Dear spotlight,
i must have died upon meeting
you, that night,
surely, lost my ways when you
befriended me,
your chanels led me to the
nothing i have turned into
and the funs you gave me,
cheered me to sixfeet under
the expensive cars i drove in,
the funcy colours you dressed me,
the bigger picture you made of
me,
made me believe heaven was down
here on earth
the king you made me,all the
greener pastures you fed me
kept me far from the exit door,

Dear spotlight,
you gave me fame, riches and
power,
made me forget my innocent self,
you got me hanging on the
eleventh hour,
contemplating on how i would love
to jump out,
out of the main stream and
continue to daydream
in your arms, i found my strength,
in my strength, i found my pride,
in my pride, i lost my way,
i lost my soul, then i lost my wife,
but before i lose my life,
i want out!
out of the main stream
and continue to daydream

Don't you want to touch me
Don't you want to feel my pain
Don't you want to swim down
the chanels of my veins
Can't you taste the poison
flowing slowly through the brain
Medication made in Hell
makes one feel like they're insane
Feel the sorrow baked into the marrow of the bone
Feel the lungs gasping for air
just to let out a simple groan
Feel the grip of depression
that comes from drugged induced
The voices nagging endlessly
Telling you there simply is no use
All because of asthma chronic though it be
You haven't given in to one
Hoping someday to be free

From my voice
But not from me
You have a choice
Yet, vexingly

Free will may not be what it seems
Again not from me, strangedly

The voice it chanels simple things...

Embrace the downs
Relish the ups
Easy to drown
But enough is enough

It's upon thee to understand
There's primal prosperity in a giving hand

Simple enough, no its not
Pressures mount, ***** them out
Give, give, give... give what you can

I may suppose that I'm not alone
In spite of immersing in thought' ocean
I may leave,
Without being seen
I may fly
without getting high
But with my heart beaten with your Melody
With my voice getting calmer
And my eyes being needy
Of  changing the memory chanels on T.V.
I may shout & scream
With no voice to be heard
But with a vibration to hit the wall in Third
I may suppose that I'm in cage
But know my friend that I'm a Passenger at heart
While I kiss you to proceed!

the idea of tattooing my entire back
in the tube map of London
came to mind
only moments ago after dreaming up
a host of bodies
semi-naked with other sort of signatures
no inflicted upon
the left-hemisphere of the brain

as such, also pondering the idea of shifting
the view of the world
away from

                           N

            W                     E


                          s

and as such to not combat the asymmetry
but rather embrace it
two islands of water in my cranium
pushing away at
and exploding grey matter into vacuums

not unlike the carnivorous protein of
Alzheimer
                 Alz Heinz
or at least this is me rummaging in Martin's
head
looking for clues of me
and him in me
or rather nephew now reduced or inflcited
the raise of being simply "friend": kolega -

kolega Alz Heiz
                            kolega Alz Heinz

now i see the world like i see London
to the south of me the great whirl
of Thames - old water old father Thames
with son Charon
                      not admitting me to the Oval
to watch the cricket

punctuated with nervous breaths after a micro-dosage
of the forest
in newspaper talk of a celibate tree
found circa 130 years ago
cloned many times
but not having a mating partner
must **** for a tree... currently standing priestly
in Kew gardens i believe...

the spitfire pilot who dreamed of flying
aged 17
crashes after a stunt gone bad
the Reddit guy with the red lamp
who thought he was actually married to his highschool
sweetheart
who had two kids
and never missed a day of work
living the white picket fence dream O America
instead playing football
hit in the head so bad that the multiverse
manifested itself in his head

some cruel prank best not mention God
and if i do by god
from the age of 21 a bad bad
bad trip that lasted well over ten years
now everyone in the house
is writing

i am writing
my father is writing an invoice
for Knights Asphalt for the work currently
undergone at Victoria
mother is writing a pPełnomocnictwo

                  to ensure care is taken of Martin
that his hard earned money
will be spent on his own care
a cruel joke of early retirement plans
spent 2 years drinking and sitting with
grandmother listening to teenage music
i mean if the brain isn't fried
from inactivity
not even a personal diary or reading a book
where will the mind wander
and how will it recline when looking
at van Gogh's painting of the chair
not a chair but THE cHAIR

                 words so close yet far away
symmetric damage to both
hemispheres as if metaphor
for the growing of horns
and in this happy-state obscene
but certainly drank too much last night
and now have the shakes
oh jeez now the slight paranoia of the receeding
high like i thought it was a good idea
or are my eyes just simply glazed
and am i relaxed is writing appropriate
during the daytime if it's not required
formal

i.e. W. H. Auden wrote that only the Hitlers
of the world write at night
but i wonder whether this is not a tease
now my eyes are not red
but like wax and my mother's interruption
to avert my eyes from the screen

'control control to charlie 10'
'charlie 10 radio check'
'yes yes control, charlie 10 radio check'
'loud and clear charlie 10 over'

the idea being did my mother realise
or not the tear of writing the document
rather than: is her son hurting anyone
by smoking the Amsterdam way
the casual not London way of smoking
i.e. **** is smoked in London
in public and at large events with massive
crowds
me and a colleague of mine
agreed that **** is abused like this
and best enjoyed in private
behind closed doors
with music
some whiskey
and enough music to drive a camel bonkers

i mean: she did walk in and asked me
whether the spoke in my wheel was fixed
i went to the bicycle shop last saturday
indefinitely
one ******* spoke
apparently to be finished by thursday
today is monday
and?
a bicycle shop without spokes
plenty of wheels on display
a bicycle repair shop
is more a shop than a workshop
and that's the biggest problem
no supplies of spokes?
what are these, German car parts?
if you can have a supply of rubbers
then surely there aren't that many
wheel sizes which might make you oversupply
on spokes...

but she walks in with £100 and tells me:
you can have it
if you only go to the bicycle shop
now and buy yourself a new bicycle
how much money did dad
give you for your birthday?
£200...
   well then... off you go...

          (but i really did start writing this poem
trying to heal
and i'm going to finish it
mind you i still have 2 hours before the shop
closes)

obviously i spent £100 on two packets
of Sherbet and that's all the way from America
and i kind of like the idea
of **** coming in packets that resemble
sweets perhaps
this isn't drug abuse on grounds of legality
since bought
     but in terms of how it is used
and what benefits reaped then i imagine, yes:

when i first starting writing and had
the straitjacket of poetry on me
my heart was a mush of nonsense my brain
was a much of nonsense
only now can i see the need for prosaic more
than ever
and no indeed people stopped writing
in the straitjacket of poetry within the confines
of what came to pass in the 19th century
and dissolved by the 20th
and needs a reinvention in the 21st

now a call from Lyndon my company rep
and no i'm in no mood for
conversation that's why i believe my eyes
to be wax and *****
and glazed and not even a glass of whiskey
will make them look sober
this feeling of creativity must pass
as the left hemisphere switches off or rather
concentrates on something immediately
that i know poetry is not written like
one works to grease up and find oneself
a juicy duck
or rather hunt for a juicy duck
with no green overalls
not rifle and no hunting dog
like the ones used at stadiums as sniffers
and the sniffers are gentle dogs
because when the police come with their
German Shepherds then
boy do those dogs talk
less bark more talk
less bark more talk

                and my how restless those dogs
are even the sniffers
are restless dogs
after all these are: dogs at work...

hundebeiarbeiten...

            hundebeiarbeiten...

  ­     we have the Germans coming in next week
and i already have my all clear from
the UEFA that i can work the event
so here comes all the pomp and gravitas of
the Champions' League final
            Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund

hmm... etymology of names:

       there-mouth and now i'm thinking it's
a good thing that i didn't go since
this is my day off
but i mean i didn't go to the bicycle shop
because however my mother thinks
it the fact that i started writing again
and i haven't been writing for what seems to be
donkeys' year
since meeting Edie
and in the current variation of me
i'm intellectualizing whatever it might be
in the rubric of relationships
and ***
                            and friendship
and i don't know what else but when i'm also
working on my day off rather
than relaxing with the family might tell you
a lot about me maybe i should have done
something like this tomorrow when
they weren't home
because i feel like i'm going to have to explain
myself

this is like a narrative of a child
or at least i am robbing myself of the biblical
saying in how
it is said of men:

         genesis 2:24

  a man shall leave his father and his mother
and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh

how is that not the case
are we in a shared abode could it be said
that i'm anything more than client at this point
someone who will subsequently cook
dinner
and is this not my own free time to enjoy
my own freedom at least my legs
returned to normal after lying in bed
for a little bit longer

and honestly that experience with the Yorkshire
lads yesterday was mind-boggling
and mind-opening and ego-closing
and ego-crashing ego-destruction
how you can just absorb the energy of the crowd
and work it to your favour
and jeez i was never the roaming cleaner
of my place of work
whereby there was no issue with litter
and how often does cordon 7 call in for cleaners
and ******* bags
and i worked that cordon before
and i took my own initiative and sorted out
the bags myself before
but others who worked that area
would waste control room's time by radioing
in this minor issue that could be resolved
with some personal initiative
jeez
       i never thought i could write about work
that was the antithesis of Bukowski's approach
to work that work is the drudgery
because honestly i think how the Nazis didn't
think because honestly
Jews were a fertile breed of workers
so making fun of that
  they were making fun of that
because there is no luxury time for the scholars
and i mean the jews are the scholastic
people of the world and some less serious
of them sure
they are not the eclectic sort i imagine in my
dreams of worms and books
and bookworms unlike those sandworms
of Dune and more the reality of the Metal Worms
of London
and me travelling in them like some Jonah
mind you
i always held the oceans with distrust
but even then diving i did see plenty of life...

Anahola Beach.
Cannons Beach.
Hanalei Bay / Pier - Black *** Beach.
Kahili Beach - Rock Quarry.
Kalihiwai Beach.
Lumahai Beach.
Makua Beach - Tunnels.
Secret Beach - Kauapea Beach.

    (yes, that was ctrl+c/p
   (some variation on style
(returned to listening to music
after interruption
(paranoia receded
(started raining
(if i was a child receiving money
i would have jumped
at the opportunity
to go get bicycle
but i went today
and the used road bike that
looked **** nice
was already gone
so buying a new bicycle
seems grotesque at this moment
(anything new for that matter
buying something new
rather than used)
seems like a horrible waste of money)
the idea that used goods)
were aplenty once)
and people fought for them)
and now no one is fighting over money)
each earning it

but at a time there was a time where
people had exclusive rights to money
and others had no access to money
but instead: WIKT I OPIERUNEK
(bed and board)
and would be the workers of the household
of a people who were workers
of the world
and these people did exist
and they had a history and architecture
and since architecture is the best
idea of what history is
and a people become
then yes the revival of the Coliseum
i have witness
and i am but a voice in the wilderness by now
maybe i should have been
getting married to my childhood sweetheart
but what is thinking
i don't know: she's with five children
and an older hubby
while i'm the rigid disciplinarian of grammar
because i didn't love her fully
because of her literacy skills or was that our
shared youth
or anything - just not a waste of this afternoon
given it's raining
and yes if i were a kid and received £200
and say i had my own savings in a jar
of pennies and pounds
i would have jumped at the opportunity to buy
that bicycle and cycle happy-mad in the rain
but i'm not a child anymore and
i can't imagine going back
to somewhere where the brain was
orientating itself having spent so much time
in the dark outside of the dark
of the womb
but not like some fetal narrative is even
possible or even supplanting an ego
into a fetus is
   like putting a scorpion into a shoe
and a sock on one's nose: the general gist of:
(i think jyst should be as relevant as gist
and it even looks better on paper
let alone the similarity of phonemes)

  i.3. jy-          gi-                       -st

not station of saint
although both are used as is also st for street

oh **** oh **** oh **** oh **** oh **** oh ****
KAMIKAZE YO
KAMIKAZE YO
カミカゼ ヨ!

                         カミカゼ ヨ!

      I⁴                     and E⁴

since  in the following "magic square"

                             ya yu yo

     ヤユヨ

                  there is no Yadam and Yevie
the other story not told of the genesis of letters
and by Jove the resting place of so many
meanings deposited into Latin script...
unimaginable wonders
and overhearing my Nigeria neighbour
talking
jeez the music is on in my headphones
but this boombox of bellowing
conversations over the phone is unerving
and that time i smoked with him
in the night on the roof outside out
bedroom windows
i thought of Martin
   and his youth living in those communist
flats
    with greenery everywhere
nothing dystopian about it because of the foliage
and popped up ugly hen houses
never mind his youth of spent time
talking with his neighbor out of the window
in the warm summer evenings
sharing stories and smoking cigarettes
the one that lived above him
yes, him, forgot his name and sur
but him i saw him and a few others when
i visited last
and to think they are his peers
and they seemingly congregated to a Wake
but it wasn't a Wake but an Awakening
to see cruel or just fate
have her whims
however to put it fate a cruelty will the justice
or what is a gamble or something
or
           or

too many avenues it would seem...
gently massaging of the face
everyone at work is happy that my beard is visible
again
everyone at work is happy that my beard
is visible again
and i'm happy at work because finally my voice
is visible and can be used
without a loudspeaker
and i'm no longer embarrassed that i sometimes
get tongue tied
because maybe it's because i'm a Londoner
no joking
maybe my bilingualism is a phonetic retardation
from time to time
                   (then the music comes off
and there's the hum of conversation
and no t.v. in the background perhaps this too
the unread messages: i count at least 29)

but oh **** oh **** oh ****
what was actually going to see Kamikaze Yo!
(maybe
oh redemption mother calls and reminds
me to go back and buy the bicycle
and now sobered i will for sure

get some wind in my beard
and in my hair
glide with traffic
but
but but but

oh **** o help me "god":

confirmed work
wembley
7th june
13:30 - 23:15
sign in 12:30

confirmed work
wembley
8th june
07:30 - 20:30
sign in 6:30

confirmed work
9th june
london stadium
06:30 - 18:00
sign in 5:30 (or as close
to it as you can)

                   what did i book myself in for?
a 3 day sleeplessness extravaganza?!
   ha ha: Bukowski and work...
            Mathias Eschlert and: arbeit macht frei; haaaaaa.

p.s.  more like

                                   E


                    n                                        ­            S


                         W

my new compass...  i have to see the world
differently
not like presented on weather chanels
because no the north is not up
or the south down
after all what is n.e.w.s. in space
what is the Copernican n.e.w.s.?
                  
                   best to see the world sideways,
for now, at least.

p.p.s. or perhaps this is mother telling
me to show-off my money
if security staff get teased
and abused at events being called
minimum-wagers
minimum-wagies           etc
if we can get pushed and shoved etc

                        well... sooner rather than later
they'll nickname me: the Negotiator
3 ******* years in this job
and still no physical confrontation ....

              O Leeds O Leeds O Sweet Lords
and Lloyd.