THE SUDDEN MOMENT OF BEING KIDNAPPED BY THE DEAD



YOU SEE OSAMA BIN LADEN AND RONNIE BIGGS, SACKED TED BUNDY, BECAUSE HIS EARTH BODY

WAS TRYING TO BE NICE, SO OSAMA AND RONNIE GRABBED PAUL BERENYI AND BRIAN ALLAN

AND FLEW THEM AROUND THE PLANET JUPITER *******, AND BROUGHT ON WILD WEATHER

IN NSW, AND TRAP SO MANY PEOPLE, YOU SEE OSAMA AND RONNIE STRAPPED PAUL AND BRIAN

TO A ROBOTIC DEVICE, AND MOVING 5000 MILE PER HOUR, BRIAN AND PAUL SCREAMED CAUSE

NEITHER OF THEM WANTED TO BE KIDNAPPED TOGETHER, LET ALONE AT ALL, AND THEN, RONNIE BIGGS

GOT HIS TRAIN WHISTLE, HOWDY PARTNER, HOWDY PARTNER, I HAVE BRIAN ALLAN AND PAUL BERENYI

BOTH *******, NEVER TO ESCAPE, AND PAUL, TRIED TO DO A MIGHTY LEAP, OVER TO TWO MOONS, BUT

FAILED AS HIS LEGS ARE SO TIGHT ON HIS STRETCHER, AS ADAM WALSH, IS STILL STRAPPED TO THE SUN

THIS IS SWEET REVENGE FOR BRIAN AND PAUL, AS THEY ARE TRYING TO GET OUT OF THERE, YOU SEE

OSAMA SAID, YOUR KIDNAPPER IS DYING SLOWLY BUT SURELY, YA SEE BRIAN ALLAN HEH HEH HEH

YOU WILL NEVER GET OUT OF HERE, AND BRIAN AND PAUL WERE SCREAMING, AND THIS IS GOING TO

BE HARD AS *******, CAUSE BRIAN IS DETERMINED TO RID THESE EVIL VOICES, AND STOP ERECTIONS

IN HIS ****, WHEN HE SEES A KID, OSAMA SAYS, BRIAN ALLAN AND PAUL BERENYI AE WITH ME, THEY ARE WITH

US, WE’LL NEVER LET THEM GO, PAUL SAID, I WANT YOU REFORM OUR WAY BRI=URN AND THEN BRIAN SAID, MY MATE

PAT FROWNED AT MY GRANDMOTHER, BUT IT WAS IN GOOD CONVERSATION, HE WAS A NICE GUY, AND WHETHER OPEOPLE TEASE ME OR NOT

I SAY, TO MY VOICES, TEASE ME ALL YA WANT, AND OSAMA SAYS, NEH, KEEP BRIAN ALLAN AND PAUL BERENYI

FLYING AROUND JUPITER, ABOUT 400 TIMES, AND BRIAN ALLAN, WHO BELIEVES IN THE PARANORMAL, BELIEVES

HIS SPIRIT CAN BE BROKEN UP IN 23 PIECES, IN ORDER TO NOT DIE FROM UNLEASHING THE KIDNAPPER FROM WITHIN,

BRIAN ALLAN THOUGHT, WELL, OK, I NEVER KILLED A KID, OR BRUTALLY BASHED SOMEBODY, BUT I COULD’VE HAVE KIDS

OF MY OWN, IF I WAS TO GET PAST, MY **** GETTING AN *******, FROM LOOKING AT LEGS OF YOUNG KIDS, I FIND

THIS HARD, AS, I AM BEING TEASED, AS I WRITE, YOU SEE, AS I TYPE, THE PARANORMAL FEEL, OF ME, GETTING WEIRD DELLUSIONS

OF MY OLD MATES HAND PUSHING ME AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER, EVEN THOUGH I LIKE COMPUTERS, A LOT

YOU SEE, YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL, OF OSAMA BIN LADEN, HE COULD WRECK, ALL POSITIVE PARANORMAL ACTIVITY

AND IF HE HAS HIS WAY, NOBODY WILL BE SAVED, AND AS BRIAN IS TRYING TO GET FREE, BUT OSAMA SAID, WE WANT YOU TO STOP

YOUR ERECTED ****, I HAVE AMAJOR PLAN, TO CHOP IT OFF, BUT THEN BRIAN SCREAMED SO LOUDLY, ******* ******* OSAMA

YOU SEE, AT PRESENT, BRIAN ALLAN, IS FORCED TO BE A SHY OLD FOGIE, AS HIS CRACKED FEET ARE REALLY HURTING, AND BRIAN

IS GETTING SILLY DELLUSIONS, OF THE PARANORMAL, TAKING HIM FROM THE SIMPLE LIFE, AND REALLY MAKING BRIAN ALLAN STRUGGLE ON EARTH,

GIVING BRIAN ALLAN NO ENERGY, FORCING OLD MATES SAY, I AM NOT YA DADDY, I AM NOT YA FUCKEN LITTLE DADDY, BRIANY

AND, THE WAY OSAMA MADE BRIAN ALLAN STRUGGLE, BY TAKING HIS HAPPY BODY, BUT BRIAN ALLAN, SAID, DO THIS, TAKE ME

I WILL PREFER YOU TO DO ALL PARANORMAL THINGS WITH ME, I CAN TAKE IT, DUDES, YOU SEE, I USED TO ASK PEOPLE ON THE STREET

TO KIDNAP ME, MEANING I HATED MY DAD TREATING NE LIKE A LITTLE SHY BOY, AND BECAUSE OF THAT, I BECAME MORE RELUCTANT

TO TALK LIKE A SILLY KID, BUT I HATED MY DAD LAUGHING AT ME,  I TOLD HIM TO SHUT UP, LIKE AN ANGRY ROBBER, DAD AND MUM WERE

SICK OF ME, THEY CALLED IN A POLICEMAN, TO STAND OVER ME, AND IT WAS CLEAR FROM THAT DAY, THEY THOUGHT I WAS NEVER

CUT OUT TO BE LIKE THEM, I KNOW, I AM A MESSY KID AN ADULT, I TRIED TO BE NICE TO MUM AND DAD, BY WRITING STORIES OUT OF MY HEAD

AND I STARTED WRITING STORIES OF DESTRUCTION, DAD NEVER LIKED THOSE STORIES, AND TOLD ME, THESE STORIES AIN’T NICE, BUT, ME

I WAS WRITING STUFF OUT OF ME, THE CANBERRA CROWD, EVEN THE YOBBOS, ARE MORE SUPPORTIVE THAN MUM AND DAD, MUM HATED ME USING NAMES

DAD HATED DUDE USED IN STORIES, YOU SEE I CAN’T BE THE (QUOTEY FINGERS) SORT OF MAN, THAT THEY WANT ME TO BE, SURE I NEVER HAD ***

BUT IT WASN’T MUM AND IT WASN’T DAD, IT WAS I WAS GETTING A BAZ FROM KIDS, I AM NO PHEADPHILE OR MEN MY OWN AGE, I AM NOT GAY

I DO GET ERECTED ***** ON WOMEN, BUT MAINLY WITH KIDNAPPING THOUGHTS, AND I AM NO KIDNAPPER, AND BRIAN WAS SAYING ALL THIS STRAPPED TO A ROLLERCOASTER

GOING UP AND DOWN UP AND DOWN JUPITER, AND PAUL BERENYI, WAS ALSO SCARED, BUT SEEING HE WAS DEAD, HE DIDN’T HAVE TO REPASY HIS DEBT

YOU SEE PAUL BERENYI, KEPT TRYING TO GET THE POSTER FROM MY TV WEEK, AND ALSO HE PUT HIS HAND ON MY SHOULDER, ON AN AREA WHERE IT HURTS LIKE ANYTHING

AND HE SHOWED INTEREST IN A SCHOOL PROJECT, JUST TO PUT A DRAWING PIN UP MY ***, AND I HATED THAT, MIND YOU, IT DID STOP, BUT I DON’T WANT TO

START IT UP AGAIN, SO WHAT I AM DOING IS HELPING THE HOMELESS GET INTO HOMES, LIKE THE CANBERRA REX HOTEL AND TURN IT INTO HOMELESS HOTEL

AND PUT A BAR AND BISTRO, AS WELL AS DOCTORS AND DENTISTS AND LAUNDRY ROOMS ROUND THE CLOCK CLEANING CARE AND CHEAP ROOM SERVICE

AND AS OSAMA BIN LADEN AND RONNIE BIGGS, TOOK PAUL BERENYI AND BRIAN ALLAN TO SYDNEY, AND CAUSE THOSE VIOLENT STORMS, THE WORST OF IT IS OVER

AND BRIAN’S KIDNAPPER IS DYING, AND PAUL BERENYI AND BRIAN ALLAN WENT BACK TO THE SUN, WILL THEY BE SAVED BY THE POWERS OF ATHENA

He'd been hanging around for some time now, indeed... he'd become rather proficient in that direction of late and although it would probably be rude to point, you could hardly accuse him of loitering... and certainly not with intent, which would have been of some considerable comfort to Norman's Mother, given his current situation, particularly since the latest complication in his otherwise dull and uneventful life, had left him predisposed towards looking a little more drawn in the face than was usual for the time of year and a decidedly deeper shade of green.

     Barely discernible, only the deeper scars now remained to  mar the roadside foliage, bearing scant witness to the motorcycle's recent and untimely misadventure... regrettably with Norman still mounted astride.  Having lost all adhesion with the freshly resurfaced country lane the motorcycle had promptly slewed sideways and across the wet grassy verge before plunging down the wooded embankment, there to encounter its own humbling demise and land in the shallow watercourse below, but it was still early Summer and already the verdant undergrowth had begun to recover.

     At the point where his motorcycle, having determined without deviation or interruption to take the most direct route to its final resting place below and follow the downwardly allure of gravity... Norman being somewhat lighter and more aerodynamic than the former had been propelled, amid a flurry of leaves and twigs headlong through the outermost branches of the nearest tree... and promptly snapped his neck... Far below a dog-eared circular proclaimed 'kidz do it better on wheelz'!!!

       In many ways it was the most handsome beech tree you could ever wish to lay eyes upon, majestic in stature and albeit stationary in nature, was full of life, contrary to its uninvited guest who decidedly was not... but who definitely was just as static as the beech tree... and which by any stretch of the imagination had far more right to be there than Norman did.
  
     The sudden and unforeseen turn of events of the previous forty eight hours had cast grievous, Holiday nullifying inevitability directly into the path of any plans Norman may have prematurely made in that direction... and for the moment at least to be left hanging high and dry in the lush, verdant canopy far above his motorcycle, currently languishing in the sparkling clear waters below... and it has to be said, without so much as a pair of galoshes between them, and having little else to do other than hang around nodding his head in the warm Summer breeze he swayed gently up and down in the light country air.

     Pausing mid-twitch on three legs between Norman's deceased neck and his equally demised shoulders, an inquisitive squirrel was now the prime mover in our eponymous hero's sudden and discontinued modus-operandi as it provoked involuntary nods from Normans head, gestures of consent as the prying rodent set itself to investigate in great detail the darkest, innermost depths of Norman's inside breast pocket.

     Norman's unintentional leave of absence had finally extinguished once and for all any further thought of future remittance towards the outstanding balance due on the motorcycle hire purchase agreement, which as luck would have it was just as well, because his equally unintended leave of absence, so it transpired, had also extinguished Norman... and thereby deprived him once and for all of any further thought of his outstanding ability to pay them or indeed, any further thought at all.

     The squirrel meanwhile, having brushed aside the meagre contents of Normans pocket finally emerged victorious into the subdued light of the dappled canopy, brandishing a hard won paper-tissue proudly clenched between its teeth... before moving on to other, far more pressing matters on the branch opposite... then paused to scratch its ear...  Now it may be of some interest to the reader at this point... or not, as the case may be, but the squirrel allegedly knew a friend of a friend, who incidentally runs the little B&B; further down the road and who would be prepared to swear on Norman's other-worldly life that she'd seen far worse looking faces peering back from the bathroom cabinet mirror of a Sunday morning after a ***** night out with the lads... than anything she could ever possibly imagine exercising squatters rights way above in the majestic beech tree.

     Flies seemed to be one of the few living creatures that morning who hadn't raised any objection to Norman's ill-mannered intrusion... indeed, were currently hatching plans of their own in that particular direction and take intimacy to the next level with regard to lunchtime seating arrangements... and who had assured him from day one, that while their long term prognosis for Norman attaining ***** and independent posture was by no means cut-and-dried, he should nevertheless be moving about, not necessarily under his own steam in no time at all... and by the look of his complexion, it would seem that in the interim period he should be thankful for the company.

     As the balmy Summer afternoon steadily drew to its own happy conclusion Norman, without a care in the world and now in the early larval stage of being in the family way, so to speak and shortly to shed a little life of his own... stared vacantly out at what had recently become his own neck of the woods, rapidly becoming a permanent fixture in the pastoral landscape... and while his sudden relocation may have been a real eye opener for some, for Norman he'd discovered the true meaning of be at one with nature, about the birds and the bees and especially the flies in the trees...  

     So there we must leave poor Norman with his recent and enduring affliction, nodding in the dappled shade of the majestic beech tree, playing host to the countryside and the following seasons crop rotation, leaving his Mum to worry as to whether her Son had fresh underwear that morning... or not as the case may be... the County Constabulary making their door to door enquiries as to Norman's current whereabouts... his former employer re-adjusting next months pay cheque... accordingly and the hire purchase company about to dispatch final demands indiscriminately left, right and centre for financial delinquency.  The only other claim you could probably make with any degree of certainty was that Norman's full-face motorcycle helmet had by no means achieved that which was expected of it for his ultimate well-being that day... and was doing little more than keep his hair dry and his spectacles from slipping further than his chin.
                                                           ­  ­                                                                ­ ­                                                                ­ ­             ...   ...   ...**

A work in progress.                                                        ­                                                     1122

harry and the force




you see young harry stone who was only 13 years old, started being trapped by these

weird paranormal forces beyond his control, well ted bundy, says, i think there is a bit

of hooligan in his itchy feet, and harry hated this, because he was only 13, and he was

too young for tinnea or dermatitis or anything else like that, you see the forces would reach

out into his body, to grab the computer nerd, and said to him, you are scared harry, and we

are trying to **** you ok, harry screamed, LEAVE ME ALONE,  and the forces said, neh oh neh

we will never leave you alone, cause your still a little young dude, harry, harry, wanted to be free

from these terrible forces, but there is no way, known to man, that forces want to leave harry alone,

harry said, leave me alone, i am only young, i am only young, let me go, i am too young to

to be trapped by paranormal forces beyond my control, but the forces said, you are never too young, buddy

we will push the computer nerd away from you, and in the meantime, we will reach in and grab

your little young dude or your hooligan, and harry said, leave me alone, i am not a family person, like that

i am a tad too shy to be a family person to a kidnap, i want to get out, i am too young harry screamed

i want the forces to treat me like a family hooligan, but the forces said, no, i will make you suffer, and harry

was starting to get upset with the forces, but couldn’t control himself, you see he said, let’s put twisted sister

on for a party, and then buy fish and chips, and then harry went away to squeeze himself through a drainpipe, and

one man put a bin lid on both sides and asked someone to hold it, so harry couldn’t get out, but harry can’t escape

and was terribly scared, saying please, take the families, not me, take the families, not me, but the forces said

i prefer to take you, trap your feet, because you are scared, and instead, of making you run away from  us, we have

our ways, to get caught up in your tinnea itchy feet, harry asked, can you left me go, or i will get this fist, and put it

right to your head, and then the forces pushed his feet down into the carpet, and every friend harry had, was forced

by the forces to be harry’s kidnapper, and every time anyone teased harry, the forces will make the teasers kidnappers also,

and harry said, i am a family person, and the forces said, yeah a family person to a tease yeah, don’t be like us harry,

be a little shy boy, allow us, to push your feet down, harry got sick of everyone treating him like a hooligan, but everyone

was having fun using harry as the forces little skate goat and you see all the itchiness, if you look at the X-ray of his foot

ands the paranormal activity, which is forcing harry to be too shy to muck with the families, but the real reason, harry

was saying, i am not like those families who get kidnapped killed or murdered, i hate family people who go to bed early

harry also said, he likes family life, but he likes staying up, while the nerdy family people (little going to bed cool kids)

go to bed, and harry would listen to music watch youtube, perform on youtube, watch TV, and read street machine magazines

but the forces made all his mates like his family better, because they went to bed, so much in fact, they went to bed leaving

harry to be a little young dude staying up all night, playing cool for nerdy families who head off to bed, you see harry loved

to stop up all night, he found that fun, but his father and mother were getting worried about harry, but harry said, he is young

and he runs free, you see every time someone teases him, he would feel kidnapped by the nerdy family people, and

would go home and keep his feet planted on the ground, with the forces saying, harry, you are a family person alright

a family person to a tease, and harry was very upset and yelled out, LEAVE ME THE **** ALONE, his friends said, neh oh neh

you are still a hooligan, harry, but harry got sick of this, in fact he hated, saying just because he stays up all night, doesn’t mean he’s a hooligan

in fact harry is a stay up late little cool dude, and all his mates found harry is cool, and they all said, your like us now, harry

and harry yelled out it’s my life it’s now or never i ain’t going to live forever, i am going to live while i am alive, it’s my life

my heart is like a open highway, i am going to do it my way, it’s my life, and harry then told the forces, don’t you think bon jovi

is really inspiring, man, and the forces said to harry, we are going to keep your feet glued to the floor, like your a hooligan or a nasty

little young dude, and the forces then said, you sit up all night, we go to bed saying don’t be like us, harry, don’t be like us, harry

be a little young dude, buddy, you like us, as they would say to a person who loves to stay up all night, and the forces begin

to bring out a methane filled python and it took a bite out of harry, and harry cried for days, after he woke up with his family

standing on each corner of the bed, and harry noticed the python bites on his fingers but that was to improve the quality of your life

and harry’s sister said, your one of the young dudes harry, and they all went into the kitchen to have breakfast, and the forces

stayed away till the next night, where they can capture harry again, but harry likes staying up all night, playing cool for his nerdy family

HARRY IS BASED ON MYSELF AS A KID, the forces forced me to tie myself up, i have a mental illness all my life, even as a child

i really never thought it was a big deal, don’t follow my path, beat the forces, ok beat the paranormal forces, i was and i stress was one of those crazy people

BUT STAYING UP LATE IS COOL FOR AN ADULT AS WELL, i really don’t want the forces to trap me, anymore, because playing cool for my nerdy family is cool

Briano alliano performs on Jupiter

Hi dudes and dudettes
Welcome to my concert up here on Jupiter and it is time to have some fun and here is my first song for you called robbers and bandits

You see as I walk down the city streets
I see these robbers and bandits
Trying to take my money
Saying please please honey
Can I have your money
You see we are poor and
We have no place to call home at night
I said there is no need to rob me
I will give you $2 to $5 and I know that might not be enough
But I am just as hard done by as you in a way
The robbers and bandits said
To me we need your blood
And we need your money
I know you might not like that
But it is our only way
So just give us $3000 ok
If you don’t you will die
Personally I prefer to be positive
About how silly they are being
Trying to rob a Good Samaritan
Like me, you here about it on the news and you don’t think of it happening in real life
But I think it happened and I have to just sit back and say
Robbers and bandits had me again

The next song is push me to the limit
You see when I was young
I was really cool
I used to tease my dad
Who I thought was being conservative too
You see he came up to me and said
C’mon I will fight you I’ll fight you yeah I will
But he was trying to make me stand up for myself
And I thought mate I needed to put pride in myself
But I know dad didn’t mean to
As such but he pushed me to the limit oh shucks
I was just being a normal kid
Teasing my father and being rude
Dad hated what I was doing to him
He gave me medication to calm
Me down
It worked for a while but then
I completely lost it
When the drugs I was taking
Started to push me to the limit
I hated it I really did
But fighting the people that were trying to help me
Well, this wasn’t cool
So I decided to obsess about taking the meds, even if I got
Strange dillusions which I didn’t want I sat there watching
Family programs on tv
Because of the fact I have
No family of my own
It worked out ok till one day
The dollusions came and I did something bad and straight to the psych ward I went
You see the doctors were bad
And i thought they
Pushed me to the limit in an unusual way then my dad said to me just stay with your friends
And let them help you
But it was hard and I felt pretty ****, so I sang fly burgers loud and strong

The next song is I want to go to the movies
Oh I want to go to the movies
To see a movie that is cool
Like raising Arizona and beaches and ghostbusters
I felt pretty cool
Then I saw polar express and then I saw Arthur’s Christmas
And superman returns as well as goal yes that makes me feel so divine and if I don’t feel like going there I will watch movies on tv like Harry Potter da Kath and Kim code and pirates of
The carribean too
Yes they are all good movies
And yes I will enjoy them a lot
Drink a beer or a methane smoothie yeah oh yeah
These movies are great

What a song this next song is living next door to a party
You see we are trying to watch
Our shows on tv
When a great big loud speaker
Played music so loud
And the swearing, mate wasn’t quite as good we need to fix
The noise because it’s deafening and after that
The television played around
You see the computer chips
Were playing around
It is all because we all
Were living next door to a party
Listening to swearing and loud music and people swinging around and hanging up and hanging down and partying good yes we hang around outside pubs and yes we are cool but me I thought these people are in no club, and they have to be careful not to break anything, but they don’t care as they party loud and you find it hard to live next door to a party

That was a good song yes it’s groovy our next song is called mmmm donuts
Oh yeah I love my donuts
I feel like Homer Simpson
As I bring down my donuts
Yeah I love them they are nice
Mmmmm donuts mmmmmm donuts I love them I love them
Yes when I eat a donut
It melts in my mouth
I feel like a little sour ****
As I eat one down and then the other
I give the donut to my mother
What if she does the donut rap
And partied down
Up up up up and down down down
You see if you look like Homer Simpson you must say
Mmmmm donuts every single day
Mmmmm donuts every single day c’mon party the Homer Simpson way

Thank you Jupiter crowd and that was mmmmmm donuts the great song and now here is my waltzing Matilda
Once a jolly young dude
Partied from club to club
Dancing with all the girls in there
And after that we drank some taquila shots you’ll come a partying with Matilda oh yeah
I love a party really really partying I might not look it
But I am a social guy
I go to events to party down with the party dudes
Oh yeah
Then we got down to the great
Football club we watched the game and listened to the band
The music they played was cool and very very hip and the girls asked me to dance
I danced an unusual way everybody looked at me
Thinking I was a tad crazy
But I didn’t care because I am a party dude you’ll come a partying in the football club with me

Thank you dudes and dudettes and now here is a great song called this is *******
Ahh this is *******
Really really *******
The crap you are trying to tell me is driving me up the wall
I hate that crap I really do
So why do you want to play ******* to me
Ahh this is *******
Oh yeah this is *******
Watching ****** reality television which doesn’t mean a thing
Ahh this is *******
Really really *******
You see they play gridiron
And they play ice hockey
And yeah it is party time
I like partying and I like teasing
The conservos as they are doing their jobs
You see ahh they speak ******* total total *******
Ahh this is *******
It is total *******
Watching the crap they speak on sky news on win
You see it is right wing crap ya see
As the oldies sit there with their cup of tea
Yeah that is *******
Total utter *******
Yes ******* comes around
In their mouths every day
Yes they do
Ahh they speak *******
Complete and utter *******
And that is the truth
Or is it ahhhh *******
Thanks guys and gals and I want to say this enjoy Jupiter and I will see you when I come again.

loving this **** ghost
who will never be alive
like drinking poison

only your essence
to haunt me every day
never the true thing

I want to feel warmth
not the absence of real love
paranormal dreams

letter to elana

for the poet elana bell

~

in a different cafe,
on a Manhattan streetscape where once, years earlier,
violence was the purview of West Side Story gangs,
ruling their internecine non-intersectionality territorial blood lines supremely

nowadays, violence replaced by the frenetic
noises of Lincoln Center theater goers,
student dancers, actors, musicians and poets joining the throng
of those who sup and run,
all hearing their own frantic
curtain calling, saying, announcing,
music dance voices words require your obeisance,
needy for a mutual worshipping reassurance fiat that:

life can be made transcendent
if even for just 90 minutes or 120 pages,
or a 3 minute poem reading

this city of millions requires billions of poems that spoon stirred  
and yet, almost always fail, to squeeze, all of the human essence that is in its ultimate source, clarifying nyc tap water,
containing the storied remnants of a hackable continuous,
single human stanza cell osmosis - a blockchain like no other

two poets sit side by side each in their own lapsed dreams,
she, a published poet of prize and rank, ^
he, a rank amateur whose only prize is his unpublished anonymity,
poetry, is his just a nightly soul cleansing,
an imported remnant of his Marrano piyyutim ancestry

one turns to the other,
in the inexplicable daily crazy miracle
of city fashionistas

in a city where stealing a parking spot, or the
forced squeezing creation of a subway seat space
where physics proves none exists,
are oft the roots of slashing and stabbings faithfully reported
on the 11 o’clock news,  
and trust and/or other encouraging words
are seldom heard and even less demonstrated,
the make-no-eye-contact of Camus’s L’Etranger anomie is the
normative, paranormal, paralysis cloak of we city separatists

“Can you watch over my electronics and stuff?”

Sure says the grayed and grizzled,
an all life long veteran of nyc,
judged to be trustworthy
based on a few seconds of being upsized and downsized,
a car wash (exterior only) perusal
despite a
“no direction home, like a compete unknown, a rolling stone,”  
this signage, yellow star permanently chest-affixed,
conveniently ignored, as it seems impossible
thieves don’t look like me,
don’t likely in their possess,
a distinguished head of gray hair (yeah, sure)

a thank you reward of (or did I imagine it) a lean-in,
a momentary head on a shoulder,
the chit chat now grows earned and earnest,
she confesses her cardinal poetry profession,
eliciting an ‘Oh Boy’ utterance from the poet
of a thousand names
and a thousand textual emendations

a fastidious nyc boundary is brief crossed for one short meal,
till the end when time sensitized IMRL intrudes and
the showtime calls out,
if not now, when? if not me, then who?

I read her poetry later in the praying supine first position of
three AM, and laugh with delight, at the contrast and no compare,
the styles clash and tho the stories told
are both writ in the aleph bet script,
there ends the Ven diagram overlap and
into the night’s coming of a Elvisian blue suede coverlet,
we both disappear, and if not for this recording,
history says, you old man confused, never happened,
just an imaginary poetry ink blot dream breaching...

~

postface:
another poetry book is no longer homeless,
comes to shelter upon my shelf, close to Angelou, far from Whitman,
now all the book’s nooks eyes collectively
reassessing the new old-owner, parsing his syntax,
undecided if his readership is worthy of them,
concluding that all these books are the
man’s owned roughened stones,
to be placed by human hands on the
serpentine curvature of his literary tombstone,
and until all stones fully read,
they all agree,
will they and he
be fully freed,
smoothing his legacy’s edges

Metallic-, ionic-, covalent bonds.
Persisting still proving, able to break.
The forces assured, the pressures endured,
the attraction unequal, results left uncured.

Surely there exits an unbreakable bond,
created by a wand from a paranormal pond.
A connection not so rare, sharing DNA in our hair.
A bond assuring trust, selflessness and care.

Not even death, can break a bond that strong
and this may seem unfair, science points to wrong
but this is no illusion, my doubts are less than low
I do not have to prove, what I already know.

Its far beyond a feeling, description left unknown.
This bond is right beside me, never am I alone.
I do not need an idol, I do not need a god.
Impossible to forge a key, it's not that type of lock.
My brother is my hero, my brother is my rock.

Science can't save you, neither can religion,
at least Popper and Niebuhr, philosophers and poets,
are entertainers, which is why actors and athletes
are paid so much. Thanks for the summaries.
I was teaching Shakespeare's 92nd ridiculous sonnet
to my student who lays blacktop in the off season
Shakespeare bellyaching about dying without her love
a feeling foreign to a modern adolescent sensibility
although many teens are pretty far gone searching
for their mothers or fathers in their dazed lovers' eyes.
Which is why we call it "the wound that never heals."
Or the lesion that's always lengthening. And bleeding.

Muslim fundamentalists and their Christian counterparts
are a mystery to me. Pews and prayer rugs, the airless
indoor environment of religious worship, reading
scriptures, hypnotized by hymns and fainting from staring
at candles through stained glass windows, almost certain
the preacher is faking his certainty about the afterlife.
It's not my problem. A more immediate concern:
receding gums and tooth extractions, swollen joints,
poor lubrication and circulation, wave after wave
of viral infection, the occasional antibiotic-resistant
bacterial attack, usually urinary, and who knows
what internal organs are dividing and conquering
without mercy or cease, i.e. the wound that never heals.

It is wise not to overvalue your continued existence,
good not to be innumerate, unable to compare
a mere 80 years with say 6.0 x 109 or all of time
(to date) times the multiverse. Conversely,
it is interesting all of space and most of history is contained
in your mind (realizing of course it's just a map
of the cosmos not the cosmos itself, or is it?). I'm
unable to wrestle free, tongue in that cavity
and locked in my memories, so separate and disparate
from the biomass in the crosswalks, even my spouse.
Alone, so alone, even your doctor can only devote
limited thought to your situational mortality through
the redress of poetry - also a wound that never heals.

Snow for eternity, that's what this February's been.
All to the good, for someone it's the final February
so enjoy it to the extent you can. By that I mean joy.
Joy at birth. Joy at death. All joy. All times. Anyway,
that was Shakespeare's message: even tragedies are comedies.
May, a Buddhist, chants each morning.
Her husband, Marc, who's Jewish, plays league tennis.
Their son, Aaron, will soon make Eagle scout.
How does that relate to your wound that never heals?
Luck runs out. For D.H. Lawrence in New Mexico
or Ulysses S. Grant in Ohio or Yasujiro Ozu in
Tokyo or Satyajit Ray in Bombay or Rabindranath
Tagore in Bangalore or at the Battle of the Atlantic in the Azores.

The night is a poultice, winter or summer solstice.
My anonymity will not affect the anomie ghettoside
seeing for myself how season by season
vacations and accomplishments accumulate, late in life
and early on, sunrise over mountains or moonrise over Bronx.
Masturbator, prisoner of war. Hospice of the Holy Roman Empire.
Numerous blue notes: the 3 flat, 7 flat, 5 flat,
the 6 flat and the 2 flat too. I don't get
what Wallace Stevens means by imagination.
When groundhog shows up as a totem, there is opportunity
to explore the mystery of death without dying.
This then is the purpose of purposelessness (and of eating less)!
Now what about that wound that never heals.

The Skeptical Observer column in Scientific American
was somewhat alarming when he accepted a paranormal
explanation for how his wife's grandfather's inoperable
transistor radio played music from its hiding spot
in his sock drawer on, and only on, their wedding day.
Now I'll have to believe my father (or mother!) is watching me
perform private ****** acts with (or without) partners
or that they could even know my thoughts. Or aliens
are attending our committee meetings and making
perfectly reasonable decisions given the available information
and the world is rotating just fine without humans.
These possibilities - angels, ghosts, aliens - are better
than holocaust and genocide. In this way,
and only in this way, does doom become endurable.
The wound that never heals in the end is all you'll feel.

sample precursor: there are three binding directions of a chemical group (e.g. CH3) to the benzene ring - the ortho-, the meta- and the para-... but i'll ask a different question: what is copernican north what is copernican east a copernican west or a copernican west without a "flat-earth" / how else to read / navigate a 2D map going from point (a) via vector (c) to point (b) along the short-cut of the hypotenuse - which, isn't a short-cut, but the logical conclusion of walking neither the middle path nor the right path, but the logical path? we're no astronauts... we didn't see the proof... we can only entertain the "idea" of a 3D object we live on, but we're still strapped to a "flat earth" in order to navigate... endless stories of how GPS tech. fooled people off the edge of a cliff... "flat earth" is no reverse psychology ploy... i'm no ******* astronaut... i never stood left right or center on the moon to have the foggiest sense of admiration for that awe-balancing moment that leaves so many deluded in it being otherwise: first come first served, last come: what's there's to serve that last man if not merely the drudge-report of a commute? besides... trans- and cis-, why are people borrowing from chemistry and attaching gender to what is exlusive to chemical compounds? look at them... pop chemistry... cis-trans isomerism... fine, let these people have that... my new n.e.w.s. (north, east, west, south): orthography, something clearly missing in the anglophone world (no diacritical markers, i and j do not count)... ergo? orthography = east... paranormal = west... since the west is obsessed with either aliens or hush-hush military projects... now... both north and south are meta- coordinates... on the basis, on the basis of what? two words really work well to establish a foundation: from ars poetica? metaphor (borrowed from a change of mind - meta- and -phren - mind, a change of mind, all mental illnesses are changes of the mind, alternatives to alleviate the stranglehold of the commune of the greater picture known as society)... but... there's also metaphysics... which is in the interest of philosophy... how else not to explain the obvious, how else to treat both the reader / audience as the well informed genius(es) but mistreat them as would be grander genius(es) if the socratic endeavour of "pretense ignorance" was not to be established? it's a hard juggle... east is already well established in orthography, west in paranomal... literally: metaphor - a change of mind, literally metaphysics - a change of groundwork physicality of things... a rock remains a rock in either "heaven" or in "hell"... metaphysically there seems to be a direct translation... this is why i'm terrible at crosswords, this whole puzzle structure of either working from a direct definition to the word itself, some random geographical posists, some historical posits, some outdated out-of-vogue words related to specified period idiosyncracy, a tinge of the therausus... my current crossword is an interchange: meta-phor, meta-physics, meta-phot, meta-physics and on and on it goes: even with the isolated prefix of meta-, if i return to the words: as they are... would: denoting a change of thinking (state of mind) or... denoting a change of physics, i'm met with metaphysics, i.e.: a branch of philosophy that deals with the first principles... sounds like a priori physics, yet all i can fathom if i wrestle this word to its casual use: isn't it a posteriori physics?! the what comes after physics? i should think that most people understand metaphysics on an a posteriori basis rather than an a priori basis... hence the question: what happens when we die? last time i checked: death happens last... birth happens first... any question-worthiness (according to heidegger) should begin at: the beginning rather than begin at the end, in the same way that all questions should be sought in a medium of predating the dates of events, rather than with a spirit of hindsight, hindsight belongs to the "what if" of history in that dynamism of expressed time... on the canvas of an infinitely expanding space: we seem to be riddled by a very cul de sac concept / expression of time: our quill - given that ****** didn't learn from napoleon when it came to russia... perhaps finding out what copernicus found out: "we" figured: get me off this ******* celestial carousel where i can't even feel the dizzy immediate of a ferris wheel! again: i'm terrible at crosswords, sudoku? no problem... but words: if not gushing out of me, waiting like a lizard predator for a linear narrative spew? count me out... i don't play with words, i use words... i'm a wordsmith, hence the ethnic origin denote: słowianin: slav - i don't know where these west-saxon punks derived their etymology from: słowo = word... *****-liquor juice teens thought it was: oh fo' sho' smart... still: metaphor, metaphysics... metaphor... metaphysics... disgruntled with the immediate compound readied for pop use... meta-physics... the vector is the prefix... why do philosophers push metaphysics so much, but in turn rely on the crutch of metaphor? to change their mind, if metaphysics is an abstract theory with no basis in reality, then the schizoid / metaphorical mind is an abstract in an abstracted theory of the mind - which has "no" knowledge of reality, or rather: "reality" excludes such a mind from ever absorbing an expression in it... a schizophrenic can't explain the reality of a person who can solve crossword puzzles... just as someone who solves crossword puzzles with a fear of alzheimer's: who treats the fatty tissue that's the brain as a muscle... given that the cells of alzheimer's disease are killer proteins... proteins as the antithesis of white blood-cells that feed of fat tissue... after all: what else could the brain be if not fat and water? slow burner... first the sugars, then the more complex carbohydrates, then the fat: last? the proteins... the process of starvation... you want up? you want down? again: metaphysics / metaphor... ta meta ta phusika... the things after the physics... so what's with the inverted: prior things? hence people associated a life after death... hence how philosophers have to escape into the poetic realm to quickly change their minds on the definition... a change of mind is much easier than a change of what physicality entails... most spew metaphors but keep on course... after all: given the genesis of the metaphor, a metaphor is just a tool, a humble stop-off pause... born from humble poetics: it's only a literary tool, it's not some grand pillar of morality associated metaphysics, which nonetheless dictates: first principles come last and last principles come first... here's my crossword puzzle: metaphor, metaphysics, meta-alpha, meta-beta, metaphor and the meta-alpha, metaphysics and the meta-beta... etc. etc., i will not solve this crossword puzzle, even though it doesn't look like a crossword puzzle... it's a narrative crossword puzzle, i'm just looking for the sort of fixed point people associate with prime words: red, left, blue, right, up, fox, dog... words of readied vocabulary, readied vocabulary dissociated from puzzled vocabulary... i want to established a fixed permanence of the dissociated close proximity grounded in the meta- prefix of the words meta-phor and, meta-physics... i'm starting to find this impossible, given how the words have dissociated themselves from the grounding in the meta- prefix... phor alias phren (mind) and the whole gush of isolated metaphysics of beginnings: meta a priori vs. meta a posteriori - and of course: meta a- apriori... hell if i can't solve crossword puzzles: since i already have a crossword puzzle in my head... what am i to do? try writing pop?! a dog does what his master orders, a jester tells a joke his king would find amusing... i'll just treat this enclave of an audience as a bunch of people subscribed to ulterior forms of voyeurism (dissociated from pain / pleasure gratification, esp. that of a ****** nature).

.you know like in latin you had the interchangeable tongue twisters æ and œ? well... english resurrected one more... au... oh stralia... auntie; ******* hell i've been speaking this since aged ate and i still can't get my tongue into that phonetic plughole... or what's that onomatopoeia for: it really hurts? awe... nah... aw... aw... well no cute kitten about to say aww.

well it began with the usual... i wish i didn’t...
sitting in the autumnal garden
drinking coffee and eating a nicotine croissant,
watching the fog recede into nothing
while the earth showed its naked cleavage
after what seems like centuries of arcane dryness
befitting a story of an egyptian idol...
then the panic set in...
what to cook?! what to cook?!
my mother is away visiting her parents in poland,
who celebrate the feast of all saints with the usual
tackle formidable in poland:
forget the paris fashion week, forget the london fashion week...
forget the next gucci advert...
all the action happens in poland’s annual all saints’ fashion week...
through the cemetery (ahem) cat walks
(more like death on rollerblades donning a tutu
and looking fatter than size 0 models)...
because that’s when the fur coats are worn,
the make-up is heavier and everyone comes
to discuss the materialistic jealousy of a small town...
it is a small town after all...
death knocks with all the nine cat’s lives just to prove
the point...
anyway, so i’m the head chef, and in panic
i search for a recipe... i’ve only got pork on the ready
in the recognisable frozen state...
but i also have shrimps... tiger prawns...
so i look through the usual suspects... thai green curry...
ah ****! no coconut milk!
what’s it going to be? prawn korma curry
(better mild than hot i say, with all this maple syrup
and honey colours about... talk about decay),
active ingredients? chilli powder (1/2 tsp), cinnamon
(1/2 tsp), turmeric (1/2 tsp) and ground almonds (2 tbsp),
there ready... looking suntanned my gorgeous twirls of seabed manure...
enough to spare my father making himself sandwiches (i always
disguised my “dyslexia” by associations... sandy witches...
the t broke the barriers and the floods entered)...
with toasted nannies / au pairs... relatives of some sort...
then onto writing my father’s invoices:
project plaistow hospital and some housing development near
the city airport... beckton we call it... backwards and forwards
stink crowned with drinkers regurgitating on the pave...
now that is a *******... recycling centre or horse manure?
then to tesco... for the nightcap...
oddly enough tesco has become a friend of mine once more,
i divorced the turkish shop, they added 10 pence to the polish beers,
now i’m on the sedative medication of this bottle bavaria beer
and whiskey... 1 quid for the former... 10 quid for the latter -
i’ve sold my soul! never mind...
then to the beacon that’s home... it’s night... it’s spooky...
it’s essex: that non-touristy place in england people with passports
never dare to visit, shambles.
well one thing came out true... none of the above though:
you ever consider the theory of the aeroplane syndrome in writers?
you know, like with rock stars you get the full package,
you get the aeroplane and the retrieved delay of the engine mushroom,
but with poetry (which is competing with music,
philosophers just wait in that queue for the cheese, wink, whine and wrinkle)
you only get the sound... that delayed mushroom...
you see the poet but never hear him...
it’s a typical delusion i’d call parallel or even adjacent to narcissism,
you walk down the street and the closest you come
to someone recognising you is a stranger uttering out: ‘hey richard!’
‘name’s matt mate.’
‘oh... sorry.’
it’s this aeroplane syndrome theory... it’s perfectly acceptable...
you have the image but don’t have the delayed sound...
you have the delayed sound... but you only get a photograph...
you have the english national health service mental health unit crisis...
and then you have people shunning intellectualism
trying to cure people by burning / not reading philosophical books;
the day ends with drinking and reading
an article about keith richard’s antics in the sunday times’ supplement
and the thought: well i gave her a stabbing chance
at feminism... she thought the active ingredient in anti-contraception
pills was placebo... she phoned and gave birth to me...
i said abort... you’re no post-teen mum at university, you won’t be...
******* was great but i’m not that much of a match from a cosmopolitan magazine quiz
(as duly taken on my way from st. pestersburg to moscow to see
metallica play), plus there are no roofing jobs in scotland...
the scots have mountains already... there’s no point building
scratched sky skylines with mountain ranges nearby...
so even though i went to a catholic school...
i did my first redemptive act by reading about gnostic heretics...
and not getting confirmed being the second...
i would have not taken first communion... but playing the xylophone
at the nativity play was too much fun...
plus it is the only salvador dali bit of the story...
after that you have st. sebastian...
plus you see where this is going... the greeks translated
the tetragrammaton into the gospels
of st. matthew, luke, mark and john...
and the romans were duped into the legality of
things... first name, second name, confirmation name...
surname.

THE FALSE ALARM, THERE WAS A PROBLEM, BUT UNEXPLAINED



YOU SEE, THERE WAS A PROBLEM, WITH THE SPACE STATION

YOU SEE THE TERROSISTS DID GET ABOARD THEIR SHIP

AND FORCE A SMALL PROBLEM, AND THEN TOOK ME AND PAUL HOSTAGE

NO THERE WAS A PROBLEM, AND YES, THE END OF THE WORLD COULD BE NEAR

BUT NOBODY CAN E4XPLAIN THIS, CAUSE IT IS PARANORMAL

NOTHIN MORE NOTHING LESS, PLUS THAT MENTALLY ILL MAN

WHO WAS KILLED FOR ILLEGAL CAMPING, ALSO YELLED THESE CURSE WORDS

YOU FUCKEN ****** ******* FUCKEN POLICE MEN

YOU SHOULD BE THE ONES UP HERE AND NOT ME

BUT YOU DON’T FUCKEN CARE FOR THE MENTALLY ILL, ONE LITTLE FUCKEN BIT

I WANT TO BRING MYSELF BACK AGAINST THE POWERS OF BUDDHA

AND **** THESE POLICEMEN, BUT THAT BREAKS THE RULES OF THE BUDDHA

AND THE TERRORISTS TOO BRIAN AND PAUL OFF TO THE SUN

TO STRAP THEM DOWN, TO NEVER LET THEM GO

PLUS THE TODLER KILLED BY THAT HOODLUM IN SYDNEY

SAYS THESE WORDS, AS HE IS MY UNCLE RAY

*******, WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TOO,

WE CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS, WE CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS

IT’S WRONG TO HASSLE THE LIVING, SO I WANT TO

BECOME A NEW LIFE CREATED BY CRONUS MY LAST ADULTS LIFE NEPHEW BRIAN

THE TERRORISTS ARE KEEPING BRIAN AND PAUL STRAPPED TO THE SUN

EARTH ARE SAFE FROM THESE TERRORISTS, BUT NOT IF YOUR CRONUS LIKE ME

UNCLE RAY JUMPED UP AND SAID, I WANNA BE FAMOUS, I WANT TO BE A FUTURE PRESIDENT

I WANT TO LOVE LIFE, AND LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST

I WANT TO SAVE MY NEPHEW BRIAN FROM THE TERRORISTS

TO EXPLAIN, THE WORLD IS HARD, TO GET WHAT YOU WANT

WITHOUT ANY KNOWN QUALIFICATIONS,

BUT I CAN GET QUALIFICATIONS FROM BEING IN MENTAL HEALTH SHOWS

AND ONE DAY BE A FAMOUS PERSON

BUT WHAT THE NEWS SAID, THE SPACE STATION WAS A FALSE ALARM

NOTHING WAS WRONG, WELL, NOTHING WAS WRONG THAT COULD BE EXPLAINED

FOR EARTHLIKE ACTIVITY THAT IS

NO IT WAS SOMETHING, BUT IT WAS UNEXPLAINED

BRIAN AND PAUL, FIND THEMSELVES STRAPPED TO THE SUN

TO GIVE INTERNET BRIAN ALLAN AND JACK VIDGEON A MUCH BETTER LIFE

AND FIND A WAY TO GET AWAY FROM THEIR UNEXPLAINED KIDNAPPINGS

My married life
has a new ghost fix du jour—
a show called Haunted Collector
where John Zaffis pulls *****
historical do-dads out of haunted
domiciles, lines them up in bell jars
every harrowing episode.
His basement must be bursting
under the floorboards with EVP
chatter, ephemeral dead men
making residual trips down the hall
for midnight tuna-fish.

Last night we went down to Louisiana
in Deep South Paranormal
where a cast of drawling ghost hunters
cat-called the departed with backwater
truisms about cats and frissons.
Two bearded ZZ Top-types rattle
and shout through the Longleaf sawmill,
suffocated, chipped and abandoned.

But interestingly, our typecast yokels
take a new tactic beyond respect,
sympathy and confrontation. They play
their guitar for the undead, unleash
a melody, tempting the cryptic spirits
to step over the trimmers and chippers
and into the laser grids of square
lights, K2 meters, thermal camera frames,
the obelisk.

The peepings of ghosts have ceased
to ***** me. The proliferation
of paranormal pollsters
are crotchety and terrified,
modeling and grandstanding
the character American,
heirs of TV Kings and monsters,
castle builders, suffocating,
chipping away and abandoning
our very real screaming human
American creature.

with every photograph
i've come to realize
that:
      i barely recognize
    myself...
  in that:
i don't! i can't recognize
myself!
            antithesis of
the Victorian prejudice...
  a photograph doesn't
steal a soul...
          to be frank:
i've been robbed
                   of a memory!
how else will you explain
paranormal
phenomena...
         within the confines
of the anti-matter
Noumenon?
            isn't anti-matter
crucial
in providing an explanation?!
why is, or how are,
the 2st century peoples,
the justified excuse makers?!
it's the 21st century!
a common argument...
so what?!
              the faact that it's the 21st century
us no excuse to market the
past centuries,..
  what is this... ******* Utopia?!
     i'm the sort of people
who says a moon landing never happened...
because it's anti-Pythagorean...
to draw a hypotenuse...
you need to points...
   the vortex of coordinates,
a (0, 0), and a (1, 1)...
                       you would have
landed on the moon,
have you landed on it, twice...
once?
   once, upon once, it can be faked...
you need to land on the ******* thing
twice... before it can can be
solidified...
and agreed upon...
shame...
         the Soviets sent Laika into space...
but the h'Americans sent
the long lost cousin of Darwin...
   Albert Jr...
                  i'm not arguing that
man never managed to land on
the moon,
i'm arguing... he never managed
to land on it the second time...
        which is slightly worrying...
i can give you: landing on it the first...
but the fact that it didn't
for a revisionist second?
slightly worrying...
  in the least...
a photograph steals a memory...
come to "think" of it...
why would a photograph steal
a soul, and not a memory?
and why would the first
moon landing be a success...
while Apollo 13 be a failure?
            this is no conspiracy theory...
but it's somehow odd...
  first come first served
success story...
               i'm not denying
the first moon landing...
             i'm denying...
what am i denying?!
can't remember...
             flat earth? sure...
esp. when and only when
you are reading a map and navigating...
car... across the European continent...
esp. across the Rhine...
      what  could Narcissus
say, comparing a mirror to
a photograph?!
oh sure... we landed on the moon...
but why didn't we land on it
the second time round?
   you know why there is a conspiracy
theory surrounding
the moon landing?
    the Pythagorean principle
of a vector...
      (0, 0) - (1, 1) -
               the only source of proof,
is to prove it a second time...
the fact that there was no second
moon landing...
oh i believe the first moon landing
was a Las Vegas fluke...
       but the fact that no second
moon landing ever happened?
denies the prospect of
the first moon landing ever happening...
with an X...
    there's no Y... to market a Z
away from conspiracy...
   i can't deny the moon landing...
but with the advanced technology...
prior to the moon... Mars...

             such crude instruments
back in the 1960s...
      oh... the moon landing happened,
even if it didn't happen...
but why didn't it happen
a second time around?

  considering the fact...
the science requires at least two
examples of the same proof,
before it can be considered
unshakeable dogma...
  
   it's not a conspiracy theory...
if we are to be puritanically scientific
about, "things"...
there needs to be a second
moon landing for the first
moon landing to be agreed upon...
after all...
isn't science the rite of passage of
trial & error?

  no?
     first and sole attempt and all
is true?
   last time i heard...
that's not how science works...
then again:
i must be wrong...
             guess science is becoming
very much akin to religion...
how can you keep an article of faith,
akin to the moon landing...
with only... one... moon landing?!
- and subsequently
call it... a science?!
  
          i thought science required
a comparison litany?!
no?!
      might as well aim at:
the moon landing never happened...
the basic workings of science
is coordinates,
within the confines of a vector...
1 = it happened
0 - it didn't happen...

   prove it!
two words... prove it!
replicate a second moon landing!
i'll believe there ever was a moon
landing... if there is a second one!

MY GRANNY IS HAYLEY FROM THE BRATAYLEY YOUTUBE SITE

YOU SEE, IVY GIMBERT WHO WAS MY GRANNY, LEFT HER LIFE

IN JANUARY 2004, WHEN I WAS SICK, AND RE ENTERED THE WORLD

AS ANNA IN BRATAYLEY, YOU SEE WHAT MY GRAN IS HOPING

TO ACHIEVE, IS HER GRANDSONS ALL OVER AUSTRALIA

WILL WATCH HER VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE, YOU SEE YOUTUBE STARTED

IN 2004, AND BUDDHA MADE IVY ANNA BECAUSE, THIS IS A WAY

TO REFORM MY EVIL JINGLES LIKE OOPS PLEASE KIDNAP CHRIS

YA KNOW TAKE HIM HOSTAGE TIE HIM UP AND, ANOTHER THING TOO

BUDDHA, WANTED FOR MY GRAN TO BE A HIT IN CYBER SPACE

SO GRAN AND NAN, CAN BE TWO INTERNET SENSATIONS, YOU

SEE NAN IS JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, GRAN IS ANNE, AND ANNE

IS THE OLDEST SISTER, I AM SURE, GRAN IS TRYING TO SHOW

HOW SHE ACTUALLY WAS, BECAUSE, A LOT OF PEOPLE REMEMBER

HER BRI URN, AND ME TRYING TO SHOWSHE IS LIKE  LIKE THE BIG KIDS, BUT BUDDHA REALLY

THOUGHT, IT’LL BE HEAPS BETTER TO PUT IVY INTO ANOTHER GIRL

YEAH, THIS WILL BE FUN SAID IVY, AND IVY WAS PLAYING AROUND IN CYBER SPACE

WITH NAN AND GRAN, AND THEY STARTED UP THESE CLUBS UP IS SPACE

WHERE I CAN PLAY AND HAVE FUN, YOU SEE GRAN IS A BIT DIFFERENT AS SHE

IS GOOFING AROUND AND NAN, IS A 14 YEAR OLD SINGER, SHOWING OFF HER

CREATIVITY WITH THE GUITAR, THROUGH JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, AND, AT PRESENT

HAYLEY IS ENJOYING BEING THE CENTRE OF ATTENTION WITH HER SISTER ANNIE,WHO IS GRAN

AND BROTHER CALEB WHO IS PETER SARGENT, A FORMER KEANE PLACE KID WHO KILLED HIMSELF

WHO DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT, AND THESE 3 KIDS ARE KNOWN AS THE BRATS, WHILE JOHN

ROBERT RIMEL IS WORKING ON BEING A MUSICIAN, AND THE REASON WHY I KNOW THIS IS

BRIAN ALLAN IN CANBERRA IS CRONUS, AND WATCHES EVERY LIFE, GO FROM DEATH OF LAST LIFE

TO BIRTH OF NEW LIFE, CURRENTLY I AM KEEPING OUR FAMILY TOGETHER, THROUGH BUDDHISM

YA SEE, I HAVE A SPECIAL GIFT, OF BEING THERE IN PREVIOUS LIVES, MY VOICES ARE THE AFTERLIFE

I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I AM CRONUS, DUDES, AND IN 2003 I WAS SICK, WHEN I WISHED GRAN DEAD, I DIDN’T MEAN TO

BUT I CAN ASSURE YOU, BUDDHA TOOK CRONUS OFF ME, SO I CAN THINK ABOUT MY SPECIAL GIFT OF LIFE

BUT I MUST BE CAREFUL, THE INTERNET AND SOCIAL MEDIA, ARE THE BEST WAYS OF GETTING YOUR STORY OUT

MY GRAN IS ANNE FROM BRATAYLEY NAN IS JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, DAD IS ELIZABETH CAMPBELL,

MARK JONES IS SUPERSONIC 3 YEAR OLD LIAM, AND THERE ARE HEAPS MORE TO NAME

MY GRAN REALLY ENJOYS BEING HAYLEY, YA SEE IT’S HER FAVOURITE

THE PARTY IN THE AFTERLIFE, WITH IVY GIMBERT, MAKING THE WIGS AN IN THING, AND A CHEAP WAY

FOR BRIAN TO BE CREATIVE, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BRIAN’S TAPESTRIES

AND IVY’S NEXT LIFE ANNE'S FAMILY HAD A PINK HAIR WIG, JUST LIKE MY SUSIE WIG

AND MY GRANDMA WHEN SHE SAYS BRIAN’S LIKE US, COULD SHE MEANS ONE OF THE CREATIVE FAMILIES

I AM PARANORMAL, I CAN’T HELP IT’S A BELIEF

Hush child let me tell you a tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

There once was a girl
Who believed in the paranormal
And would turn at the slightest sounds in a whirl.

Hush child and listen to my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

She would always turn on a light
To illuminate what lay in the shadows
When she went about in the night.

Hush child and devour my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

Living alone was she
When the darkness sought her out
And attempted to corrupt her psyche.

Hush child, now listen closely to this tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

As she left the door to her room
She froze where she stood
As she gazed upon her doom.

Hush child, pay attention to my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

There stood a man in a top hat
Across the hall
He seemed ready for combat.

Hush child, do you hear the truth in my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed?

The man stood across from her
Staring and nothing more
But his dark silhouette was a blur.

Hush child, hear now this tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

As they stood there
Watching one another
The girl felt a flair

Hush child, accept my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

The girl took a step back
Closing her door
With a resounding SMACK!

Hush child, for this is my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

The girl was frozen and feeling insecure
Staring at the back of her door
For what she felt was simple and pure.

Hush child, it’s almost over, this tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

The man in the top hat
Across the hall
Radiated evil, pure and simple as that.

Hush child, the end is near of this tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

She stood staring at the door in her room
Never wanting to leave again
For fear of having an early tomb.

Hush child, give ears to this tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

There once was a girl
Who believed in the paranormal
And would turn at the slightest sounds in a whirl.

Hush child, just listen to the tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

She would always turn on a light
To illuminate what lay in the shadows
When she went about in the night.

Hush child, this ends my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed.

She lives in fear of the ghost
For she knows he will return
When she thinks she is safe the most.

Hush child, do you believe my tale
Of a ghost and a girl
When darkness assailed?

Everyone leaves, you hear people say it but do you really understand it?
Everyone that is in your life will go away
I am fifteen years old and I know this
I find that depressing
As a teenager you're supposed to be crazy and fall in love
And have the ability to believe in miracles and happily ever after
Well I don't
I am a teenager who understands that love is temporary
Don't trick yourself into believing in forever because forever will end
You think he will stay just because he promised he would
Well promises are just words
I was foolish enough to believe in words until I realized that everyone is full of ****
I am fifteen years old and I am done believing
Believing that you will end up with the prince
Because I know the prince will just ***** you over
Promises turn into lies, hello turns to goodbye
And love, well it dies
What do you do when you give everything to love
And love comes around and destroys you
How can something so beautiful become so ugly
I am fifteen years old I am scared of ghosts and I am scared of love
I am afraid to give my heart to someone because they could break it
They could tear me into a million pieces and destroy everything I am
The boy I love could simply leave just because he feels like it
Love is dangerous
But of course I want love
I want kissing and cuddling and having someone there for me no matter what
I think that is beautiful
What I don't want is the heartbreak because he changed his mind
I don't need more sleepless nights and I sure as hell don't  need more pain
I need love, everyone does but I can't have love
Because I am afraid and fear is a powerful thing
I am afraid of ghosts so I don't watch scary movies, and I stay away from all things paranormal
I am afraid of love, so I don't let my feelings control me and I push people away because there's always a chance something could happen
Something beautiful and perfect like those red roses on Valentines Day
But the roses die,
There colors change from red to black
The beautiful perfect things turn into your worst nightmares
Love turns to hate and your happy ending slowly fades
I am fifteen years old and I am terrified of love

robots helping us



you see it’s been a wanted thing for generations

but i saw on TV  that they have already built robots

to help the elderly, ya know, by getting them a drink, so to speak

there are many things robots can do around your home

i am a messy dude too, and i have cleaners cleaning my house

but robots can do a lot more, than w2hat your think they can do

well, robots in the kitchen helping the elderly

the sky’s the limit, how about robots to clean the mentally ill persons house

yeah, it could help, we are still in the planning stages

but it’s good that they are still bringing robots for help around the house

everyone wants that, but it’s not as easy as live in with a robot helping you

a robot can turn itself into a computer, to allow you to watch stuff on youtube

and get educated, i am feeding my stuff on youtube, for the future robots

can see me as a cool figure or authority figure

computers should stop violence, if your video contains violence, youtube should rid that

not my content, get over it copyright people, violence is much much worst

there is nothing wrong wit parties, as long as they ain’t violent

this robot can help get rid of violence in cyber space, if more can get it

think about it, Robots can get your housework done while your out

you program it, to what you want him to pick up, it’ll be pretty ****** rad dudes

that little robot vacuum, is to small, but you can get this world full of robots by the year 3000

if everyone can tell their story, ya see, everyone is different, not everyone knows much about what robots should do, yet

not everyone agrees with my work, but, think about it, the robot can be programmed to pick up your *******

and take it to the curve, always understanding, how to sort out the ******* yeah

i would love a robot to help me, like everyone, will love a robot to help them

robots can make you love life more easier, i love life now, but robots can ease my cleaning woes

these words say, robots need people to help and understand people, by physically helping them

as opposed to hearing it’s not good to help them

that is whjy i am interested in gungahlin’s common ground, to cook for them, learn from them

so the year 3000, can create a perfect robotic world

when ya think of people robots, don’t think get someone off their *****

no, no no you have to feed the internet all your stuff, ok, even paranormal

cause the internet is interested, no matter

don’t worry about how many views, think of the future with robots

and believe in reincarnation, buddhist style, every blade of grass

got a thought, tell the internet, or the computer word document

CATCH YA LATER DUDES

I will admit
to overdosing them
with sweet beguiling
slippery softener
‘till dead at my feet
they can rise
no more.

Yet they cling to me
as they can
with a ghastly
screaming need
for me to pull
them up.

Yes, once
I had a pair of normal socks.

Beneath a sheet

she moaned

RATTLING her CHAINS

and screaming.

hi dudes


i was just watching neighbours and i think paul robinson is going soft

because he is being really nice to his latest daughter and her son

and ya know what i think, i think that my dead dads spirit is helping in the

process of reforming paul robinson, i don’t know how long it’ll last

but it’s good to know that people can change, i am actually enjoying neighbours

lately, because paul robinson is actually trying to be closer to family and not

worrying about money, you see my dad gave me an iPad and a apple MAC

i know dad can be a tad cranky, but he does it over love, and i think it’s cool

to see this, i referred to paul robinson as a real big rich ****, but i think dads spirit

is trying to make paul robinmson a real family man, i hear horrible voices saying

dads not around anymore, but i can say, i believe in the paranormal, and anyone who

hates the paranormal isn’t the right people for me, i think it’s good paul robinson from neighbours

is connecting with his grandson jimmy and he is trying to connect with amy as well, i am sure

this could change, it’s just that i really am enjoying neighbours

you see dad taught me a lot about being safe on social media and i know paul robinson isn’t like dad

no everyone has different qualities, i said dad was like becker, as well, but that was when we were growing up

i don’t have to say i am artist, because i am artist

i don’t have to say i am a writer, cause i am a writer

i don’t have to say i am a youtube entertainer, cause i am a youtube entertainer

i don’t have to say anything, just do my writing and art and not worry about what the cool kids a doing

because i can’t understand why people want me to do what i used to do

all i can say is dads spirit is flying over paul robinson trying to take the rich ***** out of him

i believe in the paranormal, anyone who doesn’t, ain’t the people for me

DING **** MY KIDNAPPER IS DEAD, THAT IS WHY I ALLOWED TED BUNDY

TO TAKE ME YEAH, I WANTED TO KIDNAP MY KIDNAPPER

HOPING THE SPIRIT WORLD CAN **** MY KIDNAPPER, OH YEAH

I KNOW IT’S ****** HARD, CAUSE, THE SCHITZOPHRENIA, WAS GIVING ME THE ****** YRGE

I FOUND IT HARD TO RID THE URGE, SO I MADE TED BUNDY’S GHOST TIE ME UP

BUT THIS MADE ME FIGHT MY FATHER, AND FORCE ME ON MEDICATION

WHICH MADE THE NICEST MAN, BUT MY KIDNAPPER KEPT COMING BACK

DING **** I WANTED MY KIDNAPPER DEAD, I KNOW I ANNOYED A LOT OF PEOPLE

TRYING TO GRAB THEM OH YEAH

I GRABBED A FEW SCHOOL MATES, AND THAT IS WHY I WAS TREATED LIKE A YEAH MATE YEAH KID

I WANT TO GET REOFORMED, BUT A VOICE SAID, NO YOUR NOR REFORMED

AND I WORKED AT THE RAINBOW, HELPING THE MENTALLY ILL

AND I FELT LIKE A HAPPY CHIRPY COOL KID GOING TO THE BEACH AND BUSHWALKING

AND WORKING IN THE RAINBOW KITCHEN, AND NOBODY WANTED TO TEASE ME

CAUSE I HELPED TO GIVE THEM A MEAL, I WAS A COOL KID, AND VERY VERY CHIRPY

AND THEN IN 2002, I FELT REALLY CRAZY, THE PARANORMAL SHOVING VOICES IN MY HEAD

WHICH WAS, I WAS THE KID, KILLED BY THE ******, THE AMERICAN ****** KILLED A KID

BUT I SAID I DREAMT IN THE REAL WORLD, SAYING THE KID HE KILLED WAS ME

I STOOD MY LITTLE KIDNAPPING KID, OUT ON THE LONESOME, THE ****** KILLED MY CRAZY KIDNAPPER

I AM NOT GAY, I RESPECT GAYS, BUT I AM NOT GAY

I AM NOT A PHEDAPHILE, HAVING *** WITH KIDS IS REPULSIVE

I AM NOT A CUDDLING KOOMARRI MAN, CAUSE THEY GET KILLED, I LIKE TO SAY THAT AT LEAST GAYS, HAVE A REASON

THE KOOMARRIS, ARE TOTALLY GEEKY, AS THEY CUDDLE UP TO YA

I AM NOT GAY, HE SAID, I JUST LIKE TO CUDDLE MEN, NOT THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG WITH GAYS

I AM NOT GAY, I MADE MY CHOICE, TO BE A ******

LIKE A ******, WHO PARTIES ALL THE FUCKEN TIME, LIKE A ****** BABY YEAH

PARTY WITH ME, AND YOU AS WELL YO DUDE

BUT TED BUNDY, ISN’T HASSLING ME NO MORE, I AGREED TO **** MY HOOLIGAN WHO GRABS KIDS

AND IN JUP[ITER, I AM PREPARED TO SUFFER, FOR EVERY KID, AS CRONUS DOES DO

TED BUNDY NOW HAS ME ******* TO THE LAMP POST ON JUPITER

I PREFER THIS, RATHER THAN CUDDLING ******* KOOMARRI MEN

PRESUMING THAT I AM GAY, I AM STRAIGHT, MY PROBLEMS WERE WATCHING REALLY BAD KIDNAPPING ON TV

AND MY LAST TWO LIVES KIDNAPPED AND KILLED AT AGE 8 GREAME THORNE ANDS PATRICK DUNBAR

I HAVE KILLED MY KIDNAPPER AND LEFT MY LITTLE DADDY’S SHY BOY WITH DAD, ON CLOUD 9

SO I CAN ENJOY BATTLING THE YOU AND YOUR BROTHER AREN’T LIKE US VOICE

BY DRINKING A BOTTLE OF COKE, I AM A COMPUTER **** KID

I WANT TO LOSE PAT’S VOICE, BUT WE HAD FUN TOGETHER

I WANT TO LOSE HIS VOICE, BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THESE DELLUSIONS

OF HIM BEING A TEASING GAY MAN, CAUSE YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL TO TEASE NORMIES

THE WAY I USED TO TEASE THE MEN, WHETHER YOUR GAY OR NOT

PEOPLE PRESUME THAT YOUR GAY, AND PUNCH AND **** YOU

BULLYING LEADS TO KILLING, BRIAN ALLAN DOESN’T WANT TO BE KILLED

SO HE PREFERS TO GET RID OF HIS SHY BOY THE BRIAN ALLAN WAY

CAUSE I HATE, THE IDEA IN HINDSIGHT OF BEING A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE LIKE THAT

IT WAS ALRIGHT WHEN I WAS YOUNG, WELL CRAWLING THROUGH DRAINPIPES

AND RIDING OUR BIKES, AND PARTYING IN CLUBS WAS COOL

BUT THE KIDNAPPING OR THE GAY ACTIVITY, REALLY AIN’T FOR ME

I AM STILL DOING WHAT I USED TO DO, THE IMAGINATION BIT

ART AND DRAWING, I WANT TO KIL MY KIDNAPPER AND HAVE TED BUNDY TIE HIM UP ON JUPITER

AQND LEAVE MY DADDY’S LITTLE SHY BOY AS I SAID ON CLOUD 9 WITH DAD

WE HAVE TO STAND ON OUR OWN TWO FEET

OH YEAH MY, HEART IS A PUMPING, AND MY LEGS ARE FIT

I WANNA STAND ON MY OWN TWO FEET

I DON’T CARE WHAT MY VOICES SAY

I PREFER FOR MY VOICES TO SAY BE AN ARTIST, BE A WRITER, BE A YOUTUBE PARTNER, BE A BUDDHIST

I DON’T WANT TO HAVE ANY PART OF MY DADDY’S LITTLE SHY BOY IN ME, EVER AGAIN

MEDICATION, REINCARNATION, I AM COOL, HOW ABOUT A LITTLE CELEBRATION

STOP THE CALLING ME WOOSEY, IN MY HEAD, CAUSE, IT’S FUCKEN DOWNGRADING YOU BIG *******

I FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND GAYS, DOESN’T MEAN I HATE THEM, I HATE BEING TOLD I AM STILL GAY

******* ****, *******, I AM NOT GAY

DING **** MY KIDNAPPER IS DEAD AND MY LITTLE SHY BOY IS UP THERE WITH DEAR OLD DAD

I AM A MAN WHO ENJOYS PARTYING, YEAH MATE YEAH, I AM NO ****

Spiders.

Snakes.

Late nights, due to the fact that once I saw a possum in our garage when it was dark out.

Good looking people not thinking I'm good looking.

Holding children. I might drop them.

My brothers growing up to be just like me.

Shark attacks.

Jumping off high places.

Headphones that go too deep into my ears.

Going the opposite direction of so many cars. I'm the only one going my way.  They're probably headed the right way. They're probably having more fun.

Realizing that, after being on the road for a while, my high beams have been on the whole time. Sorry.

Cockroaches.

Family reunions where I'm not sure if that really attractive girl is my family or someone's friend.

Climbing up the stairs of the Bombay ride at Wet N' Wild because there just slabs of stone I can see under. I could slip and fall right through.

Enjoying bad bands.

Letting my girlfriend look into my eyes.

Talking on the phone.

Growing up.

Refusing to grow up.

Reading this over if I ever finish it and realizing that I am something less than a regular human being.  Probably an animal of some kind.

Frogs.

Big animals.

Waking up one day as the same person I always have been.

Standing still.

My parents.

Not spending the rest of my life with the girl I swore I would.

Texting people too often.

My parents dying.

Whales.

My teeth being this awful the rest of my life.

Braces.

Making people think they offended me.  People never offend me.

Writing anything that's ever as good as Ernest Hemingway.  How dare I think that I ever could.

Running too hard.  My heart might burst.

Being unreasonable. Am I unreasonable?

Sticking my finger inside an air conditioning vent in a car.  I don't know if there's a fan in there.  I don't know if it'll take my finger off.

Getting people's hopes up.

Letting people down.

Fish.

Bees.

Being a teacher.

My laugh.

Wearing bad clothes.

Holding her hand too hard.  I might cut off circulation.  She might get mad.

My brother disapproving of what I do.

Heaven because it sounds awful doing the same thing for the rest of forever.

Finding out I've been gay this whole time.

Cracking my fingers.

Being a parent.

Whales.

Final exams.

Paranormal Activity 4.

Singing on cue.

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

Eating insects.

Whales.

Silence.

The open ocean.

Whales.

Whales.

A chance meeting we had
A secret all our own
Most others would consider mad

Forbidden meeting
Stolen kisses
Two hearts together beating

From the first embrace
I knew this would be like no other
Forever wish to look upon your face

world out of controll they soon spun
Upside down and colided together
And a new one begun

Attempting to make a new normal
All the while feeling scared
Excited anxious and somewhat paranormal

Ups and downs we will face
But we will find safety and happiness
In each others sacred embrace

I will brave all obsticales
That are thrown in our path
Beacause never have I felt this before
All my love you hath

Being normal is so overrated
Everyone's in pain everyone is jaded
The realm of creativity
Is the place to be
Flowing and feeling the energy
Dispense your sixth sense
Onto humanity
If your third eye is blind
You have to open your mind
To the channels we have inside
That connect with the universe and combine
Our thoughts and our words into something divine
I promise normalcy is a sickness
Do you feel your aura?
If there's a thickness
Then you need to clean it out
Speak with a whisper, there's no need to shout
It clogs your soul
And you need to know
How to let go
Of whats not really you
Deprogram yourself, become brand new
Wipe off what society has done  
Face your problems, don't just run
Step out of the shadows and into the sun
Feel yourself and close your eyes
Feel your energy and become more wise
Free yourself for just a moment of your time
Just sit still, stop trying to climb
This present moment is all that is real
No past, no future, no time, no wheel
When I say everything is an illusion it's not an exaggeration
We create what we want with our imagination
If that's the truth, what reality are you making
Are you being true to yourself or are you just faking
The paranormal is more real than what we see
Not believing institutional lies is the key
Be true to who you are
Show off your love and show off your scars
Your clothes are worthless and so are your cars
The realest you is made of pure light
And it flickers and dims when you're trying to fight
No need to resist
Put down your fist
Open yourself to what's all around
Pull yourself up off the ground
Nothing is against you but your own self
Become the books on the library shelf
Full of perspective, depth, and knowledge
Don't be programmed by a government run college
Think for yourself and don't stop growing
Expand as big as the galaxy and don't stop flowing
You're the micro of the macro, which is the universe
Save the world, but take care of you first
You can't save anything when you're drowning in doubt
Your soul knows something is wrong that's why it's trying to shout
It's telling you that what you're doing needs change
Don't you realize you're feeling a little bit strange?
Take accountability for your co-creation
What you're seeing right now is of your own manifestation
You're not a victim, you're actually in charge
If you don't like how you're feeling then open your arms
Give yourself a hug and stop all the hate
Love is always the answer, it's not a debate
Love yourself, the world, and everything around
528 hertz is the life changing sound
The vibration which is the frequency of love
Feel it, embody it, wear it like a glove
Magic happens when you're totally in tune
Come sit with me beneath the moon
We will make a new intention and set it in motion
Make waves of change in this consciousness ocean
Find love within and stay unique
This society wants to mold you and make you weak
Protest them by knowing your soul
That's the most potent power you'll ever hold

you see before i moved to canberra i moved to woodberry, woodberry, a place where

if you have a mental illness you are declared CRAZY, you see i was hearing voices

when my brother was joking around with me, the voices were saying, your a **** and your crazy

you don’t belong in this world, i know i belong in this world, i love life so much, but all the time

i was hearing voices saying you are a yeah mate yeah kid buddy, ya know a nerd, and you don’t belong

anywhere on earth, it was a crazy country town, you see i remember getting a taxi to school, getting bullied

in the taxi, which made the voices go completely crazy, dad kept on saying don’t be shy brian, i never liked that

but in hindsight, he was trying to get me to have fun, you see i used to in sort of a way never telling lies

oh well, that all changed when i moved to canberra, but i needed a way to calm the voices, of we don’t like you

you don’t belong in this world, i know i belong in this world, i am a lover of life, you see i remember hearing that

same bully say to my brother kidnap yourself buddy, cause you realise you are from that family, he just wished

i was aware, but all my life i have been hearing voices, maybe it was me pooling my pants, i don’t do that anymore

you see, what i don’t understand, why can’t people respect me when i say i am a nice guy, and that is what lately people can’t

respect that i wanna move on, i have had more teasing than anyone, i need a break, but as soon as i moved to canberra

the voices left my head, but when they gave me wee and locked me in the storeroom, oh well, the voices started up again

and every time i got teased by anyone, a voice came into my head saying, i might kidnap in a minute, i remember a voice saying

i am going to bash you up, i hated every negative voice that cam into my head, my mum and dad liked how i never told lies but

i needed to get on with my brother, so i played with him, but what i didn’t understand was dad was suffering with my constant yelling

and he probably went to his grave thinking what he was doing back then was wrong for me, i am reformed now, and i am on medication

there are voices in my head saying, take brian’s pension away from him he’s not like me, i said as a joke, and give me superannuation

but i at that stage, very much of a ******, i hate this other voice saying, you are the only one who is getting hassled, i never hassled

anyone like these voices are hassling me, i understand paul berenyi if he is dead hassling, because i was staring at him, i used to stare

at everyone, but i am trying to get reformed, i used to stare at my family as well, and that is why dad lost his cool, saying i don’t want to be cool, how weird is that

you see, i hated being treated like a man to a tease, because it was ******* me, i was starting to think that these voices were just voices, but outside the

charnwood inn some dude grabbed me, i struggled and ran up the stairs, you see when daniel pederson died he got inside my head to make me a big man

too uncoil for his family, but i don’t really like being a big man or a big young dude or a big kid or a different person, you see when i was at school i said

i was different, but that was just school talk, it’s hard being treated like a different person, like tonight, i was walking over to the sink to do the washing up

and i felt fatigued and i felt fatigued when i bought the garbage out and the voices were saying, you are easy to tease, i don’t want to be easy meat

i want to reform my brain enough, you see there is a movie group i went to as well as a writing group but i can’t socialise because of the buses and

my blasted voices, there was this other voice saying as i said, i want to be normal, the voice would say be like us then, i don’t want to be treated like my brother anymore

i am like one person and that is brian allan,

Performing on Saturn

Hi dudes and dudettes
Welcome to Saturn club rings and today we are playing poems and songs that will make you feel really cool
The first song is the west coast eagles victory song
We are the eagles
The west coast eagles
We are the ones who won that game
You see we have the power
To win the big game
Go the eagles who are one win away
You see with the eagles
The west coast eagles
Yes we are powerful
End tonight we will be in the club
To sink down a few cleansing ales

Yes that was a cool song and now here is our second song which is called hey dude what are you on about
You see when I was a partying
In the cold of this city
I see people trying to get me in
To their little gang oh yeah
I told them I didn’t wanna be in their gang but they said you are joining us oh yeah
I tried to wriggle out of it
It isn’t what I am into, no
Because I am into partying in a different way
Then these thugs came up to me
And said these little words
Hey dude, what are you on about
Then I went to the football club
To watch the very important match yes that makes me feel so divine
And my dad said yes your majesty when I told him what to do is was as if I didn’t know what to do
You see back then when I was a hooligan a ***** rotten hooligan
I found it hard to think what the **** was going on
Then these dudes said to me
Hey dude what is going on
Partying in the club is cool
And they really break no flaming rule you see god isn’t up there anymore because the bible was absolute ******* when they tell you everything that is in it
Hey dude what is going on

Thank you and that was a great song and our next song is yes your majesty
You see when I was young I told my family to say what I wanted them to say
Like you say heavy metal is cool
You say Martin Luther king had a dream
You say who is going to win the footy
You say you say you say
Dad goes yes your majesty in a very posh way
Yes your majesty after I say you say
Yes it is cool in many ways
Dad goes yes your majesty
Every fucken day
After I say you say
I told him, no I am not the queen
And I am no king either
I just want you to say
That I am the best
Just say west coast are the best well, dad just said yes your majesty yes you flaming majesty after I say you say
Yes your majesty every single day

That was a good song and now it is time to party with me
We drink taquila and bourbon yeah
We drink beer and wine for you
We get high on mariguana as well as *******
Yes it is time to party oh yeah we say
You say party time is here
Yes your majesty
You say get down and boogie
Yes your majesty
You see you can see me in my party clothes
Yes and my nanna is having a doze
Drinking beer to past time
I say fun you say cool
Yes your majesty I say what I want
I am a tool and a ****
Who loved life every day
Party party party mate
Party with a how’s it going mate
Get down with a bit of methane
Yeah mate yeah time to play

What a song and now here is winning the final

It is mighty hard to win a final
Especially when both teams want to be there
And the crowd yell out forever
Yeah mate yeah
When I get up this morning.
I will watch the Canberra afl grand final
Who the ******* will win
Well it will be close and it will be fun
How many people will turn up
It will be hard for both teams
Cause winning this grand final
Is what each team wants to do
Gets out there to score a goal
Goal goal a pretty good goal
And west coast are one win away of a grand final after coming back on Collingwood
With the McGuire family cheering on the pies but when west coast won yippee I ay
It was a shame that the swans are no more this year but Sydney still has a representative
There let’s hope they win
Go the demons beat the hawks
Don’t move don’t you dare squawk it will be hard oh hard to win that match so just get your ticket yes mate, clear the pickets welcome to Australia Britain or France going to this party in just my underpants
And you feel pretty cool as your favourite team wins the all important final oh yeah

Goodbye, time to go must get up to watch the Canberra afl
Go ainslie

I keep waking up at different times during the night and seeing the aura of your ghost laying beside me - I never want to go back to sleep, but your soft voice soothes me so malignantly I cant help but fall into a dream where my only wish is to be with you

you see in 2011 and 2012,, in around the time my cat lucky died, and my mate was getting

angry with his family, and told me that he hated to be my friend, and i remember that Scott

Mcdonald hated me mucking around the mall, and he died, and came back as lucky the cat

where he was having fun getting cranky with us, sometimes when we picked him up, and when

it rained, lucky would blame  dad for it, but scott was getting sick and tired of this, and created

voices from everyone that ****** me off, coming from people who didn’t, and my mate was slowly

turning off me, probably, scott/lucky’s spirit flying above, you see scott mcdonald owns pluto, in which

we call the love planet now, and from the love planet, scott sent voices into my head making my friend

say, i don’t want to be your friend anymore, don’t ring me, and also, scott mcdonald got into my head

trying to make me not understand my parents, which caused me to fight my parents, over silly things

and all because i was writing **** out of me, and when i went to adelaide in 2012, scott made my friend

not want to talk to me, this drove me nuts, and scott, said, i will **** lucky to make brian’s dad sane again

seeing lucky was in our family for brian,, which was a spiritual quest to see if brian can be calmed by animals

and scott, since i killed muscles due to mental illness, scott has been putting images into brian’s head

like turning lucky into a big cheetah or a big moo cow, and dad never understood, you see in 2013, my voices

at work became bad because lucky had died and scott needed to help me find him, and there was a pregnant girl

in the psych ward with me, who was carrying scott mcdonalds next life, cause i was doing what i did in 2004

and i did what i did, and scott used patricks voice kicking the girl, ya know like a baby does, saying let me out

let me out, brian is trying to be like me and this made the young lady feel weird, but she knew it was bnormal

and you see, as i get up, i hear voices all around saying, your shy brian, shut up woosey and the reason why i say

it was scott/lucky’s ghost because my friend didn’t hate, and also, scott put tabs on my phone, making it ring every

5 minutes making me write tickle tickle tim tum which got recorded on the telephone answer, and now, i can only

make calls, and not receive calls, because scott made andrew jarvis ring me up every day, and dad put a stop to that

with a bit of science from the third realm and while all this body problems, dad is on cloud 9, nursing lucky

saying, you can go off to the love planets, i have no idea if that lady’s baby survived or not, but buddha doesn’t want me to know that

but for dad, buddha wanted me to follow dads next life in instagram, saying, you know, nobody else

because, buddha said, we need to have your fathers next life protected, and you must never know who lucky is

unless fate brings you to him, you see the voices were really making me worked up, because i was keeping fit, 2004 and 2013

and the psych ward off i go, and instead of inning i do a brisk walk, which will keep me fit, you see as i write, i hear the negative me

from the 1990s calling out to me, GET ****** BRIAN, you are a little shy boy now brian, and many other things, like the time

i threw a spider on mum, she jumped, and i remember dad had a little laugh about that, with me, i remember i was swimming in the

pool, and mum squirted the fucken hose on me, because i was too fucken too noisy and i remember lucky being stuck up the trees

for a couple of days and scott’s spirit who was in lucky, previous life, ya know, well scott was getting sick of having his earth body with me, because

of my negativity because i was fat and i think scott mcdonald’s soul is in the young woman, if he or she survived

THE REASON FOR THE CHEMICAL LEAKAGE



YOU SEE 6 ASTRONAUGHTS, WERE FORCED TO TAKE SHELTER IN THE RUSSIAN

SEGMENT OF THE SHUTTLE, BECAUSE THE DEAD TERRORISTS HAS THEM TRAPPED

SAYING, TO THEM, I AM GOING TO MAKE THIS SHUTTLE LEAK, I AM GOING TO CAUSE

PROBLEMS, SO YOU WILL NEVER FIND THE TRUTH, OF WHAT IS GOING ON UP HERE

TILL THE DAY YOU, DIE, AND THE TERRORISTS ARE FLYING AROUND THE SPACE SHUTLLE

SAY SPILL IT OVER, SPILL IT OVER, AND THEN GOT THEIR WAY INTO THE HEADS OF THE

ASTRONAUGHTS, SAYING, WE ARE GOING TO MAKE IT HARDER TO FIND LIFE UP HERE,

CAUSE, IF YOU ARE A COSMIC SLEEPER LIKE ME, YOU CAN FIND LIFE, BUT, THE TERRORISTS

TIED BRIAN ALLAN UP, AND ARE WILLING TO **,D HIM CAPTIVE FOR YEARS AND YEARS, BUT

AS THE ASTRONAGHTS ARE REALLY DOING IT TOUGH, CAUSE, THIS IS THEIR EARTH LIVELIHOOD

BUT AS THE TERRORISTS ARE HOLDING THE SPACE SHUTTLE, THEY ARE ALL YELLING HEH HEH HEH HEH

YOU ARE ALL DOOMED, YOU ARE ALL DOOMED, WE WILL KEEP YOU WILL BE WITH US, FOREVER

AND THEY GRABBED THE RUSSIAN AND RUSSIAN AND AMERICAN ASTRONAUGHT, AND SAID, COME WITH ME

AND AS THEY CAME CLOSER, THEY SAW BRIAN ALLAN *******, UNDER A HUGE TRAP, WITH PAUL BERENYI, YOU

SEE, THIS IS A TRAP, THAT THE TERRORISTS ARE PUTTING ON THE INNOCENT COSMIC DEAD PEOPLE, YOU SEE

BRIAN ALLAN SAID, TAKE ME, LET THE ASTRONAUGHTS GO, AND THE TERRORISTS SAID, FINE, BUT WE DON’T

WANT TO LET THESE PEOPLE GO, WITHOUT A PROBLEM, CAUSE YOU SEE, BRIAN ALLAN, YOU HAVE PAY TV

AND YOU WILL BE TRAPPED, BY US TERRORIST FOREVER, THE ATSRONAUGHTS, WERE, UNLEASHED A BIG PUFF OF

A GAS LEAKAGE, WHICH WAS CAUSED BY THE TERRORISTS, SAYING DEATH DOESN’T STOP THEM, ACTUALLY DEATH

MAKES IT ALL WORST, BECAUSE, WE CAN’T HOLD THEM BACK, AND THE TERRORIST WANTED BRIAN ALLAN, MAINLY BECAUSE

HIM AS CRONUS, TRIED TO GET IN THE MIND OF ALQUEDA, TO GET THEM TO ACCEPT RESPONSIBLITY, AND THE TERROSISTS

ARE NOW GOT BRIAN ALLAN’S KID, AND KEEPING HIM *******, AND THEN THE TERRORISTS ARE PLANNING TO MAKE HIS COSMIC

EVERGY REALLY SUFFER, AND I MEAN REALLY SUFFER, YOU SEE, THE CHEMICALS THAT CAUSED THE LEAKAGE, ON THE SPACE SHIP

WAS TOO MANY METHANE SMMOTHIES, WHICH, THE TERRORISTS ARE TRYING TO GET RID OF, LIKE IMPROVING THE QUALITY OF

THEIR LIFE, THE TERRORISTS DON’T WANT TO IMPROVE THE QUALITY OF PEOPLE’S LIVES, AND BRIAN ALLAN AND PAUL BERENYI

ARE REPLACING THE TERRORISTS BEING ******* TO THE SUN, WITH THE TERRORISTS SAYING, HEH HEH HEH , YOU TWO COOL EX WODEN

SCHOOL KIDS, WILL NEVER ESCAPE, NEVER ESCAPE I WILL TELL YA I WILL TELL YA, YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT THE TERRORISTS, NOBODY

CAN DEFEAT THE TERRORISTS, AND THEN THE TERRORISTS, WITH BRIAN ALLAN WHO IS CRONUS ******* WITH PAUL ON THE SUN, THE UNIVERSE

IS NO LONGER SAFE, BUT EVERYONE CAN’T DIE, BUT THEY ALL KNOW IMMORTAL, BUT THEY CAN GET CAUGHT, AND THE TERRORISTS WILL

GIVE THESE EARTHLINGS BAD DREAMS ABOUT BEING CAPTURED, AND AS HE IS ******* TO THE SUN, BRIAN ALLAN WAS REMINDED OF

A BAD DREAM, HE HAD, AS HE WAS BEING KEPT IN THE DARK ABOUT COOL BEHAVIOUR, AS ALL HIS DREAMS, WERE BLOCKED BY KIDNAP, BECAUSE

THE WITCH DOCTOR AND STEVEN BRADLEY, AND NOW THE TERRORISTS ARE AFTER THE KIDS WHO CURRENTLY LIVE IN CANBERRA, AS THEY ARE

LOSING COSMIC POWERS, BY NOT DRINKING COCA COLA, CAUSE THE ADULTS ARE RULING THEIR LIVES, THIS ISN’T LIKE STAR WARS OR STAR TREK,

BUT IT MORE LIKE A BAD EPISODE OF LOST IN SPACE, YOU SEE, THERE IS NO WAY THE TERRORISTS ARE LETTING BRIAN AND PAUL FROM THEIR CLUTCHES

BECAUSE, THESE TERRORISTS ARE FINALLY ABOUT TO GET THEIR WAY IN THE COSMOS, THEY ARE FINALLY  GOING TO GET THEIR WAY.

EVERYONE IS GOING TO BEHAVE IN THE COSMOS, CAUSE, IF THEY DON’T, THE EARTH WILL LOSE LOVED ONES, AND THE TERRORISTS ARE GOING

TO FORCE THE END OF THE WORLD, PLEASE DON’T LAUGH AT THE END OF THE WORLD, THESE TERRORISTS ARE TRAPPING BRIAN AND PAUL TOGETHER

TO SAY YOU 2 GUYS ARE BEING TRAPPED, YOU SEE JACK VIDGEON AND BRIAN ALLAN COSMIC SLEEPER, HAVE TO WATCH THEIR THIRD EYES, BECAUSE

THE END OF THE WORLD WILL COME, IF WE DON’T MEND EVERY BLADE OF GRASS, TO SAVE THE WORLD, BY HELPING THE POOR, AND CALMING THE

EVIL TERRORIST SPIRIT ONCE AND FOR ALL, YOU SEE, THE TERRORISTS TRAPPED THE SPACE STATION, AND TRAPPED JACK VIDGEONS LAST LIFE PAUL BERENYI

AND TRAPPED BRIAN ALLAN, AND NOW, WILL TRAP OTHER GENERATIONS, TO FORCE THE END OF THE WORLD, SOONER RATHER THAN LATER OR NEVER

PLEASE SAVE OUR PLANET, CHECK EVERYTHING, OK, I MEAN CHECK, WE CAN’T CONTROL WHAT THE TERRORISTS DO, THE TERRORIST WAR IS NOW IN THE COSMOS

THE END, OR IS IT

HATE BEING THE ONE THAT HAS TO BEHAVE



YOU SEE, I KNOW MY BROTHER IS ALLOWED TO SAY WHAT HE WANTS

BUT I HAVE TO WATCH WHAT I SAY, SOMETIMES I AM JUST BEING COOL

I HATE PEOPLE TELLING ME I HAVE TO BE GOOD, LIKE MY PERFECT FAMILY

IT’S HARD TO DISCIPLINED TO, JUST BECAUSE, I MUCKED WITH THE OLD FOGIES

I HATE, HOW PEOPLE TREAT ME LIKE A TOTAL AND UTTER LOSER

YOU SEE, WHY DO PEOPLE TRY AND DISCIPLINE ME, I FIND IT HARD

LIKE I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I HATED DADS DISCIPLINE RULE

I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I AM A NICE PERSON

YOU SEE, IF I GOOF UP, I AM TOLD, I HAVE NO MATES ANYMORE

ALL BECAUSE I SAID SOMETHING OUT OF LINE

I KNOW MY BROTHER HAS A WIFE AND KIDS, AND WAS COOL

AND YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE, PEOPLE ONLY LIKING ME

IF I BEHAVE, CAUSE I AM COOL, MAN, THE COOLEST DUDE IN CANBERRA

I HATE WHEN I HEAR THE VOICES BE LIKE US, WHEN I EXPRESS MYSELF OVER THE WEB

YOU SEE, WHY DO I HAVE TO BE NICE, I AM A COOL AND REGULAR GUY

I DESERVE TO BE LIKED, I DON’T WANT TO BE LIKED FOR BEING PATHETIC, NO WAY

I HAD VOICES FROM THE PARANORMAL, YA SEE I AM A NICE COOL PERSON

WHY CAN’T I ENJOY THINGS, JUST BECAUSE I ******* PEOPLE

I FEEL IF I SEE THESE PEOPLE, THEY WILL SAY TO ME, I WAS WRONG

BUT I HATE BEING DISCIPLINED, PLEASE DON’T DISCIPLINE ME

I AM 45, AND I AIN’T COMMITTING ANY CRIMES, I AM STILL SEEING THESE DUDES

I USED TO GET DRUNK WITH, SOME WERE GOOD BLOKES

IT’S JUST THAT BACK THEN, I WASN’T PREPARED FOR OUR OUTINGS

I LIKE FOOTBALL, AND I LIKE GOING OUT HAVING FUN

AND I DON’T WANT TO BE TOLD TO BEHAVE MYSELF I HATED BEING TREATED LIKE A NICE AND POLITE MAN

WHILE MY MATES CAN BE LEFT ALONE, PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE

I HATE THAT MAN KEN, I HAVE TO BEHAVE FOR HIM

I CAN’T STAND BEHAVING FOR ANYONE, BEHAVING IS DUNB AND BEHAVING IS WRONG

I HATE CATHOLIC MORALS, AND I HATE DISCIPLINE, BUT I FEEL ONLY OLD FOGIES HAVE DISCIPLINE MORALS

I TRY AND BE GOOD, WHEN I GO OUT TO EVENTS, BUTB SOMETIMES IT’S HARD TO EXCEPT DISCIPLINE

CAUSE WHY CAN’T I JUST BE ALLOWED TO MAKE A BIT OF NOISE

I AM ON MEDICATION, YA SEE IT’S MY DESTINATION, I WANT TO BE HAPPY, SO I TAKE MEDICATION

I THOUGHT DAD WAS STARTING TO SEE MY WAY OF LIFE, YOU SEE, I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE A GOOD BOY

BEING A GOOD BOY DOESN’T WORK FOR ME

I WANT TO BE NORMAL, I WANT TO BE LIKED

I SING A SONG, I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH BAZ BOY, CAUSE HE TRIED TO JUST THINK I LIKED DISCIPLINE

I HATE BEING TOLD TO SHUT UP, IF YOU WANT ME TO SHUT UP, I WILL NEVER SHUT UP, CAUSE, I FOLLOW MY OWN STYLE

WHICH IS FUN, I BELIEVE IN HAVING FUN WHEREVER I GO OUT INTO THIS WORLD

I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU CAN’T REALISE, I HATE DISCIPLINE, I DON’T WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE I AM TOO WOOSEY FOR LIFE

I HATE BEING TOLD I HAVE TO BEHAVE, WHY DON’T YOU BEHAVE, YOU TELL ME TO BEHAVE, YOUR A TOTAL LOSER, BUDDY OLE BOY OLE CHUM OLE PAL

I AM GOING TO THE BOTANIC GARDENS TONIGHT, BUT I DON’T WANT TO HANG WITH DISCIPLINE LOVING NERDS

I DON’T DO BEHAVING, OK I WILL NEVER DO BEHAVING, I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE AN OLD FOGIE

I AM A COOL MIDDLE AGER, WHO LOVES TO PARTY

STOP DISCIPLINING ME, YA ****

OR I WILL NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN

blue laser inhabits the space beneath wet eyelids
eyelids catch wayward wings
wings licking nerves in a paranormal
paranormal rythm          
            
film formingashing  - skin boils over soft
see the horizon line. freckles rise to meet, formal
japanese businessmen with
crazed expressions

the ease with which
a skull drops
puts the weight on your back: piggyback haunt, glamoured golden
his own raw red lids with their fixed tears magnifying parts of
spoilt milk pools ... depth

scream not; he will murmur you
to sleep
and in that sleep draw eights on your body
spirit of pressure and spirit of luck

search not; your ghosts will never
return your gaze

A Crop of Lies irrigate farmland
Deception grows and dies
Its corpse sustains
A cycle refrains

Cold, this night is
Cracks open the ground
Revealing a sight
Seeping through with light

Regions were found
To be taken and conquered
Sailors sailed to eat sailors
And they as well ate bread

Sounds of paranormal had
Guided every boat, then plane
Then spaceship, to the inside
Of a toy box they made

“These Crops dictate Truth”
Says Man (or monster)
Every night is cold; cracked
These Crops are impure

Livestock tell stories of their leader
It’s more of saying really
Because they’re ******* livestock
The Truth cannot tell nor talk

Reason slips off their skin
Like water off oil
Harder and harder it is
For Man to let joy soak in






Journeys of discovery
Travel through the television
Crisps, colas, pies, and cakes
Is what ******* does it

Beef pulp, French toast, tomato paste
Is what ******* does it
All we consume is ****
Crying fat morons decompose

“I really like the rain”
Says ****** with pudding stain
And her body melts and pours
As the rain does inexcusably

Great big dogs soak up in the rain
Unlike Man with his walking cane
They are all dying as they retreat
Underneath a roof of sin to replace

Emotional politicians claim they’re drug-free
As they smoke cigs and drink alcohol
Infant babies were torn apart in shopping malls
Did the World set them free?

Man (or monster) propose
To have a war on anything
Must any more children die?
Or can they get high; watch television?
What the **** is wrong with an aspect
Of harmless self-discovery
Can Man wager livestock’s epiphany?
Is it o.k. to live in a subdivision?

Or on a farm, or in the television?
Do these Crops have to dictate
Which victim we choose to mate?
To dictate our truth?

Can the fake astronaut admit?
He got ******* high; watched sitcoms
Ate potato chips, ate cereal out of the box
Never told a soul it was a hoax

Crops soak in the sweet rain
As the political Man weeps
These Crops become true
Dying Men no longer retreat

A Crop of Lies
Become so true
This wisdom is beauty
What we see now
Is as clear as day

angry men, get more done, but angry men die very young



you see my dad was always getting angry, nobody knows why he did

you see he was waiting for the perfect time to stop treating me like a kid

you see dad was angry at me because i didn’t clean my computer table

and he also was angry at me for converting to the cindrella cleaning system

you see angry men get things done, but they also die very young, dad was young, at age 75

i miss his helpful side, by helping me understand the computer

like art colony, writers cafe, and hello poetry and FACEBOOK, man

you see i hated dads frown, you see angry people die very young

i am not one of those angry people, that is why i am frustrated

because people are trying to push my nice side up to space

and my evil side i want to get rid of, cause, i am not shy to look *******

but i am a complete normie, only nerds are angry, very angry nerds

they will die very young, very very young

i hated my dads angriness, cause he hyped me up

i knew dad would die first, because he show his happy side like me

i am not living in the past for anyone

dad was angry, he helped me with the computer, i say thanks to the paranormal dad

but i still thought that dad was a cranky man

hail to the yobbos the yobbos the yobbos

hail to the yobbos and the old cranky dad

i know dad isn’t teasing, but he is an old cranky dad

i am the happiest dude in canberra, happier than anyone

i help the poor, i help the poor

an old cranky dad sits there up on cloud 9 wanting

pat has powers to take old hags out of people

old hags who are trying to be cool kids

ANGRY MEN GET THINGS DONE, BUT THEY DIE YOUNG LIKE DAD

ANGRY MEN GET THINGS DONE, BUT THEY DIE YOUNG LIKE DAD

ANGRY MEN GET THINGS DONE, BUT THEY DIE YOUNG LIKE DAD

i am a cool young dude, i have a lot of fun