yesterday i saw dolphins
i swam with dolphins
their black knife jackknife dorsal-whatevers
slicing the water, scalpels into flesh,
disappearing, reappearing, disappearing,
reappearing
a herd of silent Lamborghini cracking jokes at my expense
(looks plural to me)

yesterday i saw dolphins
i chatted with an old man
who said they're laughing all the time, diving for *******
"Oh yeah, we get dolphins here,"
he might as well tell me Jesus lives there, too
or some kind of black magic came through
making these creatures appear
his nonchalance is weird

yesterday i swam with dolphins
well, saw, not swam, viewed, not caressed
but
all i want to do is see them
all i want to do is breathe with them
all i want to do is float in the same sea with them


my heart ripped to pieces in appreciation

We often hear about radical Muslims,
And some do pose a threat.
But there are other dangerous radicals
About whom people forget.

Radical Christians and radical Hindus:
Both have been in the news.
Yes, there are even radical Buddhists
And also radical Jews.

Radical WHATEVERS can be a danger--
No matter the crusade they declare.
The problem is not one certain group,
But radicals everywhere.

To see extremists twist religion
Is especially galling;
To see it used to justify cruelty
And hatred is appalling.

All should follow their conscience but must
Let others do the same.
The freedom to choose one's path should be
A universal aim.

If people use religion to condemn
And to stifle query and thought,
Today's relevance of their religion
And values amounts to naught.

- by Bob B

Travis scotts concert was 100% a satanic soul harvest. He sent those souls to another dimension.
Think I'm stretching? READ ALL THE WAY THROUGH.
First off. He called his event a "festival".  The definition of a festival is a feast. Did you see a large amount of food?
Or did you see a feast of souls?
His stage was the symbol for alchemy.  The egyptian ankh. The Egyptian ankh has to do with life. Because the wealthy know when you die and when you are born, you create a ripple in time and space for your soul to come and go. The best way to describe it is like a pool. Imagine you are about to jump into your local swimming pool. The water will break your entry and you will safely hit the bottom. Now. Imagine there is a person at every single part of the edge and you all jump in at the same time. Now you've got a problem. Soul harvesting is the same way. When you die your soul creates a ripple and it can safely leave. But. When you have a bunch of people dying in the same spot the spiritual realm becomes stressed in that location due to the high amounts of energy our souls resonate as they are leaving and entering the in between of this realm and other dimensions.  Therefore they have created machines that have tapped into the in between to ****** your soul. Who gets it and where it goes?  Other things are possible as well. Like the exchange of a good soul for whatevers on the other side?. Have you ever heard of cern? The large hydron collider. It's the largest machine in the world. This is NOT knew technology. The Mayan indians knew about this. The egyptians knew about this. THIS IS WITCHCRAFT AT THE HIGHEST DEGREE.
Let me break it down.
Travis Scott is a WITCH. The microphone is his wand. He is a (M.C.) (Master of ceremonies).  
With his wand he uses his voice (frequency) to help bring in the energy needed to open the portal. He brings a crowd of 50 to 70 thousand people who are generating IMMENSE amounts of energy into a low vibration. Love is the highest. Aggression is the lowest.
Then the design of his stage along with the lights become the sigil to help open the portal. Remember his stage was the symbol for alchemy?
YOU can't see the portal. You just see a fancy light show.
But those who are dying and their souls are separating from their bodies can.
The only way a living person MAY see through the portal is if they had taken an Elixir like Ayahuasca.
Do you ever wonder why all these "rappers" want to date the highest ranking Arminian witch family Kardashians?
Could it be because they are witches?

They do these kind of rituals behind closed doors all the time. What you saw was them coming out in the open.
The goal for you is to pass on and move to a higher dimension. You are drawn to the heavens because that's where you came from.
When you start gaining wealth, you start the search for immortality. Wealth is a drug that most refuse to part with.  So this is where satanism comes in. There's a theory of  reincarnation if you can create enough negative energy for yourself, you can weigh your soul back down. This is where the technology of transferring your consciousness back into another avatar has its place.
You can see why we are at a cross roads of transhumanism and luciferienism.
Some believe the elites WERE once humans and during the days of Atlantis that changed. Their technology hit a point they no longer needed human bodies. And they became the pinnacle of Transhuman. But no longer human. Something else. Maybe this is what "sanat kumara" is? A.K.A. Satan.

Im so Alone..     ..... .on my own .
Im bent....Iam spent..... darkness my only friend.
Another secret we will share.
Inot sure when and I dont know where.
But I dont care. Im glad Im there.
It    Whispers  Images that come in waves...
Each appearing  in it own unique way.
In a  vibrant white and yellow glow..
A silhouette of a man...   I do not know.
The outline of a  very high bridge....
That spans across a narrow ridge.
Letters, numbers a bass guitar....
A lined highway road that  goes straight ,very far.

Each image manifests,and dissipates...
into the pitch black, empty space.
Illuminated in electric light.
Shifting shape before my eyes.
They see all ,theyre opened wide.
What happened to gravity.?Why do they glide?


What I thought was a loud buzzing hum...
Accompanied  by the pound of a  drum.
Is  the silence that  echos in  my head.
 It courses my   veins...Like the blood I have bled.
Only it  holds me here instead,as if im incased  in a ton of lead
To  my bed and pillow held under this weight.
 Only I could be fragile glass about to break
Until  I reminded myself that what I feel is fake.
Then my mind is pulled to a quiet hush. 
Where my  head sinks down in  inviting plush

Suddenly I feel as if  I'm floating  in time.....   
Forward yet I'm moving into mine.
Theses images -that  continue to fade in....  
Then changing as it fades right back out again.
 While others make there way with a pop
That flashes  down low and shifts up to the top....
And lingers for a moment til its shape forms  another to take its place.
 What omce  vague I come to realize that what actually fades in and out is  I.
In and out but forward into myself .I wonder how thought  it was anything else.
 Am I in flight or am I floating ...into the images I go through.?
Should I question if what I see if false or true?
I won't look down for fear the view.
It might will let me drop and'.I dont know if I want to start.

As I go forward   into my self I move  on- In this current  Im carried it pulls me  along .
Through a timeless space of nowhere.
Every thing is as meaningful  as it  is pointless  there.
 I m drifting.... I drift in a slow steady pace. 
Not just watching .....but Ive become part of the space 
Not only within.... but all over the place.

Interacting with each scene - that I see - as I glide.
Looking from inside .....but also within.
When what I watch ends....another begins.

As if it is the most normal thing in my whole life
What seems strangely familiar, Is too vague to realize.
While It escapes all  logic  Its so incredibly wise.
I even ask myself not to believe my eyes.
But Im true to myself I tell no lies.?..Not this time....
Not  to me myself and I.
I f  there were times , surely, this is not one.
  I see myself  doing things I've done
 And doing these things.... things I'd never do.
Yet Im continueing to do them all the way through.
And Im feeling the same emotions I see me haveing too.
They come and go as quickly as what surrounds me.
Whatevers around me..
. Laughter, surprise,embarrassment they go on and on.... 
Anger, contentment.....but  I feel mostly mostly calm.
  In a hum of  energy that  sometimes snaps and sparks.
But It continues in motion even when I dont want it.
 In a current pulled away  but within it ....Im on it.

In a flash I stop. It lets me drop...
With that halt - I m in a fall .
Gravity ****** me heavily away.
It pulls my body and stretches my face.....
It tosses my tummy like a carnival ride.
And me, with this awful fear of heights...
Thats when I remember- I know how to fly.
I dont end in a crash....I soar to  the skies....
Im an expert at this I barely have to try.

I feel so safe, so free from harm.Oh great ,Whats the noise coming out of my arm?
I this sound ,'What is it ?
Why...thats my alarm!!!
                       Eyes open wide.What a ride!
MEDITATION Astro glide.
    
                                      

                        ­          -

We create ourselves,
our lives,
our everything.
We build our homes,
our families, our whatevers.
A make-shift cure for lonliness.
A lil' love hut.
With an open
heart and an open door.
One day you'll
hear a,
knock-knock-knocking
on your door.

& When you open it.
The Bad News Bears
will come in and
break you down until there is
nothing,
even in
your own mind's house.

Right before your very,
bright light blue sky tear-drop colored eyes.
The real-life-dream will end. & You'll wake up.

Until then, sweet dreams. <3

This is to pay homage to our very smart calico-color-cat
She talks too much even talks back and on her collar
a heart-shaped name-tag bears her name, "Reese"
being the lover of people...



You see, too many other behaviors so lovingly insane
she bears a reflection in short verse
I can only explain...

You see, she gives a parlor welcome
by rolling on the floor
our feline watchman
for the opening of the front-room door

You see, she sits so
like the sphinx
upon the sea of sand
so reverent, so silent, so grand

You see, she thinks she's Cleopatra
gliding across the room
chasing imagined whatevers
in an endless purring tune

You see, she likes to:
Side swipe, give a loving bite, bump a head,
be on our bed, dizzy dance, be in a trance
kiss her head, eat with love, tap our leg, and
open our bedroom door...WOW!!!

You see, watching furry *****,
her crumpled way to sleep
sleeping in many places curiosity to seek
and once upon your leg-bed
so cozy, so warm, so deep

You see, she's the lion in Africa
on an earthy colored rug
chasing toy animals
and an imagined turtle dove

You see, she drops her favorite toy
besides our bedroom door
making trust and love
will forever endure

You see she dashes up our steps
and flies all around;
practicing for tryouts- seemingly-
as a dashing circus clown

You see, with her sorcerer's spell
think or mention her name
then BAM!!...out of the blue
she's walking in your domain

You see, her hiding in foliage
is nothing but a chair
ready to playfully pounce
upon a toy duck in despair

You see, her eyes of staring wisdom
burrow right into you
A beautiful loving feline
from the university of feline U

You see, she gives us orders
what not to do
because her alma mater is feline U

You see, she's cat-dog-human
perplexing as can be
Makes one wanna climb
the highest nearest tree

You see, she licks her coat of colors
of Reese peanut butter candy cups
of brown and dark and milky chocolate
one of her many ups

After all, this list keeps growing
and must be cut short
I must collect my thoughts, for many things to sort...

Thank you and Reese says, "MEOW." (as always)

Staring up at the stars
running hands over the old scars
playing with my own heart as I lay awake.
God I really miss the past when no one cared,
Hell, it's really the same even now, because I'm still so unprepared.

I have at this point pretty much given up the effort of life.
Got a million things always gluing themselves to my brain,
not letting go, the plaguing memories attacking my rest each night.

And I've been thinking,
thinking maybe one last one,
and with my emptying feelings unchanging,
I just might.

Looking at all the lines I've drawn
all the progress made since then...
But no matter how long ago,
my body still begs for rewrites.
And I dont have enough heart left to say no,
that it should be lost back in time.
Yet for some unknown annoying reason everything around me screams to "wait"  I scream back "Why?"
"Because things can still change,
that my thoughts may rearrange".

So if I'm trying to be smart,
who shouldn't I give in to,
whatevers in me wants the red art.
My heart or my brain,
when both of them make me feel like in a single wrong move I'll somehow end up insane.

But who do I trust,
a future myself dreaming,
or as always, a quick fall back to the blood after reminiscing,
the hidden part of me who will always remember the feel, the freedom, brought by the savage selfharm lust.

Why shouldn't I cut
if it hurts no one else,
and no one else knows?

So what does it matter if I give in,
give this demon inside me what it wants?
I'm already dying, already losing
forcing myself into unfair competition and unmanageable choosing...

So why on Earth shouldn't I just cut?
If I'll never seriously want to leave, forever longing the warmth given in these blood filled daydreams.
Why fake the happiness when it's truly a grave?
when I can just stop,
let it happen,
and smile for real when I'm laying quietly and alone
in my shallow, self fulfilling rut.

Beyond the bend in the river
Past the mountains and the seas
Far away from the ice sheets that make us shiver
Through the whatevers and the what will be's

There is a place of light and sound
Of good vibes and beeting drums
Where down is up and squares are round
And the slow are fast and the smart are dumb

In this place you have no face
Nobody judges and nobody cares
We are blind to color. We are blind to race
Nobody whispers and nobody stares

In this land so different from our own
We will live in perfect harmony
People are free to search and roam
And whatever will be will be

In The Land of Whatever
-

Close your eyes.
Do you see it?
Those little lights?
You are almost there.
Almost.

Dragging my *** to the liquor store
After midnight on a brand new Tuesday
I sort of wish

That I could sit cross-legged in a desert somewhere
With the sun ripping into me
And sweat out all the cheeseburgers I ever ate
All that yellowy cheddar would ooze out of my pores
All the slippery chunks of meat would fall off my forehead
                                   And sizzle in the sun
Maybe all the tar from all the cigarettes would slip out too
      All the whiskey would steam off into the great big blue sky
         All the slaves my great great great whatevers owned would come whooping freely out of me
              All the meanness and rudeness and all those little selfish thoughts would drip on out
                                             The *** would crawl right out of my *****
                    And any little pieces of broken hearts would fly back to their owners
And I'd wither into a shrunken pillar of pure good
That'd be nice                                                    
A relief                              


But if there was a shred of me left on my bones
I'd probably just drag my *** to another liquor store
To celebrate

I'm pretty weak.
Weak in body,
Weak in spirit.
Weak in places I never knew I could be.

Your mom screamed at me to grow a backbone.
You were my backbone.
I tried to grow you.
I tried to grow us.

She would have none of it.
Threats, promises, whatevers.
Name calling, screaming and shouting.
I didn't deserve it at all.

There is no more mystery, no hidden gem,
No unfound treasure, no rock unturned,
No land untrodden, no holy ground,
#unfiltered all around.

No want for tomorrow, no story to tell,
No chinese whisper or wishing well,
No unheard tick of a clocks pointed handle,
No unchartered water or unlit candle.

No patience to bare just one more day,
No unscripted plays, leaving nothing to say,
No route unmarked, no map undiscovered,
No unbeaten tune, no songs uncovered.

No sitting, wandering what might never be,
Why bother wondering when google is free.

No crime unreported, yes, a marvelous thing,
But if crimes become nothings is war a greater thing?
No boundaries obeyed, as cultures melt together,
Empty replies downpour with "whatevers"

And we stand back to witness,
Life moving with such speed,
Unable to slow it, barely able to breathe!

In a world that screws us all its only right that some of mine would loosen..
Preaching from the top of a chair reaching for my noose and..
Here I find serenity, death has always tempted me..
Ill give you whatevers left of me..
Not what I pretend to be..
If I succeed I guess there's no regretting see..
I get to escape,leave it all behind..
Keep me in your heart, you were always on my mind..
Keep me sacred and hold me close..
That's me you feel when the warm wind blows..
See my face in the smoke, billowing from ashes..
Only few live the life. but deaths promised to the masses.

Science claims a woman only "falls in love" once, and is irrevocably wreckt after that,



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXXVI)


There was a reason Lagerfeld fr'intents
Did not waste aught on social media, frail
As which excuses for the same detail
Of foolish, erm, indulgence was't from thence?
And likewise why I'm dull without defense
For having lost me to renditions' tale
Was't? of my latest fav'rite: song; to scale--
Th'orignal that I love, and later's sense.
That taste of Cossack/Russian dancing fer
Dear memries of lo, Fiddler On what? to
Effect--The Roof--is gone, quite gone in poor
Reply for "Moskau" being the theme we knew,
Yes, ALL of us, was nashnalistic.  Were
Our joys in "disco" 'nough, that's "okay" too?

29Mar19b  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NvS351QKFV4

It's a
    Hit-after-hit
Spitting image of the gutter.

Needle sewn to the vein,
chained to the mind,
Finding God, only to
     Fall.

All these
Psychedelic-whatevers,
No use for names.

Just effects,
Just feelings.

My spine is snapping
And dripping
Out acid.

It is, an odd feeling
Of
Who am I?

Getting darker as the night does
(Yet)
It is not even midnight?

It is, realization.
That perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
I took
You took
Maybe one or two or ten
too many tablets.

Gorging yourself on your finger to
Save your life.

That inveterate thought of
"Please don't be too late"
Is when you know
I know
It's too far
Gone.

Ignore the lyrics:
You can't pursue love.
You don't find love.
Love's not a thing to be kept or had;
it's a doing word that you both have to work at.
Love is a language expressed in deeds
and so clear expression of your love best succeeds when you both discover what the other most dearly needs.
So spend time planting daily deeds of love, every one a fragile seed.

Continue to listen day and night
and learn what each other prefers and what you both like.
And then, when you get it right
you'll be answered by a unmistakable light in their wide glistening eyes.
-
Do it on a date.
Do it with your mates.
Do it when you're tired and it's heavy eyed late.
Do it in the everyday mundane way
you pair your own socks
and clear away last night's takeaway.
-
Laugh often and have fun
especially when you feel life has you on the run
and be sure to surprise each other both regularly and often
Maybe even invest
in a pair of water guns.
-
Share the fragile thoughts
you find at the forefront of your mind.
Reveal your vulnerability, the hurt you feel when life's been unkind.
-
And in response to that revealed insecurity, ensure you tread carefully  until you see the healing that comes from interlacing lovingly.
-
Speak your love every day.
Articulate it come what may.
And that way you'll ensure that it stays
at the forefront of each of your todays,
on the tip of your tongues
so when you inevitably take a step wrong
you'll both recall why you're together
and why it's worth the endeavour that it takes to push through that unexpected foul weather.
Love one another through that gale
and sail on to meet the adventure
that's yours to discover:
Through the miles of your wherevers,
for the duration of your whenevers,
strong enough for your whatevers,
standing together,
forever relentlessly loving each other.
-
So may the Lord of your tomorrows bless you together.
May the Lord keep you smiling whatever.
May his face shine on you in all kinds of weather.
And may He give you peace
that will never cease to give you pause to thank Him for his grace
forever.
-
And all the assembled people said
AMEN.

leave the paintings
leave the photos
leave the vinyl albums
...that was a pointless hobby...
leave the love
leave the tooth
leave the journals
...you can read whatever you'd like now...
leave the cats
leave the ***
leave the blood stains
...on the bathroom floor...
grab only the good books
whatevers left of the gin
grab the coffee maker
put your shoes on
i'm ******' outta here

Of all the things you've looked at and said
"Wow, that's so beautiful."
How many are still there?
Ten?
Maybe just the ocean?

Picture a playground
Swing set jungle gym
Whatevers on a childrens playground
It's behind your house.
You go there twice a week

There's tutus and there's overalls
And there's little horses with springs on the bottom
That are slightly rusted
But they rock back and fourth and don't fall over anyway
Because they're so far
Dug down into that playground tar
It's just, permenant
It takes three men wearing orange vests to pull it out of the ground.
There are memories there.
Some of them are even caught on video
And you
You can't go there again

Did you see what you've become? A consumer of the world,
A lover of those shows for those who long to just be heard.
A breather of the air, so dense, that we can barely see,
A taker of whatevers going, items presumed to set you free.

Did you see what you've become?A product of someone else,
A replica of her or him, a never ending image of the self.
A who, a what, a where, a when, a constant reflection of them.
Don't forget to become what you said you would, be what you ought to be.

Did you see yourself on the screen? I did, on every last page.
A happy, adventurous side of you - no different from the masses.
When did you stop playing the lead, settling for backstage?
Just when social hierarchy is becoming archaic you construct divergent classes.

You are more than you think, you are who you are,
You are the person they want to see.

Dancing somewhere in the shadows, behind whatevers in the way,
Her thoughts spin quietly,
As if shes afraid of knowing what to say,
They jump and fall and press themselves to the tip of her tongue but courage or lack thereof reminds her what must be done.
The words she uses fit perfectly like the notches of a key fit a lock,
Her application is where the art is,
Delivery as gentle soft rock.


I just wanna know,
Everything you wish you had,
Everything I'm not for you,
And everything he is,
Is there something I can do about it?
Or is it just the proof in the pudding that I'm supposed to be alone?

When he strums do you have the urge to tell him,
"You're definitely not allowed to do that"
And when my arms are wrapped around you is it his voice bouncing around in your head that drowns me out?
Lately I don't know which parts of me you'd keep if I fell apart,
Or which you would trash because you have no use for them.


She always tells me 95 percent,
And vague as they can be listening to her speak her words is always time well spent.

Profanities,

declarations

bombastic, love/ hate sprayed, whatevers,
beer-stained brutalist underpass

the lake, a paper-mill, stink of pulp-steam,
dog-**** minefield ,fast-food cartons

park-and-riding, egg-fried verges
turgid outflow,

Down this squeezed tube,
of dead algorithm n' *****,
blue-green algea ,wetland gangrene,

come Nightingales..

Meliflous revelry,

distinctive dichotomy,

obvious opposite

oddity

Beneficent Mediterranean
medicine chugged via
secretive syrinx

sweet,

sweet

sweet unplugged jugular

thick cut clarity, every
note a pearl-dropped hope for muddled

ditches, creeks and jetties, broken
wings of football pitches

blood of oak and bluebell
soaking smoke above the muddied tracks

and clearing,

clearing all
before their song

ruins the buzz,
rushes reality back,
        rudely wakes me up from fantasy life-

                          slaps me in
my face, like ice cold showers,
             or when the voices stop

                               talking
leaving me to my own
            whatevers , or dreams-

                            makes me
throw up, fall down,
                 needing it back

Like rewind it's back again
Like cancer it never left me.
I thought with you it will be different
but like the others you do the same.
You're here only to break me
Only to hurt me
Take whatevers left and desert me.
But to your loss I have no more for you to break.
If you were death I'd hug you with love for im ready to go.
If you were an enemy ready to **** me I'd hand you the blade.
I have no more
For you to take
I have no more to lose
I have lost the war of love and can no longer be abused.
My heart no more then a pump now and my soul no less than a flickering light.
**** me
Break me
Or
Hurt me
I dont expect anymore than that from you than I have from the others..

Looking through my window
Waiting for a change in weather
The chipped paint reminds me of worse days
And a disconnection from the things I used to know
Like a fly on the window
Curious
With freedom in plain sight
Shorts and long Sock season
The sun's rays beaming
Blasting Skrwd as our mutual summer time theme tune
Such irony
Because now the weather's changed I won't settle for room temperature again
I feel a growth in my bones
I'm not waiting
I'm not waiting anymore
I'm just taking
Taking whatevers thrown
The cold doesn't effect me like it used too
My teeth don't chatter from fear of being alone
If summers the place to be
Let's make it a permanent state of mind I'll try find warmth in the greyest of skies.

Quest or journey?
One has an end in mind, which?
I wonder?

A step, a line to cross; who laid this line?
In my mind, I imagine I am several,
if not many,
opposing mental-

beings, persons, suggests a bird, there...

can you, no, you can't.
I am here, and you are there, and neither of us matters.

At the moment you next notice me, all I knew
of Beckett was sorted and stacked, so
hap hazardly that any thought may seep through the
softening cellular barriers,

holding,my idea of me as more than one thing, being
in contention for
contentment, with godliness {undefined}

how odd. No lie is of the truth; but known lies live
institutelary as gods,
mental constructs, ala church or synagogue or pedagogue

of your choice.
Sort.
---- breakaway narrative thread, said soto voce, golf shot caller voice,

Poli-yesterday, say we gone gno no mo no mo no mo hit

--- did you finish the line, must have
here am I, jack of all trades, you paid attention, at the mention of my
name,
the euphemism of vastest worth, or you know jack.

Gnosticsnotso impossibly true as a true player in the balance
of in for by, all manner of pre set positions,
adding weight where weight is wanting,
lifting lightly where denser matter
crushes hope of ever finding love {undefined}
the game of the gods-spirit-winds-whatevers

give and take that makes this world of mere words
flow
through and through, over and under, one way or another.

Here,
join me, it's 2020, I live on the westside of a granite wave,
a reflective wave,
I think, the crest is seven thousand feet, and past that, there
is Borego, and a trail heading east, across the land
in the rain shadow of the Pacific Crest.

This is the rest that remained, after the shamed man's journey
from the east.

West is west, keep going.

Peeping birds, and curious dogs in the distance, neither obtrusive,
but then the dog goes silent,
and the peeping voice could irritate if I were to allow... allow
by whose authority,
do i allow this peeping, ah, I see, it is the squirrel, squeek
no peep.

It will cease if I whistle like a hawk, but
today, that would be lying to the little rodent whose kits
are as cute as any cat on Facebook, but only

when the peep
stops... and the I'll go on, rythm, I'll go on

be yonder when the role is called, say I,
I am here,
waiting with the rest that remain from Eden,
back in the day.

I'd like to nighten the day
add that cool air coursing
across your skin announcing
once and for all open season
on getting my attention darkly

lick across your lips I dare you
shift your eyes side to side again
do it and absent yourself lean away
form this arrowing in it thinks sharp
at its whatever amongst whatevers

and i listen guiltily am  I responsible
did I did I did I cause all of this chaos
or or or  am i am i weather happening
to sentient seconds rushing pedantically
to a crest a crescent a crusty tableau grinning
at nowhere that is wanting to be somewhere

BIRTH STORIES

Before we knew
anything at all about ***

we knew
all about our birth
stories.

Our Mam
would recall & regale us all
(setting the table...peeling spuds...sweeping out the hall)  

with the intimate
details

of all
our births.

“Tell us of US again...Mam...tell of us again! ”

I was small
(2lbs 2 ounces)  

hardly anything
at all.

A mere scrap of
human being.

Blathin Ashling
was even smaller

(1 lb something or other)  

...a little miracle.

Was it Deirdre
with the cord wrapped
around her neck

fighting both
Life & Death

‘til she was blue
In the face

Or Grainne
with the cord so thin

she was born just in
the nick of time

& the cord(just a hair’s
breath)  

floats eternally now
(in a glass of formaldehyde  still)  

for doctors to astonish
& marvel at.

And how
there being no incubators

when I came into being

they had to wrap
me up
in cotton wool

(as if I were a
precious thing)  

in order to keep
me warm

but I wasn’t having
any of it

kicking my way
out of the stuff

only for them
to repackage
me again!

And again...& again.

And here(in 1956)  
I arrive on the scene

tip toeing out into
Life

with cool coal black
full length sideburns

ready to rock
& roll man

as the labour ward radio
played

the hit
of the day

“CE SERA...SERA! ”

It’s almost as if
I can still hear
Doris singing

our whatevers
will bes.

Our birth
story

each our
first fairy story

& we

the Princes & Princesses
of it
all.

Let me be clear my reality is torturous
My delusions
Proof of rediculous ego
disproportionate
To intelligent logic.
Sad deformed
And torn like documents
In storage bins
. That show. Moments
Of my pre collosal morbidness
And internal shore
Of sailors coming home
To get awards for valour
On Normandy shores and ****.

Take awY the course of tomorrow
When my secret is
Clean but born of demons
And ***** that gets me *****
Like of course
Thats all it is.
If I just swallow it.
I have to acknowledge everything
From torment
Positive attraction
Satisfaction and the opposite
The closet kid.
With a tropical climate.
Thats an obstacle.
To any bit of purpose
I'm nervous
Marshall law will be a distraction
From the constant thought
F
That God is law.
And I'm all thats wrong
With all this holding on
I want whatevers law
To set str8 whats wrong
And quit holding on
And change.
Embrace and face my god
Away from godlessness
Or at least stop me
From talking ****
Or least make me more cautious ****