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YA FREAK YA FREAK


WHAT IS A FREAK, IS IT SOMEONE WHO IS DIFFERENT CAUSE THE WORLD IS SO WRONG

IS IT A PERSON WHO LOVES LIFE, BUT DOESN’T TELL ANYONE

I AM NO FREAK, I AM A COOL PERSON, I SIT AND DO MY TAPESTRY

LIKE THE ARTIST YOU CAN SEE IN ME

MY VERSION OF A FREAK IS SOMEONE WHO HATES HEAVY METAL, CAUSE HEAVY METAL IS RADICAL, DUDE

I LIKE AC/DC, AND MOTLEY CRUE AND I ESPECIALLY LOVE MOTORHEAD

THAT IS WHY I LIKED MY FRIEND PATRICK, CAUSE HE LIUKED OR APPEARED TO LIKE HEAVY METAL MUSIC, I AM NO FREAK

AND IF YA CALL ME A FREAK, I WILL BE UPSET, CAUSE, DUDES

I LOVE JUDAS PRIEST, I LOVE JIMMY BARNES, AND THE ONLY REASON WHY I LIKE COMPUTERS

IS SO I CAN KEEP IN CONTACT WITH THE WORLD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT, DOESN’T MAKE ME A FREAK THOUGH

IT MAKES ME A COOL PERSON WHO LOVES HEAVY METAL MUSIC

I WANT TO TAKE THE GEEK OUT OF COMPUTERS, CAUSE GEEKS CALL PEOPLE LIKE ME A FREAK

I LIKE TO PARTY IN CLUBS, AND I LIKE TO GO TO THE FOOTY, AND MUCK WITH THE FOOTY FANS

I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE A FREAK, BUT WHAT IS A FREAK

I TELL YA WHAT IS A FREAK, I AM NO FREAK, I LOVE THE COOL PEOPLE WHO GO TO HEAVY METAL CONCERTS

SURE I AM NICE TO MY MUM, BUT THAT DOESN’T MAKE ME A FREAK THOUGH

I JUST AM A VERY NICE PERSON, PEOPLE WHO CALL ME A FREAK ARE THE ONLY FREAKS

COMPUTERS ARE FUN, NONE OF THIS DOS ****, THAT IS FOR THE FREAKS

I LIKE COMPUTERS TO SHARE MY WRITING AND MY ART, AND TO ENTERTAIN

I DON’T WANT TO BE THOSE QUEER PEOPLE WHO ARE TOTALLY GENTLE, I DON’T DO GENTLE

I DO COOL, AND I AM COOL, I’M COOL MAN, COOL YOU, YEAH COOL ME, I AM A BOY ANYWAY

I KNOW YOUR A BOY BRIAN MMMMMMMMMMM YOUR A BOY MMMMMMMM I AM A COMPUTER **** KID, I AM NO GEEK OR NERD MY MATE

GEEKS OR FREAKS ARE PEOPLE WHO HATE COMPUTERS, CAUSE THEY CAN’T GET PAST THE ADULT

I AM NO FREAK, I AM NO GEEK I LIKE COMPUTERS FOR CREATIVITY YA SEE

I WANT THE HEAVY METAL FANS TO LIKE ME, CAUSE YOUTUBE IS THE PLACE YOU CAN WATCH HEAVY METAL FOR FREE

ANY BAND IS COOL, HEAVY METAL MUSIC IS THE BEST MUSIC OF ALL, TO GET YA SOX OFF AND REALL PARTY HARDY WON’T STARTY

I AM NOT A FREAK, I AM A YOUTUBE ******, AN INTERNET ******, I HATE PEOPLE TREATING ME L;ILE A FREAK CAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS

I DON’T WANT TO GET KILLED OR KIDNAPPED, OR ANYTHING, BUT I AM NOT SHY TO L.OVE COMPUTERS

I WISH THE WORLD WOULD STOP TREATING ME LIKE A FREAK, MY COMPUTER LIKES ARE

HEAVY METAL CONCERTS

LEARNING ABOUT THE WORLD

PUTTING MY ART ONLINE THROUGH ART COLONY

FINDING THE PERFECT PARTY SO I CAN SHARE IT WITH THE WORLD THROUGH YOUTUBE

TO FIND WRITING GROUPS LIKE FOCUS ON FICTION

OLD TV SHOWS I USED TO LOVE LIKE BECKER AND CHARLES IN CHARGE, ETC ETC

I WATCH A LOT OF TED DANSON’S BECKER, YA COULD SAY, I AM A BECKER MANIAC

THERE ARE MANY MORE, I ALSO HAVE SHOWS SHOWING THAT I CAN STICK AT DOING TAPESTRIES, BY INSPIRING PEOP,LE TO BE CREATIVITY

I HATE PEOPLE SAYING I AM TOO WOOSEY TO, TO GOOD ART, BUT OPEOPLE WHO SAY THAT, ARE THE BIGGEST FREAKS AROUND

IF PAT HATES HEAVY METAL,HE IS A FREAK, CAUSE HE HAD A FUNNY WAY OF SHOWING IT, WHEN HE MUCKED AROUND WITH ME

HE GOT ME INTO LOVING HEAVY METAL, AND STOP WORRYING WHAT PEOPLE THINK, I DON’T CARE WHAT PEOPLE THINK

I AM AN ARTIST, I AIN’T NO FREAK, I AM A WRITER I AIN’T NO FREAK I AM A YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER AND INSPIRER I AIN’T NO FREAK

I DO MY TAPESTRY ON YOUTUBE TO SHOW MY STAYING POWER, AND I HAVE STAYING POWER, REAL STAYING POWER

I THOUGHT DAD WAS TREATING ME LIKE A WRITER WHEN HE SAID I WAS LIKE OS, SO TO SPEAK

I AM NOT A FREAK, I AM STILL A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE, WHO IS FINE WITH HIS VIRGINITY

I DON’T CALL ME A FREAK, CAUSE I HAVEN’T HAD ***, I CXALL FREAKS, PEOPLE WHO SAY THEY ARE YOUNG WITH NO SOCIAL MEDIA

I AM ON FACE BOOK AND YOUTUBE, AND I HAVE A STRONG QUOTA ON THE INTERNET, I ASM NO FREAK, I AM NO GEEK

I AM THE COOLEST DUDE IN CANBERRA, AND THERE IS NO DOUBT ABOUT IT

I THINK MY OLD MATES ARE LIVING IN THE PAST WITH ME, EVERYBODY MAKES MISTAKES, EVERYONE HAS THOSEC DAYS

COME ON DUDES, GIVE ME A BREAK, I AM A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE WHO LOVES TO PARTY WITH HEAVY METAL MUSIC LIKE ACCCA DACCA

AND MOTLEY CRUE, AND I WATCH THE CONCERT ON YOUTUBE, DUDES, ALL THE BLASTED DAY LONG

DON’T CALL ME A FREAK, YOUR A FREAK, ESPECIALLY IF YA THINK I HATE PARTYING, I LOVE PARTYING, IT’S COOL FOR ME
you see Steven Bradley and ronnie biggs are destroying the world at the moment

through tornadoes and shark attacks and heat waves and a fire storm in victoria which the

rain couldn’t stop, despite how it stopped, and then ronnie really was having a field day

with the big heat waves attacking the homes of many innocent people, you see Greame Thornes

current life Brian Allan, went to the great ocean road in 2012 and steven bradley used his power

to make every home destroyed, fortunately none of the people died but they are homeless and

that can be worst, well they might not be homeless, but still steven and Ronnie are having a field day

killing off the entire world, and the great ocean road was only the start, you see steven bradley and

Ronnie biggs were starting to make a tornado siege in Texas and demolishing homes forcing people

to be homeless, and then Stephen Bradley said, I have you i have you i have you,if we make the USA

bad, we can make Cronus suffer, and making cronus suffer was the main answer, and then the death

of Stevie Wright, which was made so he can get his hands on ronnie biggs and Stephen Bradley and force them

down but in hindsight, they he can’t stop them alone, and that is what he killed his body, but he had a great life

singing the party anthem called Friday on my mind and Evie let your hair hands down, well he wasn’t the only singer

who died on their way to battle the deadly tornado, you see Lemmy from the band Motorhead was getting sick of the tornadoes in the world

and sang a song to rid the tornadoes away from the after life, here it is

please please please i want the tornado gone

i don’t care how long it takes, it just ain’t welcome here

you see what the world doesn’t know what i know since my death

that all the old criminals down there in christiean hell

are causing problems oh yeah, i want to bring peace

and i want the devil to be calmed

my music was heavy but i ain’t as bad as the great

roninie Biggs and Stephen Bradley, they caused a lot of problems

please people of the earth, please take procautions

if you want to save your home and not want these satan criminals to win, well fine

but the police aren’t against you, please save yourselves

and don’t put the evil ronnie ‘Biggs and Stephen Bradley into the the police mans voices

because dudes it’s hard you see

I am not at all happy oh no not me

you see these criminals were evil, and that is not like my music

we need to calm these christians who think loud music is the work of the devil

i think i see Ted Bundy, and he is still killing despite being dead

and osama is having a field day making you guys hate muslims

dudes, all this isn’t easy to beat, like my mate Stevie Wright from a a band called the easy beats

we need to get together and stop these evil criminals,

because the only way if we can find eternal happiness is if we all worked together

please please please stop all the world, like heal the world and make it a better place

for me and Stevie and the entire human race, and micheal Jackson who sang that wonderful song

make this universe stronger for you and me, and i must tell you, stop evil stop evil

stop the evil spirits from terrorising our world, you see as i played my guitar really loud to hopefully calm Ronnie and Stephen down

I know it’s the weather, and i know it ain’t believable, but believe me, i wanted to die, to save the world from evil spirits

and this is causing a lot of problems with every member of the earth, and the earth can be destroyed if we don’t stop the evil

the way you stop the evil is get yourself fixed and think about your actions and get rid of the brian Allan word protectaselfer, ya know

all they care about is protecting themselves and not give a **** about anyone else and Stevie Wright sang

we are going to have fun on new years eve la la la la la la la la la

get with the girls who are so pretty la la la la la

and don’t get too drunk man it’s not real cool, it just takes the man out of you

and as we are getting close to new years eve, we are hoping that nothing known to man takes away the problems of nye

and Lemmy and Stevie wright get together to create the peace of this entire earth, and tara is starting to cause problems

with the earth, saying our future is going to be bad, when the world is too wrong for Tara

so Lemmy from Motorhead and Stevie Wright gathered together on Jupiter where Stephen Bradley and Ronnie Biggs are

to force the tornadoes to not cause too many problems, but bad guys are powerful up here, and the best thing to do is

just be yourself and protect each other on earth and enjoy themselves and stop the reign of evil which is happening in the cosmos
Nigdaw  Jul 2019
Midlife Crisis
Nigdaw Jul 2019
I bought some Dr. Martens
a leather jacket to go with
T-shirts, logo'd
Nirvana, *** Pistols, Incubus

but what I wanted to buy
was the swagger
the intense feeling
of not giving a ****
I'm going to live forever
and there's nothing you can do
about it
invincible
with attitude
spitting in the street

I used to watch The ******
Motorhead
Conflict

I was there as the Police
went in ******* horseback

but the only attitude I found
was the young kid serving
looking me up and down

thinking

midlife crisis
you fat, balding
grey haired old ***.
Hey, I'm not a lumberjack, or a fur trader there's only one pelt I'm interested in....
I don't live in an igloo or eat blubber, or own a dogsled Global warming has taken all the snow away....
and I don't know Jimmy, Sally or Suzy from Canada, i do know Partel, Kareem, Xi Chein and Steve
and they're really really nice.

I have a Prime Minister who is *******, not a president.
I speak English and a little French, not American though we like to mock southern accents...
And I pronounce it 'aboot, not about...

I can proudly sew my country's flag on my backpack along with with motorhead and misfits patches...
I believe in peace keeping, not policing unless you count the G20...
diversity, not assimilation, unless it's the borg...
and that the ****** is a truly proud and noble animal and a bald one is truely a wonder to behold...
A toque is a hat that douchbags wear all year round, a chesterfield is a couch that my dunken friends sleep on,
and it is pronounced 'zed' not 'zee', 'zed' unless its Zebra because Zedbra sounds stupid!!!

Canada is the second largest landmass that can be pilfered by multinational conglomerates!
The first nation of hockey!
and the best part of North America... except vegas!

My name is Josh!!
And I am Canadian!!!
EH?
THE ALLAN FAMILY STORY


YOU SEE BRIAN ALLAN WHO WAS BEING TRAPPED BY THIS TRAPPER DUDE

DECIDED HE WILL TRY AND BE A YOUNG DUDE AND GO TO THE NIGHTCLUB

AND SINK A FEW JIM BEAMs DOWN HIM, MIND YOU, EVERYONE WAS CELEBRATING

THEIR SUCCESSES AND FAILURES AWAY LIKE NOTHING FLAMING ELSE AND

BRIAN WAS SO MUCH INTO ASKING HIS MATE PAT TO GO TO THE NIGHTCLUB

WITH HIM, BUT HE WAS SO MUCH INTO GOING TO THE AUSSIE DAY BBQ, WITH HIS

FAMILY, AND WHETHER THAT WAS A LIE OR NOT, BRIAN ALLAN DIDN’T CARE, AFTER

NOT UNDERSTANDING 5 TIMES, HE FINALLY RESPECTIED PAT, CAUSE, HIM AND PAT HAD

A LOT OF FUN TOGETHER, YOU SEE WE BLASTED HEAVY METAL, LIKE TWO WILD MENS KIDS DO

AND I REMEMBER AS WE WALKED DOWN THE ROAD WITH OUR STEREOS, SINGING

ELO’S DON’T BRING ME DOWN OR TWISTED SISTER’S WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT

AND ME AND PAT WERE BLASTING THIS MUSIC TO WAKE UP THE OLD TIMERS

THEN BRIAN ALLAN WAS WALKING HOME, AND WAS A BIT WORRIED ABOUT BEING MUGGED

LIKE ALL YOUNG DUDES DO, ASKED HIS MATE PAT TO WALK WITH HIM, YA SEE IT’S NORMAL

FOR PEOPLE TO BE SCARED OF THIS, AND ESPECIALLY WHEN MY LAST 2 LIVES WERE TAKEN FROM

THE EARTH AT AGE 8, THAT IS WHY I LIED LIKE THAT, YOU CAN’T CHANGE THE PAST, SO WE PLAYED

OUR MUSIC LOUDLY, SAYING WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT, WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT

WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT, ANYMORE, YOU SEE WE HAVE THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE IT

YOU SEE WE HAVE POWER, AND THIS ARMY MAN WILL USE IT, TO SAY WHAT HE WANTS, IS THAT I DON’T BELONG

AND WE’LL HEAD OFF TO BARACK FOR THE CANBERRA RAIDERS, AND THE CANNONS, AND CHEER FOREVER

SAYING, RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP

AND THE SAME HANDCLAPS FOR THE CANNONS,

CANNONS CLAP CLAP CLAP CANNONS CLAP CLAP CLAP CANNONS CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP

AND BRIAN WAS BLASTING BRIAN’S STEREO REALLY LOUDLY, ON THE MUSI OF MOTORHEAD AND TWISTED SISTER

AND THEN BLASTED THE MUSIC OF JIMMY BARNES AND NOISEWORKS, AS WELL AS THE ROLLING STONES

EVEN ROD STEWART, GOT A MENTION TOO, JUMPING JACK FLASH IS A GAS GAS GAS

YA SEE BRIAN ALLAN HAD FUN WITH PAT, BEING SHOWN ALL OF PAT’S HEAVY METAL TASTES

YOU SEE HEAVY METAL IS REALLY REALLY COOL DUDES

AND AT THAT TIME, THE ONE THING I LIKED ABOUT HAVING PAT AS A MATE, IS HE NEVER GOT REALLY CRANKY AT MY FACE

I READ INTO A TIME HE WAS SICK OF ME, BUT HE WAS NICE ENOUGH TO KEEP HIS TEMPER DOWN, I ADMIRE THAT

I AM NOT LIKE MILHOUSE, I AM NOT WANTING TO AT LEAST LOOK GAY

NOT THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG WITH BEING GAY, IT’S JUST NOT ME TO BE GAY

ME AND PAT WERE TWO HEAVY METAL JUNKIES, AND NOW I AM A YOUTUBE ******

YA KNOW, I SHOW THE WORLD HOW MUCH I WANNA PARTY, I AM NOT LIKE MILLHOUSE FROM THE SIMPSONS

EVEN IF YA WANNA BE LIKE NELSON FROM THE SIMPSONS

I HEAR DEAD PEOPLE, I CAN SEE THE DEAD, I AM A BUDDHIST WHO BELIEVES IN REINCARNATION

I SEE DAD IN THE BODY OF ELIZABETH CAMPBELL,

YA SEE ME AND PAT LAUGHED AT ALL THE CRAZY PEOPLE AT OUR SCHOOL, IT WAS ****** FUN, DUDES

ME AND PAT, PARTIED, ALL THE NIGHT, GOING TO NEW YEARS PARTIES AND TO *** BLACK AMUSEMENT ARCADES

AND MANY MANY MORE, WE WERE COOL KIDS THE COOLEST KIDS AROUND THE COOLEST KIDS THAT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN

WE DRINK JIM BEAMS AND A FEW NICE COLD BEERS, AND CHUCKING METHANE ALL OVER THE DEAD

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS DEATH, EVERYONE REINCARNATES WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A COKE WITH PATRICK, I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A COKE WITH PAT

WE DRINK IN MODERATION, AND WE GOT HOME AND TRIPPED OVER OUR CAT

WE DRINK IN THE TOWN AND COUNTRY, TO GET THE ATMOSPHERE SO RIGHT

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A COKE WITH PATRICK, AND PARTY INTO THE NIGHT

YEAH, BRIAN AND PAT, 2 HEAVY METAL WANNABES, FROM THE 1980’S, D U D E S
SB Stokes  Jun 2015
Kirby Cove
SB Stokes Jun 2015
to the tune of guitars, mandolins,
bagpipes, cheap coke & hairspray
Freighters crest the punk-washed waves
the sun shines out
unaware and uncaring
Our tiny animal foibles
behemoth sub-audible
military choppers
chop the air
The air, no offense, much better
on it's own
sans commentary or guitar-fueled breaks
the promise of returning surf
silent acceptance by rock and sand
Again and again, we return
and it returns to greet anew the day
again the sun and
more importantly, the moon

And here, right here I am
phone calls and photographs be ******
to live, to breathe, and be free
this is the gift we share
the covenant we acquiesce to
life's contract:
Be here now
and then be gone
Good work done
and done again

to acknowledge human order
to rever and accept
to create, not destroy
despite what might have come before
or will come again after
Be ****** or choose not to
This is our secret
our secret treasure
kept right here
within earshot of the bored gods
spread out like bleached wood
our foibles, our suspicions,
our struggles
our gallant moments
in sunlight or in shade
we persevere and
look **** good doing it

Oh, the momentary glory
The ecstasy of our
reciting invincibility to one another
like religion or science
we accept it and trust it
and, therefore, it is true
if only for a moment

the laughter subsides
and what does it leave us?
the exhalation of waves
on shores unnamed

Things we hold so close, so near
clenched with inescapable fear
that this might suddenly end
lights out, curtain down
a dejected sigh, a knowing frown

This great place, this great land
Oh, the metal in my days
and in my hands
There was a time when
I would worry, I would fret
and wonder at what
each gesture meant
But now so much more I know
of the secret songs of our beloved coast

to think that somehow
we can digest all this
parse everything that befalls
such a joke, it is to laugh
in the shade of the cove
far from the mast
It is no joke, but more
to laugh, not to cry,
nor cower back

OOF! WHOO!
sunning & living & loving
just so
It is our way and all that we know
amid handclaps & footfalls
among cliff faces & sheer falls
we shine so solitary
& bright among the world
and its fashions

The thrill of standing so tall
against inhuman scale
its momentary humor
our highlights & travails

So much meat to manipulate
against surf & sail
from the privilege of the cove
friendship against the rocks
winds and darkness
Huddle, you beloved masses, huddle

The schooners schooning
the bay accepting
lucky our lives absorbing
the glory, yes
the glory, I said it
THE GLORY
of living today
like a grown-up
with a robot with its
hand up

Oh, the exertion
of simply being human!
Constructs of strobe lights
& nonesuch!
We claw, we dance,
we construct the armature
of the ridiculous!
We strive, we fall, we climb
imagined walls
What excellent detritus!

And now the chill descends
the shade the cove knows
only as a friend

I sit alone
construct these lines
wishing for lost loves
amid shade, sand & brine
sunken mermaids in my mind

I love the threat
they present
For me, ironically,
it's all in words
I share the secrets
that the tide keeps
in surf & loam

I look at technology
& I look away
that's how I know
I'm human
how I know
I'm not completely lost
not completely
without animal

All we can hope for
a pumpkin at sunset
& not being pathetic
with people that love us

Yes, it's a lot
good weather and foul
beacon of human remembrance
It's all we can ask for & should

(Oh, Dan Langton
how much you've simply
taught me
thru words, sure
but just as much through
sly looks & laughs

Portland you're all
houses and woods
and there's always ****
to do: so tender
to women "Beat me!
Oh Bob, beat me!")

& Motorhead prevails
on the Golden Gate coast
away from the campground
our shared & secret cove
From the book *A History of Broken Love Things*, Punk Hostage Press (2014).
(alternately titled: perp hosting everclear discord)

jump'n jack flash ("hot for teacher")  
     halen from three doors down
     tells me "go ask alice"
in chains about jane's addiction,

     which haint no green day natural bliss,
but super ***** ping
     cheap trick tripped up mendacity,
     where motley crue crew

     doth abba sol lute lee
     get feted among stone temple pilots,
     overhead foo fighting, droning, buzzing
     b52's chauffeuring  prince, Queen Bee Latifah  
     (and their entourage), thru aerospace - criss

crossing the boulevard of broken dreams -    
     rem mem bring diss
dishabille jester, who points a goldfinger,
     and also nods a golden earring,

while keeping arms akimbo
holed at this crowded house,
     in Orlando spurs dawn
     ting idea to tie a yellow ribbon round

     the ole oak tree (with a pink bow
tie), while devo
shin hull lee gesture ring feigned emo
shun null rescue toward brother matthew scott

     (turf riff hick guy), he monitors fo'
the opening royal wedding,
     as feted groomed consanguinity linkedin    
to mother Mary (i.e. thee Judeo -

     Christian bartered bride)
     all a day glow
majestically evoking, an electric light orchestra
     showering hall and oates domain ***

varying kaleidoscope,
     sans manifold dramatically,
     viz scintillating from indigo
girls deep purple raiment (strobe light effect)

     court of king crimson entrancing guests
     with somber non joe
king poise zen awaiting know
wing lee on cue to issue marching orders,

     whence proclaimers salutary formidable low
worrying church fathers regarding im mo'
mod dissed flagrantly loosening mandate re: no
     longer requiring chasuble couture accouterment

imposing a breach pro
pushy hating king crash test dummies
     pleasing secular status quo
bull heavers delivers crisis within liturgical credo
     cleaving via row

ting stinging viz liturgical heart felt
     iron maiden motorhead engine
     aired 21 gun salute amidst
     rose soundgarden mutiny    

qua parochialism creates woe
begotten lachrymose kinks
     on black sabbath sowing yo
yo wing confusion as cream colored police chief
     Hieronymus Bosh heads to ground zero.
Nigdaw  Feb 2023
omelette
Nigdaw Feb 2023
eggs
jug, broken shells
in the sink
Radiohead wails OK Computer
from Alexa archive
Jack glugs from a freshly
unsealed present from my wife
am I hip like Motorhead
or just another tipsy old dad
I wonder what Urbex explorers
would discover if they
crawled through my letter box
into this mess of a kitchen
onion makes me cry
something I never did
as a child
cheese and ham
how much **** can I cram
into this frying pan
an alchemical cupboard
of herbs and spices pervades
my sense of smell
am I brave enough
should I have beans
I’ll only eat half a can
people are starving somewhere
out of date packets call
do you feel lucky punk
but sliced beef for **** sake
who can resist that
a forgotten sandwich
never made
the truth in the pan
unmixed ingredients
never mind says bourbon head
it’s all the same
gas ring ignites
north sea pipelines
fishermen risking their lives for
for Brexit quota lies
the fiery grill, another bourbon
once you pop
small one in a big glass
carnage of packet autopsy
for the morning after
waits
boy.

those caveman days were brutish, nasty, short and rough.

     ear splitting cacophony felt like listening to partying beastie boys with smashed face on a vampire weekend competing with deafening leopards roar rin n rush shin version of hells bells, inxs of pulp fiction sung backwards by cold play, or a brutally nasty yet thankfully short version per youtube video drowning out beach boys winking in the hood.

     loud quiet rioting !@#$ growls shook bats overhead when this grizzled papa bear disturbed (like twittering angry birds), and forced to wake prematurely from hibernation set his seething animal anger to boil, and smoke to issue from his jack rabbit *** nine looking don Quixote ears.

     argh.

     the gumption from this then profoundly gap toothed, high browed, red necked ursine, viperous spouse getting  one swiftly tailored kick in the bony **** sent me flying like a twisted sister careening forward into out of the summer time sadness air back to the future.
     right then n tha hair, earth, wind and fire convinced this **** sapiens he became gratefully dead.

     upon immediate and most unwelcome exposure therapy to the arctic blast, this mama’s and papa’s boy (by george) was in no mood to tangle nor play footsie with mother nature.

    i  wanted to whip the hide when needles of miniature aeroplane shaped snow white slippery buckshot elements of style kissed, pierced and smashed against his face from those shoddily made flimsy animal clothes that barely kept him warm. lucky for that vat of midnight oil, which shrouded me in n wispy pearl jam pelt.

     tears for fears spilt like pearl jam (like 10,000 maniacs bursting from a soundgarden or highly revved motorhead during a black sabbath)
     stop crying bellowed.

     wah.

     without a shadow of a doubt, these beatle browed monkeys (strewn by denim dog gone hooligans), who cawed like sum Cajun gumbo baboons for a banana split Sunday.

     anyway, i practically froze off mine scrawny ****.
     dang! ooh!
     how purty!
     my oh my!
     a cute deer!
     out came the bow and arrow.

      the feathered lancet described a nike arc with a nike swoosh.
      bulls’ eye!

     upon uttering "hey lucy i am home", the little beasts tore their sharp nine inch long nails into the soft raw doe!

     now compare the above paragraphs to this technological age.

     no way, no how does this domesticated simian relish expending any ounce of energy.

     without the need to leave the comfort of my warm bed, a click of the remote can provide immediate needs at these fingertips.

     why dress (perhaps just a coat of armor), when breakfast, lunch or dinner delivered via robot.

     bathe?
     this waterbed doubles up as a washbasin.

     ah.

     how in the name of judas priest could our ancestors enjoy feeling like a beast of burden? who says you cannot always get what you want? alice cooper in chains? beastie boy george cinderella? eddie money? freddy mercury? iron maiden? lana del rey? madonna? pink floyd? quiet riot? soundgarden? yes! the entire motley crue!

     yeah! obvious, I aint no luddite period! this creature of habit would never give up his pad (shaped like an oversize ipod) and forego any of his labor saving devices the only way to take away these cherished, idolized, prized possessions? you would have to pry these buzzing, flying, whirring gizmos loose from my cold dead fingers!

     don’t get your doggies with dimples hopes up!
     i aint planning to cross the river styx anytime soon.
     maybe not even in this lifetime!
     ha!
     so there!
     nor best ye *** any ideas to boot me from this tear rest trial plane, and put me six feet under.
     capisce?
     comprende?
Methinks hmm, perhaps
I admittedly self plagiarize and quite aware
aforementioned amalgamated, conglomerated,
fabricated, jerry rigged, and organized
eye gripping titled
poem already aired a year plus ago,
though revisiting said theme
downplayed now as thoughts blare,

though similarly filched content
(pertaining to other literary endeavors)
invariably glommed electronically
(digitally remastered and remixed),
nevertheless gobbledygook enigmatically
jerkily, and quirkily communicated,
sans trademark Pi Seine (seen) fishtail career
as applies to uber secreted questions.

This chap challenges himself,
an immense task I dare
unleash unbounded kickstarting euphoria
within psychic calm and weal
with a healthy dose of logorrhea
scowl unintentionally anonymous reader
mine re: noun verbosity doth ensnare
though oft times obfuscation veils merely

a black hole sun (son) prominence
asthma faux eminence amber gris
long ago didst flare
aware if chance encounter
in a dark alley coal less sing
burning eyes fiercely glare
yet, an explanation
would be proffered to hear.

Most instances when I initially seat
myself priming creative literary juices to flow,
an unspecified number hours elapse
before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh
NASA hiss (Onassis) revelation transpires
witnessing, this scruffy, prickly, grow
tusk long haired woolly creature
out malm mouth drool dripping
trademark characteristic viz
pencil neck geek
madly scratching itchy hairs

dotting chinny chin chin of
garden variety generic hobo
hook huns hitters hymns elf
tubby frank and ernest poet;
home body (nowhere man);
beetle browed fool on the hill;
common everyday fluky,
nippy, nap noopy common Joe,
just biden his time,
whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea
comes home to stir the roost.

(Hard boiled eggheads merely
scrambled random thought fragments
at that stage) scrunching brow
activates laser focus,
a scattershot burst
of tangential threads populate
formerly barren tabula rasa,
sans, Lenovo external screen
once again defying (tomb me
akin to some eternal mystery),

trucked since time immemorial
inexplicable, that sudden ignition
asper cerebral automatic
catalytic converter kickstarter
(hmm...perhaps cogs and gears
housed within medulla oblongata)
foster fecund fertilization,
an inexplicable phenomena, I dune hot know
explanation, but upon advent
whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate

coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life
when there appears just the merest hint
of fledgling wispy notions strive similar
to ***** cells fervently whipsawing vis a vis,
via flagellation motility misfits
and false starts before this crotchety scribe
mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea
congeals, expresses, and forms
grandiose manifest destiny
mentioned above i.e. ***

Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis
seems like a versatile
self determining Motorhead
(ace of spades) tour de force,
whereat fingers of the left hand
move of their own volition spilling forth poe
whet tree once expanded Leaves (of Grass)
finds me Waltzing Whitman nigh hick cull
tickled pink with a soft after glow.

This penchant spurring confabulation
explaining (feebly) zest
yours truly experiences
expatiating honest to dog ness
figuratively go win west
hoard (word) ** seeking
mine own mother lode acquired,
via verse a tile material undergoing
electric kool aid acid test
incorporating rigorous (mortise
and tenon constructed) adverbial quest
which wondrous, whirled,

and webbed woven semicolon aided nest
reinforced with double entendre
tongue in cheek jest,
whereby multiple interpretations
(ala mode literary splotchy Rorschach test)
tenants in common beau geste
ma bell heavable own home spun faux
Cambridge Analytica
Jimmy Crack corn and I don't care
gimcrackery defaced facebook best
bite, with absolute zero
data snatched aye evasively attest.

— The End —