briano alliano performs on venus party trap




you see welcome to the trap and i had a great night at the poetry slam

where i met this man who said m6y poem was great, well, he liked it

in fact when i didn’t win it, he wanted to heckle the organisers, well, it was

fun, but i like the organisers too, but this man realiy believed in me, ya know

especially when i told him i am putting art in an exhibition

here is my first song, the poem i read at the poetry slam ,here goes

jingle bells oh buddy jingle bells

it’s christmas in july

the party is on for young and old

and presents to make us happy

jingle bells oh buddy jingle bells

it’s christmas in july

party on till next week, man

yeah, celebrate christmas in july

dashing thru the cold canberra winters day

you see i think my reindeers are in hibernation today

because the air is very cold, and it’s a great day to say

merry christmas my good friends in the month of july

jingle bells oh buddy it’s jingle bells

it’s christmas in july

the party is on for young and old

bring out the warm eggnog

and put up the christmas tree, and have santa on a stick

then you get those lollypops, and give ‘em an almighty lick

and give ‘em an almighty lick, my mate

ya see last night at the poetry slam, this bloke said i really sang the last bit with a lot of guts

and determination, and now as i left last night i saw a fight taking place, and i knew if i don’t stare

everything will be alright, and now here is my next song

i am tired, but i can’t sleep, i need to have a siesta, yeah mate yeah

i need to relax and enjoy my life, and have a soft drink yeah mate yeah

carn the swans carn the raiders carn the packers, like that man last night spoke to me for

yeah mate yeah, and now time for, here is my next song, loving friends and loving family


You see when I was young and I always was trying to be cool
I had a family who tried to stop myself from being cool, and I was
So fristrated with that, I said, no I am cool, but I wssn't cool, I wanted
To laugh at everybody and I laughed so loud that my psrents were telling me
To quiten down and this made me angry, you see I got violent and I started to rant
And rave and it took me over a long time to understand that they were treating me
Like a cool kid, but I was young and stupid and it seems like they were teasing me
And giving me a hard time, and i also said that I wanted to be cool and always go out having a good time and getting ****** as a parrot, you see, my voices were putting those thoughts
Right in my head, giving me a lot of problems, making me very very sick of being in this crazy situation, and I am glad I have this amazing loving family and good friends, to help me through any kind of situation.
You see when I try and muck with my father like a mans kid, my brother would say, don't muck with him, he's not like us, don't much with him, no he is not a young dude. Be like us, and be a young dude and be a little shy boy, you try and be oool every day, and you try and give stay up all night while everybody else is going to bed, so you can go, hey to him, but the thing about it is, that it is the fact that he is living in the past.
So then my loving family and loving friends made me feel better about how much I wanted to
Move on and live life to the fullest, you see he will laugh like a man should and then say, heh heh heh heh , i am a cool boy, I am not a little shy boy, I sit up all night, I don't go to bed, you see I am superior, but my mates call me a complete loser.
Because this man is a total and absolute ******, and it makes me absolutely crazy, and this drives me crazy, you know very crazy, but I always call it a loving family and loving friends, I don't need these friends who only like me because I sit underneath them.



here is my next song, titled mashed potato finger nail at the skate park, here goes

You see Jacki Fred Harold Stone was a very cool young dude
You see instead of going to bed with all the other kids
He wanted to go to the skate park and ride the skateboards
With his best mates down there, and it was a very weird effect
You see his fingers smelt like mashed potato and all his mates went home
And they said he was a little shy boy, and Jacki Fred Harold Stone said
I am not a little shy boy, I am a cool boy, who loves to skate
And when I have a rest the mashed potato finger nails come again
To inspire me to keep being cool here at the skate park
You see I did some very awesome tricks, and I had so much fun
But I still smelt my mashed potato finger nails, it was driving me wild
I told all the people at the skate park and they said, your not shy
In fact your the coolest dude out of your family, and none of us want you to leave
I don't care if you used to get teased by everyone at your school
And I don't care if your family teaeed you as well
You see Jacki, I think your cool, and I will never tease you, not ever
I want to sell you drugs, but you don't have to take them
Because your the boy with the mashed potato finger nails
And we'll never ever tease you, we want to be your friend
And we want nothing more than that
So come on Jacki Fred Harold Stone, show us how to skate
You see my name is Jason Lee, and this is my mate Tristan
And we'll be your only friends you will never tease you
Cause at least you come here and ride your skateboard like a cool dude
And after your finished you stay with us and have a joke around
Despite of the times you tell us, your cool, we still have problems with this deal
You see, you are the kid who has mashed potato finger nails
And I don't care at all, your like us, Jacki, your cool, and your fingers smell like a good
Dose of mashed potato, which means your very cool
here is my next song, titled as much fun as it sounds, here at the trap

You see Jacki Fred Harold Stone was a very cool young dude
You see instead of going to bed with all the other kids
He wanted to go to the skate park and ride the skateboards
With his best mates down there, and it was a very weird effect
You see his fingers smelt like mashed potato and all his mates went home
And they said he was a little shy boy, and Jacki Fred Harold Stone said
I am not a little shy boy, I am a cool boy, who loves to skate
And when I have a rest the mashed potato finger nails come again
To inspire me to keep being cool here at the skate park
You see I did some very awesome tricks, and I had so much fun
But I still smelt my mashed potato finger nails, it was driving me wild
I told all the people at the skate park and they said, your not shy
In fact your the coolest dude out of your family, and none of us want you to leave
I don't care if you used to get teased by everyone at your school
And I don't care if your family teaeed you as well
You see Jacki, I think your cool, and I will never tease you, not ever
I want to sell you drugs, but you don't have to take them
Because your the boy with the mashed potato finger nails
And we'll never ever tease you, we want to be your friend
And we want nothing more than that
So come on Jacki Fred Harold Stone, show us how to skate
You see my name is Jason Lee, and this is my mate Tristan
And we'll be your only friends you will never tease you
Cause at least you come here and ride your skateboard like a cool dude
And after your finished you stay with us and have a joke around
Despite of the times you tell us, your cool, we still have problems with this deal
You see, you are the kid who has mashed potato finger nails
And I don't care at all, your like us, Jacki, your cool, and your fingers smell like a good
Dose of mashed potato, which means your very cool
as much fun as it sounds to heckle, i still remember the american dude, but this man last night was a cool dude, buddy, cool man sam


and have you ever been a cool kid to your dad, and had people laugh at you, i felt that last night when i didn’t join in the heckle, but that man

was nice to me, saying he admires me, but i am not gay, i am bradley simmons

Bradley lived in Cowra with his mum and dad and brother Kenneth, and Kenneth was a real mans kid who plays with his friends in the street and then he goes home to watch Disneyland with his dad, and he mainly liked to watch westerns, while Bradley was certain that there is something going on in the air, and went to church with his mum.
You see this wasn't really tbe best family unit, especially when families go out to fun family events, but Bradley and Kenneth's dad was a director at kids town, which is a Buddhist drop in centre, who looke after the daily needs of under fortunate kids, and Bradley and Kenneth were told to come into these centers, when their dad organised some games to brighten their spirits, one game was spin the Buddha, where you get a spinning buddha statue and the kids get a lolly pop if the Buddha spun towards them, and even though they thought it was lame, well you can see it in their faces, Bradley thought it was cool and then said to his dad how about I plan games for them to play, like soccer out in the paddock, or even cricket, or tennis, and one of the homeless Boyd sadism I am too poor to get into Auskick, so can we play Aussie rules, and if I whip your ***, I know I can play for Richmond, and Kenneth who tried to be the cool kid there said, well if you make Richmond, it won't mean you are good, it means you play for Richmond, and Bradley told Kenneth to be nice to him, he obviously likes Richmond, and Kenneth said to Brad, why don't you shut up you stupid old ******* ****, and Bradley said, I am cool, I can turn these kids away from you.
Then Bradley said ok it's time to play a board game and little Ryan said, well what does board games have to do with helping us get houses, and Bradley said, oh no I ain't that powerful, I am just a kid, I can't give you a home, no,,I am here to make you feel that people actually care for you, because I think it would be tough for you having no home to go to and the kids listened to Bradley like he was one of the adults and being a typical jealous little brother started to get very jealous especially when e tried to make a joke, and they told him to get lost, because your brother is boosting our self esteem.
At the end of the day, Kenneth said to Bradley, you are a stupid ******* old *******, playing board games doesn't make them really feel better, what makes them feel better is taking them for walks around, but you are too stupid for that aren't you Bradley, you are too fucken shy to be like those kids friends, you see they all like me better, they just tolerate you, so go back to your bedroom and go and do some underage *******, no you aren't one of us boys, *******.
Bradley was upset with what Kenneth said and went to his bedroom and cried for hours and since then he didn't have inspiration to go back to his dads work to help the kids there, but his dad said, your brother is just jealous, and you should do this if it makes you feel happy, and his dad said, and if you find that Kenneth is proved right, just ignore them, and you can start off by ignoring Kenneth, because really, I wish every kid could have the inspiration that you bring to kids town, don't let teasing stop you for reaching your full potential, Bradley, Bradley decided his dad was right, and he kept on going to kid's town to make a difference in these children's lives, playing games and talking to one another, this was so cool the kids thought, Bradley thought he was growing up, and Kenneth who decided to come in, because he thought kids need to be kids, yes, his dad was doing a good job, but really Kenneth had what the kids really wanted, like he bought his computer and showed him the virtual world, and Bradley said no kids playing board games are fun, and computer games can wreck your eyesight, but the kids decided that Kenneth needed to be heard too, after all he is the other son of the kid's town leader, so they listened to him for a while and instead of trying to play along, Bradley felt hurt and said, ******* all, and went to his room to cry, and all the tough boys said, 'what a cry baby' and then he said his brother isn't an monster, we still like him, but Kenneth wanted to make Bradley jitter, so he now decided to play around laughing very loudly, like he was like us, man or something and Brad was in his room, crying and their dad decided that Brad needed to share his friends and said that he prefers the way Kenneth did things, Brad got really angry and started to be totally mental, by punching Kenneth like a ******, as well as threatening to **** the father that gave him a perfect life as a kid, of course he didn't **** him, but he was an angry *******, you see he was the board games king, while his brother was a computer **** kid, and Kenneth tried to not hurt Brad's feelings, even though, being a kid, he found it hard to not teaee the ****** and Bradley was put in a special school where he made a few new friends, but they weren't into playing board games or anything else with him, they wanted to teaee him, with teachers joining in, because Bradley needed to learn about how to control is temper, and someone tried to bully him, and Bradley stood up to him, and another guy was determined to tease Bradley also, but as he tried to punch Bradley put his hands on his **** and squeezed his ***** real tight, and since then everyone liked Bradley, but not to his dads liking the little cool kid to his dad was suddenly Kenneth,,and Bradley felt he was trying to tease Kenneth the same way, and see how he likes it, but all his friends like Kenneth better, and Bradley punched Kenneth in the gut and his friends thought Bradley was a **** and left the house and another girl at school was making fun of Brads parents and Brad tried to stand up to her,but she said, they never helped me,**** kids town and ******* early to bed and early to rise baby, and Bradley got really upset and from that moment the only young ones who like him were the rougher ones, who hassled Bradley for money,and Bradey became to shy to say no. Which made him a little young dude with no friends, he had family trying to contact him, but he was determined to make their lives a misery.
Bradley was an idiot, with his drinking and teasing and punching people, yes dude, he needs anger management, and he needs it now, but you must want to go, but Bradley made a pact, that he won't get help till Kenneth found a girl and got married and has kids,,so his thought of being teased all through his adult years, wasn't going to happen, and Kenneth married Bridgett Kingsley and they had Toni and Ros, yes, Bradley's little nieces, and he loved them dearly, and the bonding of Bradley and Kenneth grew fondly, while their parents had the old Brad back, he ain't married but he's happy, and that's what Counts in life.


******* that look a lot of wind singing this to you at the venus party trap and when i got home i was told to sit there little shy boy and let your school mates play air guitar, i was happy too, because of sam

at the poetry slam, thinking i had guts tom read a poem and not win, who cares, it’s a fun night out dudes

You see, you are still a little shy boy, and we are still teasing you
So, now you are working, man, come, leave us
And let us muck around, we want to smoke our bongs
As well as drink our bourbons, and drink 100 beers
Yeah we all feel cool, and don't wake up little shy boy
We want the adults to not bother us, cause we are having so much
Fun, we don't want to be adults,and don't want you to worry about us either
You see, all the men, are sitting there, trying to muck with them
Saying tease him, if you want to tease, just teaee him
But at the end of the day, man, we aren't really teasing
We are sitting up all night, being bums and young bludgers
And it's because you are such a ******
We might be making it seemed you are getting teased
But, we really want to leave you alone,,if you leave us alone
Cause, we are drug addicts,,and we want you to respect the fact
That we don't want to work, as long as you think that you aren't a young bludger
Everything will be already, but young bludgers go to bed for work
So mate, just enjoy yourself, and smoke your bongs
And have a good time, doing it
You see, I want to enjoy ourselves doing this
You are now leaving us all on our lonesome
See ya dudes

see you soon, venus party trap, and t

Some people hate the smell of smoke
To me smoke meant early Thursday morning bongs rips
And the sun fighting it's way through the curtains
His 8 AM shirtless skin against mine and his face in my neck
The way our lips would play and tease each other, longing and smoke on our breath
Until we drifted back into dreams
Because we weren't about to let the morning win
To take that away from us

On the third day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

Crystal tears in beams of the ethereal triangle. (Moth)
Leave gleams of cosmic rays of colors new from all angles
Crying trying to hug a moth.  
As Crystal tears fall on sacred cloths.
Benighted Bug embraced in hugs
Wings are spread to hold one snug:
Deepens the sorrow,
smiles be smug
Deeply sad
happy songs sung
Deep so deep in altered states fun
Deep like your hole that was never dug.
For this is why thy is sobbing yet numb.
So missed, so loved
this head in dread hung.
Hysteric screams loud left ears that rung.
Mourning love on lavish lush.
Perhaps hard drugs
gleam in this rug.
Like Twinkle stars in eyes of lights bug.
Flutter now precious one.  
That moment has come.
For that cosmic lights in the night sky has shun.
Fly off now and thrive
Through Blessed skies twilight.  
Omega trifecta disjecta in white.
Disregard all  life’s ill lies
Project Past false folly worlds not wise.
Omega trifecta eternal cant die.  
Clothed in robes on moths back we ride
  Purple eyes On wings spread so wide.  
Protected With swords
worn on there sides
Giants enlightened
with violet sash tied
Guide these rides like blades on arm right
through chaos harmonized untwined.
be three inside when doors thy find.
Under cat pelt black mat
Crystal white key sleeps and  hides.  
Unlock bone carved door,
to obscure and pure life.
Flesh cold on *** gold,
Twist it like Pyrex pipes.  
Arived
Arived
Looks dead
Though alive
Triangle portals for immortals to rise.
  In bliss gnostic gifts of the purest of kind.
alive in parallel paths that have died.
Blind not the light,
as black sun in sky rise.
Omega trifecta disjecta drenched white.  

Insanity
123
Triangle eyes  
Upon moths wings.  
Insanity
123
How nice was it for you visiting.
Insanity
123
Lovely wings now wave to thee
Insanity
123
Love has come
Love will not leave.
Insanity
123
Of three
Triangles dance like seas.
Insanity
123
White it be
of love
of 3.

Burn forever has this flame.
Insane deranged the mental state.
Delirium comes
And is here to stay.
Now in the dark filthy room,
the schizoid hides away.
In Torment
in dormant
Destroy rituals save.
Healed by the hand
Upon masters embraced.
Purify soul
Preserve culture and race.
Clean blood the last goodness
left in this wretched place.
Yet still in stillness
stagnant turns blue in veins
Bloodletting not upsetting
Blades sway without pain.
As well as chop lines
Upon mirrors for days.
Twisting Pyrex orbs like a game
As well as starve self in sacred ways.
As well as smoke finest of *** never laced.
As well as this huffing to **** cells In brain.
The alcohol be it the final Intake.  
Rituals so official for healing in this hate.
Destroy
Create
Destroy
Create
Sleep deprived
for up to thee days.
Final hours
bring forth meat and champagne.
Replenish the ugly shell carbon based
Starved for many days
Sacrifices made done safe
Acts watering spirit
Sacred like this self inflicted pain
Be it in ethereal place
Where insane becomes sane.
Clean the mirrors like spirits slate.
Awaken here to rise.
Eyes alive appearing crazed
laughs upon the sad estates.
Fear all clear has disappeared
Nearly forgot the name
again please come play
like the sun does in may
Cloaked with veils soaked,
like the bed lovers lay.
Cloaked in veils soaked
With inhuman healing rain
Cloaked in veils soaked
Through shadows in thick smoke.
Abstract absurd croaks,
hang from yellow ropes.
Oh strange these roads
magicians go.
Zero fear crystal clear
With senses unknown
It is upon the humans where Paranoid confused madness cripples all life.
Where the eyes of the rubber skinned demons flutter like fast as hummingbird wings.
No logic or sense
reality has shattered.
Machanical animals glitch out like brains splattered
Oh the inner urge to stab synthetic creatures
Oh to destroy Gears and chips inside that “raccoon”
Oh to have oil drop off this sharpened knife
How the **** can one ****
That which is not even alive
Malevolent smiles on people on all sides
These are the things
these eyes have seen
Enough now on obsessing
on that which is now cleansed.
These are the reasons this obscure life be led.
These be the reasons these practices one tends.
These be the reasons for the drs meds
These be the reasons one ***** up this head.
These be the reasons that one is not dead
For these sacred acts in fact have fed spirit and flesh  

Dancing and laughing now through storming waves of chaos seas
Immortal threes ride storms through dark nights.

Until Timelessness be kind with bliss.
These moments will be missed
For the horror be done.
For the flesh be at rest.
Silk was a voice that little wings said.
For fabulous readings
Whispers to heart In chest.
Last lovingly gesture
face gently corresed
Kissing soft wings as the honored guest left.
Gracious be glorious gifts that were sent.
For a  radiant cosmic ray is shun
A Glowing beam bright as the sun.  
Open ethereal triangle windows up.
Fly far now back to lands you are from.
to gaze into ethereal triangular windows.
Free forever eternal have fun
be a triangular window.  
Oh how now to frolic.  
Within Crystal palace.
Oh how to drink from the purest of chalice.
Oh how now to frolic  
Do not stop it
Obnoxious
be not this calling.
Laugh and prans  
as if you have lost it
sheen as if polished.
Which  gleams like gold lockets
Soft the Royal purple carpets.  
Dance in trancemusic of inhuman artists
Terror tamed and disregarded.
of black and laced scarlet
Parallel white
Blackness falls.
Gone unto the sacred arts.
Beaming rays in callused  hearts.

Hard telepathic readings.
The physical health was releasing.
Now physical health is at full regeneration.
Regression
Regression
Regression
In threes
In these
Darkest light in vibrant scenes.
Walk the chaos fields
Laugh at this disease.
In threes
Your triangle
Your embrace please.
Speaking through the cosmic seas.
yes blood as flesh are with thee.
All moments of timeless times.
We both dismantled time and logic.
Witnesses of chronic tauntings.
Together cold hands at hops frolic.
Disability in the humans life
Keeping wits as sharp as knifes.
Laugh with thee
In three
Hahaha
Hahaha
Hahaha
Far to gone
Walking along with zero fear at all.
Within you now all distress is regressed.
You are immortal and free.
You speak through moths and trees.
Transcend the logic of all human beings.  
Beyond the sane and tamed.
Oh severely was such un heard of pain.
humans of hate and horror in black corners.
Chaos in eternal be harmony.
Through delusions
Through evil illusions.
Still immortals storm the insane vespers.
In m
Aquarius being of untouchable boundaries.
Virgo being of untouchable boundaries.
These moons

**** trying to word or logically read.
We’re born of the purest lights.
found in the darkest of seems.
Insane
In pain
In collapsed yet precious veins.
Insane
In pain
Happiness on earth not aloud.
Happiness in far away bliss.
Oh how the dread impails when such is missed.
Eternal
In white
In ligh in black
Laugh with thee as the wretched attack.
In purity
With purple sash on white robes
In light in darkness harness you will be loved and whole.
Still shovels crave to dig six foot holes.
Still death appears in the faces of the cold.
Love fortold in the hopelessness like mold.
Oh telepathic wanderer of true purity.
Eternaly
Your purity and loving being
Eternal shall your light be strong.
Your love in lungs as one rips bongs.
Of three you and thee
Of night
Of light
No more fright
For blackness has led them to might that is white.  
For love from the purest has held out inhuman hands.
Forever infinite beyond imagination of man.
Forever gnostic callings in not so human lands.
Crystal tears beam in ethereal triangle (moth)

BRIANO ALLIANO PERFORMS AT JUPITER MOON


hi dudes and welcome to jupiter moon where i will chuck a methane smoothie all over dad

so he can stop treating me like him at home, you see last night dad used the old young dudes

tp say i am not like my mate pat anymore, no, don’t want to be a cool kid to my dad, but i can

clean my house to what i like, and nothing more, buddy, so if you treat me like dad, you must

except i want to be a poor man, because dads way will never work, he should work on betty campbell

here is cruising round with red bull


I see some sorry old soul walking around the town, with a leather jacket on and a red bull in his hand, you see he looks kind if ***** and ****** up in the head he also looks so droopy, too, he should be home in bed, he'll go into JB hifi, if they'll let him in, that is and then he'll notice his red bull can is empty, he didn't know what to do, and everyone is staring at him, he yells out really loud WHAT ARE YA LOOKIN' AT YA ******, and nearly gets into a fight, and he was going completely crazy, yes he was weird, so ran through the mall, saying, I have to get my red bull, I have to get my red bull, I have to get my red bull, it's a f..n matter of life and death, if I don't get a red bull now, I swear I'll **** someone, waddaya think of that, everyone was saying as he passed thinking this man is cool, I think he's a loser cruising around with his red bull
When he got his second can open it up and it squirted everywhere, and unknown to him that half the can was lost in that squirt, so he cruised around with his can saying howdy to the chicks and saying hi dudes to the chaps, and, man he felt so cool, as he went over to JB hifi, yes his red bull can was empty again, and he yelled out ****, this time he was really ****** violent, he knocked over an old lady going to the bank and punched a yeah mate yeah kid,  (nerd) in the gut, and he was like that all the way to the red bull shop, when he got their the red bull was sold out and the store clerk said we have red eye, mother or V, and he said I don't want those, they are woosey drinks, I only drink red bull, because about 1 hour the man was taken by the police, as he was cruising it gives me wings, as I left he saw a kid who bought the last red bull, and he offered him $50 for it, and the kid said, money comes and money goes, but this red bull stays with me forever, and he got violent threatening to **** him as such and the kid said, ok dude, keep ya shirt on, give me $50 for this can and I will give it to you, they exchanged what they had and the kid went to the police station to fill in a statement saying he was threatened by a crazy red bull ******, and in around with the kids red bull, the police took him away the kid identified him as the guy, whi would convert to violence, to be cruising around, oh yeah, yes, man cruising around with his red bull, what a loser

and now here is my next song, called go to bed little shy boy, because i feel like a hooligan with my itchy feet, and i feel like i am getting kidnapped on earth because i am a tad messy, cause dad will never help me, when i do work, i feel like a lady, well, ****** oath i am a
lady to a tease, but i don’t want to get teased though, so i am a man
You see, you are still a little shy boy, and we are still teasing you
So, now you are working, man, come, leave us
And let us muck around, we want to smoke our bongs
As well as drink our bourbons, and drink 100 beers
Yeah we all feel cool, and don't wake up little shy boy
We want the adults to not bother us, cause we are having so much
Fun, we don't want to be adults,and don't want you to worry about us either
You see, all the men, are sitting there, trying to muck with them
Saying tease him, if you want to tease, just teaee him
But at the end of the day, man, we aren't really teasing
We are sitting up all night, being bums and young bludgers
And it's because you are such a ******
We might be making it seemed you are getting teased
But, we really want to leave you alone,,if you leave us alone
Cause, we are drug addicts,,and we want you to respect the fact
That we don't want to work, as long as you think that you aren't a young bludger
Everything will be already, but young bludgers go to bed for work
So mate, just enjoy yourself, and smoke your bongs
And have a good time, doing it
You see, I want to enjoy ourselves doing this
You are now leaving us all on our lonesome
See ya dudes
yeah, i don’t wanna be a cool kid to tease so i say to you, shut up cockbreath, here is my next song


I am a man and other men are teasing me with the kids
This is driving me crazy, I told them that I am a man
And I don't stand for this kind of juvenile behaviour
You see the kids didn't listen to that, they just laughed
And for a while each man kept on trying to be mature adults
Which we all know they're not, said for the kids to leave me alone
And then said, he isn't a target for teasing
But then after 3 days, the men said, what the flaming ****
We are going to tease this ****** yuppie
Yes, we'll tease them with the kids
The kids would teaee and when you go to the men
The men will teaee them too. They will act like all other Australians
And tease you as well, yes and they will ****** find it ****** fun
You are suffering cause you haven't got many friends

And the kids are laughing, while the ******* men say
You are a fucken big old softie,and you are now with no friends
Then you get a knife and try to stab him
And after that you punch him in the back
And then you draw out your knife and threaten to slit his throat
If he doesn't stop fucken teasing him
But they go, I am teasing you, and that's the only way I am being



You see when I go out of my bedroom after having a night of ***
The kids ate teasing me, left right and centre
And I try to handle it, but it's so ****** hard for me to do
Because they are saying things like, I am going to bash you up
And giving me a pineapple drink which was ****** wee
close to you
So if the kiddies are teasing you, and you turn to me, to get me to muck with you
I will say, I ain't mucking with you, mate, neh
I am just teas---ase---ing you with the kiddies, you aren't like us, cause when we tease you
Mate, you can't handle it, and then you say, you are spastic, and dumb as well. And I will punch you with this metal part of my leather glove, to show you who can't fucken handle teasing, you **** of the earth, fucken man
Then you go to your room, and they don't talk to you anymore
Because they are treating you like a target to tease
And that drives me crazy. And i yelled out
I AM SICK AND TIRED OF BEING THE MAN WHO IS GETTI NG TEASED BY MEN AND THE KIDS,  LEAVE ME THE **** ALONE
And they did, I am now a free spirit, no one can successfully taste me, never


yeah, i don’t wanna get teased by the men and kids, so i will be a hooligan oops, i am a cool person

you see, i am a polite man, hey, what did you say, you are protecting me with your hey, so i want dad to fly off, ok

have found a polite way to

I have found a polite way to say I love you even if I don't really mean it
I have found a polite way to tell you to ******* when you constantly bug me at my place of work, and that is treat him like an employee and then sack him, that'll work
I have found a polite way to tell someone that their weird without making them get upset
I have found a polite way to say to a right wing party that their policies stink by saying, you guys are a bunch of total perfectionists, who care nothing for the little guys
I have found a polite way to tell someone that they aren't the right sort of friend for me by saying, please mate, I need to broaden my horizons, so can you leave my perfect world buddy
I have found a polite way to tell my boss that I am resigning and that is I really don't want this place of employment, it's not really my cup of tea
I have found a polite way tell someone in a bar to stop bugging me by asking them nicely to please leave me alone and if that doesn't work then leave the bar saying if people aren't going to be nice to me here, I ain't going to come here
I have found a polite way to call someone a young bludger by telling them that they are as lazy as you were when you were their age
I find polite ways to say anything because I value my
Life too much to be hurt people's feelings, I am really cool, man

ya see i hear voices of people saying i have no real problems, but i wanna be famous, and i want to move to adelaide, but i don’t get positive feedback

so i feel like getting drunk and vomiting like this song

You see I love to have a few beers, or chocolate, and chips, oh yeah
This was what I really enjoy when I go to a pub at night
You see I live next door to this nightclub, called the hungry ****** horse
And I ain't cursing because I want to, man, that s what it's called
I met a man named Roger Killbert, who I had *** with and having a few
But the beers weren't doing good for Roger, they made him really sick
You see he was getting drunk and vomiting, yes, he was really sick
I don't share children with him, so why did I stay with him
You see he lost his family in the recent fires, and this is the first time he went out
And Roger was getting a sickly taste in his mouth, oh yeah
And it made him *****, he was sick,
You see it was just vomiting, so I didn't bother to take him to hospital
But I changed my mind, when te blood came out, it was really bad
So I took him to the hospital, and the hospital said he fine
But I know in my fucken ****** heart, that he was sick
Then he vomited blood, and the nurse said
To Roger to go to the waiting room
Because this isn't too important, but we do know that it was
And I said, why don't you get your *** in gear
And help my fucken friend, and from that moment
They labelled me a stubborn girl, yes I hated that a lot
And I said, yes, I'm stubborn, but I care for him, and have you got
Someone you care about, you hear about doctors like you
And I am more than just a stubborn woman
If you don't look after my friend, or at least try
I will soo your pants right off
He fucken had the nerve to say on what grounds
I am trying, to be my job, follow work protocol
Yes, I am doing fine, I earn a lot of money
And I deserve every cent, then I said you deserve squat
But I don't really care, when we left, yes I sooed his pants off
And since that ****** day, this doctor never learnt his lesson
We were moved to another hospital
You see he is getting drunk and vomiting, and he was very sick
And we are enjoying spending his money we got out of the doctor
Yes I feel ****** good

you can get your earth bodies to look at aaron clayton or aaa youtube TV, to hear everything performed by me

here is my next song


now, i will tell you where my cool kid is, at the mall mucking around
you see I go to the mall, being with young people
And I have so much fun, making young people mistakes
Like drinking all night and passing by McDonald's
For a McFeast and fries and coke
I will look like a junk food hooligan
And yes I will look so cool to the young
But I wish it was as simple as that
I want to have some fun
So I saw my two friends Eddie and Daniel
And we mucked around having fun
But it wasn't really what I wanted, man
So I told them both to *******
For 3 years after they purposely ran into me
And call me Woosey, and um, they will put the smoke in their ear
And eat McDonalds while I will try to be an adult
And every adult decision I make, they said Woosey, Woosey, Woosey
And then I got up and said you kids make me sick
But I couldn't say that, and they called me Woosey, because I was
Too Woosey to be a man, that opens up to his problems
But I felt like trying my hand trying to intimidate them
And make them leave me alone, it drives me crazy
All I want to be is a normal young dude, you know
Playing around making mistakes as well as being cool
But I have **** like you two teasing me as if your friendship is a fucken lie
You look like greedy pigs when you eat your McDonald's
And you are a ******* when you bang your head against the tapes
Yeah, dude, you look like a Woosey to me, mate
I am just doing the kind of things that Patrick did
Because what he likes to do, is similar to what I like to do
I like hard rock music, but I ain't a little young dude
Who is to scared to escape the tease
You guys are two little Wooseys, and I will say you are Wooseys
Mainly because you eat little young food like maccas
And you stick the cigarette in your hair, like a ******
I am a cool young dude, cool young dudes do art, and don't look lost
I'm not lost, I am so radical dudes, let's party
I am now on the healing process, because Daniel is the only Woosey
And that's the truth, you see


you see, how many of you guys have been called a woosey, you see i believe in loving life and here is my next song

i still wanna be young, what is wrong with that
Yes, mate, I am happy and I feel cool
I feel my body is getting younger and I want to break the adult rule
Mind you, there is nothing wrong with growing up, and being wise, so to speak
But really that's too formal, man, doing that will just send you weak
You need to do things that are exciting
Like go on an aero plane, like to Thailand or Vietnam, or even the mighty USA
You should go on long rail journeys too, yes that's a bit of a buzz
You can either choose having a sleeper, living the lap of luxury
Or roughing it up on the single ride seat
You can also grab a hot meal on the train
And you can eat it in the dining car
And you can eat it up, real fast, so you aren't away from the seat too long
I also like a bus trip, like to Batemans bay or beyond
And a trip to Sydney. Melbourne, Brisbane, Hervey bay, gold coast, and fantastic Adelaide
I go into a club and if I hear music I will either tap my foot or dance to it
Depending on the mood of the place
I also like to stay in a Hotel, and watch a bit of ****** Rupertvision
Some shows are good, and thouroughly entertained me so much
But not enough to make me give to that rich *****
I sometimes like a good trip in the country, where I climb mountains
Or just look at the views from lookouts and even the wild life
And mind you, you can have a ball in the country, cause you have no main worries
No worries at all, sonny Jim
Then you can spend the weekend in Sydney for the Carols in the domain
Where you get in early, pick a great spot, and take in the Christmas spirit
Mind you, you have to wait in line at the toilets, but it's all in good fun
And mate, if you happen to lose, dad, or even your mum
Just go to the stage, and tell them that you are a lost boy
With no directional skills, and how do I find mummy again
Of course they will help find them, but you really just wanted to get on the idiot box
And mate, just wait for the hiding you get off mum or dad
For wasting important television viewing time
There are so many things you can do, but, mate
You need to get a job, oh yeah, don't make your mum and dad pay
That can make you uncool
You see, I am a 43 year old young dude, yeah
And I will be there, till the day I join the afterlife, oh yeah
i hear voices of people saying, i ain’t going to help you little cool ki, ****** oath i am cool kid



Hi little kid, you can't find your mummy, you are a baby
Cause this is a family event, and it's quite ****** safe
Just ask a fellow kid, sure you are safe little kid
But then another kid will come, and trick me into
Looking like a phedaphile, and I won't be able to get out of it
So little kid, keep looking around for your mummy
And, yes you will see her, and I ain't helping you
Cause I am not the kids teasing Buddy
You see I want kids to let me be a true grown up
Who wants to be cool, and have a lot of fun
With other grown ups, and if kids can think of Judy being with each other
The city will look after their needs a lot better
You see, I dressed up as Santa, but I ain't helping you kid
So *******, or I will put you in the toilet
Do you want that, I don't fucken think so
I can tell you, I ain't no kid, I am an adult
Who wants to have fun and enjoy life
I don't want you kids to come up to me
And ask me to do something inappripiate
Even if it looks innocent, it ain't, I aren't that type of guy
You kids are a pack of fucken losers
And just keep yourselfs in your family groups
Cause that will suit me just fine, because
I ain't gonna he

Baa, baa, Green sheep,
Have you any kush?
Yeh, mon, yeh, mon,
Three bongs full;
One hit for ma tyke,
And one for ma ****,
And one for the batti boi
Who lives by caribe.

Baa, baa, Green sheep,
Have you any ******?
nah, mon, nah, mon,
no spliffs mon;

an entire day of abstaining from "syringe",
whoever said it was:
the perfect dis-satisfaction -
supposedly it passes as quick as someone
puffing on crack...
                well...
                      the first cigarette...
when "quitting"... after years of 20 a day...
and this quitting: because no cheap
ciagarettes on the horizon from moldova...
or bulgaria...

    the first hit... feels like electricity...
i can feel it from my head...
right down to my toes...
          in my heels...
the tingling at first... then it all subsides...
into a sensation of a thrown stone
into the stomach:
like a nun jumping a bungee...
i feel like a teenager... who first sipped
alcohol...
the carousel of intoxication -
yet: so contained...
        there's the thrill and an
insurmountable number of adjectives
to the sensation:
face like a sponge head like blitzkrieg
theatre...
         i'm "quitting"...
well... 10 years exposed to the numbing...
perfect the ritual:
i guess i must...
    how long will it last... long enough:
to base the drinking on what becomes
the cigarette: on the peripheries:
and closure...

must i take any more revelation drugs...
apart from what's taxed and legal...
a solipsistic cigarette and some
gomme syrope: putting ms. amber
into the refrigerator...
              
i can feel the horde the tsunami from
a fat head through
a whirlwind dropped into my stomach...
and then the magic toes: tingling...
of course: i'm "quitting"...
quitting as much as...
mellow lou reed contra iggy pop
when bowie was with him in berlin...

"quitting"... the initial hit is over...
the first impressions...
the formality is thrilling...
then comes the diffusion:
the informality of fractions and percentages...
from the brain... the nerves...
perhaps the heart...
and the last place to look into:
the liver...

         and other... soft-tissue glue parts...
and the ritual:
a packet of benson & hedges...
wrapped up with about 10 rubber bands...
it has been waiting for me
for the entire day...
and now that the night is here...
a day when an apple tree was planted
along with a cherry tree...

the garden is looking more and more
presentable for sale...
but before the sale: it must be enjoyed...
i never thought that...
a cigarette: after... this short prospect
of abstinance...
is almost like the first...
but when coupled with the whiskey...
hell... i can't remember the last
time i drank and it felt like...
i was a teenager: under-age drinking
in one of those ****** clubs that
high-school girls go to find boys
with cars... out of school without
a-levels...
and boys go... to find... ms. ambers...
and jazzy gits of mr. fuzzy mr. funny...
the bavarian brothers: the weisers...

please! please! more...
these days of "quitting"...
             because what could be fun
about an absolute cold-turkey...
when you have a stash of...
  600 cigarettes... and... if the math is
about right...
and since the free movement of
people is a rapunzel dream off-the-cuff...

600 cigarettes... if i get it right...
move from 2 per ritual of going to bed...
into 1... that's... either a year
with missing 56 days somewhere...
no rolling tobacco though...
look m'ah! no bongs no syringes!
look p'ah! no snorting bleeding nose...
no... plum bruises from...

as long as there's an inhibition period...
a period of: i wish i could send
a postcard from... Basildon, Essex...
to... someone obliterated by a craze-maze
of lights... like... whatever...

i just heard stories...
                  about the effects of other drugs...
but... it's not like they come back...
with straitjackets to rekindle old flames
of "crossing the threshold" within
the confines of tobacco and alcohol...
moderately: well: not to quote the ideal
units consumed...
     i'm pretty sure i read some pickwick papers
today and... dickens "forgot" some...
conjunction words...
unless of course: his style...
                    -open            
                          to question-
                        esp. adjectives that...
or is it... nouns that act like this that and the other:
as if verbs...
            
    roughly half an hour... the full extent of
a cigarette...
the very first is probably the same
as the "very first" when you're "quitting"...
from circa 20 per day...
to 2-a-day...
                      "quitting" and first getting
hooked...
           the whiskers and fire fathers
                                   of the apache
              are a balancing act that follows...
oh sure... i'll quit smoking...
when the ritual is over...
i have left the casual smoker behind...
somewhere... over coffee...
over the tradition of that cigarette after
a meal: the digestifs smoke-up...
i left these smokers behind...
the nervous smokers...
the waiting at a bus-stop smokers...
the after *** smokers...

          the day is coming to an end...
i'm going to enjoy some music...
drink a little... i'll start calling this smoking
cigarette pattern... what? what else?!
my tobacco ramadam!
chances are... i'll still be unable
to appreciate roxy music...
   and the english dandy...
                       the music is here...
the little bit of *****... and the "pipe"!
here comes my face...
here comes the zoo...
            
             but i'm quitting... "quitting"...
the wolf of wall st. -
                      drug addict... that all depends
on how you treat tobacco...
the cigarette... abstaining for a day...
after a "hiatus" from healthy breathing...
viruses and car zinc and lead exhausts...
cow farts...
                  
    a terrible way to treat tobacco...
i find... is the casual... informal way...
a bit like... internet access...
whoever grew up with it being stationary...
like... a telephone... or a phonebox...
it was never carried:
always a returned to:
like a swizz safety-deposit box
in a bank... that could...
bypass tax regulations and subpoenas...

the good old days...
saturdays the park... the high street...
the car park... climbing to the top
and spitting phlegm bombs at people...
peter ******* richardson...
and kieran o'mahoney...
samuel richards...
         a ****** among the irish...
in england...
then again: richardson...
eh...
                                   ascot?
      i.e. a shcoot?!
                    the break between my first
ritual cigarette...
         and my closing affair for the night...
whether i drink less or not...
in the middle of the night
i wake up on the floor...
         i sleep on the floor for about
an hour... two demons want to ****
in my bed... then i'm thrown back into
the bed of cushions and mattress...
  only yesterday i killed someone in my dream...
and i was... like the zodiac killer...
anonymous...
i heard hook & sinker teases of:
the crime scene read like a crime thriller...
to appease the ego...

two days running thrown out of bed...
this is a terribly composed...
it is... "quarantine" poetics...
i'm "quitting" smoking...
                   i'm making tobacco...
i'm giving tobacco ritual rites...
                   no lazy tobacco smoking...
end of the day... ms. amber in hand...
maxing out on 2!
the next two? the next day...
              the same packet of cigarettes...
2 inside with a lighter...
wrapped up using about 10 rubber bands...
a like-for-like replica of
pin-heads "tattoo geography"...

       yes... because... someone's nearing
the snorting olympics?!
           if all you were given...
was tobacco and alcohol...
             the first one... oh! mein! gott!
it feels like being a teenager... once more...
and experiencing the alcohol carousel
for the very first time...
tobacco? that came later...
after the alcohol... after the ****...
the **** came in age 21...
the tobacco came in... age 21.09...
whatever that implies...

                      it's nice... though...
absitance... you wait for the entire day...
by the of it... some variant of... tourette's kicks
in... it's all very nice asking for
cupcakes and bagels...
scones and daffodils:
or... suicide by: lily-of-the-valley...
i.e. room filled with them...
and no ventilation...
talk about... no hanging... projects...
of Seneca cutting wrists in a bath...
just... getting drunk...
and being allowed to fall asleep
in a vacuous room filled with
lily-of-the-valley bouquets...

             we can talk about suicide... no?
when... it's... beautiful? no? ha!
how was the hemlock... prescribed?
as a drink?
             i... it's almost irritating that...
i will not write anything more sensible
after i take the 2 cigarette to the grave of sleep...
no matter...
i wasn't hoping to invest in much:
today gave me enough.

screaming and crying, not on the outside but soon
I found it dad
I found your baggie of ****
the SF muni rolls past Mariposa St
I did not want to believe it
when I saw the make shift bongs
not ****, bongs
how many of the ******* things do you need

I know it’s big in the gay scene to smoke **** before ***
but I thought you could find other ways to enjoy yourself
did your new boyfriend wean you on to it
I’ll ******* **** him
lock me up, I have always wondered if I would like solitary

you brought the make shift glass pieces to thanksgiving
you don’t even live with us anymore
but you brought it anyway
the SF muni scoots past Wawona St
guess you needed your fix
guess your kids, the genetic bits of yourself, were not  entertaining enough

I could always think
naw, I bet he is smoking hash out of those
but then I found the baggie today
in a long rectangular bag I found the shards
I cried in horror
there was room for more than 10 grams of **** in there

so now I’m on the bus headed home
I run from the bus stop all the way home
all out sprint, hoping to run myself docile
It does not work

I get to the house and find a hammer
I decide to unload my anger on an old wooden door laying on the side of the house
I get a few good swings in before the hammer head breaks off, flying across the back yard
I’m not calm yet
I get to our garage door
and I snap

I see red, I scream my throat raw and I kick our garage door
I do not expect it to cave’
but it does
I feel the weight giving out against the sole of my boot
for the first time today, I am winning at something

I kick
I see my father
I kick some more
I see my father’s addiction personified beneath my boot
It’s face miming the expression, ‘Sorry, not sorry’

I give it one final kick and inspect my handiwork
I’ll have to come back out with a different hammer to fix the door before my mom comes back home from work
****
I thought I was a calmer person than this
I go upstairs and pass out
I want you to see my grandkids, dad
you won’t be able to while on that ****
I walk by or open my garage every day
every day I think about how such a beautiful man could come to a place where **** is the answer

Control the guns. Or unload on one. Under the hopeless sun. Or control the shooters who stole his future.
Patrol in stupor when the gaping hole is super. Rolling in supras.
Holding and maneuver, round the bend. Good lord, glad I found the pen. But white men found the pen. In there, Black men down and spent. And they're wasting away in the pen. Write a letter to their friends. Either their behind the bars, or drinking in bars, or rhyming these bars. Spit it like I got tobacco juice in my mouth. Another shooting in the south, while I watch from the couch.

Kendrick said we gon be all right. And I'll believe him, when everyone has the same rights. When the white man know wrong from right. But just because you're light in your skin, it doesn't mean you're gone from light. Let this song break fights. Still though, as long as we're nice, you'll still invite us to smoke bongs and pipes.

But when the summer heat scorches the streets and the Porsches, next to the fortress with the smooth grain porches, you will ignore this. Warning shot coming at you, hot enough to light torches. I wake up every day thinking life is gorgeous, but at night I still walk like the tortoise.

No more of this.

Blood spilling on the pavement, now you wonder why I lounge in the basement. They say practice patience. They say keep waiting. They say there's saving. Pop a pill, forget about life, start raving. Po-po after the po, so send Edgar Allen Poe with a raven. Calling us kings, like this Game of Thrones, but this war is ancient. God vs. Satan. Medusa vs. the Maiden. Neo vs. all the agents.

Take hits before I escape to the matrix. Tired of eating fake ****. Make spliffs, out of makeshift wooden ships, that Cuba Gooding Jr. Gripped. Won't take lip, go and save it. Why are they loved and we hated?

Emotion flowing from the mac and the healing potion flowing from the track. Go in the back. Put the slow motion in the stacks, the records from class, tethered in snacks. America's anger is growing in fact, because every one knowing life's back. Shoot the body and throw it in the back. Fiction, or reality? Turn on the television, that has driven your vision to a complacent state of living. And you wonder why we're so forgiving?

But we're never forgetting. This here is armageddon. This is how life be when karma getting to be like, getting to be like, getting to be like fatal. Like Cain did abel. Death, or disabled. Missed the fable, because I kissed the label. Then the bottle, as I went and risked the stable. Now I'm gathering my crew and we're ****** and a holes.

Hear the shot ring from Baton Rouge to Chicago. Thinking about becoming a florist. Foreigner in this land of tourists. Listening to beats from Morris. Joshua hit me up for the chorus. How many black Americans need to die? If it were white people, would you ignore this?

As our States go into a state of confusion
In the passing of their passing of laws
Saying now that all their fine citizens
Can freely lay out and get ******

As a matter of fact haven't they been doing that
For years if my minds working correctly
I guess the difference now when they lounge around
They can freely puff on it legally

So let's all take the bongs out of hiding
And add some fresh liquid to it
Invite over the neighbors you've never talked to
To share in a neighborly spliff

It'll certainly make everyone happy
When we come together and roll up a fatty
Don't worry if to this party your a newbie
Here take a hit off this doobie

We'll order out pizza
And crank up Netflix
Watch My Little Pony
And laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and...

Wait...now where was I? Oh Yea!

So let's take all the bongs out of hiding

Hold on...have I already said that?
Dude, this is freaking me out!  Lol!

Oh okay, here we go...

You can now grow your own
On your very own farm
But instead of deep in the woods
It can now be your front yard

Of course all the neighbor kids
You'll have to watch
As they pass by your place
And pick from your crops

So then you'll have to invest
In a scary guard dog
To keep them at bay
And out of your plot

But of course you'll be ******
And forget that he's there
Where he'll end up hungry
And start eating his share

There goes your profit
There goes your crop
Plus all the time you'll spend behind the dog
With a baggy waiting for doggie do do drops

But then again the government
May not let you grow your own stuff
As you wait for the F.D.A.
To authorize all your drugs

And we all know when you get
The government involved
Bureaucratic common sense
Too often gets lost

Maybe this legalization thingy
Is not the best of ideas
Things seemed to run smoother
When we all kept our *** hid

End,
The True Tip of my Tongue,
(Enchanted Bronchial Tree),
holding out the
Cavern of Soft Sultry Silhouettes
that hug the walls.
Clinging to their influence able nature,
tendency to allow pink purity
to fall
to the black blistering blasphemy
of *****-watered bongs.
Inhaling the Damnation of god
And Magic Meal of
Those residing in Gehenna,
Limbo,
And those scouring the pearly whites of
heaven for their 72 ******
***** Calls.
The desperate stench
Of religion
crawling down
my needy trachea
to attach its
sticky suction cup sermons,
trying to trick
My larynx into
Hallelujah’s
And
Hail Mary’s.
Hoping repetition
will etch it into
our subconscious
like a gravestone
set in stone.
So repent,
saunter back into your pen little sheep.
False Anarchic Prophet,
Pretend Goat.
Throw your brain back into the box,
The Individuality Dishwasher,
They built for your mind from the
Start.

You think you are someone of great strength in mind,
as you belittle all the people around you,
for the sake of not appearing kind,
because it was the only thing you knew.
Taught to be tough and a big boy,
you can go and use a gun as a toy,
become accustomed to the ability to destroy.
As you see nothing wrong from stealing the light in one's eyes,
being the artist of their demise,
as you ruin their families lies.
BANG, BANG, BANG,
goes the gun in your hand,
over a dead body you stand,
just as you planned.
Put that hit on that sonofabitch,
it went off without a hitch,
now you a man who put someone in a ditch.
The only sacrifice is morality,
but you are so young, you don't see the brutality,
only the gangster mentality,
so you can live in the violent normality,
not realizing that you have lost touch with reality.
But that is a life that no longer belongs,
replaced by coke, *** and bongs,
you will never know that what you do is wrong,
until you hear the bell's gong,
and it is you who is gone.

On the fifth day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

On the second day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

On the eleventh day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
11 ragin' reefers
10 lightin' lighters
9 hefty island boys
8 bowls of cereal
7 dabs of oil
6 blazin' bubblers
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

On the eighth day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
8 bowls of cereal
7 dabs of oil
6 blazin' bubblers
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

On the ninth day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
9 hefty island boys
8 bowls of cereal
7 dabs of oil
6 blazin' bubblers
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

Surrounded by many,
stuck in a crowd.
Midst numerous persons,
midst noises so loud.
I’m often in groups, in herds, in throngs,
meeting new people- Punjabis or Bongs.
Laughs and greets
as though in trance.
dancing on beats
as though having a chance.
I seem to be calm, normal and happy.
I’m far for thus, I feel so ******.
Truth be told, I’m the classic case
of being alone midst many a face.
But when the darkness surrounds and
helplessness sets in,
I remind myself
of what it takes to win.
We come into this world
single, alone.
Exit the same way,
ensuring it shone.
Keep up thy spirit- it’s what counts the most.
Ensure your life deserves a celebrated toast.

Bongs,*****, and *****.
No ***** given,
Dumb doobies taking a snooze

Only one true love though.
Touching me in heaven,
Making me feel beautiful yo

Society, seclusion, and ceremonies.
No blessings given,
Hippies hang Uno the key

Typos, trends, trumps.
Everything is so intertwined y woven,
I gotta get outta my slump

Only, one, and unto.
The end a *****
For you I do

The surprise of my life.
My lucky # 7,
For my love, my past life.
My universal heaven,
I would take any slated knife

When kids pop more pills than balloons
at a fair, take more rips from bongs
than Beyblades, shake hands with *****
dollars and plastic bags, steal more money
than hearts, are in more mugshots than family
photos, **** more than war, sell more ****
than lemonade, read more billboards than books,
go through more girlfriends than socks in a week,
text more than they write, inject more ******
than flu vaccinations, drink more beer than fruit punch,
put their lips around more pipes than Popsicles,
and die more than live;
then we'll know we've failed them.

On the sixth day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
6 blazin' bubblers
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

the morning after always hurts the worst
hazy brain
summersault stomach
and where in the hell is my car

i want a pizza
or two

it was nice to see you
i've missed your smile
and condensed stare
and the shape that your lips make while you confess your love to the beer bottle's neck

that explains the jameson
and all the beers at the bar
the beer bongs at the after party
and why i could stomach the strippers

it was all you
so nice to see you

why do i always feel guilty when the sun comes up

no one got a black eye
i didn't grab the mic
and my clothes stayed on until i was safely home
although
the cab driver may have caught a glance

to think
i'm "all grown up"

i'm not at all sorry
not for the whiskey gut
or the fire i'll throw up
or the kisses that i didn't plant along your collar
i'm still the same floral-print ship-wreck at the bottom of the bottle

my mother once said that the only people worth clinging to
are those who see all of your greatness outweighing your flaws

you still see the holes in my tights
and my falling hem line
not the honey sweet legs they shape
or the hips and thighs that the denim hides
i'll be just fine as the german genie in the bottle of irish whiskey

witty
and slack-jawed
and ready to kiss the lips off the face of the clock
and two shots away from dancing with the cops
i look great in hand-cuffs
i'll whistle the whole way to jail

small victories weigh the most
and right now
i feel like muhammed ali

thanks, babe

here's two asprin that glow better than your eyes
and they're mine
waiting to chase away the pain that came up with the sun
here's to endings that aren't a safe bet
here's to sleeping alone
here's to new mistakes
just waiting to happen

*water never tasted so good to me

On the tenth day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
10 lightin' lighters
9 hefty island boys
8 bowls of cereal
7 dabs of oil
6 blazin' bubblers
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

I wanna Play this trumpet

louder than you

quicker thank monkeys

flinging their poo

daylight, nighttime

anywhere at all

****** up **** ups drop and crawl

for me

to blow my horn

like you blow ****

brass, ***, grass

and **** that’s sick

drunk off beer

and question marks

evil smirks

in trailer parks

cigarettes

and jacking off

hitting bongs

until I cough

choke

i spoke

too quick

again,

***, brass, and **** that’s sick

walking through the big flea market

off of highway 19 north of Tampa

looking for whatever and something

curious and kitsch or campy



merchants selling in the parking lot

used blenders and old cameras

burnt out or faulty devices

DVD cases and game cartridges



old rednecks shout out opinions

in a cacophony of drawled signifiers

representing visions of despotic rulers

reigning a tyranny of taxes and decline



old glass containers and windshields shine

scattering high afternoon sunlight in the Sunday sky

sitting and resting used and content waiting

waiting for the wear and reduction of time



the market continues into indoor aisles

criss-crossing within a ramshackle structure

plywood walls supporting sheet metal roofing

an aroma of every greasy food wafting into one



people wrapped in worn fashions

whites in Ts and denim

muslim women in headscarves

a black deputy strapped down in uniform



the deputy enforces commerce laws

around the alternative marketplace

a variety of commodities are still available

bongs and e-cigs and incense and **** ****



parakeets cry out down one aisle

a stack of blue aquariums drone a bubbling hum

the stench of cedar and rat **** and hamsters

reptiles basking in the arid glow of heat lamps



all is right in America’s America

the flea market is the floorboard of that promise

an opportunity for anyone to begin

or start again and over and over



a liberal conservatism can be guarded well

with rifles or tazers at bargain rates

a conservative liberalism is applied openly

in the atmosphere of everyone for anything and everything



the dream of the flea market

a black market and a carnival

all of America’s cheap art on display

its people swirled into one



equal in their struggles and desires

reaching for resources and derivatives

buying low and selling higher

stealing and selling short



walking through the big flea market

on a hot and cloudless Sunday afternoon

looking for whatever or something

it’s a fun thing to do


**originally posted to my blog https://sublimeobscenities.wordpress.com on 4/27/2014

In all directness I’ve lost my voice.
Enveloped by an irrational fear
of picking up the pen.
Thinking twice about every line.
As we shift and life materializes
before our eyes we find it harder
to say the things worth saying to ourselves.

Calm that beating heart, let it rest.

This life is tumulus.
Like a disappointed teenager
backdoor rebel, your biker
all bruised and blue
the guy who lies to you
out of habit or the girl
who’ll spread her legs
just to make sure beds
stay warm, or the grocer
who’ll stock rotten fruit
to meet the bills or people
who **** for oil, for drugs, for fun.

Disappointed, every last one of them.

So we fight back,
by puffing on our bongs
by disconnecting to our palms
by blasting the music on some large
stereo system, surround sound, or 3D vision
we spray paint on walls, or we fall prey to our whims
we bet on winning three hands straight
or decide we know our own fate,
or some of us just sit,
and wait,
for something, anything to happen
to shatter, to break apart, to give birth to some
black hole that’ll **** it all up and spit out something
back again. Anything we can reshape or begin.

But after chaos comes even more chaos.

And with loss comes anger,
mounted, building, and enraged,
like raised pitchforks chasing town monsters,
oh the horror, some of us might not bare to see it
won’t believe it, or try to bargain it away,
and not feel the earth shake from aftershock.
It’s too difficult to soak it up.
Let’s not tear down what is functioning fine
Just so we can live another lie?
I’m fine with mine, where it rests inside
a mask so well displayed,
that even I believe it some days.

Why change?

The question that lingers on the page,
Stumped by fear of jumping out of comfort zones,
Paralyzed by the thought that home
isn’t where you heart is, but rather,
the space your spirit needs to breathe.

And with that word
the realization of responsibility,
this burden it makes,
this weight that we can’t wait
to throw off to
another day, maybe
another time, maybe
could you keep your voice
down lady? Just after this last drink
baby, and I swear I’ll get back to you,

hey, I want my rite of passage too.

But the world moves too fast,
asks too much, doesn’t know when
to stop, drunk on its own axis,
either get off your *****
or be swept by the tide,
because there’s no where
you can run and hide
no matter how hard you try
you’re gonna have to listen to what you already know.

But guess what happens to people like that?

They grow.

freezing garage grav **** hits
hands shaking, lungs quaking

drunken moms vomiting dead center
in king sized beds on graduation night

fast girls climbing wildly out of little sister's window
once the street lights lay low

dark basements full of *****, boys, and bongs
building our bad habits

homesick, always homesick,
for a place that doesn't exist

wind was sweeping darkness
clouds cluttered the horizon
in all directions
encircling clear, midnight sky
foreshadowing the full moon
shiny, twinkly things beamed brightly
in pollution’s absence
mulberry, guava and palm
swayed in silhouette
dancing to wind chime songs
soft clacks, tinkles and bongs
fragrant breezes carried ocean
like a sweet smelling memory
gently stirring the stillness

A clock bongs out its chime
As we look at the time
That's never really acknowledged
until the hour is running out.

Cast sideways glances
never full attention
except for the ones
who have no intention

Around in circles I go
the same old same old
just counting up
then down
then up again.

And I grow weary
my movements becoming dreary
but time is moving faster
as around and around in circles I go.

Until I finally stop
with my one last tick-tock
and time is lost
until the batteries are rebooted

And I start new again
my cycle of endless circling
I'm 1, I'm 2, I'm 3, I'm 4
Ticking away to the end once more.

On the fourth day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

On the twelfth day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
12 tangy totos
11 ragin' reefers
10 lightin' lighters
9 hefty island boys
8 bowls of cereal
7 dabs of oil
6 blazin' bubblers
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.

Moving in was a *****.
Three tiny flights of stairs.
Night three and we finally had dinner.
Macaroni and cheese on the floor.
I was sad for the first few months.
Crying on the futon.
Crying in my bed.
Crying on the floor.
Crying in the shower.
Crying on your shoulder.
Netflix, Redbox, and Cooltv.
Dragging bags of clothes to the laundry room.
You and Cody played guitar.
We had a live show every night.
You wrote beautiful music.
And stopped singing if I cried.
Turning conversations into poetry.
You introduced me to Becca.
Little did I know, she'd be my best friend.
Getting drunk.
Getting high.
Smoking out of bongs.
Smoking joints.
Smoking bowls.
Smoking blunts.
Trying to find something to smoke.
The light in the bathroom stopped working.
We had to smack it for it to turn on.
That stopped working too.
The candle caught on fire.
Your drunk friend threw it into the sink.
I almost killed him.
We slept together sometimes.
We slept apart.
We slept with other people.
I took out my dreads to make myself feel better.
Shang was in West Virginia the whole time.
But he was in the living room every day.
We rolled...so many times.
Laughing at everything.
Going on toilet paper missions.
The futon broke.
New rule: no *** on the futon.
Playing Circle of Death, we got to know each other.
The ring of beer stains around the coffee table.
Bats chirping right outside my window.
We discovered our super powers.
I don't remember my birthday party.
The Christmas party.
Justin got me drunk on white Russians.
Slow dancing with Brian.
Mouth ****.
Jello shots.
You never carved the turkey cookie.
New Year's Eve someone kicked in the door.
It was broken for months.
The next few months were the last ones.
I didn't want to leave.
The apartment was our home.
We ****** up, we grew up, we threw up.
There's no place home.

15 years old:
invite a group of friends over
to sit in my empty living room
with brand new wood floors -
we’re renovating

proof: I’m not poor

16 years old:
hang out of my sister’s
bedroom window,
swing into wet mulch,
steal away to twone’s
to get hammered and
touch my first ****

proof: I’m not afraid

18 years old:
lament over the fact
that I’m the last senior
alive without a cell phone

you got the flip, *****,
happy birthday

proof: I’m one of you

21 years old:
rip six foot bongs,
squirt jaeger bombs
into mouths from a gallon jug,
***** black sushi sacrifice

proof: I can hang

22 years old:
get caught with drugs
in 90 degree Arizona desert,
make friends with drug dog,
tell the truth while you take a ****,
sit in a cell and make plans
to call brother for bail

proof: the truth won’t always set me free

11 years old:
go into a department store
with my auntie,
heavy footsteps follow,
head to the juniors department,
heavy footsteps follow,
turn round, see an old man,
think, ‘he must be shopping for
his granddaughter’

proof: innocence is blind

have to ***, head to the bathroom,
heavy footsteps follow
with ragged breathing,
watch as Velcro sneakers stand
just beyond the door my stall,
curl into a ball and
wait, wait, wait,
as my brain takes on silent screaming

proof: I am nothing but prey

hear the next stall door
creak open,
watch feet walk in and legs
begin to bend,
explode out of stall
into store,
find auntie and begin
hyperventilation and
true demonstration of fear

proof: I am a woman now