Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.

Bonkers? BONKERS?! Bonkers you say?!
I'll be completely wonkers for it is written upon my grave.
Until the moon turns to sun and the bearded woman shaves
Bonkers and wonkers until my final day.

Loud? LOUD?! Loud you say?!
I'll be forever loud for being quiet is a shame.
To whisper is to keep secrets and secrets shouldn't be said!
If not loud, then silence! Silent like the dead. 

Stay loud, and bonkers, and wonkers, and silent
Be afraid to be public and amusingly private
Stay creepy, and hushed, and awkward, and such
I promise you'll like it.
Very, very much.

I hadn't been there in ages, hadn't visited, I had no reason to
But then the Covid virus struck and Dublin where I was working was put into quarantine
I wasn't allowed to go up there anymore to work,
And I had no computer at home and no broadband/ WiFi at the time
So they sent me down to the Old Town
It was nice driving down the motorway, it was Autumn and the leaves they were all changing colour
The different shades of red, brown green and yellow
With the sun shining on the mountains and on the bay
It felt almost like I was going on my holidays,
The Old Town it had changed so much, there were all these new buildings,
Retail parks on the outskirts, hotels, new schools, civic buildings... coffee shops
It was lovely and clean and tidy
Like those living there were really proud of it,
The old town I'd known it was there also, in the background, a bit dusty now
There was the big old gothic church my Dad used take us to, to Mass some Sundays
There was the Port and the big ships along the Quay
There was the secondary school I was meant to go to... had we stayed...it looked old, a bit dilapidated now
I wondered was it still being used as a school,
In the Main Street there were still old names of shops that I recognized
The shoe shop where my Mom used buy us shoes
The chemist where my brother got his glasses... the Bakery
The cinema where we seen our first movie "The Magnificent Seven", it was all done up now... all different...
In the office things were... well...weird! ghostly!
A big modern office and some days I was the only one there, just me all on my own
Was like something out of a Sci-fi movie
Other days maybe two or three might come in to join me
All the others of course, they were all working from home,
Often I'd find my mind just filling with old memories and nostalgia...
I could hear the old ghosts calling, calling me to go back
I knew... I knew I had to go back there
Back to where it had all begun for me
The little seaside village where I was born.

So going home I took the coastal road not the motorway
Just the sight of the headland and the blue mountains sloping down to the sea
With the lighthouse there at the end
Just seeing them again gave me an old feeling of my father, my Dad
And then the village itself, the seafront... all the colourfully painted shops,
Sweet shops & novelty shops, the amusement arcade, pubs and hotels and B&B's  (Bed and Breakfasts)
After being away for nearly fifty years, it still looked...it still looked pretty much the same, was hard to believe
I stopped my car and went into a little supermarket shop to get a sandwich for the next day
As I looked around, I seen these two mature ladies there, they were around my own age
I thought to myself 'I might have gone to school with you once many years ago, one of you might even have been my wife had we stayed here and not moved away
I might have lived a more normal, a different life'
But then I thought 'Life is never that simple, is it'.
Outside I decided to go for a walk, to look around and reminisce.

There was the path, the pavement I used go to school on with my brothers
It was like returning to the scene of a crime
How I used to dread going to school sometimes
There was a teacher, a lady teacher that used scare me a lot, she terrified me so
I remember I got sick in class on several occasions
She put me outside once sitting on an upturned bin
I can still remember sitting there on that bin in the sun, feeling so lost and that I was a really bad boy, wishing I was home
I remember I used to get hives, itches on my skin
My Mom used keep me at home
She was afraid, she thought I'd give them to the other kids
I missed the addition and subtraction tables at school because of this
To this day I still don't know what 7 + 5 is, instead I bring it to 10, I know 5 is 3 + 2, so I say 7 + 3 is 10 and 2 is 12
And I know all the doubles, 7 + 6 is 6 + 6 is 12 and 1 is 13, funny that
How I used to dread going to school
Until that was... until one day I did well at something and I received some praise
Then things seemed to change after that, I wasn't as bothered anymore, I think then I realized I was doing better than some of the others in my class and that seemed to make a difference
I remembered sitting beside pretty little girls who used have lovely pink pencil cases with lots of fancy colourful things
Whereas me I barely had a pencil, a rubber (eraser) and a ruler
They were strange lovely creatures, the Girls with their lovely long hair and their cute little faces...
I remembered walking home on my own, with my little schoolbag on my back with all my books in it
It was such a beautiful place, the view with the beach and the sea and the faraway blue mountains
And yet, I used to worry about so many things
It's like even then it was all about...all about survival...
There was the big Chapel on the hill
Once before the Summer holidays they were looking for altar boys and someone put my name forward
Then on the first morning back to school after the Summer holidays
The teacher said you better get down to the church right away, like fast!! you're on the altar this morning !!!
I was terrified, I didn't know what I had to do, no one told me anything
So there I was on my own kneeling on this cold hard marble altar and it was hurting my knees something terrible
And the priest he's talking about God and the Devil and Evil or Hell or whatever
And all these people, the whole congregation their all staring up at us
And I'm petrified, and I started to get faint and nauseas
The priest had to stop the Mass
I can't remember if I got sick or passed out
I was so embarrassed and thought afterwards I was such a terrible bad person, I knew it'd be all around the school the story.

I walked on...our house was gone, knocked down, where there used to be three houses together attached, now there was only the end house
Our house used to be the middle house
It didn't look right now, the symmetry looked all wrong
It was like there was two missing teeth
Why did they have to knock it down ? I wondered. It saddened me a bit...

At another house I stopped, this used to have a shop, a small shop,  the shop was no longer there
This was my Best Friend's house, all the days we used to play football together in the back garden
Kicking the ball to each other
With our jumpers/ sweaters as goalposts
The first to score ten would win the game
I...I usually won
I always found you easy to read, it's like you only ran in straight lines,
I think you were a bit in awe of me for some reason
Maybe you wouldn't have been my friend if you'd beaten me
How did we become friends anyway, I wondered
I suppose coming home from school
We lived on the same road and were in the same class, we'd have met each other
I had two older brothers whereas you were the oldest
So our families would have had a different dynamic
I remember you had a delightfully silly younger brother
I remember your Mom, she was very pretty, she was a lot younger than my Mom
You used bring me in and give me a meal sometimes, we'd all sit and watch TV
There was a different feeling when I was in your house...a different atmosphere
But when your Dad would come home, he was a bit scary
And I knew it was then time for me to go home
You'd wonder afterwards what the lovely Mom saw in the scary Dad, adults they were a bit peculiar.

We were inseparable in those days, many mornings you'd hear the knock on the door
And the familiar greeting
"Hello Mrs B---, Is G---- in, is he coming out to play?"
We were always playing soccer up the garden
Or down on the beach, going out for miles to meet the tide, catching *****, looking under  stones to see what we might find
I remember we were very entrepreneurial
In the Summer we used collect returnable glass mineral bottles, Orange and Lemonade and Coca Cola
And we'd bring them back to the shop and get money back for them
And then we'd have a royal feast, we'd buy bottles of Orange and bags of crisps and ice cream pops and chocolate bars,
Remember all the different Ice pops there used to be, Choc Ices and Brunches and Orange splits, 99's... Ice cream cones
Chocolate bars, Smarties and Malteasers, Milky Bars and Milky Ways, Dairy Milk chocolate bars, fruit gums and Love hearts with little love messages written on them
We used hang around the amusement arcade, play the slot machines, maybe help some old lady collect her winnings, she might give us a tip
There was the bumper cars and the swingboats and music playing all the time on the jukeboxes
It was the seventies (the 70's) and glam rock was all the rage
Marc Bolan and T-Rex, and Slade and The Sweet and a million others
So many great songs, we couldn't wait to grow up and become one of those amazing creatures we saw on the telly
I'd never lived since as intensely as I did back then,
We'd stay out till late
We were like young hustlers going around,
It seemed the days they were never long enough, all the things we got up to,
We'd Caddy in the local golf course
And retrieve lost ***** from the ditches...
Heh! Remember... remember that time... the Brennan sisters, we were up one day near the school
There was building work going on
And there was this big high mound of clay
So we climbed to the top to take in the view
And then the two Brennan sisters came over
They lived nearby
They were in our class at school, we knew them only to see
They were smiling and laughing and giggling
They beckoned for us to come and follow them
We went wondering what was going on here
They led us back to their house, I think their parents must have been out
One of them came up to us and smiled
And then she pulled down her pants and showed it to us in all its wonderful glorious splendour
It was amazing... incredible... such a sight
Her beautiful...her splendid... her lovely... bare Bottom!
I remember thinking it was like a lovely ripe pear
One of Life's great mysteries had just been unveiled
And her there with this huge impish grin,
When we were going home we promised each other we'd not tell anyone, our parents, not even the priest in confession
About that great vision we'd just witnessed
It was the height of naughtiness
Yea! Those were the days...

I wondered, 'Whatever became of you Old Friend ?
I looked you up online but couldn't find your name anywhere, couldn't find anything about you
Were you even still alive ?
50 years was a long time, I'd barely made it this far myself, and I had a lot of scars to show for it
I thought rather amusingly that I should knock on your door
Maybe you were still living there,
But what was I hoping to find ? I wondered...
"Whose at the door ?", a woman's Voice inside might say,
"Just... just some crazy guy talking about 50 years ago" her dutiful husband would reply
That's probably how it would go
I felt like I was Rip Van Winkle awakening after being asleep for 100 years or in my case 50 years
What did I hope to find
What did I hope to see, an old man now just like myself
And I bet you'd tell me your opinions on the government and the economy
And how the village had changed over the years and how other old schoolmates of ours had got on in life
But No! that's not what I wanted to hear or see
I wanted to see you there again just like you were as a little kid
Your lovely youthful face smiling back at me
And you'd say, "I'll get the ball and we'll have a game, the first to ten wins"
This was what I was looking for, this was what I wanted to hear.

We were very close, were going to grow up together, go to the same schools...college
We'd always be friends
We'd meet all the trials of life together....
I hope Life worked out well for you, my friend
In a way...in a way I almost didn't want to know
If I learned you did well in Life I'd probably only get jealous
I'd start to think I was better than you and that I should have had those things you had
Life, this world it makes enemies of us all... eventually
It divides, is all about competing and comparing... and beating (I suppose).

I still remember that last night before I left forever
We were down on the beach, it was twilight, the tide was coming in... the waves slowly advancing
Just like in life I had no power to stop it, to change things,
I had no say, I didn't want to go and leave you Old Friend
No! I didn't want to go....

Thank you...thank you for being my friend, for being there
For all the time you gave me, I hope I didn't hurt you in any way.

I have a photograph, one solitary old black and white photo of the two of us
We're sitting on a barrel in our back garden on either side of my Dad whose in the middle
You look a bit uncertain, unsure of yourself, probably lost in the dynamic of my family,
I look at you and I think
"Whatever happened to you.... Beautiful Friend, whatever became of you"
And then I look at myself as well, and I think, I whisper
"Whatever became of me as well".

I slide the door open,
she was rightfully there.

It was the room I assigned for her
she had just moved in.

A few spares of her outfit peek out of her wardrobe,
A couple dresses as well
One blue; one red.

At the side is a broom; feather duster and such
Still lying around.

Her personality hadn't changed the room yet.

now

I take my first step in,
she amusingly begins bowing already.

No different than the rest of the furniture she is: tidy, a pleasant aroma around her and a pretty thing to look at.

I greet her, my maid.
I hear those dutiful words, that name: "Mistress".

She's blushing; her arms so obviously tense.

Every footstep I take towards her echoes in our hearts.

...


I lock our gazes- such an adorable and intimidated look.
Her lips are trembling as I get closer: "Mi-" she tried to say.

But my finger was keeping her mouth shut.

"Shhh" a whisper followed by a modest nod from her.

The tension is cut as I slide my fingers down her arm
her gasp held hostage by me.
She could make no sound.

I can't help but giggle.

With that smile I lean closer to her.
To her lips.
I had her captive already, my arms resting on her hips.

"You are my furniture, dear."
"Yes Mistress."

It is all there was before with my kiss
I took over her mind.

Yong Marx, yet to die, jumped
out of an air-conditioned car, a
journey Berlin to Bombay as the
Dream merchant of Utopia
metamorphosed him into a subhuman
white bearded national bourgeoisie.

The third world girl who was climbing a
tree without Motorcycle-
Diaries hung to her clothe looked
like an Engelian mistake possibly
not from Cuba, Zambia or Bolivia,
certainly not a Soviet artefact.

Alienation, self-affirmation and all
unlike modes of production confused
his surplus brain. The dichotomy
of imaginings and reality with the
girl proven anti-thesis kafkaesqued
him an added ****** struggle.

A shift in his struggle with a smile
on her lips gave a  hint of welcome to her
Animal Farm. He did get inside.
The moulded furniture, preoccupied sickle
and the lacking exploitation
left him a disappointing proletariat grin.

She opened her mouth, blue words
did not discharge. Neither the mid wife
nor the revolution pumped her conscience.
He got up, disappointed, alarmed,
cursed the chap who misdirected
to a class-less renewed pattern.

“Comrade” she said shaking his hands,
the blood did stir for a moment but
the fight less slant , **** suits and
her distant reality pained the rationalist.
The amusingly alienated young Marx
jumped into his car and left for utopia.

so kindled in sear summer July,
Upheaval churning in my most stoic feeling frazzled, I am,
Thank GOD for Good Riddance- putting on a thinking cap
And  my Good Instincts prevails..
    Brooding over and praying in silence-
       PEACE and Faith too ; sustained my intertwined...
guts good 'ole meshed up toiled my life.
                   Like a web-gathering digging out into knitted vine..
                     Gotta dance w/ grace even if someone ogling..
                       actin' out like zilch..
                        out there mesmerizing.
Give it all out for sake o' Inamorata  
                  And fervor like ne'er be in paroxysm, a day or two ..
                Rhyme with the melody o' songs
            And Sing it all out on top o' my lungs
      like there's no one's eavesdropping
Amusingly enough as I wantonly be wanted
And feel hurting no more,
  Sleeping in minty pillows, sobbing no more...
    At the time, eventide dusk comes,
     That Beauty; rests indeed, bellows
       Live and let live like it's a bed o' heavenly velvety Roses in this cauldron earth!.ensnared my thoughts together oftentimes,
      Through waylay conflicts
So akin to as DRAMA Momma!
    That another can tote to my table.
      Getting' along just fine witn MYself..
      thus restore my sense of panoramic mindset; - my BLESSINGS- scrutiny on my studies  and my cherub babes who cares as whippersnapper!
    Thou Loves me more than
       of enormous superficial stuffs-
          things that won't last-
            I'm in solitude for soul searching'.
              I am of thy belief that
everyone needs time...
To just Be! @ peace with just MYself!
J

Over in Israel once visiting the holy sites
One morning I took off on my own for a wee wander in the desert
I hadn't been walking long
When I came across this thing sticking out of the ground
It was a kind of strange looking dial with ancient markings on it
I thought to myself this could be a real find
I might get some money out of this...
I started nudging at it with the toe of my boot
But then suddenly I hear this little voice "Go on, pick it up"
So I turn around expecting to see someone there
But there's no one, no one there
Well that's odd I think. So I start nudging at it again with my boot
And then I hear the same little voice again"Go on, pick it up"
I look around and there's no one there only some rocks, the sand and... and this, this prickly looking desert Bush,
I look at the Bush a bit suspiciously and I say rather amusingly not expecting an answer
"Are you talking to me... you talking to me ?"
Well I tell you, Jaysus I nearly jumped out of my boots when the Bush it snaps back at me rather curtly "Well who the hell else would I be talking to, you're the only one here aren't you!!!
A Bush with an attitude I thought, I bet Moses never had to put up with that
Then I thought to myself 'this isn't the kind of Bush you meet every day'.
So I bent down and picked it up, the strange dial
'What is it ?" I asked
"It's a magical time piece" the Bush replied, "it's like the remote control device you use for your TV
It has 3 buttons, a Pause button in the middle, a Rewind and a Forward button
But instead of controlling a TV, it controls Time itself"
"Yeah!" I said a little disbelievingly
When you press the Pause button Time stops and the whole world stops
If you press the Forward button you can go into the future
The Rewind brings you back into your recent past".
'You're not serious', I said.
"So", the Bush continued, "if you're in a queue, say in a restaurant, you can press the Pause button and then you can go right up to the top of the queue and get your dinner and you can sit down and eat it in peace with no noise or distractions, time will have stopped for everyone else
No one will see you, it's like you're the Invisible Man. You can go up and down your whole world just like that".
'And I suppose' I say, 'if I ever need some money I can just nip into a shop and take it out of the till, or go into a Bank..'
The Bush cuts me off here suddenly saying "No! You can't steal/take other people's money
Instead you just go into the future, there you can get all the winning horses and winning Lotto numbers and bring all that knowledge back into the present".
And what's the Past button for?' I asked
"If you have good happy experiences you can go back and relive them over and over".
'That sounds great', I replied. I thought he would have made a great salesman this Bush.
"But why me", I asked kind of conscientiously, "why should I be so lucky",  
"Well you found it", said the Bush, "and I can't use it, I'm only a Bush".
Then he went on "But be careful to keep it a secret, others will suddenly start getting curious and start asking questions
They'll want to know why you're so lucky and successful and where all your money is coming from
Even if you take a wife, she too will probably eventually start asking questions, trying to discover your secret. But remember always keep your finger to your lips, like a Sphinx never reveal to them your secret".
Then the Bush said "I've got to go now".
"You've got to go", I said a bit sadly (I was getting kind of fond of this Bush),"but you're a Bush"
Then he starts burning, becoming engulfed in flames.
"Are you alright!" I said, a bit concerned
Then he says finally "Enjoy your new toy, have a great time !
And he was gone.  And I was alone again.

On a certain July, she found a new home,
Unused to the idea of openness,
An open terrace called her towards itself.
She was nine back then,
And the terrace was bright of sun,
For a long long time.

The terrace overlooked the horizon,
The clouds would merge and submerge,
Forming unadulterated child’s dream,
An imagination growing in itself.

She is seventeen now
She came to the terrace,
And closed herself to the sky-
It helped her, the tears of her first breakup;
She took out a cigarette and smiled her first,
The clouds were of smoke,
And the terrace took away her sorrow

She is twenty five now,
Cigarette butts have cornered their way,
Her father had arranged her marriage,
She didn't know him -
She didn't want to.
That day, amusingly, she didn't cry.
The tears wouldn't come.

Assemblage of marriage went through her home.
Her home wasn't her anymore;
A new family awaited her existence.
She couldn't go to the terrace that day,
And someone locked it inside out,
That night, the terrace flooded with rain,
For a long long time.

Nobody busted the terrace anymore,
The old man had arthritis,
And his wife had passed away.
Clouds still merged and birds still flocked,
It was closed for years.
A taller building got made, it obstructed the horizon.
Now its horizon overlooked windows of nothingness.

Algal invasion and cracked corners,
Weren't taken care of,
Wasteland of wasted memories;
The terrace was of no use now-
A girl who used to run, a teen who used to weep,
A woman, left it all behind.

The old man died, and the house was sold,
The tall building wouldn't let the sun come,
And the terrace turned dark,
For a long long time.

Maybe a girl would run again,
The lock was getting rusty;
Maybe the shade would light up open,
Maybe the life would take a toll,
And the rain and sun would come again,
Maybe her sorrow will  make its way?

there is no song which time could sing
no chords of reason memories string
and though our moments bittersweet
could gnargled **** amusingly..

to kiss the knives in dark of nights
that cut us up in wrongs and rights
carve us into plainer shapes
homely, drier, commonplace..
remember each and every stance
by whims and fancies or by chance,
what drives us part is neither stars
or vague and placid fate of ours
in solace ; peace amid the pain
and spirits worming in embrace
what does soar high in tops of trees
in flash of silent tranquil breeze

through greens of promised merriment
while branching arms in wonders spread
lets close our eyes and find the rhyme
but not in stars, in heart this time.

My great Pillars supporting
This Life I lead - I read.
Entertainers, Educators -
They are not mutually exclusive!
Serious, amusing; Amusingly serious!
Relieving my burdens, wing-like.
You pilot, I'll navigate -
Your talented perfections,
As asymmetrical as possible,
And I'll bring to the table
A fire-brand to highlight
The why of your brilliance.
To me and those other
Gravity wells, unknowing,
But loving all the same - Thanks.
Even the Haters
Have their Lovers - Go figure!
I eight you, fell free to eat me.

Thought about my ex today.
Reminisced about the *** and such.
I know I said that I'd still love that girl,
But Lord knows I've never lied so much.
My ex girl is a good dream about a bad time that I mistakenly got away from.
My ex girl is a good dream about a good **** that could one day ***.
My ex girl is a bad *****, with the thick hips and the *** to match, lips that softly slip so sweet with every kiss; I loved that.
My ex girl has that pretty face that makes necks break and men chase and she knows it.
My ex girl is a flirt and knows I want her bad and she shows it.
She looks at me so deep and sneaks through to my conscience and can switch it off so quick.
My ex girl got the magic; she could make you quiver in just one lick.
My ex girl could get it.
But I can't **** wit it.

My ex girl ain't wife type.
And I'm at that point in life where I'm tryna live that wife life.
So she could be bad all she want and it's sad she don't want that wife hype.
She could be so good but she's bad at being honest; more concerned with "likes" than love.
More concerned with quick *** and rec drugs.
**** gonna catch up to her one day and she'll learn that she should've used that beauty on the runway.
But I'm done bae, no matter how amusingly your beauty continues enthusing me.
But you slept while you couldn't be working to be the One bae.
Done.

Is she not in her most pregnant fullness?
She is pulling out more stops
than we cared to admit were there.
Isn’t she toying with all our favorite passions:
Letting everyone know she rules?
And just the same as when she’s hiding,
but now, unrelenting in uncovering;
unabashedly and amusingly daring
anyone not to notice. Oh yes!
She is here and bigger and badder
than you could hope for.

My, my, those #s, they sure don’t lie!
Yes, we are tested. And yes,
we are brought to the edge of the cliff
and invited to jump. And yes,
we see our highest seven
hanging out to balance and center
for our greatest intended good.

We salute you, Oh Divine Mother Moon!
We bow to your intuitive wisdom
and transcendental truths,
as you align our frequencies
on all dimensions
only to truth.

Lying on my back
Arms sprawled and breath erratic, immobile
Can't even check to see my wounds but they have not gone unnoticed
In hindsight, the fall was too deep
The greatest things in life have gone sour
Laughter joy and love  morphed into pain
My wanting to trust was amusingly a blindfold
But in the end it turned out to be ok because
Whiskey is my rebound

O dear sir, I am a criminal of love
No need for your supplications have I
Make your prayers to the God above
I appreciate a lark and you are amusingly droll
Yet your lust fits me not as a glove
Your love is a heavy albatross
Mine is a lovely white dove

Yes, time it may be short
But your calculations run astray
The numbers and figures you quote I must retort
Be you true or only truly depraved?
Your kind of love is one messy tort
Take your time and take it slow
My smiles into sully frowns you contort

Be you handsome and witty is true
I am almost moved by you and your advance
But there are others, not just you
Nary you be the only fish in the sea
I am looking for a love that is true
Away with you, vile man
You are neither a driver, nor I a simple *****

When in doubt, say something funny
and then smile amusingly.
Everyone will think you’re charming
and they´ll treat you pleasantly.

Talk about the newest scandals
or some spicy love affairs.
But don’t waste your breath on business,
or the value of your shares.

No one wants to be reminded
of the failed economy.
Stick to pleasant subjects like the
latest fashion novelty.

And remember to go easy
on the blasted alcohol.
Proper conduct must be shown
and drunkenness will spoil it all.

Leave the place while you’re still sober.
Give no reason for disdain.
That way you’ll be well remembered
and invited back again.

On a sunny day on the road
You amusingly strode.
When I tried to start a talk
You rudely away from me walk.
I’m sorry for desperately trying
But your arrogance I’m not buying.

Your humour is nothing compared to mine
And with your voice it sounds so divine.
Your eyes are not brown and ordinary
And even if I deny, I want to stare badly.
You somehow detest me, I understand,
I hate not to know what you do not stand.

You don’t let people flatter you,
I know, you’re kind of shy, too.
You lift your ******* with a smile
As I try again not to become volatile.
And when I finally give up and leave,
you smile and come back as ou see fit.

The assembly of words come stepping in the still vagueness of thinking, “Is there something you want to say“ “Something words need saying?”

At times you wait seeming to ask permission “Shall I come along?  Shall I wait here again for you?”
A word slips not sorely but given away, a gift, a challenge, a burden born to itself.

It feels beautiful… waiting. Then it comes another and another like raindrops they begin to flow. Disarranged, compelled, brought to a meaning or question. You resist judgement. You embrace a distant muse rumbling uncomfortable within you
.
Then if you should venture to stray. In an utter silent doom; the likes of being at the bottom of a well overtakes you. Apologetically amusingly as a slight smile words return pleasingly again. The ebb and flow rushing in and out, back again and again in a hurried parlay. Exchanges are made, substituted, let go. Only on paper or by spoken word is the muse emancipated so freely.

So large the mind of it, so softly the sound, as wisps kindly drift into wandering fingers tapping keys in a dance split and crossed over. In hindsight by a little chance you acknowledge grace is blessed whatever you caught in the master mind of transcending lift. You've risen above the fray, above the plain of earth and have fallen deeply in love with the unified thought of mindfulness.

Writing is accelerating, distressing, bashful, and proud, playful and dangerous but always leaves you like a kiss.


BB2015

I walked through the balcony
I saw every room with opened door
I saw people in every room were laughing together with their friends
I started to feel the joy that they had
They played the music so loud
They danced amusingly
They laughed so hard
They were so happy.

Comforting to know
that when the end does begin
it is what you chose

                        Kelly McManus

torpedo ink, some doubts to sink,
another mouthful, bruising to bethink.
without lexical integrity,
they're solecistic towards pedagogy, amusingly distinct.
basking in the blasphemy, armed to the teeth, blameless and bruised,
putting on another comical skit, guiltlessly bemused.
but don't sit next to me at this ball,
i'm pensively perusing the aisles of protocol.
baffled, more putrid than pellucid,
this hobnobbing appalls me, the exclusively reclusive.
a nuisance shindig, conversations far too allusive.
enough with the palaver, and this shallow vernacular,
far too stupid, far too human, forehead now growing vascular.
make way for me to make hastily for the exit, please,
my apologies, but i'm far too pedantic to revel in this cesspit, jeez.

Three pronged leaves stain the footpath.

Yesterday’s rain indents their tridents

Around Shoreditch. Swept away by council,

Amusingly, at the start of autumn.



In October, when morning’s golden sun

Lies shadows on each building you pass,

This building - a holy one - has front steps

That bed the bedless.



In October, the tattooed pavement

On Pittfield Street illuminates with lives

Past and present. Spring’s leaves have now fallen

And left these trident swords to battle winter.

In this episode
of our incredibly long-running
**** show

Our intrepid hero
is at it again
hoping

And we need him
to be
moping

Please contribute
to our sponsors
and tune-in to

All the things
that can go wrong
starting with

look behind you now
with some
didn't see that coming

now on with the show
slow pan
he is at the keyboard

alone
given time to bang
grievances

against deaf dumb
sumbitches counting
syllables and seconds

missing meaning
and lives
oh my

i declare i shant
go there
upside down in time

the scene twists away
from his
provocations

two as far apart
as two can be
on a bed

never more
never more
amusingly alone

he knows
the audience needs respite
needs a laugh

to not squirm turn
away to
you got 'em tv

I have 5:30 to 6pm
to get this down
and get back up

hating but
unbowed
that's a wrap

how are the ratings
we're up? let's
party

I was at a funeral recently, a work colleague, a nice lady
Her father had passed away
I was surprised to learn that she was an only child
And that her Dad...her Dad was a 'steeplejack' of all things
Yea he used to climb up and repair church steeples or build church steeples, whatever steeplejacks do
I wondered amusingly Did he ever try and get her in on the trade
"C'mon up here Sarah, there's a great view from up here" He! He!"
Later on in the service one of his nephews got up to give the eulogy
He talked about what a special man he was
I thought to myself, You'd want to be a special man to be a steeplejack
Me! I get dizzy standing on a chair
You'd want to have your head ******* on the right way doing that job
One mistake and you're... you're history
I thought his poor wife must have been a nervous wreck waiting for him to come home
He'd lived into his nineties (90's)
His wife had died just a few years previously
He sounded like... like quite a character.

I was reminded then of an old school Pal of mine... Tom from primary school (kindergarten)
When we used live by the sea
Tom was a great swimmer he'd won loads of trophies
There was an outdoor swimming pool in our village
And you'd often see him heading up to the pool
He'd have his towel and togs under his arm
He used to walk on top of the sea wall when he'd be going up the village
And there was this part of the sea wall that was very high
There was about a 15 to 20 foot drop onto the road on one side
And an even bigger drop of 30 to 40 feet onto the rocks on the other side
And the width of the wall was just around a foot and had little ruts in it (uneven surface) that you could easily trip on if you weren't careful
And he used walk on this like a tightrope walker yea!
And we used to watch him in awe with our mouths wide open in amazement
Asking ourselves 'How could he do that ?
What the hell was going on in his head that he could do such a thing ?
If he fell he'd be killed outright or certainly crippled
And no one would ever say anything to him, they'd just say "Oh! That's just Tom"...
One day coming home from school he took me into the swimming pool
He knew all the people who worked there
On this day they were cleaning the pool and had emptied out all the water
So what does Tom do but go out onto the 'diving board ' and starts bouncing up and down on it
And there's a drop of 20 to 30 feet onto the hard cement of an empty swimming pool
If he fell he'd be breaking his neck or his legs
Crazy!
He came to our house one time, now there used to be this big rocky outcrop that used come right up to the back of our house
We used to call it 'the Cliff', it was made up of all these big rocks and loose slatey type rocks and sand
It was as high as the house itself
We were all soccer ⚽ mad in those days, we used run up the steps to the back garden to play (was on top of the cliff)
We'd be looking over at the chimneys on the house
Tom came visiting one day, when we went out the back and he seen the Cliff
He announced straightaway "I'm going to climb that"
We said "You're crazy!"
We left him there bemused and went off to play our game
About 30 minutes later Tom appears at the side of our soccer pitch having climbed up from below...
And he could hardly kick a football, he just wasn't interested in that... wasn't interested
Inside his head he had...he had his own way to go.