It begins with the few
The few become many
Another few rebels
And they become many
The many grow larger
Large enough to destroy the few
The mant out weigh now
You no longer own you

THE LOOKING UP PART OF ME, FROM NIRVANA


YA SEE MY LOOKING UP WAS CAUSED BY ME, TO THINK ABOUT OTHERS, DON’T DRNK

TOO MIUCH COKE, DRINK A LITTLE BUT NOT TOO MUCH, AND IF YOU GET THE LOOKUPS

JUST TRY AND RELAX, YA SEE, WITH MY HATING GARDENING, IS BECAUSE I WAS HAVING CHILDHOOD VISIONS

WHEN I WAS WORKING, I LIKED JUMPING ON THE TREES, BUT IT WAS MY ONLY

THING I LIKED ABOUT WORKING AT NORTHSOUTH CONTRACTORS, ESPECIALLY WHEN THE LOOKUPS

STARTED IN 2005, FROM THE RISPERIDAL, MIND YOU IT REALLY FRUSTRATED ME

AND IT IS FRUSTRATING ME NOW, I AM FINDING IT HARD, TO GET THE PROBLEMS OUT OF

MY HEAD, YOU SEE, IT MIGHT BE BECAUSE I WASN’T GETTING THE JOB I WANT OUT OF IT

OR IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN, WHEN I WENT TO BED AT 9.30 PM, I HATED THAT

IT MADE ME SICK AND TIRED OF WORKING IN THE SAME JOB OVER AND OVER AGAIN

I COULD’VE STOPPED, THEY DIDN’T HOLD A GUN TO MY HEAD, BUT

REALLY I FOUND IT HARDER AND HARDER, TO RID THIS EVIL DEMON

THAT WAS MAKING ME LOOK UP, DAY IN AND DAY OUT

AT PRESENT I WAS FINDING IT REALLY DIFFICULT TO GET MY MIND TOGETHER

AND I WAS HAVING PROBLEMS, WITH TRYING TO LOOK STRAIGHT LIKE I AM DOING NOW

I FOUND IT HARD TO SEE THE MANY THINGS THAT LIFE PULLS IN FRONT OF YOU

I REMEMBER DRINKING WITH SCOTT FROM NORTHSOUTH CONTRACTORS.AND EVERY

MOUTHFUL I HAD, I FELT THE BEER WAS CLENSING MY SPIRIT, I ALSO HAD NUMEROUS BEERS

WITH STEVE AT THE WIGAN PEN, WHICH WAS WHERE THE ENGLISH BEERS WAS, AND

I REMEMBER TELLING THE BARMAN, THAT NANNA DIED, AND HE SHOWED SYMPATHY, NOW

THE WIGAN PEN IS NO MORE, I REMEMBER BUYING SOME POTATO CRISPS AND WASH THEM

DOWN WITH A NICE COLD BEER, I MADE MUM MAD AND AS I WAS GOING TO THE POOL, SHE

SQUIRTED ME WITH THE HOSE, I HATED THAT, BUT I ALSO REMEMBER EATING POTATO CHIPS

AND HAVING BEERS TO WASH THEM, DOWN AT THE CITY CLUB AS WELL, THE MEER FACT

I STOPPED DOING ALL THIS, WAS THE REASON WHY I STARTED LOOKING UP, CAUSE I WAS

TRYING TO IMPROVE MYSELF, WHICH DIDN’T WORK FOR ME, SO I WENT BACK TO WATCH

FOOTY DOWN THE CLUB, ESPECIALLY THE GRAND FINAL, TO HOPEFULLY LOSE THE GIDDY

FEELING OF LOOKING UP, MY MATE SAID I HAD A BRAIN TUMOUR, BUT EVEN IF IT WAS

I DIDN’T FEEL ANY ADNORMALITIES, WITH LOOKING UP, YA SEE, A GOOD TELLING OF A STORY

HOW EVERY TIME I WENT TO SOMEONE’S HOUSE, I TRIED TO BE A MANS KID, YA KNOW

THE COOL MENS KIDS ON THJE STREET, I WAS FUCKEN UNEDUCATED, YOU SEE I MADE

UP THE ESTABLISORY COURT TO TEASE A GOOD MATE, BUT THERE IS A LOT OF YOUR STILL

NOT A COOL KID, BRIAN, PROBABLY, ONCE I NEVER TOLD A LIE, BUT THAT GOT ME IN HOT WATER

WITH THE BIG CHEESE, AND NOWADAYS, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH TELLING LIES

TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL GOOD ABOUT THEMSELVES, YOU SEE I HEAR MY MATE PAT

BLUDGING ON ME, LIKE I BLUDGED ON DAD, OR LIKE DAD TRIED TO BLUDGE ON ME

I WAS HEARING VOICES, STOP BLUDGING COWARD, KEPP BLUDGING ON HIM BRIAN SURE MATE

YOUR NOT LIKE US ANYMORE DAD, YA SEE DAD ONLY SAID, YOUR LIKE ME AND MUMMY WHEN

THEY REALLY LIKED MY PARTY STYLE, AND LATELY, IT’S BECAUSE I DO POETRY SLAMS AND

PLAYS, AND TRYING TO BEAT THE VOICES THE KIDS PUT IN MY HEAD, I LIKED THOSE KIDS

BUT I WANT TO BE MY OWN PERSON, I HAD DRINKS WITH SCOTT AND STEVE, IN FACT ME AND STEVE

GASPARIC WENT TO WORK HAD A FEW BEERS AND WENT HOME TO WATCH THE FOOTY, HE WAS

NICE, CAUSE MY MEDICATION MADE ME SLEEP, AND I WOKE HIM UP, TO TELL HIM THE SCORE

I REMEMBER TEASING DAD WITH THE YOUNG DUDES, I WAS SAYING, YOUR NOT LIKE ME DAD

WHILE OTHERS SAID, HANG ON YEAH FOOL, GET ****** MATE, AND YES THEY DID SOME STUPID THINGS

BUT ALL YOUNG DUDES DO STUPID THINGS, I REMEMBER DAD COMING DOWN TO KICK THE PEOPLE

OUT OF MY HOUSE, FOR PRACTICING THEIR BANDS AT MY HOUSE, IT’S NOT CALLED FOR IN A SUBURBAN HOUSE

IT CAN WAKE TOO MANT PEOPLE UP, YA SEE DUDES, IT IS FUN, BUT THE AFTER EFFECTS, ARE NOT SO FUN

SITTING IN THE GUTTER, ALL BECAUSE YOU INVITED A FEW BANDS TO PERFORM, I THOUGHT MY PARENTS WOULD LIKE

THIS, THEY SEEMED TO LET MY BROTHER DO IT, SO WHY CAN’T I, I WANT MATES MY OWN AGE, JUST BECAUSE DAD

IS DEAD, DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T GO ON LIVING MY LIFE, AS OPPOSED TO WAITING FOR YOUR NUMBERS TO BE UP

I WANT TO DO MANY THINGS BEFORE I DIE, I WANT TO AT LEAST GET A HOMELESS HOTEL STARTED, AT LEAST, OK

I DON’T WANT TO HEAR VOICES OF THE PAST TREATING ME LIKE A YEAH MATE YEAH KID, I WAS A MAN WHO LOVED TO

PARTY, AND SMELL THE NICE CLEANSING ALE OF BEER, I REMEMBER GOING TO SCOTTS FOR A NIGHT STOP, TO GET

AWAY FROM MY PARENTS, AND THE VOICES IN MY HEAD, SHOWED MY REALLY NICE FLOPSY BODY, WHO USED TP

SMILE AT PEOPLE WEIRDLS, AND ANOTHER THING TOO, I WAS LIKE A TEN TONNE WEAKLING ALL BECAUSE I HATED VIOLENCE

I CALLED IT A NEW VERSION OF A YOUNG DUDE, YA KNOW SITTING THERE SMILING, WITH A FEEL OF SAUSAGES AND VERY

TENDER LAMB CHOPS, YA SEE AT SCOTTS WE HAD HOT DOGS DONE BY US ADULTS, AND I REMEMBER WATCHING THE SIMPSONS

WITH THEM SAYING, HEY HOT DOG, AND MY YOUNG DUDE WAS A HOT DOG, LIKE, WITH A REAL OLD FASHIONED GIRL LIKE SMILE

I WAS SMILING AT PEOPLE, ALL BECAUSE, I WAS TRYING TO BE COOL ENOUGH TO TALK TO THEM, I COULD’VE IGNORED THEM

BUT I HAD TO FACE IT, I AM A YOUNG DUDE, AND ALL MY MISTAKES, ARE BECAUSE I WAS YOUNG, AND EXPERIMENTING

WITH A LOT OF THINGS, I REALLY LIKE THE FEEL OF STILL BEING YOUNG, BUT DUDES, LISTEN TO THIS SONG OF YOUTH

STRIP FOR ME BABE STRIP FOR YOU, STRIP FOR YOU IF YOU WANT ME TOO

STRIP FOR ME BABE STRIP FOR YOU, STRIP FOR ME, LIKE THEY WANT YOU TOO

AND ONE NIGHT IN BABGKOK, AND WHEN THEY SAID, WHAT DO YA MEAN, WE POLLUTE ONE CRAZY STINKEN TOWN

I GET MY KICKS ABOVE THE WAISTLINE

I HEAR VOICES OF PEOPLE SAYING, LET HIM BE A YOUNG DUDE BUDDY

AND THEN SAID, I AM NOT A YEAH MATE YEAH KID, TEASE HIM, TEASE HIM TEASE HIM

AND THEY MADE ME FEEL LIKE I WAS A HOOLIGAN, AND I AM NOT A HOOLIGAN

AND THEN THEM VOICES SAY TO ME, STAY UP THERE YA STINKING YEAH MATE YEAH KID

THEY SAID, STAY THERE, YA STUPID OLD FOGIE

GET IN THERE, YA STUPID KOOMARRI MAN

NEVER MUCK WITH US AGAIN, YOU STUPID LITTLE CHILDISH RAT

WE DON’T LIKE YOU ANYMORE BRIAN, CAUSE, YOUR NOT A MAN

WE WANT TO KEEP THESE LOOK UPS IN YA, YA STUPID LITTLE ****

Endless  blind mice endless blind mice
How they believe if its smells like cheese
So mant throw them crumbs to please
Endless blind mice so much to squeeze

Been around for all time in many places
Endless telling them may unknow things
Like human behaviour they all believe
What a whack of cheeze it all brings

All will die but never them man wrote
In his oldest thinking long long ago
A little cheeze here a little there as well
So much endless cheeze man can throw

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K7I2LSJXBj8/TV0EzBRRI2I/AAAAAAAAFbA/Rw2uiPfhhAw/s1600/3blindmice.jpg

terrence michael sutton
copyright  2018

Father, they know not what they do.
I have guided many to you.
Still, some refuses to accept you.

Father, many has follow me.
I even had disciples question me.
Only one doubted me.
While the others believe me.
When I rose three day later.

Father, I hope I done your will.
That you installed in me to do.
I spread your name through many nations

Face the blunt of hostility.
Face corruption tossed at me.
Still, they know not what they do.

And we have guidelines for them to obey.
Still, many like in days of old wants to live a different way.

My Father that's in heaven.
They know not, what they do?
My ways still attracts mant to you.

Be patience.

here writes: 𐰋‎ᛟ𐰉‎

          in Runic (at the middle)
and Orkhon either side

    just as my suspicions
concerning Gothic, script:
are not advantageous
for any foreseeable reason

other than:

   𐰢‎𐰀‎𐰦‎      (mant, like mann)

        to imply: man wrote this
ergo: by man: mant...

        i distrust the remains of Gothic
because of interaction
(perhaps) with the Romans
and the Greeks

   and i see some "unnecessary"
incisions
to make distinctions...

to say that Jacob Grimm envisioned
a gothic text as precursor
to the Greek text:

oh what's the use!
these words are only a passing by
not a conversation to be
had not words
to be engraved onto stone
the time of paper and stone
is passed
and there are foundations
to ensure everyone is comfortable
with an atom bomb's worth
of technology in their pocket
to somehow: not abuse it?

3 years divided up between
6 weeks on Kauai
with her 3 weeks in London
i was supposed to be somewhere
today:
Wembley... for the Capital FM
summertime festivity
oh god seeing this number of people
congregate
for music events all euphoric
but for sporting events so too euphoric
but measured
like there's a reason

woke up at 4am with a burden of cramps
in the abdomen...
i could blame a bad batch of sandwiches
as sold by certain supermarkerts
that might have spiced them with E. Coli
but then again i was dumb enough
to ignore my lactose intolerance
and drank some cow *****
in the night
with some Danish all butter biscuits

woke a second time ready for work
at 6am but cramps again:
crawled on all fours into my mother's
and father's bedroom and implored
mother to send a text to my wager:
these 0 hour contracts are a nuisance
how can you plan being sick
or not being sick
ahead of a shift
at least this was my first: blow-out
in 3 years...
i blew-out for the shift i didn't give
enough time for implementing changes
but i'm sure there are enough BODS
to fill an empty space
this industry is not rewarding
mind you not even this industry
so it's less about work itself and work in-itself
and the precursor to work:
that's life
i'm no machine and sometimes
the odd cramp of the abdomen
to give birth to nothing but an existential
dis-pain:
which is a negation of pain
if the physical realism subsides or is
enjoyed
but the mental: no scabs on the ego
no burning of the ego no cutting and bleeding
of the ego
just a disorganized luxury of what
would otherwise be a whoop'tee doo'dah
of narrative: lost...

     only this shrapnel i'm recovering...

then that other job description got to me:
i could be out of events industry
with one smooth application:
2 days per week
8 hour days
working as a security guard and receptionist
at the Royal College of Musicians
or whatever...
works around to £26,000 a year
so i could still do gigs on the side
but the application detail
stressed: EMPLOYING FROM
BLACK, ASIAN and LGBTQ+ LDTV
ULTRA VOX "minority"...
well... positive discrimination:
thankfully i had no former fathers
who were colonial masters, right?
WRONG!

i can tell apart a Nigerian from a Somali
and still understand that that's black on black
but when it comes to white
and -ness
and it's all ha ha from here:
because, weirdly enough:
i'm also the Holocaust maker
or perhaps my reading of history is so
pish poor that hey presto!

it's actually painful to think that
jobs are being currently advertised on
the basis of skin color and sexuality
then again i could pretend to be gay
i could be one of those covert
homosexuals
you don't actually realize are homosexuals
could have a William Burroughs
book in my pocket
but it would seem the stratification
of jobs
the menial ones go to the blacks the asians
and the gays
while plumbing and farming goes
to: inherited whiteness folk...

i knew i would be dragged into
race baiting and ****** politics of people
from elsewhere:
i still feel down about cutting the umbilical
chord with Edie
but in her own words:
we played house...
mother will never allow you to stay here
for holiday...
reality checker...
so why burden myself with having
invested 3 years and two encounters

oh but it became clear and not so
travelling on the train with:
i suppose 3 teachers on a night out
two blondes...
one trying to rub against me
and all the talk was comparative
literature to the Auschwitz trains
and it (the train) being: sardine packaging
and how there was a whiff of Indian
air
and yes i can understand that
over-saturation with the use of spices
but what got me down
was that tongue twister of:
drunk people in public
trying to savor the remnants of euphoria
and how the words:

little people little lives dampened
my mood
at the stadium at Tottenham
working with a Jamaican Muhammad
drunk white women
and this outright
scold: oh the ****** can come
but you're not tool enough...
that's like wow the jungle really has
a prized asset and now i don't wonder
why so much of this human interaction
cannot be genuine euphoria
or can be if it is hidden
and sometimes passed down in script
but for a day of supposedly being elsewhere:
if i was well enough
i would still be working for half an hour
more and getting the night buses home
but assured: i need to visit the hospital
mother to see my alter-ego
of media jargon superstitions
about some... "Norman Bates":
underclass of economics even this Swiss
whizz kid only understood poetry
in terms of WINNING or LOSING...

i think it comes with the population size
there's no need to write truths
and bottle them and gorge and digest
them there's no need to write
beautifully either...
coherently yes, but not so much
when this time round everyone is literate
and simply spoiled for choice
as to what is freely available
and....

         SRBIJA... old Serbia new Serbia
it really doesn't matter:
the southern Slavs were so much
different to the northern portion of the ethnicity
and you tend to forget that
former associations of Germanic
have long been lost
that last attempted to unite the Germanic
people under the *****
lasted 5 years but didn't
and even now the European Union
is not even equivalent to how long:
how did Marx influence the Slavic people
and made them into a Pan- contending force
to then export all: that's made to chi-cha-chu
land ahoy! Sinbad came
to Lu Hi and thought: but no Muhammad
so am i right to not be Muslim?

what was funny came around Whitechapel
this ginger Englishman
praying fervently concerning
enrichment
the policy of social health
allowing people off the train first
but ahead of him two Pakistani UNCLES
decided: that's now the case:
so in they clamored onto the train
making it more difficult for people to
get off: just so they could get their seats
and i think that's kinda of funny
given i'm an immigrant myself
but then again most Poles
didn't feel welcome in England
after joining the European Union
so they ****** off
and became replaced by a more
befitting Asian-Afro cocktail...
who? the Romanians!
oddly enough you'd be sightseeing
hummingbirds wanting to spot Bulgarians
in this London Dry Mix...

but i'm supposed to be in love with
humanity: no?
i just agree and nod and whatever
like: all's good Frankie: let's make a Stein!

i somehow feel for the native around
here but then i don't:
she, Edie... she knew i drank and smoked
marijuana
in the newspaper from yesterday
the German Politzei wanted
the English fans to smoke cannabis
rather than drink alcohol and who knows
maybe that was a marriage made in heaven
when both fans started booing each
other's anthems
clearly the air was tense
as a result Serbia 0, England 1...

you get to see Plato's Cave as a showcase
alternative to cinema and the t.v.
but it's good to watch a t.v. and think
of Plato's cave without really thinking
about the curtains of t.v. and the producers
and the staff that gets the show
going: no... simply you watching
something as grand as a sporting event...

no amount of whiskey or smoking
will alleviate my melancholic mood
my mood of wanting to erase memory
but in the pits
of melody of a singing crowd
and: oh those isolated instances
of humanity seeking benevolence from
fellow man:
i had the sinking heart of misdirecting
people
to dead ends...
not out of spite out of sheer
tiredness...

                and nothing but tiredness has
produced these words...
i will know soon enough if
i grappled with a purpose for this life
to be beyond any reasonable measure
of invested in it an ambition
a sanity
a want of specie societal differentiation
to grit down 70 years down
to a Mercedes Benz:
but somehow scuff at a Heinz can of beans
because: says so the caviar to me...
with an interlude looking
at a documentary concerning the
52 Hz whale...
  the loneliest ****** out there because his
frequency is not being communicated
to the neurotypical whales
and he's not getting honey...
of **** of jiggly **** and blubber...

                     and i'm finally concluding my own
failures...
last night...
walked past a few nightmare houses...
one of them spoke to me:
you will never live in a house
with a bedroom
where the woman has placed
a dressing table with a mirror in front
of the window...
just like i would never be a woman
who'd live in a house
with a man who parks his work
van in the front of the house
blocking all sunlight coming into
the living room...

    but hey! people do! people do!
which makes me in no way
special: i forgot about needing to feel
special or in high command of
individuation as: the western purpose for life's
fulfillment:
now i navigate using the compass:
the less people i hurt the better i will ****...
the less people are in my life
the better i will digest beef...
the more and others are passerby to each
other the more significant this glue of time
will be to dilute our each effort
to ensure we don't: cling to them with
a drowning man's resolve to grasp at
a blade's edge and bleed out
and become a feeding frenzy for:

dogs with gills... no... not sharks...
sharks have shark teeth
we need a blunt tearing off of flesh
via aqua canines
not sharks... verily not sharks.

I am dead tired I want to sleep never ever to awake
My conscience dictates me to take complete rest
Where mant thoughts encircling in mind true or fake
Then I think human in all creations remain best

My eyes are burning with tears to show they are red
I do know survival is difficult under circumstances
I thin to be alone and should go for dreams in the bed
Age tells on me to tell me about all available chances

My duties are in my mind and soul to be performed
I am a soldier to work ,work and work till I but die
My conscience helps me to feel fit and feel  reformed
My soul tells me do good like a soldier before I fly

I don't mind any misries difficulties before death
Duty comes first always and every time my friend
A soldier always remains on duty till his last breath
He never submits never retires never ever to bend

Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2020 Love remains