Since thy first lady declare,
that we wageth war,,
and against obesity dare,
I will hunt the fat kid,
tho he affrights me,
the first lady did knight me,
and I succeeded in the grail,
and blood marked that trail,
but popcorn spilled from his pale,
giving my hounds the scent,
downhill like a wounded lazy dear he went,
The Behemoth,
who esteemeth my sword as straw,
to sip chocolate milk,
with burps defying Queen's law.
DAGGER against my spear of poplar
is ice-cream sandwich in hand of globular,
AND THAT SANDWICH DAGGER SHALL NOT REACH FAR
BEFORE MY SPEAR UNLEASHES HIS DYING ****.
but I must admit,
I fear the headlock in his sweaty pits,
I must keep a spears distance,
away from his buttery mits,
he has vanguished many knights into that hellish abyss,

My first lady biddeth,
I will not delay, I will not tarry,
to slay the fat kid,
and hire 12 commoners to carry.

no slavering kisses

like a dog on heat

no schoolboy fumble

wanting you to beat his meat.

no ***** in the dark

or a letch to grab your ****

no rancid breath,nor sweaty skin

to grasp you in his mits.

just you and your fingers

and your own ***** vices

pure ecstacy of loving yourself

with your battery op devices.

it is all in the touch

the rhythm of your wrist

the way your body squirms

giving a wriggle to your hips.

a gasp n moan

******* brings you pleasure

frustrated tensions fade away

as you fiddle at your leisure.

reaching your crescendo

a throb a pant a sigh

eyes slightly misted

youre at your dizzying high.

copyright gothicmistress 2010

Outside an average sort of house
Upon a quiet street
There stood a man of honest heart
All grim and weather beat
His face awash with bafflement
A letter in his mits  
With Lots of Love from God himself
And golden twirly bits

He'd read it over breakfast
Then read it on the loo
Considered re-addressing it
For number forty two
Within the silver envelope
In angel script, embossed
Were plans to build a massive boat
Materials and cost

It seemed, he'd have to build  it
As the letter looked legit
So off he sped, to B&Q;
To show the holy writ
The manager was confident
The price was mighty bold
Delivery on Saturday
For every item sold

So late, on Friday evening
He popped out for a walk
Upon his road, he drew a boat
In vivid yellow chalk
When morning dawned, a knocking
And some paperwork to mark
For a thousand tonnes of timber
For construction of an ark

He set out with his hammer
And he smote the nail and tack
By afternoon, the road was blocked
With traffic tailing back
A keel was just discernible
Beginning to take form
By evening, the media
Was whipping up a storm

Up marched a bold reporter
From the Three Times Weekly Herald
He said "So you'd be Noah then?"
"Not me" said he "I'm Gerald"
"I got this 'Oly telegram
And God has chosen me
I fill a boat with wildlife
And sail the salty sea"

By night he was a laughing stock
On YouTube and the news
But a sturdy man, was Gerald
And most vehement in his views
When asked to show the letter
He graciously refused
"Just have a little faith" he said
"We'll soon see who's amused"

The church were being skeptical
And held the press at bay
The Council sent him letters
At a rate of four a day
The hull was soon completed
And he laboured on inside
Constructing some amenities
To house them on the tide

A swimming pool for waterfowl
A wall of rodent wheels
With bowls for every kind of fish
And a big one for the seals
A filing box for butterflies
To stow them all away
A pigeon hole for pigeons
For the bees , a large bouquet

A puzzle for the monkeys
A wardrobe for the moths
A lion for the antelope
A jacuzzi for the sloths
A fully fitted nursery
For when the ewes had lambed
The wasps would have a picnic
And the beavers could be dammed

Through night and day he toiled
He relieved himself in shifts
In time, he built a sauna
And a pair of turbolifts
The council grew impatient
And the neighbours were in fits
They begged him to remove his boat
Entire or in bits

Then promptly, after dinner
As he sat upon the deck
There called a suited doctor  
With a badge around his neck
There followed many questions
With a host of funny looks
While outside went from 'fine and warm'
To 'just the thing for ducks'

That night, began the deluge
So Gerald found his crew
He robbed each local pet shop
And attacked the nearest zoo
Collected every animal
And fastened them in tight
The waters coursed along his street
As dawn replaced the night

'Twas then a thought occurred to him
A kind of mental swerve  
His road was more a crescent
So his ark was on a curve
But just then the currents took him
He sailed off along the bend
For six weeks, going round and round
To land at home, The End

**

briano alliano plays at jupiter moon



hi dudes and welcome you all to jupiter moon and my first song is wild thing

here it goes


you see i am a wild thing, ah ah ah ah ah ah

you make my heart sing, oh yeah let’s party

you make my heart leap right out of my body

making it wanna bleed, you wild thing

wild thing, i wanna love you, but i wanna no for sure

i wanna love you baby, better than before

wild thing yeah i am cool man

i make your heart sing, really radical dude

the party is on for young and old, oh yeah we wanna party on yeah

wild thing, i wanna have *** with you, oh yeah i do, yeah

i wanna have *** with you and make you wanna scream for more, oh baby

wild thing, come on little dude, let’s ****** party, yeah

you see i will party and knock your hearing aids out, wild thing

wild thing, wa wa wa wa wa wa

you make your heart sing and making your heart leap right out of your body, like a

bouncing ping pong ball, you wild thing

hi dudes that was a great song and now here is 15 miles

15 miles to get to the end

without some people driving you round the bend

you see i gotta find a way to get there in time

before we ****** reach the state line

you see i do my work and i do it so well

and enjoy the treats ya know ya just don’t tell

ya parents dude, what you just ate

because if you do, you will be too sick to eat off your dinner plate

and i write my stories oh yeah i am fine

you see i write stories like the **** kids gaol and captured in the psych ward and more

people say shut up woosey to me, cause when i was young i was a tad shy for them

15 miles to get to the end

without some people driving you round the bend

i have to find a way to get there in time

before we ****** reach the state line

money comes and money goes

then we go out side to play in the snow

you see i chuck a snowball onto my dad

and he tells me of the fun we had

you see in this world i have so much fun

actually it makes me want to eat a cream bun, and enjoy it

don’t tell your mum

yeah we jump up and scream to the world

all the problems you have with it

15 miles to get to the end

without some people driving you round the bend

i have to find a way to get there in time

before we ****** reach the state line

you see right wing governments don’t give a ****

yeah they don’t care one little bit

julia gave the poor money, yeah that is rad

but abbott doesn’t care, it drives me totally mad

15 miles to get to the end

without some people driving you round the bend

i have to find a way to boot abbott out in time

before we are the poorest nation this side of the line

this side of the ****** line

hi dudes, that was a great song wasn’t it, and now here is oxy ***** give me a smoke

if i smoke a ****** drag, and if i enjoy it very much

do you honestly think i will give it to you, neh

keep your greedy mits off it

you see there are some things in life a poor ****** like me needs more than anything else

and that is a smoke, NOT

i don’t smoke, i don’t want to

i don’t smoke, who needs to

people don’t believe me when i say i gave up cigarettes, i tell them no, and say *******

well, what a bunch of crap, he is just a pain in the ***

i don’t smoke, who wants to, it will **** me if i try who needs to

only yobbos smoke, because my friend it’s bad for my health

i don’t smoke, i never wanted to smoke, so please don’t presume i do, by starting to fight me on the street

and i never wanted to smoke, i smoked to be cool

but man oh man i quit, because it ain’t a good ****** look, hurts my reputation

hi dudes, that was a great song, i hope you enjoyed it and now i sing duncan

i would love to chuck a methane smoothie on duncan

i would love to chunck methane on dunc

ya see it will improve the quality of his life on earth

and it’s better than beer that gets you hopelessly drunk

i chuck it on top of his head dude and then down his pants, that is great

i would love to chuck methane on duncan cause he is my mate

i would love to chuck methane on bas boy

yeah i would love to chuck methane on baz

to get rid of the stress he shows when his kids are in trouble

yeah i can tell you baz,, i am doing fine

i still want to chuck it on my bas boy, which will make jupiter’s atmosphere so great

i would love to chuck methane on baz boy, cause he is our mate

i would love to chuck methane on scott mcdonald

yeah that’ll be fun to chuck methane on him

you see he became lucky and muscles to tease us all

yeah it felt like we were getting attacked by a jungle ape

i pour the keg on top of scott yeah, making the atmosphere so great

i would tip methane all over scott cause he is a great mate

hi dudes and here is a christmas song for christmas in july

jingle bells bat man smells robin laid an egg

the bat mobile lost it’s wheel, the joker got away

dashing through the park on a skateboard as he does

was santa kid ya see, listening to was not was

the song was the hit, named walk the dinosaur

and then scott mcdonald came up to me

and showed me lucky’s pour

jingle bells bat man smells robin laid an egg

the bat mobile lost it’s wheel, the joker got away

jingle bells batman smells robin laid an egg

the bat mobile lost it’s wheel, the joker got

the joker got, the ****** joker got away

hi dudes, and now i will chuck this methane smoothie on top of bas boy, ya know

my dad, because i want him to have a great life as betty campbell and forget

about me, so here we go, tipping it all over dad

bye dudes

Revolution  is knocking at the garden gate
With pitchforks and spoons to guard against fate
The people drench me with milk and holy water
And stare at me as if I slept with their daughter
I stand in white suit and a red tie
I look like a half decent guy
My hairs slicked back and my tongue coated in honey
And I smell like old bars and good money
With a tattered old suitcase in hand
I try to get you to understand
You don't have to sell your soul
That isn't my goal
Just buy some new high quality oven mits
and don't throw a fit

fingertips
against my lips
hands on hips
on my back
marks from your steady hands
feel like whips
you hit me because you think i deserve it
blood on carpets and first aid kits
you touching my skin feels like touching a pan without oven mits
cold arms and legs
cold nose
cold wrists
frost bite kiss
listening to music at 4:01
thinkng of your texts
jealousy
fits of rage
do you ever just let go
no reason
to
live
shallow breaths
whats happening
am i dreaming

I know where I am.
Yet I am no where to find.
I know where I stand.
Yet I don't see a light.
In the mits of the dark, I expect non.
But here in the sun, light does belong.
And so I go, and leave my stand,
to see if the light, is somewhere to find.
And as I mark my steps, into the sand,
and leave my trace, for another friend,
I can see the light so bright,
somehwhere up there,
behind the night.

i know where i am
yet i am no where to find

i know where i stand
yet i don't see a light

in the mits of the dark
i expect non

but here in the sun
light does belong

and so i go
and leave my stand
to see if the light
is somewhere to find

and as i mark my steps
into the sand
and leave my trace
for another friend
i can see the light so bright
somewhere up there
behind the night

Well you don't know where I'm goin',
but I sure do know what lays before me.
The path is familiar like a friendly touch,
the buildings that sleep there are warm,
and there is no way of knowing who resides there now.
Maybe the faces of the past, or maybe not,
either way it doesnt matter all that much,
because somehow they got to be like me in more ways,
then I could care to share with anyone of these hazy days.
So don't pay me no nevermind as I travel foreward, and down,
down to the path I know like my lover's skin,
as I look for a dusty ol' inn with some stars as faded as the sign,
in the Town of Regret.

The place, you may know it well,
the name however may escape you like a snake,
does a deep ol' well full of stale water.
The neighbors, they all like to tell tales,
none of them fake, none of them real,
but the one about a guy named Zimmerman,
well that one you could buy with a penny, its so swell.
Now dont forget the old man at the butcher store.
If you bargain, he will give you any meat,
some say its because he lost his shoes,
others say his feet, in the war the world lost.
Though you get that without costs,
the cook, with her twelve children,
well she dont chop cheap,
shes got all them kids with mouths,
and they dont have brooms to sweep.
So after this, the name might be comin' back in now,
just look in the eyes of the sunset,
and remember those nights so ghostly,
that you spent in this,
the Town of Regret.

The windows are all broken,
and the kids have no mits or bats,
so there is nobody that knows who caused the glass to shatter.
The ol' man sitting at the train station has been there since I was born,
and on his collar he has worn,
the same flower of blue that his love gave him.
The gamblers they played it all,
even the names their parents gave them so long ago.
Seems like now they have no hands left to go,
and only a small smile to spread under their glasses.
On late nights, you can find me sitting on a porch,
usually its one by the hill, where the wind passes me,
just like the fingers of my love once did.
But after so many fights, I lost her to the foggy sea,
and theres a kid with his feet hanging off the roof,
he sings to me songs of a sweet child with a warm heart,
the one that was like me before my path was set,
the one that didnt have a hike here,
here in the Town of Regret.

Ah,
sweet summer
the smell of beer, margaritas, and that fresh EL air.
Baseball mits and
half-off deals at our favorite Wednesday joints.
But I'm not there.
You won't be either.
None of us will.
Detroit is my new home, Flint is your old.
Places like Ferndale and who knows where is the new Summer destination in your guys' hearts.
I miss home.
I really really do.
New adventures await,
but can we pretend they don't?

An eager ant treks on six bruised ankles.
A duty bound martyr of the hive peoples.
A cog amongst many identical shadows
cast in perpetual motion.
An alien midst twins with similar mits.
An Ant  Who Forgot To Complete  His Task.
An Angel Who Found And Broke His Mask.

Her sky covers the tall monuments of man , she holds secrets that we are to afraid to tell , she speaks of stories of days when gold was pulled from her roots.
Her name , her place all in the mits of beauty , she is a world class city whos streets are still yet to be touched by my feet.
I've seen her at sun rise and at sun set when the fires of the people blaze in uproar as they beg for more.
She is my home , she  is home to thousands.
But she cries , she cries at 3am when the blood of a father is spilt for the paper in the leather bound casing , she breaks when mothers abandon their mistakes on her rail roads , she screams when the young and innocent venture to her deep dark parts in search to ruin their lives for fun , she feels the pain of the women and children who are fouled by men with no soul. I see her beauty in the torture as I drive through her heart and I break knowing her words are unspoken she has been violated , she feel cursed , she is our home but we have broken our walls.
She waits for the day her people see her pain and change for her happiness and I wait for the day the sun shines and I know my home is safe.

Can't explain that pain, must I share it..
For it must be that moment where you must capture it and strangle it with your dominant mits,
They devour your sane thoughts with constant dissolution of evil wits,
Come up from the hell that was put upon your shoulders,
For you are powerful enough to explode through this hell like one massive rocky Boulder!

Just a little insanity.
Janet hold the judgement
while.
I manage to elaborate.
On such a touchy subject
So hot. You may prefer
oven mits to touch it.

I'm half of the corporations budget.
When I talk of fiscal losses.
**** it.
I'm distraught.
You caught me siphoning.
Corporate stocks to stuff my pockets..
To be honest
The loss I'm talking isn't stocks
Its more in bonds.
We used to share.
You cut your losses.
I found a bridge.
Jumped off it just because you dared

There was once a game that was played on grass,
on a Saturday at three pm .
Or up for the cup ,
beneath flood lit lights on a Wednesday at half past seven .
No sky tv ,
no Thursday nights ,
not even Friday or Sunday afternoon.

The keeper wore green ,or yellow or white , or even blue ,
not pink or purple or orange .

You could pass the ball back from the half way line,
to the keeper who would take his time ,
to pick up a white ball and thump it .

No VAR ,
to screwtenise ,
the players every move .
  No stockings worn by players or mits or muffins or gloves .
No nice green lawns which never flood ,
so teams come off caked in mud and blood after ninety minutes .

Not even women screeching commentators getting excited all the time .
There’s no John Motson ,
no more Brian Moore ,
no sportsnight,
watching highlights with bleary eyes at what seems like midnight ,
in you’re pjs with coco before bed time .
Spotlights shone on cold Highbury nights of Armstrong ,
Ball , Charlton or Best .
For there are no turnstiles at White hart lane ,
pay as you enter ,
never quite the same.
So here’s to sky and bt for spoiling a game once full of romance ,
will it ever be the same ?