Put down something

Hell did not put it first but I did my own bidding or so I thought. In the street, onto the beat of things came my whip and onto the next street, my mind did a strip. And the next street and the next strip, strip, strip. And never came and went. Eventually, I ventured out onto the landing strip of pavement flat without a lover and felt its concrete indifference which for a brief moment liberated my Wartime mind with Paris. And as I shuffled towards the shop coins in pockets, I wondered nothing at all lest I drop them into a storm drain. All the time workmen were at work inside the bubble of my brain which was a lot of workers and lot of fetuses never formed chemically assassinated before their born. I trod like a dancer those steps back home. A retired dancer. A retired shopper. A retired whore of body and soul now I was richer than ever before my dreams of Sodom and Gomorrah came and wept and stained cherubs cheeks. Love and lust in vain entreaty of willing heart and able body and mind came calling perhaps to ask for forgiveness. Perhaps not. I gave her my lot. I never had a lot. A lens came calling and the rest is history. A package holiday. A poor man’s bestiary. Bikini Atoll  Instagram. And for once ‘Never?’ was not a question. Its already blown up in your face. this is the future of the human race. Global-mega-nuke-dom-fascist-photo-king-dom-peasant-vegetable-heirloom-grade A Poultry forever and ever more. Give thanks for your children. Sigh, Pause, Play again, the noise that never stops, the virtual malady that brings our minds to the brink of sanity, without rhyme nor reason except it has for want of a metaphor inhabited a black horse that thunders over hedgerows and fields of fancy..well you can tell it a million times but then pounds saved lives and where was heaven all them years ago? They would us rather forget instead streamline our finances for a life online. Glitterball anyone? Chide your children for wanting it so instantly. Chide yourself for not giving in, Chide the forest for offering it. Chide your parents hides for breeding its culture and problems as they lie foot clubbed ready to repel invaders. Thank them for their lot. Bonking labradors building secret laboratories where Loreal models go for doggy facials Haven’t you heard? it’s the latest craze. Stranger things have happened in Russia! A man went shopping there and ended up in the special forces with Nikita giving him orders. It’s the new land of opportunity. Ask Boris, Ask Putin, Ask Yeltsin, Ask Gorbachev (oh he’s dead) Ask that waxwork brain in the Whitehouse. Where there is an election to be rigged. You know who to call!


In The Mind Of Another

It can cause a lot of bovver being literate and observant

In the Mind Of Another.

Job interviews are alien planets where bug-eyed creatures hide behind rocks just waiting to pounce on unsuspecting job hunters.

In the Mind Of Another.

Sexing is in a foreign language from the nudie book you got from the market.Why bother?

In the Mind Of Another.

And you see yourself too In The Mind Of Another.

In The Mind Of Another, there is no bovver, just apples and pears and cherry pie.

In The Mind Of Another dreams come true everyday in some London Lovenest.

In The Mind Of Another, Holidays don’t wait and yachting is par for the course.

Your job is great, and you never wait for a table. There is export beer in the fridge which your cleaner cleaned and dried this afternoon while you were out playing tennis. You have room for Boys Toys and a pilots license which you take with you on holiday just in case…

In the Mind Of Another.

I couldn’t write this poem, so many words that rhyme and so so long. I might as well just flick on the TV and be done with it all.

Or was that my mind  after all?

In The mind of another.

You Are Fully Functioning

render_cyborg_hand_ver_002_by_tobis007.pngYou are fully functioning like a machine but you are not a machine, you are my mother. I try and circumvent unpleasantness but you force me right on back to your robot arm for another wrestle. Your Unfair advantage seems to make no difference. You want to win. We talk in between of inconsequential things to me that is, badges and admissions, All I want, all I am seems alien to you.I explained this to you from a male/female perspective from my eleven-year-old mind but you threw it aside like bad vegetables insisting it was my fault. I had transgressed the boundaries again. Boo hoo. I cried again in my room. No-one came. 30 years on not much have changed. you keep me at arms length close enough to control far enough away. I don’t cry anymore. And I rarely wonder. In truth, I don’t blame you for my problems, alone. It’s only feelings, right? And they get in the way – in the way of happiness, right? Can feelings alone make you happy? Isn’t happiness a feeling not a response to some favourable outcome. Well, that’s moot! The word moot makes me happy. I have little in this world and am not sure how to evaluate my happiness. Every time I try I end up making a fool out of myself. It seems impossible to pin down intellectually anyway! Let me guess though…It is not a snapshot …it’s a process…yadda yadda yada! I remember when I examined my life through my untrained mind in terms of happiness and success. the two seemed interlinked and one seemed in some way, like a dog chasing its own tail, to feed off each other replenished by effort, fortuity etc. and I did not like to admit it at the time but the stars held some heavenly sway like cosmic spotlights singling you out for a day of fame.I decided to continue as I was until one day I found that some other thing distracted me. These distractions were interesting! And one day I thought I’d pack in the daily grind and live for the distractions instead of the certainty. The rest is history. Scroll down for more distractions and check out the menu at the top of the page for more of what I do now and hope to do more of in the future. Be a pal, follow me!

Image credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/render-cyborg-hand-ver-002-176899680