the boy who was treated differently from the families



you see young mr thomas jordan really hated his family, thinking they were different to him

or something, and thomas did a few things wrong like grabbing mouths of all his best mates

because he had mulit personality disorder or something, you see thomas was afraid of getting kidnapped

but, what was really going on, the bad guys decided to treat him like one of them, but thomas didn’t want

that because he was too good for them but because thomas was uneducated, he was the chosen one

to get bashed by these heavies, you see the heavies said, we  are big fierce hooligans and we are really

rough, and thomas said back to them, i will never be like you guys, and i am not like you guys, i believe

in family values, of course new age family values, not the old values, and thomas hated being treated like an old fogie

and the heavies said, we are big rough hooligans and thomas is one of us, he ain’t shy as long as he

understood, he is one of us, you see thomas said, no, leave me alone, i hate the hooligan life, you might be a hooligan

but i am not said thomas, and the heavies said SHUT UP you are still like us, and as long as you understand this

you will be fine, let the jordans do what they want, they are family people, but you thomas have a lot to learn about

family values, you see you do what we say forever, ok and thomas said, *******, i don;t want to be like you guys

i ain’t a hooligan like you, i like good old family values, but the heavies said, no dude, you have to do as we say

and thomas said, i will never hand money under a door, or i will never get caught up in robbing banks, because

it is a hard life if you do things wrong, i know i don’t meet the criteria for a family person but i am, i don’t want

to get caught under your trap and the heavies said, you are calling us a trap, we will come and bash you up

and thomas said, i hate the idea of violence in any way, and i have never put a foot wrong in the family’s eye

i prefer to not be approached by you, because committing crimes ain’t my thing, the heavies said SHUT UP

OR I WILL GET MY HEAVIES TO CONSTANTLY BEAT YOU, and then the heavies told thomas we are big hooligans

and so are you, if you don’t cooperate with us, we will have you bashed, it’s not kidnapping, it’s bashing, because

thomas, you are not a family person, you are a hooligan just like us, but thomas was very scared, you see he didn’t want to commit

crimes, he just wanted to stay in his humble home and occasionally go out to fun street events, but the heavies said

hey thomas, i won’t say your last name, because you are nothing like them, you are one of our hooligan brigades

you see thomas was very scared, he hates the idea of being with these heavies, and then thomas went to beach

and met up with Butch the surfie dude who used his back to squash it on thomas, making it hard for him to breathe

and he was trying to say, i am a family person, i don’t want any trouble, but butch kept on pushing his big sunburnt back

right on thomas and he was laughing because this was going to be thomas’s last day alive, you are one of us, butch said

to thomas, and you will never be like the jordans, because they are nice to us, and you are not, you see thomas you look like

you hate us or that we are the **** of the earth, and we will treat you like one of us forever and thomas yelled out HELP HELP KIDNAP

KIDNAP, but Butch and the heavies said SHUT UP *******, you are still one of us forever, thomas became very scared

because he wants to popular amongst the families, because he is a fun loving guy, and everyone will say he is gentle and butch said

you are about as gentle as a big crocodile who is about to snap and thomas got his key and scratched butch’s back, and this made

butch very angry and butch grabbed thomas and threw him out to the vicious sharks and thomas was killed, and butch said

he is a wild hooligan, who just killed the last remaining troublemaker, but the jordans decided to turn the crowd off them and

said, he will lock them all in his shed, you see thomas was a real fun loving family person and we will make you pay for that

thomas went to his next life as a nice quiet buddhist boy, who was struggling to get these crazy person voices out of his head

it’ll take a while i guess.

the end

It's ... " Hard To Find " ... !!!  
Some ... " Peace of Mind " ... !!!
  
When What Surrounds Makes You Feel Down ... !!!  
MANY Now Try ... Good Old Coc' Lines ... !!!  
To Ease Their Minds In ... PRESSURED Times ... !!!  
  
So MANY Now Are White Line HOUNDS ... !!!!!  
    
It's HARD TO FIND A Mind That's Sound ...    
And DOESN'T Buy Coc' ... By The Ounce ... !!!!!  
    
Such Chemical Highs Are Now Supplied ...  
To Kids As If ... Being High's Just Fine ... ?!?  
    
It's JOKED About From Scripts of Rhyme ...  
To TV Shows ... BEFORE Bedtime ... !?!  
    
Are They Saying Refuse ...  
Or .... Give Them A TRY ... !?!
    
I'm A Bit Confused Is It WRONG Or RIGHT ... ?!?  
To Take Drugs That Could ... TAKE Your Life ... ?!?  
Or Even WORSE ... That of YOUR CHILD ... !!!!  
    
As I Said Before I'm Really Not Sure ... ???  
Because So Many ... Choose To Ignore ...    
Until Drug HEAVIES Reach Their Door ... !!!!  
    
See It's HARD TO FIND Some Peace of Mind ...  
If You're The Type ... Who Is Inclined ...  
To Think of MORE Than ... Getting High ... !!!  
    
I Guess That's Me ... !?!  
Someone Who Sees That ... Peace of Mind ...  
Is Worth More Than ... A Stack of Cash ... !!!!!!  
    
Finding Peace of Mind Helps Me Unwind ................................  
And Helps Me Write My Thoughts In Rhyme ...  
    
Thoughts That Make My Mind State BREAK ...  
Into A Place ... That's NOT SO Great ... !!!  
    
One That Leads To ... War NOT Peace ... !!!!  
A Place I Find ... But Choose To RELEASE .........................................  
    
Because of What It Breeds In Me ...
A Mind Inclined To Get ANGRY ... !!!!!  
About The Ways Societies ...
KEEP DAMAGING Humanity ... !?!  
    
From Relationships That Now Don't Click ...  
WITHOUT Fake Bits Or Things That BLING ... ?!?  
To Those Who Think ... THINKING's A SIN ... ?!!!?  
    
My Mind Like The World ... Constantly Spins .............................  
When I Observe How People Live ....  
    
So Peace of Mind Is HARD TO FIND ... !!!!!  
If You're Inclined To ... Read The SIGNS ... !!!  
    
Many ............. Are NOT ... !!!  
    
So Will Get SHOCKED ...  
When What They See CAN'T BE Denied ... !!!!!!!!  
Their Eyes Will Then Be Opened WIDE ... !!!!!!!!!!  
When Fate Decides To ... END Their Ride.  
    
NO MORE Good Times Or POSITIVE Vibes ...  
When Those Who've PROSPERED Have To COLLIDE ... !!!  
With Those They've Tried To ... CONQUER And DIVIDE ...    
    
What Is This Place ... ?  
Could The MATRIX Be It's Name ... !?!    
Where Politics .... CONTROLS The Game ... ?!?  
    
Well I'll Explain This ....  
Through This Simple Script ...  
  
For Those Who'll CLAIM ...  
That I'm ... " Quite INSANE " ... !!!!!!!  
    
See ... POLY Can Mean MANY ...  
Kind of Like ... COMPLEX ...  
  
Or ... MORE Than One ...  
  
And A Tick Is ... YES ...  
A BLOODSUCKING Insect ... !!!!!  
So YES ... You've Guessed ...  
We've Got PROBLEMS ... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
    
When The Matrix Is Set ...  
And CLEARLY RUN By ... MANY of Them ... !!!!  
    
So USE Your Head HEED What I've Said ... !!!  
Do Government Sects Really Do What's BEST ...
For Those With ... LESS ... ?!?  
Or Just PROTECT ... Their Own Interests ... ?!?  
    
See Peace of Mind Is ... " HARD TO FIND " ... !!!  
    
If You Listen and Observe And Dis-sect What You Learn ...  
If You Turn A Blind Eye You May Get BURNED ... !?!  
So PLEASE Be Wise And Remember These Words ... !!!  
    
What's ... Good For YOU ...  
May Be ... Good For ME TOO ... !!!  
    
So ... DON'T You Think ... !!!  
I'm Preaching or Teaching ... !!!!!  
I'm Simply Speaking And Making Links ...  
    
That Help Me Find Some Peace of Mind ...  
Through Words I Rhyme When I Sit And Write ...  
    
But Truth Be Told As Time Unfolds .......................................  
The People of The World Are LOSING Their Souls ... !!!  
    
And MUCH MUCH WORSE Are TAKING LIVES ... !!!!!!  
Which I Guess Is Why When I Think About Life ...  
    
Some .... " Peace of Mind " ...  
    
Is ......  
    
........ " HARD TO FIND ! " ........

there's a guy
sequestered
someplace in a
secret location

his job is to keep
****** alive

since the purported
death of mein Fuhrer
this has become the
most important job
in the world

with ****** alive
and well, we know
what evil looks like
and it sports a
funny mustache

compared to ******’s
lip growth even
old Beelzebub’s
goatee looks
kinda cute

with ****** alive
nations churn out
industrial strength
collateral damage
on the scale of a
Fortune 500
sausage maker
wholly blessed
with the
moral impunity
of profiting on
the war on
terror

assembly lines
manufacturing
the stewed vats
of pink slime
soylent green
lays a wide grin on
Henry Ford’s face
watching happy
Chinese proles
grind through
the day’s
bleating stocks
grateful to have
a wage paying job

we are
the righteous
dudes,

hanging ten on
Malibu pipes
water boarding
the terrorists

pouring waves of
umbrellaed  
Coolattas down
the desert thirsty
gullets of
dead enders

and they don’t
even have
the decency
lay a tip on
their earnest
servers

freakin
barbarians

we are the
empowered
heavies
licensed to
dispatch
immediate
fast food
have it your way
justice,
with
drone strikes
on reprobate
Americans who
spent their last
bill of rights on
a Happy Meal
of Freedom Fries
leaving the
executioner
begging for nickel
change so he
can pick up
a dime bag
of the best
Afghan horse
after laying a
bullet between
old Osama’s
cross crooked
eyes

when civilized men
begin to wonder
if the modus operandi
of intelligence
gathering could be
construed as torture,
we point northward
to scurrying Koreans
sneaking briefcase
nukes over the the
southern border
cleverly disguised
as Chicano grape
pickers heading
for Napa.

in national
tantrums of
undulating
shock and awe
we launch
cruise missiles
to deliver the
news of a well
considered
Bush Doctrine
self conferring the
sweet liberty
to detonate
bunker busters
in noble strikes
of preemptive
interventionism

we hate war
so much
we initiate
warfare before
a war breaks out

we reserve
first strike
blitzkrieg
prerogatives
as an exalted
strength to
alleviate the pain
of enduring
the weakness of
protracted peace

we are firm in the
belief that the blasted
dust from our bombs
form the cornerstones
of future democracies

to serve the greater
global good, America
has dispatched a
humanitarian team of
Navy Seals to East
Africa to get Kony

we’re rooting out this
bad guy whose
trying to implement
his twisted version
of a Santorumish
10 Commandment
based paradise

Kony is living proof that
Islamo Fascists don’t
hold a monopoly on
terror and though
Kony’s got some
powerful supernatural juju
Seals got motion sensors
that can spot a
cantankerous poltergeist
through the darkest jungle
canopies

it also will minimize
the risk of friendly fire
casualties

they’ll have to be careful
not to wander into
the disputed oil fields
of southern Sudan
and they’ll need to
be mindful of Chinese
engineers building
pipelines and refineries

But thank goodness
that guy has kept
the touchstone of evil
alive and well.

we’ll always
recognize it
when we see it
and get hot
on the trail of
******’s latest
incarnations
when they
show their
ungodly face

civilized people
demand justice

and we will not rest until
Kony’s head is displayed
atop a spike on YouTube
buzzing with the hum
of ecstatic flies joining
the chorus of happy
tribesmen singing
kumbaya with
stirring gratitude
from the aboriginal
comfort of their
mud and
grass huts

****** lives
Osama is dead
Lets get Kony

Music selection:

Smash Mouth,
Walking on the Sun

Oakland
May Day
5/1/12
jbm

I tried to put my heart in the sink
but it just lapped up the water
and swam
It likes to move like wind
fluid in the water
It just gets bigger
not losing any big spots
traveling like a road
seated in all the areas
sitting in the sink
like a dish you can't scrub
because it is too old
It cried on the insistence toward itself
but it just loved all the new words it heard, clear water sloshing its own elbows
like everytime, it says this
adding a book to the shelf 'New Nonfiction'
and itself wrestled to freedom along a free Library
and it sings flat
without hearing itself
and when I tried to drop it where a mountain wouldn't use its arms to move into a torrent of rain
that only heavies a long area of ground
it tried to look away
because there is so much, always so much water where there is water
no drops as is on one bounced leaf
My heart does wear a necklace of a stream; it would rather be adorned
and it has such acute ears to the sound of the clear and blue
but leave's wetness can't spread into the depths of green and stay
a wet monster just patters the whole forest jungle like a drum
The leaves don't become like rags in the sink to wash the dirt on the ground
the dirt would just stick
so the water it just runs and runs
you can just tell by the sound
and since it can't get past the green
it sees the open land next to the large bush of trees and compares
why would it only water the grass to make the earth all plain like Kansas
it is something, it is drank, all of it, in eager swallows
the days even swallowing each other
and so the mind keeps living
Good information for the mind just happens to be like this
it gets from below and dirt and whatever wherever steady earth, and from the clearest above
'So wonderful the sky will come down and love on my ears
even though they don't remember
How I tire of the ground and its mutations
How I tire of the amount of blue things to drink
but they fall against me, my different lips
and I look as if I run with the water
because I think.
The blue runs with the green
and we are just painted like a book typing with rainy ink
and it is all that I can do
Carry the weight
until it lifts and I am left to myself
with a withering neverending need
At least it's not the air and spaces with ears
like a heart without shoulders
It's a forehead and wrists
that rest on the bed of the sky, upside down
because it is so hard to be a chronic rock
so heavy it needs to suspend with its head
away, to where rocks are fluid
How many stars are spread like water
still and concluded, like one neck looking down
saying my ears must be brave
my one pair of eyes against all those clear stars in the night
Good information makes my mind spin its wheels
back against the sky and back against the ground, walls
though left and right wheels keep spinning
hell and heaven my ears
The widest place inbetween
friendly space that carries them
held with hearing- those. Those sides of my head.
To-end to-end of my heart is how long the page must stretch
and how long it would take to roll the wheels in Finality up my brain and the sky
Much slower than the routine closing of a millionth eye I've broken open from the old

Maybe it started going down Peasley Canyon Road. I can't recall.
****.
Maybe it started with not giving, or not wanting to.
No matter really, that act was over, the lines were out and the curtain drawn.
It's funny what the mind drags up
on it's own.
Mine drags up things like lost telescopes, looked thru
and cracked plastic leather , that hadn't
yet.
I knew how that man on TV felt who had only months to live, as I had only weeks.
Only two.
So...I gave you my blue apres-ski sweater, too big, a ring I still wear, too big to0 and my love, that I suppose wasn't.
On the plane away it was like a mixer gone crazy inside me...part staying, part going.
Of the part that went along I lost or had it removed with drill parades and dope lectures, fighting fires you can't loose and paper targets.
Very surgically.
Letters to you had phrases like 'smashed psyche' (which I still can't spell) and 'never let go'.
Bunk beds can be fun until they're made of steel and draped with woolen blankets and someone's legs from Alabama.
One of my friends at camp turned me on and I became the barracks Dylan, I'm not sure whether Thomas or Bob.
After a hundred years and eleven weeks it ended
and started.
A nice lady at the airport gave us all the only ****** shot we'd e had in eighteen hundred hours.
I'd called, prior to leaving and you were there at the end of that in-and-out mouth that blows the people out and ***** them back in after the fuel
I'd grown tired of walking up that ramp in my dreams but that time, I left no tracks at all.
A blue dress with ruffles round the neck and those patterned nylons then the rage. I read a few days ago that holding hands feels good even in this day and age.
Send that lady a rose.
Two weeks can last 20 minutes, I know.
Then started the back and forth of school a thousand miles away and painful phone call and Conni ,signed with a circle above the i.We split and mended a couple of times and I read the Harrad Experiment and I got a purple note from Conni and I called to say... I'm not sure what.
Hello...goodbye.
Time went by and so did school.
I remember walking across this field in San Francisco and being depressed by how long it took for fifteen minutes to pass when one considered four years.
I flew home to you that weekend and was duly dropped from school the next.
I asked for some dreamed of tug boat in Puget Sound but got instead a minesweeper in Japan. We'de done the front seat and hurried basement tango and I called Conni to say
well, I'm not sure what.
Hello
Goodbye
Stairs and glass and a clutching you and a sick me.

October 10th, Nineteen Sixty Eight
A hand, a car, a reading, a letter, a truck, a plane, a train and another reading.
I think there were only five or six lines to it but it was enough.
No yo-yos, no pick me up and put me down again...ok?
OK, I love you.
A friend named Green, a hundred talks sometimes with wine, sometimes not. Letters and business calls to you, cycles with no keys and McGaha, Clarence BM1, unit of issue one each, houses and no overnights, Lt. Cris Curtis and no-trouble dissension, the Maharishi and July and you and me and you and me
The Astronauts made it and we did too,  by the gate to the new lake
"A small step for man, a giant leap for mankind."
He was almost right.

June 21st Nineteen Seventy
The shrink never seen and you in Southern California at four in the morning and the Kona Hotel.
Burning ears and imagined heavies sent to intercept us at the infamous glass door.Not the first time but the best time.
Flying home together you gave me the window seat and your hand, all I needed.

November 15th  Nineteen Seventy
Sea-tac Motor Inn, coffee and toast and love.
I'm glad you didn't come down cause Ed was there and he was bad enough at saying goodbye.
Calls to you from Hawaii and Kwajaline and Guam and islands no one ever heard of but fish and me.

T minus 180-179-179-177
ad infinitum
Goodbye Subic Bay, goodbye
Tricks to keep away reality like tapes from home and **** in the old man's coffee cup. Jokes told and re-told till we all re-laughed.
Who ever heard of Sea Detail at 3:30 in the morning?
Me, thank God.
Friend Green was gone from Hawaii too, so I left on the first plane. SoCal again as the news media calls it, two days of debriefing then
out
I can't remember if I took a bus or a cab to the airport nor can I really recall which gate or even if you were there.
I guess I start at the tunnel yelling "OUT, I"M OUT!
I don't know if it started going up Peasley Canyon road or down.

Now in this season
It smells like sweet honey nectar,
Thick, warm pollen that heavies the air, that
Overarching succulent sweetness I can
Never find. I'm nearly
Dreaming in the midst of day,
Lack of sleep sharpens this
Feeling of loss that doesn't coincide with
The growth around me - My mind
Is falling back a quarter year, another,
Chilled over somehow in direct sunlight -

                    My hunger could be assayed with
                    Those honeyed towers somewhere blooming, but
                    I've not been told where to find them -

Stumbling along with aching limbs and
Exhausted heart, forced anxious smile,
Can't seem to find these supposed fruits
That hang down at reach, give way to new days -
Just quiet, vacant preludes
Along all these miles of solitude.

Storyline/storytime....by me... Are we doing time? Or is time doing us all equally? What a disgusting question to ask such an unpaid slave, where snow falls tear dropped to all snaggled brains! Du-rag heavies, untamed, unashamed levies to be breached!

Young ones to teach not to come where we are. Where the birds meet the bars, where man and woman leave in cars, as we shall not!!! Where emotions run dry, smoke runs high to clouds that don't stop.... Share with another you selfish generation, you greedy of celebrations, you hold to thy god no feast!!!!

666 is your name, fires you've tamed, as on thine own knees you worship the beast!!! Blizzard time sledded children's fun is naught to be found, just shackles around to frighten your inner cold! All stories here go untold, for you are apart of that story! You yourself are the story!!!

The flattening of this moment. 
Hesitation pulls by and the years fill this second. 
The asphalt opened by the recent pattering burns our noses. 
In this coffin of olfactory citizenship, the town's halls are burnt. 

I am asked by the labels of stewardship how my knot is. 
My response multiple times heavies is the same, it is a question. 

My mind, behind the glass left behind in your watching, our gaze ritualized. 
But now forgotten, our love, now torn, our complete identity hidden, pulled away,set alone as the flu pushes it's way towards iur meals. 

Your intestines will **** down. In irritation, you open yourself for infection. 
The ants begin their flood. 
Bereft this skyscraper. 
And with them, my years of servitude, past, future and present. 
My future of, stripped away. 

Visions of my hands clasping the aluminum and moving the volume closer to its max. 

And this is gone as you begin to bubble. 
Inprisoned in your pearl green coffin. 

Your ears balloon and your eyes sink further into your skull. 
The air is not completely escaped the vessel grounding you. And transporting your cell's cessation onto more fertile ground. 

And I have lost you completely. 
I have questioned your love for me and I burn now. 
Spittle falls to my Oxford as I ponder my future.  

To move you as sworn. 
I. 
To say I love you. 
To move forward and forget all. 

To recognize the coal's glow. 
And to cover them, forgetting their resonance when combined. 

I will push this lie further into my future. 

You. 
Radiating tan. 
Covered with the sliver of silk. 
Red with the corpses of lives more exotic when crushed and heated. 

Did something happen? Was the cause your own?
Or a drunks from long before?
A shard of glass from the struggle of some prior Saturday?

I can't stop drinking. 
I dress in blacks and browns. 

And greys. 

The terrible muddled cover of a color neither masking nor portraying my innocence, my shame. 

Much hotter, I am told. 
The depths are. Ur I got away all concepts of torture. 
A new anguish from the ashes. 
Without absolution. 

Convicted that the cog's smoothness is a feather in the wind. 
I step into Time's antiquated machine and perform the rituals to spark its engine. 

The combustion, neither burns clean. Or soiled. 
It tells no story of the future I will hold. 
My rings burn in its power and my teeth chatter in the when-after. 

Hello mother. 
Brother. 
Lover. 

You. 
You who are bones. 
You who is the primordial soup. 
With ever hatching infant eyes. 

The most difficult part of the cold is not knowing what is dry or what is wet. 

Be it these eyes or this heart of mine. 

I transform and hide no longer. 
When my answer is given, the answer is;

"Which?"

Ourselves or the wounds she'd obtain?

the **** kids gaol episode 2



today at the **** kids gaol, billy was causing fights with george over the fucken milk

being spilt in the kitchen, and the officer had to break the fighting between them

and brad went into the drama room and the **** kid said, today we are going to

act out your whole life in a nutshell, and george didn’t share brads enthusiasm, as he thought

this was just the fucken screws, earning brownie points of us, and the **** kid gave george

a piece of paper for him to write the problem he has with screws out of him, as opposed

to letting the officers have it, every time things don’t turn out well, it’ll be better for the **** kid

to see his problems all mapped out for him, and billy got out at the wrong side of the bed, decided to

really pick on george as he wrote, and george said SHUT UP, i am trying to write my stuff out of me

and then george said how about you write your bad stuff out of you, and the **** kid gave him a pen

and paper, and said write stuff out of you, you see this is a reforming prison through the eyes of

me the **** kid, and despite it being unrealistic, and writing problems out of you, helps reform prisoners

you see, if we do it, other prisons will do it too, just write down all your silly tripe, and after they finish writing

it was handed to the **** kid, and the officers gave the **** kid, george and billy’s writing so the **** kid

can think about having these thoughts acted out in the drama room, HOW COOL, so we can find out whether

or not these criminals really wanted to commit these crimes, write to reform, brad was blaming billy for his mind

problems, and a big fight broke out, brad threw the first punch and billy fought back punching billy in the gut

forcing the officers to give brad and billy each a piece of paper each, to find out what was bothering each of them,

we have a new inmate at the **** kids gaol, you see there was a big ****** investigation in ballast over a man

named peter who killed his wife and kids, and the **** kid wanted to find out the best measures of reform for this

dangerous criminal.    when peter arrived at the **** kids gaol he was strip searched and told to put on a prison

uniform, then he was taken to his cell, and the **** kid said, keep an eye on him, if he fools around with the other

inmates, give him a piece of paper and force him to write, and i can find out what he can contribute to AAA TV

gaol, and then the **** kid had an idea, how about we make him a contestant on let’s make a deal, and i can arrange it

he wins the confession of a lifetime, where he confesses his sins and having mud thrown all over him

and the officers took peter to the showers, and billy was there saying, WELL WELL WELL, look who we have here

the guy who kills women and children to get through life, and the screws had to break up this fight, and gave

billy and peter a piece of paper to find out what caused the fight, and write the gunk out of them, and from what billy and

peter wrote, the **** kid said how about we show a late night show called billy and pete’s late night jamboree, and peter will

play a drama king called solomon, the **** kid said this would be cool, the **** kid went back to his drawing board, and had to

hire the heavies so billy and peter can’t escape while doing the show, peter started singing nothing but a good time to start the

first show and he explained he had no good times with the wife and kids, and killing them was the answer, and the **** kid said

how about you write about your bad times with your family and i can document it to make a show for drama group and peter

said fine, and went straight to work, the **** kid was happy that his prison was moving up in the world, PERFORM TO REFORM

brian gets captured, and then cam dan into the psych ward




you see brian and dan were 2 mates who stuck by each other, not in the fighting

way, but brian would let dan into his house, because he was too scared of what is going to happen to him

if he stayed where he lives, and brian and dan used to joke around about bombing every city

in the world, brian said, no, we don’t wanr to but dan was so much feeling sick, he wanted to

bomb every city in the world and ron bought dan into his HDU, and put him on an injection of risperidal

and some ****** to calm his nerves, but it’s hard to calm his nerves when as he slept, some of the inmates

attempted to burn him in his sleep and when he told the nurses they gave him some more ****** thinking

that he was too paranoid to know the truth and ron came up to dan to make sure he was alright

abd dan said ya know people are trying to burn me in my sleep and you fucken quacks don’t believe me

and ron said, if these people are trying to burn you, there will be ashes on the sheets, and dan said

i said they tried to burn me, i got up and told them to ******* and they did, but this has been going on all night

and ron said we must keep an eye on dan at night, because his problem is, he is just suffering from paranyoa

and we should get him home because i don’t think he is a threat to himself or others, he just wants to be protected

and he won’t get it in here and dan swore saying you fucken 2 faced ***** and he went home to ring up brian to see

if he could sleep there because he was getting paranoid that his neighbours were going to punch him and

brian invited him over and they still joked around about bombing USA, even though  brian still said no you don;t really want to do that

because remember the innocent people and brian’s head was messed up with dans negative thoughts he threw all his stuff over the

his balcony and while he was doing that, he heard voices saying, there is no way that your friend will have your thoughts because

he was only a kid when you a young adult, and brian, as he threw everything, he felt he was being driven to the sky by a spaceship

and then as he got to the top, these heavies came into his house and said, buddy, settle down, and then they phoned the police to

come over and brian was driven by police to ron’s HDU, and he still heard the voice, your matte isn’t the messiah, because he was only a kid

when you were a young adult and as soon as brian entered the HDU, a teenage girl was jabbing brian with a plastic fork and there was

a bikie from the rebels saying he is being held there against his will and charlie chaplin said  i put on a show for new years, and i love being here

and patty roe, who believes he was george washington spoke tp him saying, when i was president we didn’t have right wing governments

and brian really got on with those people but brian didn’t like the pheados that were under high security and ron had a good chat with brian

but still ron wanted to keep him on seroquel and start him on eppelim and these medications were being worked together to calm the delusions

even if brian believed the delusions, which he does, they still need to be calmed because some of the patients were ****** sick of brian’s talking

and then dan wanted to talk to brian, so he rang up the HDU and pretended to be brian’s brother so he could talk to him and brian felt scared of a few

of the rougher inmates but tried keep silent so he doesn’t get bashed by them, he just spoke to charlie and patty roe because they were 2 people

who are just in there because of their delusions and ron bought out the dinners and in 1 hour he bought out the medications and after that he clocked off

and went home to watch the cricket, Australia v England, and the next day, he had his breakfast in his usual place and then he clocked on into his HDU

and had a good conversation with charlie and then spoke to brian and there was a USA flag on TV, and brian said, george washington has been reborn

and ron asked, why would this mean that, and brian said, george washington needs to get out of here so he could go to the LODGE and patty said

yeah that’s right, i need to get released, because malcolm turn bull is doing a **** job and he needs to learn the old left wing ways and ron said, sorry

brian and patty roe, george washington is dead, ok and you need to understand that we are trying protect the people outside from both of your delusions ok

because, even though i think you ain’t dangerous, your actions seem dangerous and ron bought out the breakfasts and the morning medications and had a

laugh with patty roe and then after that bought brian and patty roe to the art group and then over to the delusion group and at night ron bought out the dinners

and the evening medications and clocked off and bought a pizza and went home to watch more cricket, GO AUSTRALIA he said, eating pizza

Are we doing time? Or is time doing us all equally; what a disgusting question to ask such an unpaid slave. Where snow falls tear dropped to all snaggled brains. Do-rag heavies, untamed, unashamed, levees to be breached; young one's to teach to not come where we are. Where the bird's meet the bars, where men and women leave in cars, as we shall not. Where emotions run dry, smoke runs high to clouds that don't stop. Share with another you selfish generation; you greedy of celebrations, you hold to God no feast. Six-six-six is your name, fires your game, as on your knees you worship the beast. Blizzard time sledded children's fun; is none to be found, just shackles around to frighten your inner cold. All stories here go untold; for you are apart of that story.


©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
©prison poetry/written in prison dec 6th,2013.

It is hard to write about something you are always so full of
Constantly overflowing with that you can barely see the brim of the bowl anymore
from how often it has disappeared beneath the ebbing ocean
Sometimes they come so fast you don’t have time to decipher the foam

My heart has been held softly between two safe palms for over a year now
There have been times it has been caressed so carefully
I can’t tell the difference between skipping beats and catching breath

When its edges have fit perfectly into grooves eroded over time
for ten fingerprints that can’t be replicated
Codes we constructed together
and secret knocks only the hands of our internal clocks can count the rhythms of

There have been times they have squeezed a little too hard to tell
Accidentally scraped the surface without intending to
Followed by however much body heat is necessary to help the healing
With extra to spare in case of emergencies

Reality can’t keep the roses red every time winter comes to visit

But it has painted my laugh lines permanent
And keeps my dimples occupied

He knows the mechanics of my face word for word
he can read my heavies in a microcosmic glance
before they even get the chance to bite my tongue to stop me spilling

I am comfy in his loud and in his quiet
I am warm in his laugh
Soft in his smile
Giving back comes so easy when the receiving end is often mine

Falling further every day has made me best friends with gravity
And soulmates with the years ahead waving from a distance

Full of arms wide open
And two mouthfuls of laughter

He was holding court between sets at the Texas Bar
(Not his usual stomping grounds, necessarily,
But the owner was a decent guy whose checks were good,
And a Wednesday night gig pretty much found money)
Going slow and easy with a scotch and soda of uncertain labels,
Having come to rest at that station where, as he sighs it,
Wallet tells me I prefer well drinks to the top shelf.
He’d been, if not a name name, at least recognizable
(He has posters showing him sharing the bill with the heavies,
Redding and Bo Diddley and Jackie Wilson,
Smaller font for sure, but there nonetheless)
Getting a little air play,
Even outside of niche Detroit and Chicago stations,
And one song which peaked
All the waaaaay up at seventy-eight on the chart.
Lotta uncertain buses and club owners
Who never quite caught me later,
He muses, a touch ruefully, but he finds some solace
(Indeed, he has become quite adept
At finding comfort where he can)
But, if he has not exactly prospered, he has carried on carryin’ on,
Getting steady work here or Chicago or Gary,
The odd campus Motown nostalgia gig in Lansing or Ann Arbor,
Even six or eight weeks in Florida
(Nice to be the young guy in the room for once, he all but cackles)
Covering the tunes the headliners sang in his day,
And perhaps one could say he is a Fleance or Percival,
Plodding onward from the wreckage of great man all around him,
But such contemplation is a luxury,
The province of lake houses and brokerage accounts,
Though he is fond of holding his thumb and forefinger
Spread apart just so,
And telling the listener I was this close to hittin’ it big,
Invariably following that assertion with a chuckle,
‘Course, that might not be measured to scale.

hidden in the doorways are secrets in the night
earthly pleasures of lusts and passion's delight
that timeless joining too intense to wait
any nook in the wall and we won't hesitate

an empty corridor in a busy hotel will do
the thrill of capture, what if everyone knew
blind madness as hormones rage hot
an appropriate place, it matters not

up against a hallway, wall breath warms your ear
hands above your head now quietly my dear
******* slipped into silken folds
a gulp, a whimper, the silent moan be told

on a staircase, the perfect rise stand tall and kneel
taken my prowess deep, tell me how that feels
the echoes of passion crying in an empty stairwell
hear footsteps above and below mental warning bells

heartbeats quicken and breathing heavies to pant
in a world with too many rules, this is not one you can't
the temptation of the moment's wanton needs rely
regardless of the circumstance you need never ask why..

To miss someone brings time almost to a stand still.
    
To miss someone makes an hour feel like many and a  day feel like a week.

To miss someone makes mornings gloomy and the nights long and cold.

To miss someone takes away energy and turns it into misery.
To miss someone heavies the heart and bruises the soul.

To miss someone creates an hate to light and befriends the dark.

To miss someone is an absence  in the heart.
Which causes torture within ourselves.

I was sent on the most urgent mission to rescue the tea!

It was the most dire of situations. The package of tea, having finally arrived after a very long journey from overseas, sat defenseless on the porch. It rested peacefully, waiting for the eager owner to run forth with open arms, tears streaming, and proclaiming such holy gratitude that all of the church doves in all of the world flutter in to flight the moment her heart rings like a bell at seeing said package.

And as it rested peacefully the most ominous form loomed on the horizon. A sight more terrifying than babies eating pickles and bears with no hair. The darkest, most heavies, most deep blue clouds were building ever bigger, and coming ever closer. So pregnant with rain that at any moment that saddest shade of blue was going to color the very town the package was waiting in and color the heart of the owner, that very same shade, unless I could possibly make it in time.

The story of the mission itself and the actual said rescue of the tea is entirely another story which just so happens to be titled "I was somewhere else, but I wasn't, but I was" which is part of the continuing chronicles: The Misguided Adventure of Stumblebum Fumbletongue. Out on sale next yesterday.

Pulsating, clawing, insidious, free.  
Instilled in others to do great things.
The higher the mountain, they warned – “You’ll fall”
You remain at the base of the summit, small

Ready to kick off from the edge,
Realize for that, you have to climb further yet.
****..
You muttered under your breath.

So pack all those bags, with things that are light
And empty the heavies, they will not oblige.
Unlearn how to run, skip, swim, jump or fly.
Focus intently on one step at a time.

Knowing each stumble, the further you slide.
Kick that foot in as if you will die.
Forget all the voices that warned you would fall
That is, as it seems

What you want after all…

Bruisy clouds slouch across a grayed glower
on a brisk, anesthetized Tuesday.

All these people, coming and going on the walk,
ignoring the sobs of the frayed man who digs

squelched cigarette butts out of the mulch
packing the dead-headed elm at the bus stop.

I cook a small lunch that threads the studio
with citrus fingers, above the coal painting

that dries flat on the Sicilian game table,
but my mind is elsewhere. I am thousands

of miles from this bricked-in niche where scotch
and stout stand sentinel on the granite bar:

I am walking step by step through Lansdowne,
past the silent salt-nose of each slate-slanted house,

on my way to the sand where the power plant
reaches upward with muscled black arms

so that even the froth withdraws into a curtain
of coming rain... strange, always a gray rain,

that comes so quickly. It heavies the sweater
of the yellowed dog-walker, steadies the rasp

of the cigarette digger, peppers the mirror
that spreads its silver shell across the asphalt.

This littling rain calls me back from Sandymount
and its endless bench. The black paint is dry now,

& the old year has died, flung to the floor like a rag
you cough into when you breathe the wrong way.

"Hesitancy"


hesitantly breeds hesitancy
deep inside right brain limbic
fog of sense shade of dark
drift of feel heavies and weighs
now and again this view awake
i perceive i am not am

night rain aggregate
world entire drizzle mist
light wind autumn leaves
beauty mind is mind beheld
soft brush feather touch
itself to itself merge is i am

Slander and Defamation ran it
holding firmly to each other yet not breathless
they both filed a long list of Reports and allegations
They didn't fool me one bit as I stood watching them in action
Were any of theses falseness be true I'd have been on the first plane
out of the Country......

Though they didn't fool me
they certainly fooled thousands of others
for I lost my job, friends, good name and stainless reputation
I did not run away or leave town for I had done nothing wrong
So I stood and watched the charade for without crime there's no guilt
the innocents do suffer......

Hey, Malice swaggered in
it moves with a lot of family all in different guises
they were rampant and efficient and so very active in action
watched them in action and saw how contagious they are to so many
to one without malice its so difficult to reconcile the proliferation thus
this was an eye-opener......

Envy and Jealousy charged in unashamedly
my! these bozos are sonafabitch heavies with mad green eyes
cold, psychotic, unreasonable, totally heartless they eat everything
incapable of reasoning they waded in causing maximum damage s
alien and unfamiliar to me, all I could do was try to reason with them,
It merely made matters worse, but it wasn't my problem......

Aha! Hate ******* in pathetically verbose
here came Big Daddy of them all, the undistinguished leader
septic ally radiating and totally neurotic, arrogant, dumb an stupid
it galvanizes this festering putrid disgraceful defaults of asinine meets
sickly pontificating shameless it falsified, lied, corrupted and slime
Hate was challenging but I stood faced on not intimidated......

These are formidable adversaries no doubt
to which millions of people have fallen prey to
but find me and see a clear conscience and a positive mind
to be robbed, then subjected to threats and intimidation by thieves
who invited all above as willing accomplices and henchmen to aid
Condone wrongdoings if you like, but I stand and will stand.....

Sort of driving me crazy
How much
Lament heavies
It weighs
On my subconsciousness  
Consciences
As it levies
All odds
Stacked against me
It knows what I want
More than I ever could
How it knows
It wants you
Even if
It’s not good
And it wants
To apologize
See you sometimes
But still wants
To be so far alone
In demises
Comprising
The see you again
But why would
You want to
Ever
Letters resend
It was clear
It was over
The moment I saw
You were eons apart
From me
Breaking the law
Just to face you again
In my tiny lie shame
Just to feel me
Inside you
Exhaling your name