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Today’s lesson on the pad

Showing a new guy how to stake grades

So we paced out a grid and pounded in stakes at semi-even intervals

Always picking up where someone else left off

Using their existing grid, we paced ~16 m in Northing (a metre is approximately equal to a yard)

Again, using the existing grid, we paced ~13 m in Easting

Then I asked him to pace out the hypotenuse, it was ~21 m

The grid was for the most part at right angles to each other

To show the new guy how Pythagoras came to his theorem

I scratched a triangle in the crushed aggregate

On the side of the x-plane I scratched 16 m and on the side of the y-plane I scratched 13 m

The diagonal received a 21 m

Out came the notebook

16 squared plus 13 squared = ~21 squared

Using my iPhone calculator

256 plus 169 = ~21 squared
425 = ~21 squared
square root of 425 = ~20.6155281280883 or ~21

Then I grabbed my stick to scratch out a head, body, appendages, and finally a circle encompassing my proto-Vitruvian dude

Never thought work could be this fun!
Written in the stars

Published in High River in the year after the flood
ya see, in the outside world, people should respect everyone, and if ya can’t

do that, you should be declared mental, but i might sound like a rich arrogant *****

i don’t mean to sound like a rich *****, because i give money to world vision

and i was a bit of a ******, because in spite of hearing that saying, i would do anything

for you, even slit my wrists, it might be that i disagree with saying those kinds of things

maybe because i love my life too much to do so, ok, you see, i remember those days

in the psych ward, back in 2004, for killing the family cat, or in 2013, for throwing my stuff

over the balcony, even my iPad, and i made dad mad, but dad, must have known he was

going to die soon, so he backed away, i don’t like arguing with my parents, i just found

them hard to get your say, like, i thought dad was treating me like a robber, or someone

who is committing crimes, actually i only went to the pubs, cause nobody judged me

well a few did, especially when i wasn’t that good, but i wanted my parents to respect me

i liked eddie, back then, sure, he teased me, but teasing is northing, i am sure i wasn’t going

to get fought, if people i knew left eddie alone, but all he did, was take my woman, and

only weirdos, worry about losing old women, and i was feeling popular when i hung around with him

it’s sort of the same with steve, he was angry, and stole my stuff, we played pool, pool, is cool

and we went to big bars in the city, and i remember going to the private bin with him, and i slept

on his lounge, yeah, it’s only a ****** neighbourhood, because they ain’t getting a fair go

some of the things i like in life, is people who leave money, to cure *** or cancer and

i like the kiddies getting a bit of money in children’s charities, i give, beggars on the street, if i got it, i give

i like people to donate food or money for the homeless, and i would appreciate when i work at common ground

i can cook them two hot meals a week, and entertain them with my poetry, you see i hated those situations

in the HDU, like a teenage girl jabbed me with a fork, because, i can help young dudes, keep out of places like that

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE HDU, IS NO PLACE FOR THE YOUNG, they would be scared of the yellers

the bikie ripping the TV, off the wall, and my family disagree with me doing this,telling stuff of my past, but

i feel i have to do, i don’t want their approval, i just want the gunk out of my head, i am a writer, an artist

and a youtube entertainer, in the last 2 days, i have been hearing voices of people calling me a woosey

and i don’t want to think i have to be careful, mind you, i don’t want to get fought, fighting ain’t my thing

dad laughed at my intelligent, i wasn’t aware that he was saying my fun in fighting is over, or i wasn’t

aware, he only laughed, at the spur of the moment, i am worried people are treating me like dad

all that fighting is in my past, and i don’t want to be told to shut up, the witch doctor and steven bradley

who murdered my last two reincarnated lives, were saying in a voice of the ****** at the charnwoon inn

who tried to grab me, saying, hang on, are you the guy from the charnwood inn, and in 2004, i heard

a voice from mark marl or, help me, i wanna get back to bowling, i know now, that is a bogus voice

mind you it could happen, if ya not careful, that was the voice of previous lives and nothing more

i was trying to muck with dad, saying mum is shy, but i found out, that dad preferred to muck with

my brother like that, well, that was the reason why i got jealous, now, laugh if ya want, but i was

visioning dad and mum wanting to do what i did with pat, and treat me like lyle, and i hated that

cause, i am not going to muck with dad like Pat, even if i was lyle, cause i was being young back then

ya know pat had heavy metal, ya know, lyle had air supply and slow stuff, i didn’t know much back

then, and when i was figuring things out, all dad cared about, is himself, i was a strange crazy person

thinking a few kids saying i was one of their mob, would make them be daddies, but maybe they are being

nice, and daddy figures makes them feel great, it makes people respect you, i thought patrick was respected

highly respected, but like most young dudes, some naughty said like a nice old lady and not a terrible grumble ***

and he was very helpful and we had fun together, dad thought i liked life in wood berry, ya know being isolated

well, going to the show was good and going to the football was great, i preferred the footy kids better than

the homebodies, but the truth is, we’re all the same, dad never took me to any footy match, only basketball

and he complained, and as one mate said i am a complainer, not going to give up keep on complaining

i also said a few words behind dads back to the messiah, about his grumble *** frown, i am not shy

to have a few words, as the messiah said, dad is mr cranky, and i looked as i agreed with him

you see, what was about the past in wood berry, forced dad to treat me like a rotten hooligan

i don’t want to go back to the HDU

i don’t want to be shy, i am a writer

i liked dad and mum coming over for christmas lunch at my place

dad looked to deeply into our fights

for me, it was FUCKEN schizophrenia

when i got out of hospital,in 2013, i spent all my money celebrating my freedom

mum and dad got mad, I AM POOR, and need people to understand

I HATE BEING SHOVED INTO LITTLE JOBS

big jobs like theatre, and poetry slams

i still hear dad, cause i believe in the paranormal, he is betty campbell

even if i meant to be angry with him it was because he was mr cranky and i have schizophrenia

i would love them to find a cure for mental illness, but that might be impossible

because mental illness to me, is a trauma from previous lives

saying i am a fool or a clot or anything else

as you might have guessed, i hate people judging me

i am going to ROME TO MOVE on saturday

i know only kids dance, or party, but that is just a clechate

i am going to the show on friday, cool man

i am doing the play again this year

i am cool
Myka  Jul 2019
Night Time
Myka Jul 2019
Rough night
Tough night
Wish upon a star night
Dreams don’t get too far night
Sad night
Bad night
Moonlight through the curtain night
Northing is ever certain night
Deep night
Weep night
Trying not to cry night
I just want to die night
Stress night
Mess night
Run away from here night
Can’t face my biggest fear night
Lightless night
Flightless night
Drown myself to death night
Take my last earthly breath night
Louise Ruen  May 2016
No Choice
Louise Ruen May 2016
Why can't I make you change your mind?
I'm not what you need, you're not what I want.
This obsession has already gone too far.
I'm not a good girl
I'm not even your girl,
and I don't want to hurt, don't want to break no heart
But you leave me no choice

So why can't you just give up?
Isn't my missing smile intimation enough?
Boy, you don't own it
You never even hold it
I'm a stray of grass, and you won't tie or plow me down as long as I can feel the wind,
and I don't  want to hurt, don't want to break no heart.
But you leave me no choice

So don't put your arm around me
Don't tell me I look pretty
I'm sure you look good when missing a shirt
A shame that your head can't keep up
Please, don't force me to play nice when I see no butterflies within miles,
because I don't want hurt, don't want to break no heart
But you leave me no choice.

I'm nothing but trouble for you, northing but heartbreak,
and I don't want to hurt, don't want to break no heart.
But you leave me no choice,
unless you leave me.
Unless you give up, and just let me be a beautiful mistake
Rahwa  Jan 2021
Untitled # 6
Rahwa Jan 2021
I love you marvelously …
And then insufficiently.
But then it’s more electric ,
It’s never static,
So full and cathartic …
But then its demanding,
We both loss our northing,
And then you claim I am unloving.
Michael Matthews Apr 2020
What a night to say goodbye
As I lay my body down to die
I reach my hands toward heaven
Tonight I release all my demons
All the dark things I have done
Things done in the name of fun
They may have come to have their cost
My soul could be many times lost
Begging for my forgiveness as I fall
My screams northing more than demons call
The darkness rises from the ground
For hell is where I am bound
The darkness rises and starts to transform
This darkness is where evil is born

Written by
Michael Matthews

— The End —