Change the world they said, he laughed out loud, the world changed every day, they should have said, for the better, change it for the better, of course they meant better, but every lawyer thrives on the word and the many meanings of deception, and like a global court case, the trial we all are involved in, survival or disaster, there is always a lawyer to explain the status of us all, but never a lawyer there to show us the way forward, unless it’s a cayman account or laundered money valve, tax free status, or some other similar type of theft, all legal of course, client confidentiality a must, a bit like the confessional box, except they never seek the good, only the money, yours, it doesn't matter who pays, the ferryman always gets his fee, unlike the divine judge, there is no appeal, just the hope of mercy, and you can plead, and plead, or pretend you didn't notice or have some great excuse to pose with, while the cameras roll at your front door, blame the lawyer of course, the one you selected and paid, the list is endless the excuses legendary, the failing is human, but judgment is divine, not like your local court house, your excuses don’t carry any weight, the witness’s that support you, theirs is a similar fate, but you all go down together, into the pit of darkness, forever left to your own devices and the coldness in your heart, and why do I know all this, simply I've seen the light, and where there is light, there is also darkness, and let me tell you darkness is not good for you, you get used to it, nothing grows in it, you vegetate and fade, nothing happens down there, so how do you change the world, make it better, and please no lawyers opinions or you've lost the case your gonna make, well here is my answer to this great weight on the shoulders of those who had the responsibility of talent, and misused it for their own delights, I’m just given you a warning not a warming, your doing that yourselves, restore the light, it’s that simple, and what is light you might ask, it’s the following; it’s a little child who looks up to his dad without fear, it’s the hope of an elderly relative for a visit from you, it’s the old lady who lives all alone in fear who delights when she hears your voice on the intercom, it’s the emotion you feel when you truly love, it’s simple burden sharing and most importantly of all, it’s putting yourself last for the sake of love. So between us all, don’t keep yourself busy on booze TV golf pornography shopping or food, or some other way to blot out your conscience, open your heart today, show a little light, you’ll be surprised, and I didn't mention religion once, now tell me this, doesn't it feel good when you do good, it’s really that simple, I never mentioned money either, it’s like air, we need it to survive but we don’t need to control it the way we do, it sets off the domino affect, suddenly it’s all we can think of, will the IPO work, the sums become fantastical, the car port becomes a garage, the home becomes a range of houses, while the mistress’s accumulate before our eyes, as for the party, it’s now a season, and the excuse we use for it all, we did it for the children, I hope you don’t believe such lies, shed the light, and loose some weight while your at it, it’ll change your world their world our world, for the better, and perhaps allow us a little more time to take up our responsibilities rather than spew out more lies, happy new year!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
The beginning the middle and the end, and it ain’t you, they are heaven they are angels they are smiles, no poet writes about them either no feedback from the source, they don’t read before the age of two, on hope they wait and they are patient, they are the children of the earth. Mothers have support children benefit the most, it’s wrote to you in this little note to remind you of that most famous of quotes, blessed are the children and blessed are those that spoke and blessed they are.
Born into love as it was once known, raised in a loving home, as it was hoped, till the western society turned them all into little consumers and into little dopes, as companies globally target their emotions first with the money then with the hope, now they act like little consumers can’t wait to get to the shops, while adults play with the emotions of life itself, children.
So what happened to the emotion known as love, how come we watered it so much,
I don’t really belong in this world, anyone with an excuse better speak up, it’s
not a case of my child it’s a case of what happens to the rest. Blank, I thought so it’s
not my fault, I’d no time, I’ve ..got a lot in my head but I’m so busy thinking of myself
That, I don’t have time for anything else
Why do so many women carry the burden alone.?
we grow with time to learn something while busy mothers struggle to pay bills, child grows up in the arms of strangers even circus animals get their thrills, and they get fed a good education as well, while all the time love weakens and weakens, you can’t be serious he said, so what happened to love, the pure emotive version not the Hollywood fraud and all the rest, where did it go somewhere else.
National rebellions economic strife years and years of legal theft, wars on the verge of commencement many more in motion, more planned and on the shelf, nothing is sicker than the ocean, that grows toxic by the day, water once clean crystal and clear only a dream or a bottle away, and the continued abuse of young children toddlers and babies as the abuse of women holds sway.
God is a farmer that I am sure, how do you think he’ll feel, it could be a woman as well by day how about two, but the love harvest is at an all time low and we’ve got to makeup, take another prozac bully your neighbour as well, since the kids arrived how can peace survive when I used to be the one, yeah, that’s it, the one, my life, my car, my career, my health, at least you can surf the web if still insecure.
God can’t come up with answers to the pleadings he hears every night, unless they come from the heart there is no light, no getting away either from the question he’s going to ask you, did you do for love and why is it so hard to hear you, your heart, God listens tired sometimes from all the excuses, he’s a father a mother too, but what’s going on for far too long, is going to bring a great change.
but it’s beginning at night from all the young hearts still right, that suffer by day and in quite, I’ve got to act he says, soon I think if I’m right, so what is your excuse for allowing the greatest emotion tether on the brink, while our so called leaders shrink from all their sworn duties, but then again don’t you love surprises, when is the last time you saw an elderly couple on the street, a loving look in their eyes, on TV most likely. But don’t worry about the state of tomorrow or the day after, this world is still evolving, let’s hope we stand together like they do when there is a great tragedy, let’s get smart and avoid the trauma, let’s make it Christmas day, everyday…
Monday, December 17, 2012
Demented crazed obscure over exaggerated fantastic lunatic story lines, over dependent self interested totally absorbed suicidal character forms, unrealistic over technofried over sexualized plot styles, money orientated wealth directed totally desensitized populations, am I describing the human race or the Hollywood film industry, or is it a viable description of both and the roman empire of old, it’s hard to work out the truth of any situation as so many people live in a world that is in complete and utter denial, so anyone who wishes to speak the truth is considered the enemy. There are so many examples since the beginning of time, since the birth of Christ, of people who tried to spill the beans on what was going on, from all nations on the earth, be it Burma Israel Ireland united states of America, England, Scotland, Germany, wherever you look, truth was always hard won, so much so that all the first world countries of today, have all had to introduce whistleblower legislation to safe guard those who wish to tell the ordinary public what they ought to know. How mad is this. Add to the mess the plethora of spin doctors, or simply put, pure deceivers who rewrite the truth of any given situation for which they are heavily rewarded by those in government, with money collected from the general public, that is you and me, in order to deceive those who are paying the wages of the very same government that is there in place supposedly to work for us, and they work for us by telling us a story that is as pure as whiskey that has been watered down at least ten times, making what they tell us complete and utter nonsense to begin with. Add to this the fact that the same governments appoint to office regulators in various guises who are supposed to work in our interests, when in fact they are working mainly for a few select large organizations, whose sole goal is to extract finance and wealth from us, add to this the way children worldwide and women worldwide have been totally and completely sexualized, add to this a media and advertising industry that has completely bought into the sexualisation of everything, so long as it makes money for all those parties connected above. What do you think you’ll end up as, a free person or a slave, have a guess. Add to your thoughts the following, the two to three billion souls who live on less than $2 a day on account of the fact that the first world’s main economies exploited the wealth of these so called poorer countries for generations, I haven’t mentioned hunger yet, I just hope your getting a clear picture of the mess we all created, and the affect it is having in heaven. They’re extending hell as I write, there wont be space for all of you in there if we keep up the rate of mediocrity at it’s current speed. Little wonder the mayans saw it coming, they couldn’t keep on sacrificing people at the rate they were doing it either, get it, and survive.
And what do you think happened to love in the context of this global shame, do you suppose it thrives, or does it exist at all, is it something we pretend to have, just to feel a little more secure in ourselves, what do you think is the outcome for a world devoid of pure love, we abort healthy children by the truck load hourly, do you suppose our creator is going to allow this situation to continue unabated forever, I don’t think so, I’m certain he wont. I’ve seen the golden city.
So what are you going to do about it, build a bigger house with more security than
if you can afford
it?. Party till the cocaine runs out, you’ll be so full of powder you wont
remember a thing, and we love children, we prefer porn is a more truthful
statement if the usage stats for the
world wide ebb is as real as they say, let’s find out!, amen. Someone has to
say it as it is, as ugly dirty unseemly and distasteful it has all become.
Unless we know where we are, we ain’t gonna go very far, and like so many times
in the past, we wait for a great tragedy to stir us into action, by which time
all common sense thinking has long passed us by, leaving us to overreact as
usual, again and again and again…amen. fort
Friday, December 14, 2012
Small hand and a big heart, love in abundance, where do you start, do you understand I ask, are you too engaged with yourself, do you know how you got here, well lets hear it from the start, you’re a child, and you’ve just entered the world, don’t worry about all the stuff you heard, while you waited inside, we all want to get on with it, it’s the beginning of a wonderful journey, it begins full of hope, sometimes it ends in tears. Well don’t worry about that and all those things you hear, life is a gift and it’s yours, your parents are there to protect you, it goes a bit like this, they feed you love and comfort, they help you to grow up, and this is where I have a few questions for all of you who bother to ask, do you think the world is a safe bet, for the youngest of us to adapt, or is your only interest the children you have to protect, wouldn’t it be safer for everyone if we all took a closer interest in the environment we allow children to grow up in, rather than the brands and fashion statements we make and create to outshine just about everyone, come now, do you think God will worry more about your Gucci shoes or the children you rear, now that’s a no brainer! Amen.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Hope love transparency justice fairness and revelation of truths, the message of lord Jesus Christ, righter of wrongs, revealer of truth, safeguard us from all that is evil in this world and destroy and lay waste the evil one and his supporters the world over, strong words strong winds but evil can never be allowed a foothold in the hearts and minds of the human soul. I from experience and my own errors understand the methods of this evil force, that has spread similar to a cancer across all worlds, so in my prayer, throw your protective shield around those who struggle to promote love and compassion throughout the world. Children the world over have been the target of this evil menace, and must be halted and destroyed at once. My heart has raged against this force most of my years, and to this day I am still in the middle of this battle, a battle we are winning with your merciful help. We are starved of resources sometimes, as this evil force targets those who wish and do your good deeds. In a world of such chaos it is hard sometimes to stand against this bad energy, but we are winning. The evil one is on the run, help us recognise it, stop it, and to destroy it, I offer this prayer in the name of the sacred one, lord Jesus Christ, as the prophets of old and now say, words and requests that come in his name from the loving heart, are heard in heaven above, in your mercy lord hear our prayer, amen.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
These dark days are here again I don’t know how long I don’t know when
These dark days are here again, I wish it was a dream it’s what he said
The children go to school she sits at home, worrying how she’ll pay for all their tools
She asks the money lender to give her some time he nods his head do you think I’m a fool. He comes home after eight, the children ain’t in bed they stay up late
He asks where she’d been when she comes in she looks at him strange hands the money to him, he counts the cash it’ll pay tomorrows bills she gets to bed she smells of old men
These dark days last longer than hell, she’s a broken woman their marriage is at an end
The politician promises the worst is over now, you’ll soon have your house back they believe the fool, he goes to work on a Monday morning worrying about tomorrow he keeps soldering on
She can’t refuse the work whatever the cost the kids need their new shoes it wont go on forever, money lender calls there is word on the beat she’s bad for money but good for heat, these dark days since I don’t know when don’t you wish for cover from a real good lover
He used to hold her tight every night, now he never sees until it’s well past mid night
These dark days have broken their spirit, should have used a doctor but couldn’t afford to visit
This tale of woe is only the beginning, you should have seen it coming they say been clever, he gets some rope and ties it together puts a big noose in it he wants to end it forever.
Monday, December 10, 2012
I could be watching TV. Well Tv is what he heard these last six weeks. A break from the rattle tattle of the office printer he was used to night and day. too warm to move, cosy and wrapped, fed continuously, room was getting tighter, Pushy was getting anxious. Due to make his first official appearance onto the world stage, he’d been holding off this last week, on account of the weather forecast. Cold and icy for the next three weeks announced the weather forecaster a week earlier, just as pushy was ready to make his big entrance. Pushy decided to remain a tummy baby, yet to be born, but like all great actors, waited for the right moment to enter the fray. She’s eating burgers again, washed down with orange juice, pushy liked orange juice, burped inside her tummy, forcing him to shake a leg.
“I can feel him moving” smiled mary. Other friends laughed loudly. Pushy wiggled around trying to get his ear into position. What are they saying, I’m not even born yet and they are making plans for me. Did they ever hear about free will.
Like sliding about, be a baby inside a tummy. Pushy was rolling around in his mother’s tummy. She was on her feet again. She’s eating again, what this time, wondered pushy. Smelled okay, he wondered if it was a Chinese, hopefully not. Beef, fresh irish beef, yummy smiled pushy who was being fed through his mother. The rich smell of
beef, probably the best beef on the planet. Well, when you have the freshest
water in Tipperary Europe to cook with, to grow with,
the outcome is usually wholesome, and good for pushy who could only think of
Do they all speak with that accent wondered pushy, the theme tune to a familiar soap opera waking him up after a short nap. They didn’t speak like mammy figured pushy trying to work out the plot line, moving himself around, trying to get his best ear to the action. The doorbell rang. Shit sighed pushy, he’d never know if they had the affair. New shit tomorrow.
“any news yet” asked Jennifer, a friend of mammy’s.
“if it doesn’t move soon I don’t know what I’ll do” replied mammy, back on the couch.
This is really bugging me, they are pushing me too far. I’ll surprise them.
More food, spicy shit, this is unbelievable fumed pushy trying to move around his tummy room. Makes you fart, burst even. Dirty tricks department, they are trying to move me. Wait till I get out of here, just you wait. She stopped eating, god that was close. The door closed. It was time for bed. The bump the bump, four more bumps and we’d be on the bed. He liked the way mammy massaged him while they were in bed lying down. He could swim up and down across and for as long as he wanted, unimpeded too. she’s getting fast sighed pushy, not realising that is was he who was growing fastest. I used to be able to stretch, not so much now.
Soft music put him in a trance. She played him frank Sinatra in bed. Good taste, a real smoocher, our frank Nuts, I don’t believe it, not even normal nuts, spicy nuts. She’s trying to do my head in sighed pushy kicking out in disgust. Mary smiled, patted her tummy. Who loves you she said. Pushy listened with rage, how could she eat spicy so late at night. Down there, he often wondered what was down there, never went down there, felt safer up here. He could rest up here, down there and he’d nothing to hold onto. His foot slipped all of a sudden, got caught on a ledge. Pushy held on for dear life. Twisted around, head first, if I go down there I’ll never come back, I’ll lose my comfort zone. Where’s the water gone. Mammy was on her feet. I hear her on the fone. I’m stuck, I’m stuck. Jennifer is at the door. Mammy mammy, it’s an earthquake shouts pushy, does anyone ever listen. What am I supposed to do. Stuck in the black hole, I’m dead I’m dead, ah, ah, I see light, light, god I’m alive, I’m alive, ah mammy, mammy screams pushy, tears in his eyes, tears in her eyes as well.
Lights everywhere, the place smells horrible, voices I never heard all around me, I’m not putting up with this. Pushy cleared his throat and screamed for all his worth. A minute later he was lying with mammy. She’s my mother smiled pushy.
Friday, December 7, 2012
The world is beautiful, Have you ever thought about it, the world that is, is it not beautiful in places. We call those places national parks, so many miles of ocean across all frontiers, touching each other in special places the way the sun used to be, and still is in those extra special spaces, now we get burned frozen or flooded instead, except of course for those special places, and the bank manager we wish him dead, the women and their faces we can’t stop looking, the hours spent grooming their façade well look at TV no frowns allowed can’t you tell, a little perfume on the hips lipstick on the lips, as mothers seek safe refuge to build a nest as well, then an heirloom arrives the result of love so they said, children of course keep on watching and waiting, it’s a show they've already heard, Disney shows written by old pro’s words they use children in the viewfinder, they used to call it inspiration, today they ration the dead, literally and bury them live on TV, I won the lottery the dredge is no more, no smart opinions to get high on, pure doesn't give you headaches, it kills you instead, don’t tell Santa he said.
But it’s a pity really, having tossed so much of our future away, the consequence of pure greed that the poorest will pay for instead, they've cut back the bird crumbs this week I heard, poor crow, shot at three times dived bombed by a sparrow hawk, a busted wing he hung on, two miles up the road and he’d be fed, earthquake on the TV, the world is falling apart, live on TV of course, you've guessed it CNN they are the first to call to help, world latches on cameras roll on carelessly, footage is worth more when you’re dead, no point saving the sick across the world, cant get them together like a Spielberg movie, we’ll rely on old footage. Isn't the world beautiful he said, the luck of the Irish they always said it was worth waiting for, amen.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Are you a celebrity, then get me out of here, are you skin deep then that’s what you are, where is your heart you seem to have lost it, well get one quick before you perish in the fire, don’t you love celebrity and the affect it has on children, don’t you love people who sell their celebrity, find me a rifle I’m getting too fond of them, example, a simple word and the media sets a great example, and don’t your children appreciate the fact that these celebrities are sexualizing them, well they’ve been sexualizing us all for decades, now it’s time to get them all out of here, celebrity footballer and their agent friends, the size of their bank account we’d all like one, the pace quickens as the heart races, example is set and there’s no stopping children, cause we all follow example just like them, don’t suppose there is much celebrity in heaven, no time for it either in the places that matter, guess all those celebs will have lots of company in the spit roast of hell, I imagine it well, cause they set examples that only lead you to hell, great job being a celebrity pity about the prospects after though, where’s my new car dude, I’ve a page three wife, I get to see her over sized chest every single night, envious I hope cause we like to remind you, she wears a dress that don’t cover her ass, bet you’d like to see more but you’ll have to pay for that, celebrity minded people are such a load of dynamite, you have been warned.
The romans thought they were celebrities too, till the lord lost patience with them and rubbed them all out, if you don’t believe me check the facts out, they thought they could buy everyone buy their way out, sorry no celebrities on the bus to heaven tonight, well you could always get a real job or do something worthwhile with you life, as for lionel messi, he’s no celebrity he’s just gifted with his feet, goodnight, and he scores when it matters too. There are many good people who masquerade as celebrities but you’ll never figure them out, they are what you call stars.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
I set out today trying to do it the right way, no fuel in my car just love in my heart, I took the decision cause I knew the others wouldn’t bother, I wanted to be the change give love a new ladder, so off I went my mind made up sure that I had your continuing support, so off I went with all confidence and certainty, got to my chosen place like, I knew before it was all community, I ignored their rules whatever the cost, saw the happy face it left me in no doubt, did what I was asked didn’t complain or blow it up, then went on my way and headed back to town, once there I knew it was my day, went about the work and just knew what to say, and it happened again and again like many times before, the presence that I asked for was exactly what I proposed, so what said a friend who awakened old fields of fear, afraid of what I wondered it made me feel so damn poor, I guess the power of the evil one lives just about everywhere, it’s tragic but it’s real but we only listen when the news is bad, were so damned used to negative thought it’s like those bags of fear, and it goes on and on and nobody seems to notice, not the clergy or their supporters it’s control they want, and I wonder if they have ever loved ay all, or were they so let down by others they gave everything they can, and now the well of love and hope is empty to them as well, then I think about the children and the sexual problems they have, abuse to abuse age is no longer of great importance, it’s only when the chips are down do we know of the relevance, when it’s too damn late when all we have is complete waste. I can feel a storm coming and it’s not going to be soothing, but afterwards you’ll see it different when you’ve lost almost everything, then you’ll listen cause you’ll have little else to do, I’m just trying to wake you all up from this sleep of destiny, can’t you hear it coming can’t you see the change, what do you need to see to make the right moves, its over this old world of ours were at the new point in time, I just hope you wake up soon cause the waiting wont be for long, amen.
While a tree grows it depends on its roots for some of it’s success, not all. While a child grows up, it depends on its parents. Is there a special chemical the body produces when a man and woman entwine?. Harry looked at the words typed on the screen. Beethoven was a problem child, he had lots of problems. Did his parents contribute to his success, of course figured harry, they had to encourage him. Various words appeared on screen, some made into sentences that made sense, some total gibberish. Harry had spent a week holed up in a room with a TV, and was having trouble making sense to himself as a result. A sermon to write that caught the moment, his goal. A week of voyeurism, the maddening of the human race, after thirty odd hours watching TV he was mad. It felt like a week, but it was over the course of a week. He hadn’t sat down and watched and watched. He staggered it over a week. Three/four hour shifts. Who would want to watch TV day and night as if there was nothing else to do except surf the net for porn. The world population was doing exactly that. Those who had access to TV based their lives on it. Stargirl had a sister, stargirl being a lesbian striper on a late night channel that was late nite at three in the afternoon. He didn’t believe it existed, this surreal world of text remote TV and home. kitchen milk, coffee, sofa, more kitchen, snacks, more drinks, a cigarette, bathroom, pause and hold, can you put it back to the last scene, those look nice, he’d seen them on the other channel too, big ones, little ones, huge too, breasts everywhere. Was there ever a female performer who kept her clothes on. Britney, gaga, sophie, paris, nikole, Lindsay, etc etc, he’d seen them all in various states of dress and undress, in sex, out of sex, knickers in car, on the floor, butt shots, botox lines. If he ever was to meet these girls, and that was most unlikely, he’d seen them all. Knew their parts, the mole under your breast too, hope it’s not malignant. How did they intend to make love to him now that the mystery was gone. Make love meant creating love in Harry’s universe. The reason for being of the healthy human, love. Unhook your bra, I’ve seen it all before, saw the sex tape as well. The trouble with TV, it’s everywhere, and it never ceases, like gambling in vegas, 24 hours 365 days of the year, and going into spaces you never thought possible. Hid from sight these late night shows, payphones were really a fancy name for a mobile. News anchors in tears almost repeating the news, the latest horror crash, children make the best impact, and mess. New news clip, were all happy now, tears dead. More tears tomorrow, you have to watch to find out.
Slapped across the face, beaten to a mental pulp, but do you know what, we can cure your eating habits if you’re overweight. We just can’t make those starving, fat. I’ll never get this written he thought, his mind swollen for the beating it had endured that week. Church power, TV power, business power, who wanted ordinary, no one, only the foolish wanted to be normal, everyone else wanted stardom or your mobile phone.
We are fucking ourselves out of existence, and we all know it he surmised.
But the week had been good. After receiving a standing ovation at his first literary event he was still under the influence, glow or whatever they called, feeling adored.
Words matter, some more than others, and some more than others depending who says them. His words seemed to hit the spot. Two publishers wanted his work, so he was under pressure but enjoying it. I’ll pray more often he thought. Lizzie wasn’t so impressed with the attention he’d received either, she’d get used to it. Pete was ringing him everyday, cocaine had halved in price. Pete even gave him credit now.
Darfur was on the telly, the Arabs fighting Africans, or slaves as they are called, the U.N. did nothing as usual, the Chinese controlling the oil. No one will remember he sighed the bodies of those children burned and hanged upsides down. Chinese though, he didn’t like the fact that they were feeding the war. The bible he frowned, he’d read it that those who spread it, or encourage it would suffer for it. Running short of water in china too, earthquakes and landslides increase day by day, they’ll be the first to falter he reckoned for what they wilfully done, in Darfur and elsewhere. No point in upsetting the Chinese, too many of them, one major epidemic would be enough to wipe them out, as they lived like bees in hives. The Arab extremists, couldn’t criticise them either, too much money and too many of them. Lack of water would be there problem too, as salty water refined wasn’t drinking water but salty water refined and nothing else. The plebs would get the message when it was too late.
A poem for all mankind, good idea he surmised thinking wisely, the horror that was Darfur would probably be the last testament to the sheer greed and horror or man, better forgotten. Sad that no one cares he thought, the image of the burning children hard to forget. Tomorrow the news would focus on some other tragedy. A poem for all mankin ,where do you start.
She goes to school at half past eight, her hopes and dreams in her bag, homework done her parents proud, no longer clothed in rags. Along the way she meets this man, a family guy she thinks, he promised her a ride to school, she gets in she thinks. He asks her if she’d like some treats, he points the other way, she gets all anxious, his fist hits her face. For god sakes harry cheer up, some poem for mankind, horror story. Child prostitution on the rise globally, forty five million americans living in poverty, not everyone lives in Hollywood, not like tv where everyone is thin, good looking, and has plenty of money. They only make up that stuff to trick you. They don’t want you if your poor in America, uneducated either unless your willing to join the army.
A poem for mankind, where do you start. Two hours at the PC, it looked like a joke. Good stories are rare these days, where do you start. Hitler got the art of propaganda off to a T, the world soon followed.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Officially a couple, he liked it, being ordinary quite interesting. Holding hands with a woman, nothing to be afraid of. It’s a pity we never figure it out, love, the eternal journey forever seeking it, easier to find sexual chemistry. Love is too difficult for most folks, being there for someone other than yourself. Lots of people the world over equate sexual attraction with love, unless your in
Bangkok or ,
on a night out, suppose it blanks out the other forms of love. The direct result
of the sexualisation of children the
world over, the death of innocence too. Pour me a jack daniels I’d rather not
talk about it. Amsterdam
Hilarious stuff, imagine a happy priest, he stopped thinking preferring the enjoyment of being, as nothing in this world lasted including the walk he was on this morning. Dee stopped at one of those girly shops, not a sex club, clothing shop. At least it wasn’t a jewellers.
“ mind if I go in” she asked with a smile, dragging him after her.
Do I mind, he’d have gone into a hardware store and promised to put in an entire bathroom if she asked, and after. Cynicism doesn’t suit anyone. Meanwhile
Dee made her way to a changing booth, a bunch of dresses
arranged around her arm.
“only be a minute” she smiled as she disappeared behind the curtain rail.
He waited, and waited, all the time watching the goings on, something he hadn’t done before in a ladies shop.
A plump woman circled a display of short mini dresses. She can’t be serious he thought, wondering how she’d look in a skirt that hardly covered her bottom. He wanted to go over and tell that it wasn’t looks that mattered, it was heart that worked, nobody would believe him though, nobody of this generation. Looks fade like worn old fabric. Not everyone can afford plastic surgery. The fattish lady must have read his thoughts. She was now at the rail of long dresses, the type that come down to your ankles almost. Better idea, better still, a long white cotton dress with a black wrap around belt, classy.
“how do I look” smiled a reappearing
shook his head. Dee looked at him sourpussed.
“too grey” he replied.
Grey, used by too many priests. I work for god, the happy guy, invented love and all that happy stuff. Of all the colours used to denote a cleric, grey had to be the worst. At least black was black. I’m god your soul assistant, we have an array of colours to choose from. Green, blue, red, yellow, purple, white. Did you ever see a grey coloured rainbow, not unless it’s covered in volcanic ash or nuclear dust.
“that’s better, blue much more your colour” he smiled.
“another two to go” smiled Dee, who disappeared behind the curtain again a lot happier this time.
Harry wondered, one eye on the curtain that
behind. So much underwear on view, staggering. No room at the inn, less room in
a thong, bit of a butt stretch there, see through stuff loads of it, it’s not
as if your going to walk around in your knickers all day. unless you’re a
trafficked sex slave with no options, not that the lads seem to care. Where’s
red does it every time. He didn’t have to say a word, his look told her all that she had to know.
“just one more, a minute I promise” as she disappeared behind the magic curtain. It was a magic curtain as everytime she re appeared, she looked different.
Belts hung on a rack against a wall, thin, gold coloured, fat, thick, blocky, jewel encrusted, what next he sighed getting tired. He’d been in there nearly half an hour.
Dee exited the changing room for the last
time, two purchases in hand, blue and red coloured. He waited while she paid
for her buys, then hand in hand exited the store bumping into Buzz. Harry’s
first impulse was to let her hand go, but held on, not that Buzz noticed one
“we’re having a poetry slam tomorrow night, you’ll have to come along”
he was handing out flyers.
“see you then” smiled harry, as buzz headed off.
He’d moved out of mrs slattery’s the previous week. Mid summer coming into june, the city was alive, colour and lots of young fine things caressed the paved streets. Coffee outside the norm, gigs aplenty, irish trad music beating out the door of public houses, arts festival to look forward to, lovers paradise for those with time, the city of
“what are you cooking for dinner” she asked as they passed Tigh Neachtain, galway’s best known drinking house.
“eat out” he replied.
Hours later, he was still waiting for her, a bit tense. She was going to read a poem he’d wrote, he’d still have to listen along with all the others at Buzz’s place.
“come on” he said, urging her to prepare quicker.
“I’m rolling a number, where’s your patience” she shouted.
The makings of the joint were on her dressing table. Bag of grass, papers, some tobacco. She was trying to apply make up at the same time, making a mess of it too. she popped out to him, her new dress on, her face over done, too much foundation, making it look like beige cream, rather than a thin skin.
“you need to apply a little less I think”
she wasn’t impressed, looked at him boldly, her face frowning.
She disappeared again. This time she went into the bathroom, still talking to him, almost shouting.
“do you really think it’s too much” she asked, bent over, looking for something under the basin.
She looked at the bathroom door, no sign of him, no words. She shouted out to him again.
“I’m nearly ready, just a minute”
“take your time” he answered, getting used to women and their waiting tactics.
She found it, took it out. Wrapped in a paper bag, she unscrewed the top, guzzled the best part of a full glass of vodka down her throat. Then another, just to be safe, in her mind that is.
“do you know that the races are on in july here” he said, reading an article from a local magazine.
“daddy has a horse” she shouted, back at work on the joint.
Daddy was also a wealthy man, a point that didn’t rest well with Harry. A church pension to live on along with a large bequest from a deceased relative, harry wasn’t poor, just comfortable. Since Dee and himself moved in together, all discipline over finance had been forgotten. It was live, and live more, as nothing lasts, not in its current shape anyway. Every flat tummy becomes a rolling mass over time, sorry. Harry let himself meander down wonder lane, no tomorrow, no yesterdays to worry about, being in love he wondered how long it would last. Were children the next step up the emotional ladder. What if you cant have children. Had you time to think of others, put the needs of life ahead of the ego. So many personal agreements are broken, doomed before they start, doomed through lack of real love, love of the self outscoring love of others, love on a jesus scale virtually extinct. Modern marriage, what have you got. I’m beautiful, like my car, I can afford to have my hair done every week, we’re going on holiday again, time to change the car, a villa in monte carlo would be nice, that watch I’m wearing ain’t cheap it’s chique, wish you had one don’t you, you only go on holiday cause you’ve no friends at home, that’ll shut them up. worth every moment he sighed, a little high from a previous smoke, Dee looked so unlike the
he first met. Dressed in a red silk dress, that clipped her knees, black hair
tied back, nice legs.
“I’ve a number rolled” she said. Did we need it he thought about to light it up. he took a few pulls passed over to her. His nose was startled, he began to sneeze. Must be her perfume. He disappeared to the bathroom. He wasn’t used to allergies. Alcohol, must be the alcohol in the perfume, vague smell of strong white alcohol. He’d met a few of those over time, too many.
Dee didn’t drink.
Wine wasn’t drinking, it was social time. The arrival of a taxi ended everything. She called out to him. hurry she shouted. Cheek of her, she who spent an hour getting ready telling him to hurry.
“we’re on the guest list” she said as they departed the cab. A que waited, ten in all. Harry and dee were beckoned in like celebrities. Some in the que gave him the ugliest of looks. Harry avoided eye contact, flowed in after her.
Buzz was at the stage area. Three listeners around him, readers assumed harry. Buzz waved, harry waved back. Familiarity is comforting.
Dee made her way to the bar, harry sought
table and chairs. She returned with their customary label, buzz had been
shopping as this wine had been missing the last time they were in. the venue
filled up. dee refilled their glasses. The bottle began to look sad. It was
only ten, the show closed around twelve.
“I better get another before they start, are you nervous?”
harry was too numbed to be worried. He watched her. Worried, why worry. She made the bar man laugh. She made every one laugh. So confident in red, he didn’t like deeming her sexy. Classy was better, classy lasted. Sexy was as temporary as rain, like mood. She’d a tray with her this time. Two small glasses accompanied the bottle. Looked like a coffee bean or rabbit shit, had to be coffee bean. He asked her what it was.
“sambuca, a greek drink, you’ll love it. by the time you get on stage you’ll ..” he choked on it, sending the fiery hot liquid in her direction. She was quick.
A tissue was offered. A dribble of snot dangled from his lip. He’d enough time to clean it off, just as the lights went down.
“I thought you were reading” he sighed, ever so quietly, as buzz made his normal overture, explaining the procedure for the night. He whispered it again,
Dee ignored him, her eyes
fixed on the stage and buzz. What she asked as he tried to ask again as the
first of the readers came on stage. Harry gave up trying and gelled in. he’d a
few poems with him, stuff of a personal nature. When isn’t poetry personal,
when it’s fraud, Lots of fraud around unfortunately. Second reader came on
board, harry listened, glass near empty, dee remedied the matter. Second bottle
looked like a waif, near empty. Drinking too fast, must slowdown, ease up. dee
giggled along with most of the audience, the reader was funny. Third reader,
short and sweet. A musical interlude, a piano player, nice touch.
“no, I think I’ve had enough” quipped harry, sweaty palmed, as
Dee was about to drain the bottle
into his glass.
he looked at her, what a comment to make. The red dress didn’t suit her any more. She enjoyed attention too much. Harry liked low low. First major hurdle in the relationship. Couldn’t blame her for being beautiful. Red dress pushed her too far up the richter scale, like she was heat seeking. He put it down to nervousness on his part. She chatted to the barman as usual, who didn’t flirt. Unsavoury feeling though, watching other men admire your, he stopped. She wasn’t his. Another bottle in her hand, he’d enough, why she bother.
“ready” smiled buzz, who arrived at his table. He couldn’t help notice harry’s stare.
deep in company at the bar. Different man, who didn’t like red these days.
Friday, November 30, 2012
The peaks of perversion are never going to be reached,
don’t worry, children love adventure, your neighbor too,
god calls for massage on Friday, the ocean is your only
escape, women cry rape, men listen, the aids industry
thrives, so does everyone around it, call the dealer, get
a packet, and fast, my nose is bleeding, so is my head,
so is your heart, everyone is dead, satisfied or do you
need to see a certificate, it’s in the manual sir,
blast!.. !. Harry rubbed his forehead, unable to cope
with the rush, his toes tingling, all the way across his
back, over his shoulders, till his head lifted off
almost, my god he thought, shuddering all over. The joint
quickly died. Stubbing it into the desk, he wondered
if he deserved the resurrection of a fresh one or what
was it that was on his mind so recently. The Palestinian
issue had been dealt with, god should have been in
politics, I hate that, god I’m getting old, we’re all
getting old, but harry was getting older quicker he felt,
as he was forgetting things, the bleddy coffee he sighed
..a bath..yahoo he screamed exhibiting a roar that would
terrorize a muslim. Yes, a baptism he thought, why not
both he laughed, thinking out loud, I’ll ban religion and
make it even more popular. You can’t have that. He began
to yawn all of a sudden, his mental state crumbling
apart. His eyes were opening closing, fluttering in
disarray. Rest, was the answer, a bath and he could have
it all, yes, warm foamy liquid, he’d relax, sleep
perhaps, no one ever drowned in a bath. Many were killed
in them though. On his feet, he wobbled over to the edge
of the tub, turning on the hot he winched slightly,
plenty of it he thought, adding some cold. It’d take five
minutes to reach drowning point, six inches deep. Damn it
he thought, just when he was getting organized, he’d
forgot the final ingredient to his afternoon caper, a
bath fellow as he called it, a slender joint, well
rolled, not hard, but robust enough to last the course,
yet loose enough to allow plenty of fresh air. If I was
Cuban I’d roll it on the thigh of a virgin and not get
arrested. The makings were on the table. The bedroom
would be warmer. You can do this he fumed, slapping
himself across the face, shit that hurt he thought, sober
a few moments, his mental determination as acute as a
hard on in a nudist colony. Harry was awake mentally.
He slapped himself hard again, it hurt even more, but it
Shook him even more.
Jesus, what’s going, every where he looked, a window was
open. He couldn’t decide, the best place to make the bath
joint. Going into the bedroom, he sat down on the side of
the bed, his head in his arms, head going down and down.
Will I or won’t I he thought, roll that joint.
"jesus christ" he yelled. He raced into the bathroom. His
heart thumping furiously. The bath water was half full,
the ship hadn’t sunk, and there was plenty of hot water
left. Shock woke him further. Five minutes later, he was
all calm again, lying in it, a smoking joint in one
hand, a glass of water in the other, Balance he thought,
perfect balance, like the perfect woman, just be he
Each sip of water was followed with a suck, till
all there was left was a butt. Flicking it accurately
into the toilet bowl he began to play with himself. His
manhood though, looked a wet shriveled mesh of hair and
flesh, there was no response. He twiddled with the water
instead, palming it playfully over his chest. He then
began immersing his head in and out of the water as
playfully as a dolphin. Fish he sighed, wondering what it
was like to be a fish these days, very disappointing. To
have your home turned into an international sewage
treatment plant, it’s happening locally, smell the air he
thought sucking it in, the open windows allowing for
endless waves of fuel injected air to enter his space,
lovely he thought, the sweet whiff of chemicals blended
with monoxides, good. But did it matter he wondered, the
water silent, harry still. It mattered to the him that
moment, water quality, getting worse everywhere, full of
shit. But they have tablets for that too he yawned. He
sat up all of a sudden, water cascading down his body,
least your not a fish otherwise, otherwise he smiled
thinking quietly, getting serious with himself. As ever
the phone intervened, like it was trying to disturb him.
Damn it, I'll let it go, they'll call back, everyone is
lonely, The phone kept on ringing though, annoying him
for a good two minutes. It was time to begin a personal
manicure. Two minutes and six dunks later his hair was
washed, and clean of all traces of sud. His hairdresser
recommended conditioner to him the last time he got his
hair trimmed. Now he had a predicament. Feel like a
woman, the bob Dylan song entered his head all of a
sudden. Not that he felt he needed to feel a woman, he’d
have felt the first one available anyway, but he felt
like a woman all the same.
He didn’t have that album in his collection he recalled,
he’d buy it for himself for christmas he promised once he
sorted out the problem starring him in the face,
shopping, choosing was shopping, if not shocking
sometimes. The array of bottles to the side of the bath,
she couldn’t need them all he thought, maybe she mixes
them he sighed shaking his head at the chemical
concoctions, all in very colorful bottles, herbal, ying
yang, normal, everyday use, coloured, must be for black
people, all conditioners, he read the labels, dry hair,
normal, greasy and super greasy to choose from. She must
have had lots of men friends, all bathers too. He
pondered the choices. Just like a woman, he knew what bob
His hair, obviously wasn’t dry, so that was out. Which
one did lainey recommend, but her hair had been dyed so
often he thought, she was a natural what. For a second
he was normal, just his hair. Squirting a creamy blob
into his hand, he began to massage it into his head.
Telesales agents, should be banned he howled, once he
heard the phone come alive, again. Not now he screamed,
I’m not doing interviews. For a moment he thought it
might be her. It stopped then rang again. Down and up,
his head was immersed in the water for a nanosecond.
Leaving a watery trail in his wake, he reached the phone
just as the caller gave up. They'll ring back he sighed
with a shrug of the shoulders, always do. Out of the
bath, there was no point getting back in, condition or
not. Drying himself off, that was a bath he thought, as
if he’d never had one before.
“I bet he’s gone for a walk, he walks then writes, it’s
an inspiration thing!” she told herself. She’d have to
surprise him at home instead, they’d given her a raise
plus a promotion, just as harry said they would. She
wanted to thank him. Holding the phone in her hand,
she pondered. Was he worth it she thought, of course she
assured herself, smacking the phone down. Decision made,
she was going home early, to the man waiting for her!.
Dope makes you dopey he thought. Your thinking, so don’t
worry. He wondered if snow white and dopey, of the seven
dwarfs fame ever smoked. No, he Concluded, that was a
fairy tale, make belief. Besides a good looking woman
would have no time for a dude that only reached her
navel, unless he’d lots of money. Seated on the bed,
felt so comfortable too, but he couldn’t sleep, speech
he thought, speech, she likes me reading her stories in
bed and you like it too he thought, meaning himself. But
sleep, five minute power nap that’s all, his eyes
beginning to dictate to him, five minutes that’s all,
five harry, remember. Crumpling down on the bunch of
pillows, he hooked the loose covers over himself,
five minutes he promised. Should have done this sooner he
sighed, grabbing the duvet tight around him, five minutes
five minutes, have to write it, have to write he thought.
Fully asleep he was free to roam around his dreams
uncontested or disturbed. Grabbing and groping with
thoughts and revelations of every sort, he wandered and
wandered. Perhaps he was always on the verge of a nervous
breakdown. In the asylum, they’d consider that normal. He
shook in the bed, delving, going in and out of scene
after scene, seeking answers to issues that disturbed him
when awake. Millions of darkened bellies, all empty,
what an advertising nightmare for a food company, lots of
hungry people with no money to spend. Food parcels, He
smiled to himself, going further into his dream, they
were all alive, they were just dieting. They could always
ring the yellow pages and get a pizza home delivery. He
wondered if DHL delivered food apart from computer parts.
He muttered words, twisted in the bed. A towel that was
wrapped around his damp head, was now strewn on the
ground. Evil, must first get to know it intimately, he
smiled, smiled big. A Jesus truck had arrived with a
bread van inside it, did the feed the world trick,
without the need for personal appearance money.
Harry laughed, every story had to have a happy
ending. As for Noah, he was really a math professor who
couldn't count beyond two. Harry laughed again, turning
in the bed as he did, still in a state.
She hit him full blast across the face, shattering the
glass dream he was in. He opened one eye, then the other.
The side of his face hurt, why so, he wasn't sure. She
came into focus, the angry expression on her face was all
he saw. What time was it he thought, acting and looking
"you've been at it, you, jesus, can I ever trust
you!”. She wore a heavy scowl too.
Harry rubbed his face very firmly, from the forehead
down, feeling with his fingers, the crevices and sockets,
it was still there.
"jesus I'm alive, you wouldn't believe what happened me".
She lit a cigarette and sat down beside him, rubbing his
cheek with her free hand.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you!” she sighed.
“thanks!” he replied sitting up, sober with shock.
"twisting and turning, I thought you were on LSD
or something, what are you like, and no speech either
She passed him her cigarette, he tried his best to
explain. I was just bathing in future dreams he sighed.