captured in the psych ward, new year special




it’s new years eve and ron bought along his punch bowl and a few sushi dishes

as well as party sandwiches, to make the people in the psych ward have a good atmosphere

for the new year, and this year charlie chaplin man was going to read all of his poems as the

entertainment and the nurses did a lot of work so the patients feel calm enough to enjoy

charlie’s show, so medication time was before the show and even charlie, because he was worried

he would yell very loudly if he didn’t and then it started

ron said, ok guys we are going to have a mini new years eve concert run by this man charlie chaplin

charlie said, welcome and happy new year and my first song is   The schitzophrenic


You see I am sitting at the mall
I am having dillusions of people teasing me, and I wish this will all stop, oh please, just leave me the f..k alone
And then I hear voices that aren't really being said o hear Jon killed my best friend named Fred, the thing is I have no best friend, oh year
1 2 3 4 do the schitzophrenic
From the first diagnosis till the day you reach 45, you see if i take medication it can be controlled yeah oh yeah
I am schitzophrenic
Then I went to see my psychiatrist and he told me, to try and get a life, I told him I was blackbeard and John F Kennedy, he just threw a smart *** comment my way, I thought that comment was rude and ******, yes it is hard to be liked when you do
1 2 3 4 do the schitzophrenic
Yes it's easy to do, just let me hang out
You see with my medication it can be controlled, ooooh
I am schitzophrenic
You see I get paranoid when I see people around and right wing governments want us locked up
It mighty hard to have this illness and I cab say this
1 2 3 4 do the schitzophrenic
Do it once and you get all hooked and after that you feel like a geek, cause your a schitzophrenic, and also with medication it can be controlled
Oooooh I'm a schitzophrenic
Yes, that's true

charlie said, that was a great song and it’ll get you started ya know, the next song is maybe later


maybe later, i will get what i want

maybe later, i will rediscover the beauty

of being alive in this great world

it’s just a long-awaited journey

from beginning to end

and i will try and enjoy the moment

in the psych ward spotlight

i say, please slow down, your moving too fast

please almighty one, let me live long enough to give

a poor old soul a home

they don’t want a bench and they don’t want an old burnt out hall

it’s not fun for me

to look at these big buildings

with hot shot business types, when your not one

it’s enough to drive you mad

please make me except it could be later




the next song charlie sang was standing on the inside looking out, a song that explains what we are going through


standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

in the psych ward trying to get better

you see i was visioning i was in glenelg bay

but instead you get doctors saying how are you enjoying your day

i wished i was well and enjoying my life

instead of being in here wasting away

then i called out to almighty god

and the best i can get is a man who claims he is jesus christ

i said, no, were you nailed to the cross

and he said yeah after i rode in on my horse

and i said wasn’t it a donkey you ran in on and i was

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

in the psych ward trying to get better

i was getting bored, so i asked the nurse

to give me a pass out to the cafe

because i was starting to lose my mind

and when they said no i let out a little wine

i said please please please, mate, this place is driving me mad

the inmates here, smell really really bad

so the nurse made me a banana smoothie and i said thanks

and took it away to my bed, walking past every room before mine

i even tripped over a piece of fishing line

then i sat down in my glenelg bay apartment sipping my smoothie saying

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

in the psych ward trying to get better

dinner time came and i had fish and chips

it was ever so discusting, ya know like hospital food

i opened my orange juice and gave it one almighty sip

and i ate my chocolate mousse, yeah it is as tasty as

when dinner was over i went to the TV room

to watch the news and home and away

then some dude came into watch it with me

and he said, did you know i was GOD, i said, no

as i sat there thinking i was

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

in the psych ward trying to get better

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

standing on the inside looking out

in the psych ward in the psych ward

in the psych ward trying to get bet-ter


charlie chaplin after that song was over sang his small poem titled a smile has nothing on us, here goes


whether you let out a big smile or not

you could add it to your melting ***

what you need is a great big melting ***

big enough to take the world and all it’s got

every thing that you can eat

my rundown car is really neat

the coffee urn is piping hot

boiling whether you like it or not

but your smile comes through and through

like a fresh flower, blooming every day for me and you

i try to smile all the time

cause  it’s very fun to do

i like smiling, cause it’s fun



charlie then announced his next song saying spare me, because when your poor you always say spare me. here goes


spare me some money for the bus

spare me some money for the bus

spare me some money

so i don’t look like such a dummy

spare me some money for the bus

spare me some cutlets for my tea

spare me some cutlets for my tea

spare me some cutlets

and some vegetables

thank you very muchlets

spare me some cutlets for my tea

spare me some wine to go with that

spare me some wine to go with that

spare me some wine

so i can feel so divine

spare me some wine to go with that

spare me some chocolate for after that

spare me some chocolate for after that

spare me some chocolate

so i can have what you have

spare me some chocolate for after that


charlie then said, my next song is every day is a day of disappointment because being here really *****


Every day is a day of dissapountment

One day as I was walking down a busy street, saying g'day to everyone who u walk past, then I went back through the park and I saw so many walks of life, from the beggars asking for money and the rich refusing to give it to them, and it all sounds so crazy as I walk through doing nothing like that, after that I felt a bit peckish, so I went to the take-away to buy myself an hamburger with egg and bacon and there was this weird looking fella standing at the door, greeting each customer with a smile, he didn't really work there, but he will never be told to leave, cause he ain't a threat, oh no, then after that I went to the grocery store to buy enough supplies to last me for a week, or maybe more, I could hardly know, then after that, all that shopping made me a bit thirsty, so I went to the sports club and drown my day away, with a ice cold fosters lager or a ice cold can of VB, after that I will get so drunk o could hardly stand up and my friends drove me home and they also walked me inside, just to make sure, I don't collapse on the front lawn, you see, your day seems to go from good to bad, if you make the wrong choices and that makes every day, a day of dissapointment, after that horrible night on the *****, I got up and had a hangover cure, consisting of two raw eggs and worcestershire sauce, yes that sounds so very tasty, yes I love it and live by it, it really makes me feel like I can have a party in my mouth and everyone is invited to spend about a year or so, at the local sports club doing one thing every single day, and then after that you won't seem like every day is a day of disappintment for everyone on this earth



charlie then decided to pretend he had a best mate named albert waldron and back then albert gave him lyrics to a song, here it goes



Alfred Waldron looking back, oh yeah



You see I was a great footballer, man
Yes, I was so ace, but it was a long long time ago
About close to 1 hundred years
You see I payed in South Australa
And I played footy very well, and after the match
I would go to my car, and get my BBQ an start cooking the snags
Yes, I loved that, it was really really cool
Everyone thought I was an average cook
And they all came over for some meat
Yes, I even had some nice cold beers
Yes, I think thats so very cool
As I cooked the meat, the other players were saying
Come on mate, cook us some nice beautiful Aussie snags
I also played cricket, for South Australia as well
And I even took my BBQ to the cricket for after match food
The only way you can do that now, is if you just stayed local
And some days, like at the footy and the cricket
Every player got very vocal
I was a real Australian guy, who loved to play, footy or cricket
And I loved the BBQ at the end, yes it was so esquized
Yes I had the muscles, and I have lots of those
Everyone enjoy eating a snag a sausage
And then an egg and bacon roll
Since that footy life ended i felt cool


ron said to charlie just one more song because people are yelling and we can’t control them, but charlie we will have the midnights fireworks for you, ok



charlie said he has got his fresh old legs going wild here it goes


they will dance

they will run

into the midday sun

they will race

warm embrace

be a bit lazy

head to the pub

go to the shop

to buy some clothes

angels coming down

worshipping the town

playing football

driving cars

around the good old town

having drinks with the guys

fresh flowers for sale at the shop at SHOPRITE

SHOPRITE SUPERMARKET

CUTTING ALL THE FOOD BILLS YEAH

spiders coming through the window

to destroy all mankind

makin g lamb for dinner

nicest you’ve ever seen

i said i will stay home and watch my mate, mr bean

yeah, your fresh legs go wild

when they do all these things

and before the end, charlie got the entire staff and patients to sing auld lent zine at 10.00 pm

because everyone was getting tired and cranky
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne!

Chorus:
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne!

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu’d the gowans fine,
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary foot
Sin’ auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl’t in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin’ auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie’s a hand o’ thine,
And we’ll tak a right guid willie-waught
For auld lang syne!

And surely ye’ll be your pint’ stoup,
And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne!




ron and charlie were helping each other clean up while the other patiens were being injected with ******

from yelling too much and after the cleanup was done, charlie went to the TV room to watch the fireworks

that were on at midnight on the TV, meanwhile, ron clocked off and went to the pizza hut and went home to

watch the fireworks on the TV thinking, today, ron made charlie a happy man, by letting him do his concert

it wasn’t till midnight but they can’t do that in the HDU.

He sleeps in evergreen trees
tying his long beard to a branch
and there he dreams of rabbit stew
wishing to snare one per chance

His emerald coat is perfect camouflage
so he lays on his shinny gold buttons
thinking of mint tea and chocolate cake
after a feast of lamb cutlets and mutton

This little greedy plump fellow
with stripy socks purple and yellow
will sing in his sleep to the birds in the tree
with a voice so sweet and so mellow

With nightfall's, he descends to the ground
making sure no human presence are around
and he speedily sifts through park litter bins
looking for cooking pots made out of tin


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

It would behoove my grade school bible teacher to know, that I have finally found Jesus. He sits alone at my neighborhood bar and in a fashion that is not unlike the line at a New York City Jewish deli shop, he takes questions. Ticket number 347, “What kind of man will I marry?” ticket number 7623,”When will the end of days come?” My bible study class oh, how they would shake inside their buttoned blouses with envy that I was the one to find Jesus, between drink, between cigarettes, with beer and peanut excrements on bottoms of his sandals. Handing out answers like pork cutlets to mouths that haven’t eaten in years because they have filled up on the appetizer that is stomach churning worry. The gutless and gutful sin of having problems without the hope of solutions that shakes believers so hard in the night they fall off their beds and land conveniently on their knees. They wake up in the morning with bruises and scratches, another problem but this time the solution is simple. A mixture of peroxide and cotton-blend Band-Aids, hugging tight stinging cuts until the next day when the Band-Aid is loose and falls off into meat grinders making sausage links you don’t even have the appetite for. I found Jesus in a bar. When I see him I remember Sunday school and how I stood up on the sweaty palm pulpit and yelled, “He is not real!” and now confronted with my falseness I wonder if I was wrong to try to cool off the fire in my belly that was unanswered questions by answering them myself. I took a ticket. I stood in line. I waited as the knot my grade school teach tied with my intestines tightened itself and pulsated with the influx of another beer and growing bowel movements that only made me more unsure of the source of pain in my belly. I watched as Jesus nodded politely in between admissions of sins and proposals of betterment like his neck was the waist of a Hawaiian ******* the dashboard of a Colorado trucker, or like aged fast-food wrappers that tilt forward with the inertia caused by strategically placed speed bumps.  Each nod, a mini-bow that seemed to contradict his devotion to his divinity and his authority over the bleeding kneed and hungry stomached servants. I am the last ticket before the last call and I take advantage of both. Being this close I can see sweat stains under his arms, my mother would say they are extra halos. “And your question, my child?” he says, and I think I should have been more prepared or at least not stuttered like the elementary school student stuck playing Pluto in the graduation play. “Was I wrong that day on the pulpit?” It was rudely put. I was embarrassed. He said, “Did it ease the hunger pain of uncertainty?” It did. “Then no, you answered your own question.” He seemed drunk at that point when he said that, so I trusted it as a sober man’s thoughts. Then I walked away full and knees unscathed.

In a misguided attempt to escape you
I fled to Nietzsche.

Weak
Inconstant
They are cats and birds
At best, cows,
he mocked.

I don't know about that
But I've never stolen glances at a cow
And felt my heart turn to ash
At the gentle devastation of its beauty
While praying that the mild curry in my mouth
Somehow shrivel up my tongue
And singe off the unspoken entreaties simmering within.

(And my affection for cows
Extends only to veal cutlets)

Today
Nietzsche and curry failed me
Tonight
It'll be the familiar embrace of alcohol
Until you fly back to Beijing.
After which
Are other substances and their derivatives
To deal with the fallout
Your transient smile
Wrought on my worn soul.

It would behoove my grade school bible teacher to know that I have finally found Jesus.
He sits alone at my neighborhood bar,
and in a fashion that is not unlike the line
at a New York City Jewish deli shop,
he takes questions.
Ticket number 347. “What kind of man will I marry?”
Ticket number 7623. ”When will the end of days come?”
My bible study class, oh,
how they would shake inside their buttoned blouses with envy
that I was the one to find Jesus,
between drinks, between cigarettes,
with beer and peanut excrements on bottoms of his sandals.
Handing out answers like pork cutlets
to mouths that haven’t eaten in years
because they have filled up on the empty appetizer
that is stomach-churning worry:
the gutless and gut-full sin,
of having problems without the hope of solutions
of having questions with silent answers
that it shakes believers so hard in the night they fall off their beds
and they land conveniently on their knees.
They wake up in the morning with bruises and scratches,
external hurts treated with
a mixture of peroxide and stuck-on-you band-aids
that hug tight their stinging cuts until the next day
when the Band-Aid losses its glue and falls off
when they land in meat grinders turning out sausage links
that no one even has an appetite for.

I found Jesus in a bar.

When I see him
I remember Sunday school
and how I stood up on the sweaty palmed stained pulpit and yelled,
“He is not real!”
and now that I am confronted with my falseness
I wonder was I wrong to try to cool the fire of questions unanswered
by answering them myself.

I took a ticket.
I stood in line.
I waited.
The knot my Sunday school teacher tied with my intestines
years ago tightened itself and pulsated
with the influx of another beer
and growing bowel movements that only made me more unsure
of the source of pain in my belly.

I watched
as Jesus nodded politely in between
admissions of sins and proposals of betterment
a gentle, deliberate nod
like his neck was the waist of a Hawaiian girl
on the dashboard of a Colorado trucker,
or maybe like aged fast-food wrappers that tilt forward with the inertia
caused by strategically placed speed bumps.
Each nod, a mini-bow that seemed to contradict
his devotion to his divinity and his authority
over the bleeding-kneed and hungry-stomached servants.

I am the last ticket before the last call and
being this close I can see sweat stains under his arms;
my mother would say they are extra halos.
“And your question, my child?” he says, and
I think I should have been more prepared
or at least not have stuttered like the elementary school student
one stuck playing the under appreciated Pluto in the graduation play.

“Was I wrong that day on the pulpit?”
It was rudely put. I was embarrassed.
He said, “Did it ease the hunger pain of uncertainty?”
He knew it did. So did I.
“Then no, you answered your own question.”
He seemed drunk when he said that,
so I trusted it as a sober man’s thoughts.
Then I walked away full
with knees unscathed.

you’re not adams apple

the  fruits from tree of the knowledge
of good and evil
in the centre of the garden of eden
in genesis

yet at you
the round oranges of this afternoon-town
i stare

and my pate gradually
becomes pregnant

the  wind that comes after
having a touch of your lips
puts the waging of its tail on my forehead

and my guava-leaf begins to melt

thus my hardware-business is going
into liquidation

the physician to the king is telling
it’s the symptom of an awful fever attended with
the morbidity of the three humours of the body

used… and used… and used…

your smile has not yet become
stupid

so from where the lamp-posts of the
town start

there are the cutlets  
and the bolster

they are not the only ones
to utter the last words
about the pill

i’m too
in this summer
trying to  decorate
the gate of my cage like wedding ceremony

if any silent dew-drop comes
to prepare and feed me
my birth-day frumenty

but i’ve no tongue
at all

all over the face there are only the eyes

and to the fate of my staring-at
has ever
so much blessings been available

I'm a tool pondering skyscapes.
Fondling a memory
Left behind
On sunset marquees.
It raced into the horizon like
A toad on the road.
A neon dream waving farewell.

Exploring mindsets:
An act in caressing
Bloodbath tesseracts.
A roundhouse rollercoaster,
Spinning at velocity of perfume
Hitting nasal perforations.

Core memories surface along spine cutlets,
No longer intrinsic
Doubt.
I'm settling for more.
A bathed blue baby is a moment
Too long to endure.

Hindsight is
A parson's lake passage;
A mad monster yet to be tamed;
A grain of salt to a fresh wound made;
Moments of grace from a fake great ape.

Blue morons slide
Into Mormon jovial footsteps.
Derided ice forestry into
King's cloaked ancestry.
Which makes family the
Opposite of attraction.

And yet here I am
Talking to you,
Eyelight through obelisks
In hotbox barricades.
Hiding behind
A past of newspapers.
Headline reads 'ONLY DEVINE'
'TRADE REIGN WARNS JEWELS'
'PRINCE THREATENS ECONOMY
... AND CROWN.'

Wipe the frown,
Draw the sword.
Don't be ignored anymore.

Housed in a walking stick
the King stuck a feather duster at the top
fancied his fourth wife and tickled his fifth.

Ten mutton chops later
a gourd of red blood wine
two scoops of brain cutlets
he was feeling better.

With a bowl of imported shrimp in hand
battered and buttered
with chilly powder ,a chilli *****
he was getting excited at the prospect
of knocking his seventh wife
but a flagging spirit ruined his *******
and he commanded the courtyard maidens
to dance like Queen of Sheba
on the High Priests entrails
as the music beat a violent end
to heads rolling in the dusty desert sands.

Done.
He counted the bowed heads
and picked the odd number out
to even his court ****.

The cradle of all creation was found ten yards
away in fossilised rock after five years of
guessing it must be around here.

Author Notes
Parody of procreation.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

for
we only
meet on Thursdays.
Lamb chops, veal cutlets
and back to separate worlds.

Had
I not
The slightest courage
Just to tell him
What he could plainly see?

Why
Had I
Bled so long
In a fruitful marriage
When I truly wanted meat?

One
Fell swoop
Of the blade
Lets my heart know
That some things cannot be.