the party to welcome colleen mcCullough and kel nagle to the cosmos


yes, the party has started when aw good golfer and friendly person passes away

yeah, he departs earth with a big PARTY, up on the planet os SATURN

with slim dusty sings i love to have a methane with old kel, here

i love to tip methane on him

we’ll drink in moderation, and we’ll burn the suffering out of him

you see, we drink in the town and country, and PARTY with methane, oh yeah

i love to have a nice methane with kel nagle, cause he is our pal

and then sam kinison yelled out WILD THING, OH YEAH LET’S PARTY

you make my heart come right out of my body, and into my lap

you dark and despicable wild thing

and, payne stewart, got a meteorite, and gave it to kel saying, your my inspiration

then scott mcdonald came up to kel and said, come with me, i’ll show you round the after life

ready to have a bottler PARTY for once and for all

and kel picked up some methane and tipped it on himself saying, i am now one of you

then the door bell rings and who can it be, and barry allan answers the door, and it is

colleen McCullough, the author of the thorn birds enters saying welcome everyone

i am the great colleen mcCullough, and i just ended my stint on earth

so i can calm the spirit of ronnie biggs and osama bin laden

and she said to brian allan, yes, it’s great you don’t want to have any scandals in stardom

but brian allan, you are popular on youtube, and you do acting  in canberra

and you entertain in poetry slams, dude, ok and don’t stress about hollywood, listen to your father, buddy

then colleen released paul berenyi and said, you leave the after life ALONE osama and biggs

and go straight to fucken hell, ok, because i am about to go into work to

keep my spirit running into my next life, to fight this wart on terror, it’s a hard battle

i died of natural causes, but, terrorists, really are ruining mother earth, ok

so we need all religions to come together to fight on this war, fight on this war on terror

and colleen mcCullough, guarded paul and all the others from stupid osama ghost laden

so kel angle and colleen mcCullough took each others hands and danced to

pardon me boys, it’s the chattanooga chop chop toot toot

you see it’s party down in party town

so pardon me boys, it’s the chattanooga chop chop, yeah yeah

we’ll party on till our rebirth oh yeah

and then sang the big hit called ain’t she sweet

see her coming down the street, i ask her very confidentially ain’t she sweet

ain’t she nice, look her over once or twice, i ask you very confidentially ain’t she nice

just cast an eye, in her direction, oh me oh my ain’t this perfection, i repeat

i repeat, don’t you think this is kinda neat, i ask you very confidentially ain’t she nice

pardon me boys, it’s the chattanooga choo choo, oh yeah

come on dudes, swing this party right, come on ya dudes

it’s the chattanooga chop chop, oh yeah, come on

and this train is heading to our new home on neptune, till our earth bodies, get reborn

slim yells out i would love to have a beer with kel and colleen, cause they were our famous mates

and welcome to the afterlife, enjoy ya stay here, in preparing for your next life,

WE ALL HOPE IT GOES WELL

brian allan as cronus said as he places a piece of green gassy methane on kel and colleen

saying

HOPE YOU RELAX, TO MAKE YOUR NEXT LIFE VERY FRUITFUL, DUDES

and kel ended up hitting a hole in one from saturn to the point in neptune

and it reached that point in neptune in one hit, COOL MAN

what's the equivalent of the English
slang...
and American version?
rhymes and... for the latter:
acronyms.
                   i hate American acronyms...
GOP... DNC...
government of power?
            democratic national curriculum?
what the fuse?!
now... the Americans spewing
acronyms is worse than
English slang -
because there's a definite meaning
behind it...
              i remember the time
when you'd pick up a dictionary,
at a time when people would wear
clothes that had the word, duffer,
printed on them...
  duffer: a stupid and an inefficient
person...
           ha... people used to wear
said clothes back in high-school
on non-uniform day...
   mind you...
       you can't exactly have a teen
fest fetish movie surrounding
high-school at the movies...
if, you go, to a catholic school...
and there's a uniform code...
everyone's uniform...
              in uniform...
            no one competes via
                       clothing, trends, etc.
    that's the closest i came to joining
the army... then again...
i might not have went to a catholic
school...
      i might have been under
  the jurisdiction of Ignatius of Loyola...
cardinal manifesto
of the black pope:
              i.e. Stendhal -
my favorite book in my teens:
and one of the few books...
that i read, being inspired
by a movie...
who was it... Rachel (kel kel Ra-ca-ca-kel)
Weisz and Ewan Mcgregor...
i still can't read anything
by J.R.R. Tolkien...
   fun fact...
how can you tell the difference
between
a Hibernian and a Hearts
or a Rangers contra Celtic fan,
i.e. a protestant Pict from a catholic
Pict?
   Mc'paddy
                           (that's catholic)
Mac'george
             (that's protestant)...

Glasgow blue (protestant)
  Glasgow green (catholic)
      Edinburgh green (catholic)
Edinburgh claret (protestant);

savvy? good good.

When Kelvin threatened to cut my throat
I thought him a little stressed,
We’d known each other for twenty years
The first ten were the best,
But I was married to Jill back then
Way back before the divorce,
Then Kelvin lunged, and married her when
Our marriage had run its course.

He seemed to think I was jealous then,
He thought he had hurt my pride,
I thought that our friendship might be saved
Despite his second-hand bride,
‘Why would I want her back,’ I said,
Hoping to reassure,
But he obsessed and was quite distressed
Each time I came to his door.

‘Keep well away from my wife,’ he said,
As if I’d not had enough,
‘What do you think a divorce is, Kel?
I’m finished with all that stuff.’
‘You had your time, you should keep away,
I know that you want her still…’
‘As much as I’d want a hole in the head,
You have to believe me, Kel.’

But he just circled the wagons round
Trying to keep her from me,
I’d been quite happy to put her down
Then live my life and be free,
He’d never heard the old saw that said
That to make her yours, let her go,
If she comes back home, then she’s yours my friend,
But if not, she wasn’t you know.

I saw Jill out in the supermart
And her face was lined and drawn,
I tried to hide by the Brussel Sprouts
But she caught me up by the lawn.
She seemed determined to seek me out,
To see if I looked like hell,
Was disappointed when I looked round
And said I was doing well.

‘I’m not,’ she said, and a tiny tear
Appeared, to roll down her cheek,
‘He never leaves me alone, I fear,
I’ve been locked in for a week.’
I waved my hand, tried to get away
‘Your life is not my concern,’
Then she clung onto my arm and cried,
‘I don’t know which way to turn!’

And that’s when Kelvin himself appeared
And threatened to cut my throat,
It looked as if I had interfered
‘And that,’ I said, ‘is a joke!’
But Jill still clung to my arm beside
The beans, and packets of stew,
‘I wish we hadn’t divorced,’ she said,
‘It was so much better with you.’

You’d think a friendship of twenty years
Could overcome such a jest,
But Kelvin suddenly burst in tears
And beat a riff on my chest.
I’ll soon get over the broken ribs
And the eye, with a lump of steak,
But Kel’s still married to Jill, thank god,
That’s the icing on the cake.

David Lewis Paget

rem yeri
mağduruyum uzun zamandır
imarlı ifrazlı
hatta
ifrazatlı uykularım var
geçer diyor mütehassıs
saatleri geçirme
bir poşet leblebi yazıyor rengarenk
otanı için depresif günlere
koridor...
dar ve loş
ne güzel de bakmış o yıllar
susçu cazibe
kreşondo çakıp durdu
yüzdü denizlerimde

su dalgası
perma
küt

hepsi içimde
kalıcı yaralar gibi
devşiriyor her defasında
yeni bir kesiğe
son geyşa da gitti
şeyla bakıyorum maziye
dün de
kalsa da dikiş izi
sırıtıp
tepemi attırıyor
makas unutuyor kimi
ölmezsem bir ümit sözde

ama geçti bor’un festivali
woodstock gündem’de
eski kayıtlara bakıyorum
jimmy esrarla sahnede
ama tırmalamıyor kulağı
üflüyor sadece
kim anıyor beni bilmem
belki hapın etkisinde
yürüyorum

yollar buz
başım kel
gözüm perde

ne zaman kliniğe gelsem
kayıp oluyorum bu evrende
akşam soğuk bir odam var
bir mum, biraz meze
bir de şarap olur mutlaka
gülümser plaktan zeki
göçerim hayallere

yakışıklı ölümdür tek arzum
şişmeden kafa, gövde

uzatırlar bir şarkıya kefeni
usulca girerim içine...

I see her
Tubed up and drugged
Up where
She's telling me
She loves me
But I see she's somewhere
Else.

Anxiety of her
Own self.
Who could blame her?

The roads we've walked before
Is the same as that meteor shower
Haling from above
Without any kind shove
And what you've got what you wish forever more;
Fragile as a dove;
Delicate as imagined love.

Take real life
And paint it.
Let it rain on top of you
Like hail
In the Spring
Unsuspecting and
Unknown.

She told me there
Was nothing to worry about,
Yet then,
The story took a turn
For the worst.

The young go to battle
For they think
Death will never
Cross their path.

A bullet sails grazing
Just like they say it does
In Time
Magazine.

You know...it pays to worry
Every now and again.

Have you ever read  Céline?

It's ironic,
When you hate life,
And He lays in strife because of life,
Yet are so protective
Of life
When you realize it is your own.

Lord knows,
He knows,
She knows,
You know that without life
One would be
Without it.

Oh' then,
Who then,
Who would we
Be then?
If the golden hen never
Told us to wake, no,
Never told us to wake.
Who would we be then
If the naked sun never set or the
Shallow moon never set?

Kel:
You are the love of my life.
I'd go round the world as long as I could be
Your howling hound.
You make the sound and I'll
Be your pound.
Grant me the notes and I will tote
Your grievances, your mishaps, your mistakes, for I'll
Only smile, sometimes in ill confidence, taking yours as mine
And mine as yours; taking you in like honey dew in the
Spring time, bees buzzing like a thousand and one dimes.
A bell behind the mirror; a prayer behind the box; a thousand years from now when we're dead and buried, we'll still talk.

Yeah, babe,
We'll still

Talk.

Ah, my lovely dear, I wish and desire
That you would read my writings ode to you…
The fact that no things ‘licite echo brings ire
And deep sorrow, like you told me adieu

Yet still I write for I love you so, with
My poet’s heart. I miss your eyes, dark and
Deep, like the void which separates our myth.
Your smile, a rare sight, stamp’d me with a brand.

I miss your beautiful, light brown form,
So caramel sweet, yet sweeter is your
Laugh. Eccentric as you are, ***** the norm!
I love the confidence, so easy you pour

My darling, Kel, distance makes my heart grow
Yet soon like a balloon, it’ll break and blow.

If I were home..

I'd find comfort in the concrete
Etchings on the front porch
Spelled by a six-year-old
With her mom's apartment keys.

I'd open the front door
Like a gust of wind
On a summer day
Just blowing through

And see you sitting there
On the couch, always on the couch
With a red blanket, a box of Cheez It's
And the game

And I wouldn't stop, or think twice.
I'd just yell "I'M HOME!"
And make my way through

The dining room,
With goofy pictures
Of you and Kel
From the fair

To the kichen,
Where I'd open all the cabinets
To the smell of dust,
Empty aside from cosmic brownies.

I'd grab a pack, and come sit next to you.
You'd grab yours too,
And light one. And it would
Glow brighter than any candle
Ever could. And that smell would
Fill me up in ways I no longer
Can feel full. And maybe I'd notice -
That your fingers were yellow as the sun.
Or maybe I'd notice the teeth still in your
Smile. But probably not. Definitely not.
If I'm honest, I wouldn't notice a thing.
And what a gift that would be.