Here is something I learnt today
Be careful on what you spend your pay
After a day of fun, I did not think
And downed a pitcher of energy drink!

Got to the pub at half past seven
Drank Monster and Redbull until eleven
Finally home and sleep I think
But sadly not, bloomin energy drink!

What is this madness, I wiggle my toes
Why can’t I sleep , my eyes are closed
I peek and see all my clothes are pink
But still no sleep, bloomin energy drink!

Some fine ideas come flooding to me
Animation too seems just too easy
I wonder if this is the missing link
Nah, it’s the bloomin energy drink!

So check the web, will I be alright?
Paranoia seems so much worse at night
Dad is up, my eyes don’t blink
I’ll be fine he says, bloomin energy drink!

So never again, I’ll be a good Daughter
I’ll probably now just stick to water,
You can drink so much just from the sink
And no more bloomin energy drink!!

It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,
He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.
He loitered here he loitered there, till he was like to drop,
Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop.
"Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark,
I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark."
The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are,
He wore a strike-your-fancy sash he smoked a huge cigar;
He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee,
He laid the odds and kept a "tote", whatever that may be,
And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered, "Here's a lark!
Just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark."

There were some gilded youths that sat along the barber's wall.
Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all;
To them the barber passed the wink his dexter eyelid shut,
"I'll make this bloomin' yokel think his bloomin' throat is cut."
And as he soaped and rubbed it in he made a rude remark:
"I s'pose the flats is pretty green up there in Ironbark."

A grunt was all reply he got; he shaved the bushman's chin,
Then made the water boiling hot and dipped the razor in.
He raised his hand, his brow grew black, he paused awhile to gloat,
Then slashed the red-hot razor-back across his victim's throat;
Upon the newly-shaven skin it made a livid mark
No doubt, it fairly took him in — the man from Ironbark.

He fetched a wild up-country yell might wake the dead to hear,
And though his throat, he knew full well, was cut from ear to ear,
He struggled gamely to his feet, and faced the murd'rous foe:
"You've done for me! you dog, I'm beat! One hit before I go!
I only wish I had a knife, you blessed murdering shark!
But you'll remember all your life the man from Ironbark."

He lifted up his hairy paw, with one tremendous clout
He landed on the barber's jaw, and knocked the barber out.
He set to work with nail and tooth, he made the place a wreck;
He grabbed the nearest gilded youth, and tried to break his neck.
And all the while his throat he held to save his vital spark,
And "******! ****** ******!" yelled the man from Ironbark.

A peeler man who heard the din came in to see the show;
He tried to run the bushman in, but he refused to go.
And when at last the barber spoke, and said "'Twas all in fun'
T’was just a little harmless joke, a trifle overdone."
"A joke!" he cried, "By George, that's fine; a lively sort of lark;
I'd like to catch that murdering swine some night in Ironbark."

And now while round the shearing floor the list'ning shearers gape,
He tells the story o'er and o'er, and brags of his escape.
"Them barber chaps what keeps a tote, By George, I've had enough,
One tried to cut my bloomin' throat, but thank the Lord it's tough."
And whether he's believed or no, there's one thing to remark,
That flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark.

if i could
copy and paste
you into
my book
i would.

i'd lock you
into the pages
between my
covers

bookmarking
your sweetest
lines with my
red silk ribbon

i'd open you up
and read your
darkest secrets
in still of night
by candlelight

and under full
moon's glow, drip
my honey'd words
upon your tender
heart.

oh to copy
and paste
you into
my book

where our love
affair could bloom
in words.

the only place it ever could.


--bruised orange

You may talk o’ gin and beer
When you’re quartered safe out ‘ere,
An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ‘im that’s got it.
Now in Injia’s sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin’ of ‘Er Majesty the Queen,
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
      He was “Din! Din! Din!
  You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din!
      Hi! slippery hitherao!
      Water, get it!  Panee lao!
  You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.”

The uniform ‘e wore
Was nothin’ much before,
An’ rather less than ‘arf o’ that be’ind,
For a piece o’ twisty rag
An’ a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment ‘e could find.
When the sweatin’ troop-train lay
In a sidin’ through the day,
Where the ‘eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl,
We shouted “Harry By!”
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we wopped ‘im ‘cause ‘e couldn’t serve us all.
      It was “Din! Din! Din!
  You ‘eathen, where the mischief ‘ave you been?
      You put some juldee in it
      Or I’ll marrow you this minute
  If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”

‘E would dot an’ carry one
Till the longest day was done;
An’ ‘e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,
You could bet your bloomin’ nut,
‘E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear.
With ‘is mussick on ‘is back,
‘E would skip with our attack,
An’ watch us till the bugles made “Retire”,
An’ for all ‘is ***** ‘ide
‘E was white, clear white, inside
When ‘e went to tend the wounded under fire!
      It was “Din! Din! Din!”
  With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green.
      When the cartridges ran out,
      You could hear the front-files shout,
  “Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!”

I shan’t forgit the night
When I dropped be’ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should ‘a’ been.
I was chokin’ mad with thirst,
An’ the man that spied me first
Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din.
‘E lifted up my ‘ead,
An’ he plugged me where I bled,
An’ ‘e guv me ‘arf-a-pint o’ water-green:
It was crawlin’ and it stunk,
But of all the drinks I’ve drunk,
I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
      It was “Din! Din! Din!
  ‘Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ‘is spleen;
      ‘E’s chawin’ up the ground,
      An’ ‘e’s kickin’ all around:
  For Gawd’s sake *** the water, Gunga Din!”

‘E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.
‘E put me safe inside,
An’ just before ‘e died,
“I ‘ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din.
So I’ll meet ‘im later on
At the place where ‘e is gone—
Where it’s always double drill and no canteen;
‘E’ll be squattin’ on the coals
Givin’ drink to poor ****** souls,
An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
      Yes, Din! Din! Din!
  You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
      Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,
      By the livin’ Gawd that made you,
  You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

My unrequited golden dove,
you are a merchant banker
them bloomin' groovy bars
are sad tonight

but given the chance I wouldda gotten
cash & carried
& spent me porridge knife
loving your mince pies

had I not known
you'd treat me golden dove thus
& yes, been your trouble & strife
with all me Horse & cart.......

I know, not smart
I know, not smart


Translation:

( In English tis not a very impressive poem... it's just amusing how you can make cockney rhyming slang into a poem, so I've been experimenting.... I really want to send this to the guy I'm unrequitedly in love with actually... & leave him (hopefully)confused & in the dark as to what I wrote....mostly I just really want to call him a ' merchant banker' e.g ' ******' & get away with it!! xD ' ******' is a particularly offensive term to use when referring to a man!)

* My unrequited love
you are a ******
them ****** stars
are sad tonight

but given the chance I would have gotten
married
& spent my life
loving your eyes

had I not known
you would treat my love thus
& yes, been your wife
with all my heart

I know, not smart
I know, not smart

So tired and poemed out
got this one then got nowt
want to do more love and hope
so tired I'm feeling like a dope
words are crawling to the screen
tripping on the keyboard in between
hungry but tofar gone to eat
stuck in this familiar seat
got to drag myslf to bed
and get a pillow for my head
wistful here so all alone
not even my cat yet at my home
curl up like a tiny mouse
in his chilly winter house
those last two lines were quite prophetic
hang on, no, the word's pathetic
getting desperate for a rhyme
go now, quick it's past bed time!

"29 October 1888 -- this letter was sent to Dr. Openshaw, who performed the medical examination on the portion of kidney received by George Lusk in conjunction with the From Hell letter."
_____

Old boss
you was rite
it was the left kidny
i was goin to hoperate agin
close to you ospitle
just as i was going to
dror mi nife along of er bloomin throte
them cusses of coppers spoilt the game
but i guess i wil be on the jobn soon
and will send you another
bit of innerds

Jack the Ripper

O have you seen the devle with his mikerscope and scalpul a-lookin at a kidney with a slide cocked up.
_____
The letters of Jack The Ripper set to poetic formation. Part the 5th
__
With appreciation to Casebook: Jack The Ripper, the largest public repository of Ripper-related information.
http://www.casebook.org/

Once upon a time
There was a little seed
Who laid outside in the cold
Getting strangled by the ****.

But there came a draught
The **** did not survive
But the little seed was strong,
The little seed was alive.

After that the rain came
Rivers started to flow,
The little seed used this chance
To grow and grow and grow...

When the winter was gone,
When there was not one more shower
The little seed looked up at the sky
And the little seed was a flower!

Speakin’ in general, I’ave tried ’em all
The ‘appy roads that take you o’er the world.
Speakin’ in general, I’ave found them good
For such as cannot use one bed too long,
But must get ‘ence, the same as I’ave done,
An’ go observin’ matters till they die.

What do it matter where or ‘ow we die,
So long as we’ve our ‘ealth to watch it all—
The different ways that different things are done,
An’ men an’ women lovin’ in this world;
Takin’ our chances as they come along,
An’ when they ain’t, pretendin’ they are good?

In cash or credit—no, it aren’t no good;
You’ve to ‘ave the ‘abit or you’d die,
Unless you lived your life but one day long,
Nor didn’t prophesy nor fret at all,
But drew your tucker some’ow from the world,
An’ never bothered what you might ha’ done.

But, Gawd, what things are they I’aven’t done?
I’ve turned my ‘and to most, an’ turned it good,
In various situations round the world
For ‘im that doth not work must surely die;
But that’s no reason man should labour all
‘Is life on one same shift—life’s none so long.

Therefore, from job to job I’ve moved along.
Pay couldn’t ‘old me when my time was done,
For something in my ‘ead upset it all,
Till I’ad dropped whatever ’twas for good,
An’, out at sea, be’eld the dock-lights die,
An’ met my mate—the wind that tramps the world!

It’s like a book, I think, this bloomin, world,
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you’re readi’n’ done,
An’ turn another—likely not so good;
But what you’re after is to turn’em all.

Gawd bless this world! Whatever she’oth done—
Excep’ When awful long—I’ve found it good.
So write, before I die, ” ‘E liked it all!”

The buzz in the air, you feel that, feel that?
The tuxedoed men gonna deal that, deal that.
And now that you're here, the show can begin
Turn the lights down low, and the get the disc to spin.
The ice starts meltin' and the floor gets hot,
This parties gonna start whether you're ready or not.
The seat over there, Sit in it, sit in it,
Take a step back and watch while I'm spittin' it.

There is no need to untrust us,
Stand over there and watch while I bust this.
There's no way to get into it,
Close your eyes feel the beat and get intimate
Rotate your thighs and breathe in the sin of it
Rotate your mind, get high, keep on spinning it.
Stop...and watch while it gets into me
The musical blocks unlock and make a synergy.
Said ready, steady, everybody get low,
And the clubs get sweaty and we're ready to go.
The air's getting heavy and hot and you know
There's blood lust worse than Jaws and Cujo.
Light the place up, it's covered in kerosene,
The white's all over your face, oh, how embarrassing.
The lines all over the floor, there so pretty,
Take one sniff and you think you're so witty.
I'm a bomb, I'm blowing up the club now,
Can't escape the beat 'cause you don't know how,
Gonna move your feet that's all you know how,
Gonna feel the glow, the blow is so wow.

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
Yayo brings me up so I stand up and then

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
The powder knocks me down so I stay down and then

There is no need to untrust us,
Chopping the blocks, but there is no justice.
Just lustless symmetry
Closed my eyes 'cause the haze, it has enveloped me.
Shut my eyes and clogged all of my arteries,
I love the blow so much it is a part of me.
You said this had turned into my enemy,
But musical clocks tick-tock the beat right into me.
And that's not where I get all of my energy,
Jumper cables hooked up to A and D.
And don't forget the CCs in DC,
I got twenty more CCs left to inject me.
High flying humans
Set straight to zoomin',
It's spicier now then curry or cumin,
So full of life and we're only just bloomin'.
Believe in the hype if only for a little bit,
All that we need is white a just a little wit.
The worlds right here if you can unriddle it,
Play the last song and one more if it'll fit

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
Yayo brings me up so I stand up and then

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
The powder knocks me down so I stay down and then

La cocaína is no good for you
But the pony's still buckin', imma ride it through

You make it in your mess-tin by the brazier's rosy gleam;
You watch it cloud, then settle amber clear;
You lift it with your bay'nit, and you sniff the fragrant steam;
The very breath of it is ripe with cheer.
You're awful cold and *****, and a-cursin' of your lot;
You scoff the blushin' 'alf of it, so rich and rippin' 'ot;
It bucks you up like anythink, just seems to touch the spot:
God bless the man that first discovered Tea!

Since I came out to fight in France, which ain't the other day,
I think I've drunk enough to float a barge;
All kinds of fancy foreign dope, from caffy and doo lay,
To *** they serves you out before a charge.
In back rooms of estaminays I've gurgled pints of cham;
I've swilled down mugs of cider till I've felt a bloomin' dam;
But 'struth! they all ain't in it with the vintage of Assam:
God bless the man that first invented Tea!

I think them lazy lumps o' gods wot kips on asphodel
Swigs nectar that's a flavour of Oolong;
I only wish them sons o' guns a-grillin' down in 'ell
Could 'ave their daily ration of Suchong.
Hurrah! I'm off to battle, which is 'ell and 'eaven too;
And if I don't give some poor bloke a sexton's job to do,
To-night, by Fritz's campfire, won't I 'ave a gorgeous brew
(For fightin' mustn't interfere with Tea).
To-night we'll all be tellin' of the Boches that we slew,
As we drink the giddy victory in Tea.

There is a garden in my mind, where nothings' quite dead, nothings' quite alive.
Even on summers days, birds refuse to sing and the melancholy clouds refuse to blow away.
A glorious fountain that once shimmered with liquid gold, is as dry as the desert in August.
A laughter still travels on the wind, a relentless storm of memories still haunts me.

The first time I died, it wasn’t intentional and it was only in my head.

I keep dying, I keep staying alive, nothing is intentional.

They told me to put glitter on my scars,

to cut off my fingers and toes and feed them to the earth,

they told me to live in ways that forced people to look at me.

So I

cut my hair,

dyed it any color, made people look.

What happened was, they stared more at my knuckles, skin that spoke “STAY HERE”

and I knew that scared them.

Put glitter on your scars, they said. Put paint on your body, push ink up under your fingernails, tell the world you are alive in all the ways you can.

So I sang my life on city streetcorners, I screamed my life in fast-moving cars on the highway, I closed my eyes while I was driving straight and I am alive, alive, alive.

I keep dying though. Everyday I keep dying and it still feels fresh now, like a new bruise just barely bloomin’ under your skin or your coat. I keep screamin’ to keep the demons at bay, I keep writing to keep the mania movin’ and groovin’ to what life is now.

I keep killin’ in my head, I keep killin’ the demons, but sometimes they touch the back of my eyeballs so gentle, I cry so deep, I leak I leak I leak.

Put glitter on your scars, they said. I will keep trying. My home is a place in my heart that I haven’t found yet, my home is watercolors and ink and blood.

To the ones who have wondered, I am still alive. Some days I barely speak, but don’t worry because I am still so alive, I am still screaming to myself, I am still putting glitter on my scars, I am still writing life into my skin, I am still putting water and sun on my face. I am still curling my toes when I hear good songs. I am still wanting to run when the boys look at me. I know they want. I know I want something else, something you.

I have turned my bruises into landscapes, my fingers into dancing sprawling actions, my fists are still here, I swear. They still say “STAY HERE.”

My old man's a dustman
He's in the pub today
He'd be there all the bloomin' time
If he had his way

My old man's a dustman
He don't give it's all take
He plays his banjo late at night
And keeps us all awake

My old man's a dustman
He loves his missus so
He wouldn't swap her for the world
I think she'd swap him though

My old man's a dustman
He once met the Queen
He kept his hands behind his back
'Cos they weren't very clean

My old man's a dustman
He's really quite a card
Friday night he'll take you on
If you think you're 'ard

My old man's a dustman
He knows my Auntie Jean
Every time she sees him
She does a little scream

My old man's a dustman
Making no mistake
When he finally pops his clogs
There'll be quite a wake

The other day I phoned a friend, I shan't be usin' names
"Not alright, I tell ya, Gee, my eyeball's shootin' flames!"
"Owie! Owie! Owie! Oh!, Chiliman I like ya so
do tell me what has happened though I know you will be well"

"While chopping jalapenos without the proper guise
I washed my hands both 'fore and aft' but much to my demise
I went to pop my contact in and soon would realize
a flaming side of poppers and a sizzling batch of fries!"

Well I knew he wasn't faking and it took me by surprise
that my heart was feeling something which I couldn't minimize
he must have sensed me crying, guess it opened up his eyes...........
(that awkward length of silence which one-sided love implies)

and sensing he could break me down, I felt I must disguise
so I layered up and told him, "I've got onions in my eyes!"
"Woe is you and oh so woe, Gee girl how I like you so
tell me what has happened though I know you will be well."

"While chopping up the onions without the proper guise
I washed my hands before and aft' but much to my demise
can't blame me now for hoping we could do without the lies
But I'm just a bloomin' onion and I need to guard my...eyes."

And with the sharin' of the troubles and the things that caused us pain
there's comfort in the knowing, for what else have we to gain?
But if I lose you then tomorrow, because today I have been real
Best I learned another thing, to hold back what I feel.

And when everything which must be added is put in the Chili-man's crock
a five-to-one hand wash of water and bleach is best to avoid pepper shock.

Walking down my lane with downturned chin
every bit of bright closing up shop for the season
I noticed a fluttering butterfly beckoning me on
leading me to an enclosed tunnel of riotous color!


Stepping inside, my view was obscured by foliage
every texture and hue with unlimited adornment
a studious lady with a clipboard stepped out from
a row of sunflowers, vivid coral with buttery edges.


I was stunned by the majesty of her shiny black hair
and I remembered reading about a plant whisperer
so I asked: “Are you the bloomin’ botanist of lore?
Please show me how you create all these colors!”

She nodded her head, with a big wide smile, saying: 'Yes! For Sure.'
We were soon amidst foliage, so green, so pure
She handed me a twig of dark pink rose,
She smiled in surprise, like a playful child,
Asked, 'Isn't this one adorable enough to be explored?'

I was thrilled to glance at the rose, the one indeed majestic enough to be explored!
She plucked a petal, and the fragnence filled my nose,
She told me of a 'pigment', called Anthocyanin
The initial chemical constituent that provides it's colours.

I pointed my finger towards a yet wonderful rose,
The one yellow, with tint of orange edges in a big wide row.
It ignited my curiosity & more to explore,
I asked: 'What's the pigment for those colours?'

She smiled & led me closer to that row,
A row whose smell grew intense and more.
She picked a petal on her palms to explore,
& told it was a blend of two colors!

The sunset yellow the flower showed, was due to a pigment called 'Carotene'
The orange tint at the petal's end
Was due to a fixed mix of Carotene and Anthocyanin!

She told that plants have a definite substance,
A chemical constituent called 'Pigment'.
These pigment yield the colors so new,
The ones we call Lavendry, rosy, grapy and  hues.

While most leafes have a common green pigment,
Which makes them so greeny in appearance
Is nothing but this common pigment,
A pigment called 'Chlorophyll' often.


I was thrilled, amazed, and smiled so wide,
To quench the thirst, my mind always strived!
These flowers, these plants, these leafes and trees that surrounds us all sides,
Have a natural colour pallete, named 'Pigment'' inside!
The one that imparts the colors so bright.

And while my heart was imbibed in this thought,
My soul danced to discover this merry thought.
My mind, My eyes, got stuck at a flower!

The flower was adorable, with a lotusy pink view,
But I saw a bee, dancing around & singing, buzzing.
I gazed, I watched, I wondered, and pondered.
My mind had a question, which urged the answer!


I turned then to my plant whisperer,
For a yet new answer,
She turned back with her utmost grace,
Asked 'Is there a new question for me to be answered?'


I pointed my hand towards the bumblebee,
I asked why was she dancing around those flowers incessant and merrily?
Are those flowers in any ways necessary for those bees?
What are those creatures doing, minsculely in the centre of the rose disc?


She smiled in delight, with a radiant face in confidence,
I was sure, she'd teach me something interesting then!
She told me they were helping the flower with pollination,
They are nature's pollinating agents!


The flowers we see, with the adorable hues
Are bright & attractive for a reason good,
You see the bees, You'll see the birds, You'll even the honeybees doing the same the wiggle
The all come here to **** flower's sweet juice,
& While they **** it from their nectar tubes,
Their bodies pick some pollen granules!


Those pollens are the powdery make seeds,
Which are often present at the central disc.
The flies when **** the sweet flower's juice,
They sit on the structure, called 'pollen bed', and fill their 'pollen baskets' till the deeper depths!

While these bees, leave the flower at their best, ready to go to a flower next,
Their wings dust these pollen dust, to the flower's pollen tube,
Ready for the phenomenon next!
A phenomenon called 'Fertilisation' best!

The fertilisation is the fusion of male to a female's reproductive cell,
A phenomenon which forms new 'Embryonic cells'.
The Embryo formed is but the new young cell,
Ready for the cycle, it's origination led.

Nature adorns this embryo with petals,
A structure we know as 'flowers' and its  'Whorls'
The center of which forms new pollen cells,
Ready for the cycle, a part of the cycle
Of turns into a mature adult.

I Flow Sinical,
Huggin A Coat,
Holding This Black Rose,
Oh , I'm So Cold,
All Alone,
Should've,
Known,
Home Don't Feel Like Home,
It's All Because Of Me,
See I Can't Feel A Bone,
Twisted Like Some Dreads,
Mirror Image Snakes On Head,
All Black,
Red Sand,
Ahead Of My Thoughts And,
Checmical Imbalance,
Challenge My Talents,
They Lookin At Me Like They ******* Lost,
I Don't Fight, I Will Protect My Life,
A ******* Boss,
It's On Don,
Time To Box,
Super Smooth Right,
Romance Type,
Rhymes Shine Like,
Middnight Moon Sight,
Lady We Can Hold Hands Tight,
I'ma Vamp,
Jam The Mic,
Out The Amp,
Camper Night,
Crowd Gone Want An Oncore,
Cos They Feel Me When I'm Spillin Beans,
I'm Cold They Want Me On More,
I'm On Tour,
Took A Plane Just To Sit,
What The **** Is This,
Bonjour,
Rituals Closed Doors,
Won't Expose The Ugly Oaths,
If I Hear You Crack An Ugly Joke ,Auidos,
You Got To Go,
Running From My Self This Long,
Blood On Theese Blisterd Toes,
Owl I See You Gold,
I'm Missing You,
How Will I See You Go,
Black Wings On My Back,
Bats Sing,
Ghost Show,
Enities,
Scary Things,
Woah,
Right Now,
I'm Bout,
To Get It In My Whip And Go,
I Hate To Be Alone,
Length Hurts More,
I Feel Like An Earth Warm,
Soul Burns, I'm Sore,
I'm Sore
Perpare For THe Grand Fanaliy,
Sacred Notes Spoken By The Adams Family,
I Tried To Breath,
I Tried To Leave And Succusseed,
Exceed In Cali,
Before I Leave
Cemertary Scene,
Sit On A Grand Paino,
And Begin To Angel Sing,
Wrapped Up ,
In Black Dust,
Intriging Things,
Such Vivid Dreams,
Speak Nice,
I Reancarnated A Fly,
Should Of Been There It Was Hype,
Intrusive Thoughts,
3rd Eye Sharp As Hell,
Some Just Lie,
And Tell
My Ryimng Giant,
Roar Like Sirens,
Silence A Lion Tail,
And If I'm Silenced For Braking Silience,
Violent Tale,
Everythings A Story,
Glimpse Of An Experience,
Illumatied With A Sphere In Him,
Are You Hearing Em,
New Dimensions Put Fear In Em,
I'm Not FearLess,
See And Hear Ghost,
Immense Spirtual,
Deacreses Pieces Beneath Intesity Of Physical,
Pain Reaps Pleasre,
This Might Alarm Some,
Umm, Karma Is Risidual,
Percautious Actions,
Propper Packin,
Excotic Chick,
Cool As This,
Sits With A Napkin,
Poeitc Romantic Majestic,
Captin,
Thanks For Letting My Cats In,
Manners Like I'm Well Be Haved,
Nailed To The Grave,
Verbatim When I Say Demons Know The Game,
I Have Tourettes I Twitch My Neck,
Sensations Anxious Pain,
Channel There's No Train,
Why Do We Some Times Wait,
There's Is No Hopping On A Train,
Right This Way ,
There's No Such Thing,
Every Year Fear Cutting My Wings,
Despriptive Dreams,
Doungion Screams,
Destructive Thoughts Manifest Bad Things,
What If I'm Not Dead,
Just My Head Glimpsing Into An Expeirence That Rings,
Some Times I Picture
Daisy Filled Trees,
Gold Light Right Beside A Swing,
Empty Seat Beautiful Scene,
Poetry Deep,
Tears Scream What Does It Mean,
I Don't Mean To Be Mean,
Inflicted With The Wicked,
Demons Screamin At Me, ,
Alot Is Not What It Seems,
My Thoughts Build The ***,
Sensations Bloomin Seeds,
Frequency From My Belief,
Is Primarily The Feed,
Change Your Thoughts Around 2 Weeks,
Or Reality Becomes The Leaves,
Were Equal With Speech,
Diffrent Ways To Relay Communicate,
Willing To Teach,
You Can Stay When It Rains,
Please Take A Seat,
Are You Thirsty , Are You Hungry,
We Can Eat,
Need An Ear, Help Fighting Fear,
Come Here,
Just Tell Me What You Need,
A Never Ending Hug ,
Or The Deepest Spoken Piece,
I'm Hurting Coping With The Beast Inside Of Me,
Purgotry True Story Burns Like A Priest,
Vampire , Wearwolf,
Hybrid ,
Teeth,
Peter Pan Spirit ,
Spy Like Speech,
Smooth When I Move,
Staright Forward Like Sheets,
Don't Sweat My Technique , Lie Or Be Thief,
Chosen One,Under A Golden Sun,
Master Key,
Craftin Rappin Abbraccaddabra , Master Piece,
I'm Coming At Ya With I Understand,
And Peace,
Dreams Come True,
See,
I Telport To A Cave On Side Of Seas,
Black Sand,
Red Beach,
Gazin At The Waves I'm Amazed,
Today The Rain Didn't Take Me,
I'm Dying I'm Eyeing Save The,
Iron Silence,
Rippin SKin Reachin For Saftey,
White Noise,
It Is Pericing Loud,
Letting Go,
Can Turn It Down,
Don't Walk Away Come On Turn Around,
Out Burst Anger Burns The Ground,
So Confused , Emotinal Bruse,
Right, Wrong ,
Who's To Choose,
Perceptions Immbeded With A Nouse,
Code Infected With Negletic Hectic,
That Was Hard I Said It,
Past All Scars, Regret It,
All Alone Driving Down A Dark Rode,
Oh No, Yo A ****** Nose,
Passion Rose
Magik Nose,
Eyes Know,
Aroua white Snow,
Violet Glow,
Sharp Tone,
Mom You Home,

I've gone barmy !!
My mind's gone down the drain
I've gone barmy !!
I'm really quite insane
I've gone barmy !!
Bonkers, bloomin' jolly
I've gone barmy!!
It's true .. i'm off my trolley

You've gone barmy !!
That's what my shrink he said
I'm afraid that i must tell you
You've lost it in the head !!
So i thanked him with a raspberry
And then ran up the road
And shouted " i've gone barmy !"
Two bricks short of a load !

I've gone barmy !!
There are no if's or buts
I've gone barmy !!
Now i know i'm nuts
I've gone barmy !!
I'll tell you something pally
I've gone barmy !!
I'm bleedin' well doolalee !!

So if you think you're barmy !!
Sing this song with me
Shower with your clothes on
And barmy you will be !!
Dance around the living room
Hopping on one foot
Blowing lots of raspberries !!
If you want to be a nut !.

by Rudyard Kipling*

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
‘Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!'
      Come you back to Mandalay,
      Where the old Flotilla lay:
      Can't you ‘ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

‘Er petticoat was yaller an' ‘er liggle cap was green,
An' ‘er name was Supi-yaw-lat–jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an ‘eathen idol's foot:
      Bloomin' idol made o' mud–
      Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd–
      Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed ‘er where she stud!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd *** ‘er little banjo an' she'd sing ‘Kulla-lo-lo!'
With ‘er arm upon my shoulder an' ‘er cheek agin my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
      Elephints a'pilin' teak
      In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
      Where the silence ‘ung that ‘eavy you was ‘arf afraid to speak!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

But that's all shove be'ind me–long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no ‘busses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' ‘ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
‘If you've ‘eard the East a-callin', you won't never ‘eed naught else.'
      No! You won't ‘eed nothin' else
      But them spicy garlic smells,
      An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly-temple -bells;
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty ‘ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin' but wot do they understand?
      Beefy face an' grubby ‘and–
      Law! Wot do they understand?
      I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;*
For the temple-bells are callin', and' it's there that I would be–
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the old Flotilla lay,
      With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

Wind and rain,sleet and snow,it's ****** cold and here we go,
the electric board says I can't afford to keep my heating on,so I had to switch it off,that's why I have a hacking cough and
I've got the bleedin' cold.
The gas man said,'you're in the red and there'll be no gas for you' so I sit here bloomin' shivering,
I think I might have 'flu.
Can't afford to heat or eat this world is cheating me,the odds are stacked and so I've packed,
I'll find somewhere that's free.
Free range,free change,fresh air for me,electric,gas and all for free and then let's see who comes out on top.
We're being jumped on,pumped out,put upon
and someone's getting rich,it feels like we are all in jail and we are someone's ***** and them credit scores and store cards hit me when I'm down,it seems like every time I sail into the town a sale sails into me.
I think I want to,must do,have to find somewhere that's free.

Arm gooin' daàn me muvva's
An arm gonna goo by buz
Cos me feet am bloomin' urtin'
An I aint got me an oss

Then arm off to ave some bevvies
An arm gonna get kaylied
If yow'm in the Jolly Nailor
Then arl shaàt ya one inside

Doh goo bein' a soft apeth
Doh goo doin' owt thats daft
Cos when yow'v dun ad' a skinful
Then yow know yow just get saft

If ar doh see yow befow'r yow goo
Arl see yow on anon
Cos arm kippin' on the sofa
Raànd me mums aàs back up um

Tommy

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
    O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
    But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
    The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
    O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
    For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
    But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
    The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
    O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, *makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
    Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
    But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
    The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
    O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
    While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
    But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
    There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
    O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

*You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
    For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
    But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
    An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
    An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

lover of love's long lost history
you are so intrinsically dear to me
and i know you can hear the beat
when our hands go blistering

i love the neapolitan but not naples
listen to how the city sings like the others
but she buys time and barely bothers
to remove her appropriating staples

she is a reflection
of a reflection
of a reflection
of a reflection

but you, my dear neapolitans,

how holistically human you happen to be
and what a human thing to do
to braid oneself with a few
ventricles of other hearts unseen

you are not special insofar as you are human
and the home you make mistakes you
for a permanent resident, assumes you
are a planted person whose sole purpose is bloomin

but you are dynamic, not static
you do not live in someone's attic
you move around, the ground beneath you
isn't bequeathed to staying beneath you,

you

keep moving and loving and all of the aboving
because our love isn't something
that can be taken away by a location change
or how 21,000 hearts are arranged

Just a lonely somebody
walked up and said
"How do you do
the things that seem simple
like being happy?"
Who can respond
to such blatant honesty
in a socially acceptable way?
Butterflies bloomin'
intervention season
no real reason,
but sun and moon and weather are effective
in ruining moods
we're little animals deep way down
almost cute and endearing
if it weren't for brains and opinions and feelings
then we'd be perfect little
non-humans
who wouldn't be happy
but at least we wouldn't know the difference
between two greater goods
and a hand full of disappointments.