution

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

he made it to the ocean, dropped his bags down on the sand, stayed a year and a day.
let the destruction and the bitterness ride out on the waves.
let the sharks swim and circle and threaten in their hunger,
and the waves smash down on his frame
his spirit crying to be released
from the muscles and blood and flesh
that carried him again
across time and land and yet another life
under the stars where the truth, they said, is written
and someone lit a lantern and let it float up into the skies
and someone else whispered 'love' and everyone leaned in to hear
but heard nothing
hungry like the sharks
for their own completion in the end
but never here,
never in this world
will it ever be complete
and that was the sadness and the fuel for the destruction
and the source of the bitterness
and he knew
it was why he came to the ocean
10,000 miles away from home that didnt even exist anymore

he stood out on the shore
bare feet on the sands
each grain battered into its smallest form
by millions of years
and here, now, to be here now
underneath his feet
as he pissed into the ocean
and it lit up phosphorescent
like the stars
he floated in space a while
a smile on his lips
knowing that he was right in the place he was meant to be
and though he had lost everything he had ever loved in his life
every love in his life
can you really grasp that feeling? I dont know.
everything gone
except for the light he followed through all those lives
endlessly

he looked out over those waves
into the depth
into the eye of the deep
stared right into it
with everything his soul knew
and it shone into the void with it's own light
and he knew it was all that was needed
and everything else
was just the rattling chatter
of skeletons who had let their love
become skinned to the bone
by the fear and the absence of soul

Thursday, 7 May 2009

i'm just not one of the beautiful people anymore
not sure I really used to be come to think of it, but youth sparkles.
moist
there is a good word.

we are all bridges to the other side
we can feel the light of it shine through
into this world
if we become silent enough

no more guests running rampant round the mind
thoughts come and they go
feelings come and they go
experiences come and they go
but something inside is always there
ageless
timeless
silent
unnameable
conscious
unchanged since the day we were born into this place

I like that

meditation is a big pain in the ass
but it does have it's beneficial side

after a night of uncertain connections that seem to have become lost
in some flat barren emptiness where words feel dead
yet seem to fly around like machine gun bullets from uzi lips
I find myself in silence watching the bloodbath murder of the real

and I am left to walk home alone with questions
of why friends sometimes cant be friends
meditation saves me
from more pointless thoughts
that have no end
but bubble up endlessly, without real substance other than to distract and irritate
and tell me nothing at all about the situation that just was.

so into quiet I go
and into the silent sea I go
to swim the dark depths
of the other side
stretching out from within me on into the beyond
the big blue
quiet
and serene
and still
as it is there

where loneliness does not exist
because there are no thoughts to tell you
how your mind imagines it to be
because it isnt at all the scary thing
we have been led to believe

If I could whisper a word tonight
or maybe just a sound
and have it lead you back to where it began for you
I would
and from in that wholeness of being
from in recognition of how it used to be for us
like innocents to the fear and the crush
set you free again

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

times up and times down
times around and around and around

on a bed of nails she makes me wait
and I wait, with or without you


I am throwing myself into it all again
I dont know reasons why not
other than it hurts
but then what is a little hurt
makes you know you are alive right.

and you give yourself away


as you do, because it is all you know
you can fight it, fight yourself
but where does that leave you except
nowhere anywhere anyway

used to be easier, I am sure it did
but having said that this game hasnt yet gotten too hard
I just dont seem so interested to play is all
the numbers go by me
on the bus, on the train, in the bar, in the street
and I see the eyes and maybe catch a smile
and its just numbers
and I am just not that interested anymore
in the shallow connection

its got to be able to hurt
else what am I doing it for
it's got to be able to pull the love out of me
kicking and screaming, and passion and
playing with my delirium
delirium
madness
my sanctuary
my lover
the bed in the night and the dreams and the illusions
that feel so real
like we are high, on drugs
and some ways wish we were dying
just so it could stay like this forever
my sweetheart

it was just before dawn, one miserably morning in black 44
when the forward commander was told to sit tight
when he asked that his men be withdrawn
and the generals gave thanks as the other ranks held back the enemy tanks for a while
and the anzio brdigehead was held for the price
of a few hundred ordnary lives



and as ever I wonder in the spaces between acting
just what it's all about
and the question seems foolish in it's own way
feel nostalgic for a moment
think about friends I'll never see again
and all those good good times
to be missed
and savoured

and some kind of life
is always going on
to swim away in
if I desired
into the chaos
and the lovely confusion it brings
connections
all these people I know
and grow
with
towards the knowing
of what this moment really be
and quietly now in this little place
I sit in love
and enjoy the smile
as it beams out from somewhere deep within

Saturday, 2 May 2009

I was just getting to the bottom of the escalators at Kings Cross station when I heard it. Like a gunshot. then the train, screeching to a stop. I knew what had happened straight away. I waited for the screams but none came. I stepped into the throng of people, slow moving, incredulous, uncertain. I could feel it. I looked, we always look, we have to know. I knew.
It had happened no more than 10 yards from me. no blood. no bits. but a guard looking down under the train. The emotional bomb wave bursting across people as they understood what had happened. like a nuclear device gone off, I felt it in my belly. growing. people silent. moving. not sure what they were feeling in themselves. trying to gauge it. the bottomlessness of it in the belly and the mind. the unknowable. death does this. suicide. does this. someones last moment on earth born witness to. shit. why did I have to have go and walk into this.

I was silent. observing. too familiar with death to feel the fear reaction. just the suppression. the shutdown. readiness to act. cold. calculating. looking instead at the people around me. such different reactions starting to take place. one man, drunk grabbing people, talking right into their faces

'did you hear it. sounded like a gun. maaan what did they do that for. the trains arent going to be running now'

his energy was ugly. I moved away from him. a girl being comforted by a train guard. she was staring. not speaking, no longer really inside herself. locked up. I could see the eyes. shock. she was gone. the guard trying to take her name and address.
she was just looking into the last place she saw a living being before they leapt.
then a big guy, another guard, starts trying to take control of the situation, move everyone away. he is completely freaked out. angry. scared. reacting by trying to take control. I move away from him too.
I dont like this.
dont like the feeling in me.
this is bad. this is real bad. this is not good.
the sensation that a soul is around here now. lost. confused. gone from this earth.
I look for the signs. why did i walk into this? just yards from me. people gone from the station. maybe just ten of us now lingering. everyone just stood confused. not knowing what to do. I look at the Bondi line, wondering if the train will come but knowing nothing will move now.
the driver comes out of his carriage for the first time. he says something. sounds like he is asking if he should move the train. I see nothing in his reaction. it is as if it never happened.

'you alright mate' shouts another guard up to him from where they are looking under the train trying to figure if the person is alive still.
the driver doesnt respond. just stands there for a moment and says it again.

'should I move the train?'

I dont know what to do here. I feel I should do something, feel like I walked into this for a reason. I have no idea why I am thinking this.
I look around. there is nothing to be done here. this is just the scene of a suicide.
I step back onto the escalator and ride it up to the top.
look at my hands. not shaking yet.
check myself. my emotions. I am cold. there is a cold feeling in my backbone.
I keep thinking about the soul. the spirit. the dead.
where do we go? what happens out there? where is that person? one minute here the next minute gone.

as I climb the escalator I think to myself, this is what they looked at, their last walk knowing that they were going to die down there on the tracks. I try to take it in. looking for something, I am not sure what.
I step out through the ticket gates, people coming in to the station. the guards stopping them. telling them the trains wont be going tonight.
people excited, see it in the eyes. we havent changed since Roman times.

'Are they dead mate?' a guy asks me , his eyes wide. I just walk past him. stupid hunger in him I dont want to honour with response right now.

I step up the last set of escalators that take me to the street. into Kings Cross. the living hell, and as I do I spot the posters on either side of the walls. it makes me angry in ways I cant explain to see them. about ICE and the deadly effects. people scratching sores on the skin, bodies in hospital wards. all with the eyes, clear and dilated, big and scared. Pictures designed to shock, to fuck with your head. I realise this person walked past all this. in the lowest state of their life, to see the eyes in the posters, adverts created by some misguided idiots, where is the fucking love? You dont need this when you are whacked out on drugs, you need the opposite to recover! they are postering hell with pictures of HELL as if that is going to make some ICE head feel like giving it up! all its going to do is make them want to kill themselves. fucking idiots. this is the world we live in. full of fucking idiots. I am angry. its my reaction, finally starting to surface. As I walk into the street to the throng of lights and drunks and druggies and the night time madness and beauty that is Kings Cross, that is the human world we live in today all over this planet. I want to scream at the top of my fucking lungs

'WHERE IS THE LOVE YOU STUPID BASTARDS!'

I know then I am not going to do well tonight. I really actually didnt need this at all right now. I see the ambulance arrive. makes me wonder how the hell they clean these things up. Trains wont be running for a long while that is for sure.
I wonder who it was. didnt even know if it was a male or a female, a boy or a girl, a crack head or a suit lost out on the stock market. Why did I walk into this tonight?

I catch a bus back to bondi. people talking about it on there.
I feel low. the drop. it is coming now.
not good. I need to talk to someone.

I buy some candles from the store. I want to light something to dispel the ghosts that are hanging round me now. Its late I am not sure who to ring. I open my email. message from my recently ex-beau. she is back in town and asking if I want to meet up tomorrow. I need something. I email her. mention my night. then give it five minutes and ring. she doesnt answer. I see a mail come in a little later.

'sorry too tired to ring. speak tomorrow'.

that figures.

I lay on my bed. after her reaction I dont any longer feel like talking to anyone. It isnt something you can really share. Just brings people down into the fear and leaves them there wanting to be somewhere else.

I look at the dancing shadows from my candle. its on my altar where I keep the things that connect me to the otherside. to my own journey, to my own time after this life. things we become aware of as the days go by and death kisses our skin once or twice. you learn. but tonight. that was in my face. I was right by it. I felt it. felt the explosion of the body in my ears, and the end of a life. I can feel it now as I write.
I lie there. looking into those shadows. feeling real fucking raw. life to death. death to life. the cycle. the awareness when it comes. the pain of that. the void. the void gives us nothing back when we stare into it. I stop staring. start to breathe again. each breathe in like the first I ever took, each breathe out, like the last I will ever take. its all in there. just between the breathes. our whole story.

I just breathe
and lie there
letting the feelings bubble up and release out my throat as small sobs.
there is nothing else I can do but let it out right now
each sound a prayer for the lost and the dying on this crazy planet
for the ghosts and the departed
and those who are afraid
and alone
and dont know who they are

tough days these are. jesus so fucking tough.
yet
I am here still
I am here
there must be worth in that.
though sometimes it makes so little sense
I know it is ok
if we just keep breathing
and wishing the darkness into light

I put on Telepopmusik - Just Breathe and let it repeat play until I fall asleep.


"If you're frightened of dying and then you hold on
You'll see devils tearing your life away
But, if you've made your peace
Then the devils are really angels
Freeing you from the Earth..."