the nice tommy carter



tommy carter was a kid who was a bubbly little cool kid, who used to hit people on the backs

and he had a very good imagination, which sometimes got the better of him, you see all his friends

played fun little games with tommy, saying you are weird tom, you are weird tom, you see tommy’s father

and mother were so nice to him, you see they will treat him like a little bubbly little cool kid, which got

tommy’s llittle bro ernie so jealous of him, you see ernice teased tommy a lot, he said, you are a little spas boy

tommy and tommy teased ernie by making ernie move around in circles, you see tommy was a tad different

in the fact that when people teased him, like saying, what’s that, your still getting teased, what’s that your still getting teased

and then tommy’s dad noticed that the teasing was really affecting tommy and decided to stop being the cool man

and he labelled himself a little quiet man, or a yepyoubigfuckheadyeahmanbop, which is a very together person who

doesn’t understand that tommy wanted to be a cool kid back then but he found it hard to understand why

was his dad changing his lifestyle, ya know changing his way of life, you see tommy liked going to the march

with his dad, so he as well as his dad can pay their res[ect to the fallen diggers, on anzac parade and tommy’s dad

played santa claus at the local mall, and tommy’s mum took tommy and ernie to see him as santa, and tommy’s dad

at easter time, used to lay all the easter eggs out  so tommy and ernie can go to church and then go hiome

and get ready to search for the easter egg hunt, and i know they lived in australia, but that didn’t stop tommy dressing

tommy and ernie into halloween clothes and go around door to door saying trick or treat, this made tommy happy

as he got the most treats and make ernie very jealous and then tommy and ernie helped their mother serve out meals for the homeless

and tommy learnt that the homeless are very interesting and nice people and tommy made a few mates as he was serving the

meals, and let me tell you, that the big annual christmas party was the best, tommy was forced to dress up as santa

to spread christmas cheer to all the poor people, and tommy wears his grandfather’s medals at anzac day ceremonies

and decided to post the anzac day march on youtube, and another thing too, ernie got tommy into playing footy in

the front yard and a few mates from tommy’s school gave tommy a serve thinking he was CRAZY, playing around loud outside

but tommy didn’t care, and started to commentate his loud voiceover to his footy game, and tommy’s dad can’t really cope with

loud children, tried to show his army discipline to calm his two sons tommy and ernie, and he said, my two sons are enjoying life

playing footy in the front yard, and because tommy and ernie’s vdad really liked quiet people decided to have a cat fight with tommy

he called tommy a fool and he called him a silly clot, and he also said, the reason why i do this cause i love you tommy and i love both

of my two sons, i am trying to settle you 2 down, so tommy’s dad went into tommy’s room and tickled him and gave him a round the room

piggy back, and as he tickled him, he said, tickle tickle tum tum tickle tickle too, tickle;tickle tum tum tickle my two sons yo hoo

and this made tommy very excited as he was feeling the very big boney fingers of his father, press into his stomach, and as his father

tickled ernie, ernie laughed as well, but when tommy met johnno, who said be like us, and johnno partied with tommy and spoke to ernie and

ernie said to johnno tommy poos his pants and he talks to himself and johnno laughed along with ernie and tommy said, you are a *******

a really big *******, i make the first mate who liked me for me, and you spoil it ernie and ernie said ha ha tommy is a loser, baby, you can’t change me

and tommy was upset so he crawled through the drainpipe and he portended he was kidnapped and thrown into a garbage hopper by some drinkers

in a near by pub, and tommy lied to johnno, saying he got mugged, just to have johnno walk home with him, because tommy was a tad scared

of what bad guys will do to him, and johnno said, don’t be shy, be one of us good guys, be one of us good guys buddy, and now he watched the

anzac day march, tommy wanted to pay his respects to the fallen diggers and every april 25, wild horses couldn’t get in the way of tommy going

to the march to pay his respects and he is ready to enjoy everything that his dad taught him, now tommy’s dad his dead. tommy still wants to be

a bubbly little cool kid, but he isn’t a kid

I want to write something;
I want to write something now.
And I am going to write it.
Here. Now. I write.

There are some people who buy new phones,
Some buy cameras and some buy laptops.
They change the things they have.
I changed too.
I chopped the hair off my head.

Some people leave the place they live.
For a short while, sometimes for long.
They travel far and wide, see different things.
I saw different things too.
I chopped the hair off my head.

Some people write. They write so many things.
They write stories. They write poetry. They write songs.
And some write blogposts.
I wrote a part of my life.
I chopped the hair off my head.

There are people who love to get pampered.
By spas, salons and exotic oils.
Many a time by loved ones and pets.
I pampered myself.
I chopped the hair off my head.

Some people like speed.
They ride cycles, motorcycles, cars on long wide highways.
Some ride chariots in their dreams.
They like the rush.
I felt the rush too.
I chopped the hair off my head.

Some people play music.
They play guitar, piano, drums and some sing.
Some play anything they can find near-by.
I sing too.
But I still chopped the hair off my head.

I have seen people play for hours.
They play cricket, they play football, they play games on the x-box.
And some play mind games with other people.
I hardly play anything,
But I chopped the hair off my head.

Some people cook, eat and drink.
I love to cook, eat and drink too.
Even then I chopped the hair off my head.

People say, she has gone mad to have done so.
People say, she is gay to have done so.
People say she has insects in her head or diseases in her body to have done so.
And I had just chopped the hair off my head.

Madness it seems; but freedom it is.
Gay it seems; but a deep love for self it is.
Insects and diseases it seems; but healing from sickening monotony it is.
A style statement it seems;
"Oh you are in a design school! Its cool how you guys do crazy stuff!" ,
But a part of the inner being it is. It was and it will be.

Simply put, fun it is,
Living it is, loving it is.

Going bald it is.

It was the summer of 2005. I remember being 16 and packing my suitcase with my sister. We were getting ready to leave for San Diego the next morning. That's where the cruise ship departed from by the way. We were going to visit the warm beaches of Mexico, and walk along the golden sands.
Families selling handcrafted goods neatly stretched on the stands of Mazatlan.
Then there was the forest. Everything in the rain forest comes alive before you and the air was wet like one of those Korean spas you never want to leave. The other travelers we'd meet on the boat were like us, and we were like children experiencing the magic of Disneyland for the very first time.

You may have all the money and care,
Buy it won't give you health
You may buy all the cars and spas,
But it still doesn't bring BLISS
You may be strong,
You may be tough,
You may write like I DON'T CARE,
you may give all the kids their Fare,
You may be THE GENIUS INTHIS DEN,
you may be intelligent
And with one poem,
You hit ALL SUFFICIENT,
But when your health comes crashing,
You won't get it back
With all the money and SUNDRY,
You won't get it back
With that CAR OR SPA.
Listen very carefully,
Money will go,
Cars will go,
All will blow,
and when you look aback,
You will discover that You
Have nothing,
You are not the landlord on earth,
For all that You see will fade
And even you,  will rot in grave someday.
So run,
Run,
Run with FLAIR AND CARE,
RUN WHILE THERE'S STILL TIME
RUN INTO THE ARMS OF GOD,
and
REALISE
YOU are nothing without CHRIST.

The star-gate crystals are clear
calm in energetic planetary power
they balance and pattern life
the eclipse of galactic alignment

Inside the code is a vision sung
a visitation of the gods of the pyramid
with ears and mind, secreted in a vault
a tidal change of global distribution

The land where gods are humans
scribed on the walls and columns
a father consummates with daughter
whilst she parades her bosoms to others

Time travelled spas of radiant beams
waters bubbles with innate channels
coition to exchange ****** energy
a life force extension of the star-gate

funny how they write in their spare time poetry, or that they
write poetry in their spare time as art's necessity:
the fifth minding the four are lacking in functioning
accountability - never necessary, but always there.
poetry akin to such past-times as gluing together
model aeroplanes - what a shame for the art
that no longer attracts the upper-muddle class
to "excess" themselves as if salvaging something
worth a brief encounter with the Antiques' Roadshow.
the love i loved since the Renaissance was
extinguished ever since we've been left with
part-time art, artists on the sly -
more than impotent popes -
i mean impotent popes, impotent popes -
old men knowing as much of art
as the art of decoration - floral canapes
and wallpaper scraps? that'll do.
royal highness, hmm, whatnot?
crimson is synonymous with cherry on paper -
but in an artwork totally antonymous,
the peculiarity of shades necessary - old stink
of unpolished mahogany of Burgundy, the deep red
almost brown - settling into respectably dated bottles.
i guess democracy is short-lived,
we're all uneducated illiterate X on the ballot papers -
sign your name with X -
but they educated us and robbed us at the same time -
all you have left concerning a *** life is
consolidation in ******* -
a cocktail shaker ******* to mind
along with the guillotine - chopped off, not stirred.
well, i'm sure they care, care as much
for their children's teddy bear - ooh smooch coma
self-abuse - the revealing part is st. Paul's cathedral -
as once it stood in zeppelin shadow,
so too it stood in the Focke-Wulf Ta 154 Moskito's shadow:
biblical reminiscence of the lord of mosquitoes
rather than Beelzebub - and a McDonald's takeaway;
western society is so ******* keen on utilising
respected sadism - so keen that it doesn't bother to read
books - the paranoid me says to the un-paranoid me?
why would these people once salon bound
educate us for the purpose of reading by making reading
non-vogue - if they themselves have not found
reading a part based on a stiffening? but i hardly think
a book is worth a pyramid of human sweat - less brow
and more armpit sweat - i still find it frightening that they
seemed to educate us in order to read book reviews
and become informed via that than the actual books themselves -
meanwhile the Chinese are laughing with "menial" labour
kindred of the unconscious prescribe of the drum-kit of the heart,
via being existentially less demanding -
via a respect for family - what with the sadist nurses
and aged soiled great-grandparents in fly-saliva-spas
on the quick to comment on your professionalism and keen
career making.... well, urbanity served us well,
until the times of: not so well.
oh sure, my vocabulary can sometimes become a
chewing gum simulation - elsewhere it's considered pure fibre:
means you eat less than you **** out.

i am a young dude

a very cool young dude

i am happy all the time

then a bully came up to me

and said

i will take your young dude away

you see i go to the movies

and i see a flick that is grand

and then this bully came up to me and said

i will take your young dude

i don’t want that for i am cool, man

the coolest dude in the world

i said you can’t take my young dude away

because you are a spas

i am a young dude

a cool young dude

i love life oh yes i do

then this bully came up to me

and took my young dude away

i love life oh yes i do yeah

i will party like a young dude does

sure i might be disabled

but i am better than this bully

oh yeseree

i might be a spaz i might be a geek

or even a dweeb

but no bully in their right mind

will ever take my young dude away

Suppose there is no life in space, just us. And we inhabit Mars,
air condition Venus. Hold family barbecues, national holidays
on Mercury. Fly to Jupiter for spas of ammonium nitrate.
And go farther afield in the galaxy and on to other galaxies
leaving behind map-faced men, crow-like women and open gates.

Who will be the first-born human on the moon? News
from the moon colony! And so on, on every planet where
we've visited and established dusty villages or vast cities
over thousands of centuries. Then, will we not have somewhere,
somehow, under some sun's rays become another species?

Hello!

These are my thoughts, I guess,
A pause so I have a moment to digress...
To ingest,
and address,
that we're blessed,
but obsessed,
with the best,
without rest,
Always have the right answer because life is a test.
Surely this must be some form of jest.

A lie? Okay, tell me why.
Hmm. Okay. Listen to the Rhye.
or Rhyme?

Stillness brings a sense of interlude
Contemplate what will be left as residue
When Chaos defines what's the norm,
and Peace is overdue
Attempting to reconcile
what's old and new...
What a view.

Our actions are crude.
personality that's ****,
treated as askew,
spreading bitter news,
pretend we have the clues,
for a world that's filled with the blues?

What a truth...
And still,
we have to worry about
the pearly gates interview?
What a zoo.

Let me not assume,
Is this you?

Boards, first cause, by-laws, cars, mars, spas, bourgeoise, laws, closed doors, outlaws, applause, paws, claws, jaws, gnaws, gauze, grandma bawls, falls, withdraws, in-laws, clause, chainsaws, bedstraws, grandpa roars, draws, broken doors, floors, gauze, self-applause, laws, clause, outlaws, closed metal door, applause.
I pause.
Yours?

How are you?

Half moon high
In a deepening sky
The clouds like spider cotton,
Like blue ivory husks betwixt
Umber grey misty fog,
The diablerie of dusk
Dark sky and stars

The streets flooded,
a river of headlights, flashlights,
Sidewalks’ pedestrian traffic,
An Armada of munchkins, crowds
Strolling by Chinatown’s
Crisp neon plazas,
A necropolis bright with
Cartoon sharp signage
Accessorizing restaurants with
Jade And gold, foot spas
And red doors…
Horrors of hangings
Roast ducks and pigs decapitated…

Yet the evening is dressed finely still
All eyes lurking
Shadows floating by
Not to be forgotten tonight
Dias de las Muertos
En espanol…

While down the road
Neighborhood way
Skitters Lilliputian creatures
In shells of Saver’s costumes
As squeals of laughter festoons
Boulevard life with
Tiny tintinnabulations
Like baby rattlers
Against the dark
(Maracas for chupacabras)

Timorous parent folk
Encouragement as company,
They Scurry past
Down dim spatial street
In demand of what is given freely
From each and every door
Treat and sweets
Caries galore
All their tricks cached in grins
Of baby teeth
turn candy corn…

Mischievously the meek milk
All Hallows' Eve For
Hallowed be the glee
Even tho' beneath
The web of grey cloudy sky
Life is precious
To deny
The thirsty as it rains

Misery’s loss deep dismal graves,
We should live in celebration
Childlike everyday
Sing and dance
In the October rain
In this wonder
Like rattlers against the dark

Far from wastes of
Hollow wind and pain,
Chilling cries, bleeding eyes,
Undead the unseen
From this cirque city of sins
Offsprings on the strip
Fearless on the boulevard
Treating & tricking
With ole candied lies…

All done up in bright disguise
Happy Halloween.

Lost.
One of the worst feelings a person could have,
Especially if you're a complete spas.
When I think of the ugly future I have yet to come,
I feel all alone like a mob making me feel shunned.
I feel like a lunatic when I explode being all up in my anger mode,
I cuss out my parents like there is nothing to it.
I just spit these cussing mean wits like Kevin Hart.
But these white angelic suns like to make these evil puns.
But these suns burn out,
And this cycle happens again,
While I feel great when I'm on these pills,
Striding thru these fiery flower beds is a pain and makes me sane at the same time.
But when they die off,
It's like I got shot, or in fact, me firing the gun itself.
I make rash decisions while I make deep incisions into my skin,
Making my future kin want to jump of that high blimp,
Because of what I do to myself.
I am just a lying book on that shelf,
Covered in that pixie up dust.
While my life looks all glum and busted,
Someone finally picks up my book,
Blows off that wondrous pixie dust,
And starts to read,
To understand my pain.
Finally!! Someone understands why I have mixed stains in the once clean green paint!
Starting my new life will be rough,
But I know I can be tough and get thru this ****** stuff.
And now, I'm starting to find my self out of this wretched forest,
And I'm on my way finding that gold in that wooden chest.

Landing in Bali, you are greeted by the hot and humid weather,
Tourists throng from world over, going hither and thither,
The colorful atmosphere on arrival is a prelude to fun that is in store in this haven,
As excited visitors hop into taxis and head to hotels to which they are driven

The island is famous for it's yoga and meditation retreats,
Also for the vast number of two-wheelers plying on narrow streets,
The landscape greenery is so lush and refreshing as you drive through,
That the reason it is called "paradise on earth" so easily strikes you

The multitude of handcrafts on display at roadsides is such an unique feature,
The variety of intricate stone carvings is as diverse as the mind can conjure,
You cannot but admire the skill and patience of artisans working countless hours,
Carving out majestic designs in stone, wowing buyers to say "this is ours"

At other roadsides are displayed stunning hand blown slumped glass bowls on driftwood,
Each uniquely hand crafted for the specific end use that you decide if you could,
Molten glass takes on wood, creating a wonderful terrain for flowers, floating candles and an endless wish list,
The finished products are a touch exotic, making them must-have mementos for the visiting tourist

The famed rice terraces stretching across the countryside are so ethereal,
The manner in which farmers came up with this ingenious concept appears so surreal,
Steep mountains and deep gorges that were a topographic deterrent to cultivate rice,
Circumvented through creation of gorgeous terraces for water sharing, as if in a trice

Kopi Luwak coffee is one of the most expensive coffees in the world,
It is a Bali specialty with an interesting history that one gets to be told,
Free sampling of eight teas and coffees of different unique flavors at the coffee farm is on offer,
A must-have experience with the scenic splendor of rice fields below, on which views don't differ

Batik is considered the original Indonesian textile which has a worldwide reputation,
Visiting a Batik factory to whet the curiosity requires a bit of determination,
Such is the wide array of colorful floral and geometric design motifs seen on display,
That one cannot resist the temptation to splurge on shopping, before deciding to walk away

Some of the most mystical waterfalls in the world can be seen in Bali,
Many of them are hidden in the backdrop of rice fields and mountainous valleys,
Reaching dizzy heights that seemingly merge with treetops, make the views gorgeous and enchanting,
Waterfalls vie with one other in visual splendor, making it appear that nothing is found wanting

The majority of Balinese identify themselves with the Hindu religion,
Taking pride in their identity, prevalent over centuries in the region,
Numerous Hindu temples spread across the island is therefore not surprising,
Most with a history of their own, necessitating a visit to the more enterprising

Yoga, meditation and wellness retreats are spread all over the island in natural and exotic settings,
Surrounding jungles, waterfalls and trickling waters of rivers lend an ambience that feels so settling,
Massage treatments, spas and water healing sessions also facilitate visitors' well-being,
Such programs assist in mastering the body, mind and clarify life's purpose among other mundane things

Spas have sprung up near and far
With chirping sparrows eager to spar
With nearly half the fairer *** toiling abroad
At the beck of oil rich sheikhs
And others at home shunning your every move
That brings to life the resultant boredom
So whats up for the pent up and the rejected
They move up the steps to chirping sparrows.

Rejected yes so long neglected
Years been counting, now have lost the count
Moved up the steps to the nesting place
Seeking solace with a chirping bird
Smiling coyly they were all in a row
With long eye lashes and  rosy red lips
Selecting one was a arduous choice
Sparrows yearning to meet the hawk in guise.

The little sparrows why are they on offer
To earn a few rupees to fill their coffer
They give and take its no plunder
So why demean them who work for their supper
Sometimes at sparring do they get hurt
No sparring should always be a friendly flirt
Sparrow you are at a corner of my heart
The memory of that sweet ecstasy is going long last.

When sun hangs low and Rome is swathed
in faded gold on winter days
Like Nero creeps the hooded night
To set the dimming skies ablaze

The Emperors now seem no more real
than painted figures on a page
Than onyx head on cameo
or villain strutting on a stage

Those tyrants with their pleasure boats
their marble spas and saffron pools
Who smothered guests in flower drifts
and set their palace walls with jewels

Who lazed in frescoed gardens filled
with citrus fruit and roaming beasts
And gorged on grapes and peacock brain
while hosting wild and lavish feasts

Their temples walls and aqueducts
still stand upon the Hills of Rome
But now they bear a jaded air
like moulderlng golden honeycomb

And so we build our citadels
and rich make fortress of their wealth
But none can halt the March of Time
that sieges all with lichen-stealth

Indeed it matters not if one
is born patrician or a slave
When even those who don the purple
face the shadow of the grave

Their palaces are relics now
once gleaming bronze is stained with rust
While pillars crumble, marble cracks
and flow'ring Empires turn to dust

And 'midst this splendour and decay
I think of all that once was mine
Of ruins and the sighing pine
as sun sets on the Palatine