The little Toblerone bar,
a sweet one he is,
with his heart all a flutter.
He wanted to be mighty,
with as much strength
as he could muster.

Powerful as the pyramids!
Cool as the Swiss Alps!
Majestic as the Everest!
He dreamed of it all;
to become
greater than China's Wall.

But what he never realized
Through his chocolate brown eyes
Was his pride before his own fall.

Like the Everest, Swiss Alps,
Even the mysteious Pyramids,
Humans have stripped them
of their treasure.
Because Toblerone was broken down
to be eaten just for pleasure.

i came to you for a straight path
with no crossroads and walls at the sides
to lock in my free mind as best one can;

but you built my dreams back up instead
like collapsed buildings after a war
(which, in a way, they were);
you restored me at the start.

for pocket change, you took my soul
and folded it until it was an origami crane
that soared over mountaintops and deep blue seas
and lived off hopes and wishes and dreams;
a tiny piece of paper, flower print
that came to life to watch the foxtail valleys
and toblerone mountains of my mind
and it watched the memories of me riding among the clouds
and swimming in clear turquoise waters
and crying over friendships lost.
we will always remain that way
you form me, fold me, throw me into the air
while I remain, just cellulose, pliant, never my own -
yours to be ripped apart.

it was what i came for, after all.


cs

2nd of Jan all revved up
Another cup of tea in another tea cup
Back to work sharp and raring to go
Cup of tea gone, the start is slow

Happy New Year you say with glee
The guy over there is staring at me
I pick up the pace and give it some wellie
Oh crap I think he's staring at my belly

Peanuts, crisp, Toblerone and cake
Turkey, trifle all on your plate
Just eat and sit until you're ill
As you tell yourself just sit and chill

Must get fit and lose some weight
Tuesday arrives you come home late
Chicken Pie, peas and a pint of beer
Same old same old Happy New Year!

when i’m feeling kinda sick, i fill my stomach with some ****

when i’m feeling kinda down, i eats lots of chocolate brown

when I wanna **** myself, I go raid the pantry shelf

when I’m feeling all alone, I buy fancy toblerone

it truly is a rare find...
          no... not louis zukofsky's -A-...
juggling adorations for Bach's
polyphony...

       i need to sketch this...

i have two demands...
    a young man should only read
philosophy when he was
started to tease his 21st birthday...

by accident: and no accident...
Hume of all people...
            but i was young and i made
a faux pas:
i started to collect music... compact disks...
too early on...
i should have listened to the radio...
it's not like i will
return to... taproot...
i might return to: dry **** logic...
i will not return to korn
or slipknot...

although... when mojo was still
in print... and there was that prog rock
special... and i... bought up...
the top 50 prog rock albums...
some yes records...
gentle giant...
                        pink floyd doesn't count...
king crimson...
doesn't count either...

in all honesty:
   the only albums i bought that...
are not a "mistake" of...
youth...

             probably the oeuvre by tool...
but then... that's writing musing:
something one might enjoy in
the background... writting... doodling...
some music prevents you from
simply listening to it...

i can't remember the last time
i wanted to rhyme my words...
    i somehow had to... think rhyming
to be... something to be abhorred...

if sarcasm is the lowest form of wit...
then... rhyming is the lowest
form of escapism:
how one might pride oneself
claiming a rhyme...
                      
           i can't remember the last time
i took a tool album on a bus ride...
or read a book to it...
   i desired... metaphorical laying of bricks...
to be absolved by the music:
cushioning the background...

    a bit like... Proust lining his study
with cork...
  there was always a music to fall asleep to...
when i discovered...
christopher young's hellraiser soundtrack...
hammock's ketonic...
dead can dance - into the labyrinth...
            
    when i first heard ola gjeilo's northern
lights choral pieces...

combichrist - today we are all demons...
godspeed! you black emperor...
die krupps - machnists of joy
:wumpscut - bunkertor sieben...

                   an ex-girlfriend elevated
me from rammstein toward in extremo...
i elevated myself toward...
   garmarna...
wardruna... hedningarna...
    żywiołak...
                      danheim...
                                                heilung...

i also found some lao che...
                      notably the gusła album...

demdike stare - tryptych - £30 for a c.d.,
not a vinyl... and i did buy it...
   vomito nergo - fall of an empire...
hanzel und gretyl - uber alles... etc.

             wooden schjips - west...
            distance - repercussions...
   dead skeletons - dead magick...
       the besnard lakes - until in excess...
   uncle acid & the deadbeats - blood lust...
naam...
    the soft moon...
              allah-las...
    the chromatics...
         pablopabo & ludziki...
           black ox orkestar - nisht azoy...

last time i heard... music under the radar...
vex'd...                     burial - untrue...
          which probably translates best
in the north east of london...
from that... doom of the southern estates...

   rotting christ... a greek "dark metal" band...
kata ton daimiona...
    susumu yakota - grinning cat...
       beat bizarre - somersault industries...
younger brother - weird on a monday night...
bohren & der club of gore - mightnight radio...

   i listed all these examples for no
particular reason...
  apart from: i did buy physical copies
of these records...
   i don't trust the radio in...
either playing any of this material...
there's already that whole...
affair of    HARAKIRI DIAT -
  primitive knot - puritan...
                 ******* of brutalism...
                    years of denial - body map...
filmmaker...
          i'd love to own a physical copy...

it could be just so plane jane & basic
to know what you were looking for...
honestly: it doesn't work like that...
that "thing" you were "looking" for?
it has actually been looking for you...
  you are only sieving...

    irritated by a stressed rubber-band
song on replay... sick-poppy-uber-glue-pop
song like mabel's: don't call me up...
or... britney spear's criminal...

                  ****** ***** music taster...
or... refreshing a desire for iggy "z" pop(s)...
but sometimes an album just happens...

always big into the dandy warhols...
every time... she said...
you listen to... good morning...
think of me and how you ****** me...
ex-girlfriends...
and a brief mythology of smurfs... to boot!

one album stood out...
from all those listed...
     i was never a big fan... prior to...

                  aufheben...
                 by none other than...
the brian jonestown massacre...

           that's one album... and the other?
heavy moon's... fünfzehn (15)...
      it's not a case of itchy-thumbs...
but the drill srgt. of rhythm stole my index
and thumb on this one...

    music: it's hardly what i think of it...
it's what feeling it dictates me to write...
no... i could never be a needle-drop...
internet's busiest musical nerd...
i can't fathom music like a nerd...
a drunk? oh yeah... as a...
a music that i enjoy drinking to...
rather than writing...
   that's a breath of fresh air...
   like ******* for virginity...
  that same quote: yes... making war for peace...

then... on a second listening...
neue echos der erinnerung... what a blast...
too busy... fidgeting with my
constipated variation of solipsism...
echo-sputnik...
years down the line...
someone less... disinhibited...
took to warping time and gizmos
with a pen and a litany of typos...

     a rare moment... false praises...
in the moment though: the angels were singing...
then... memories...
too many memories of...
     tangerine dream... and... kraftwerk...
sensible... german music...
no... i was completely wrong...

i guess i was my usual self...
perched on a windowsill
sitting on my folded foot...
and i caught a "neighbour" looking
at me from afar...
   trying to escape the straitjacket
of glued-eyes to t.v. mantras...
and i decided: fun to catch a rhythm...
and **** clicked...
there was a lunar eclipse...
the sun-worshippers suffered a great deal...

i did buy the van **** parks album...
songs cycled... oh yeah!
big fan! i used it... to pass the time...
when... decorating the civil room...
                     pokój (room and peace)...
   ciwilny... i.e.: the living room...
        well... when i was painting the ****
"think outside the box"...
to watch the box... with my dear dear
muvva...
                   because...
you'd only listen to van **** parks...
when... painting a living room
with your mother... moving furniture...
that sort of: project of escapism...

     medieval music and orthodox byzantine chants...
medieval music and...
frank zappa... not the music... though...
the interviews...
             walther von der vogelweide...
                  chevalier, mult estes guariz...
       vox vulgaris - la suite meurtriere...
                    
some people should know...
their language is not... yet... supposed...
peer...

the concept of
the diminutive...
    mały-malutki-maciupki...
the diminutive as a form of endearing...
a size...
wielki-wielgochi...
                      diminutive:
concerning the same word...
a standard prefix... a suffix variation
of gradation...
because! yes! english is awash with
said: plenty!
                    the assured: sire
of the shat upon: shire... by queer
buckingham!
                
                  for any love...
this most loved... this debased...
and a loot of a frown....
          the furrowed brows...
to own a bed to fit two sleeping
in it... ******* in it...
yet more... is to presribed from
an "effort" of sleeping on the hardening...
beside it...
like a greed riddled *****
of a bed-fellow caving to... scrutiny...

furrow-of-brow-down-bidden...
because of a leisured frown...
this and what... to escape with a love...
made ideal...
less of a love and less of
the gymnast who might parade
with ******* statures
of: the well bent...
that of the AK-47... and WD-40...
well oiled... scripture...

                  the music enjoyed...
the music orb: tow: revised...
              
  fidgeting... fetching... fidgeting...
fetching... calls for nuance...
loop holes.... writing under the
policy of spoken truths...
BBC radio 4... depeche mode...
punk-esque and...
              and writing under
the... lost under-belly...
who who's of the cringe fest...
  litany... mollusks r us...
   and... the crab-fetish...
   gamer-no-gamer:
biggest hard-on...
                like... the insensitive...
parody of *******...

                              kippah looters...
******* statues...
old school cringe and toblerone lego...

maurice! oh maurice!
please entertain the advent of
whittle steward!
              
  yes... best to pretend to grieve.

Our faces are human faces
Our hearts are that of aliens
Every person, a single story,
Star lights of a tumbling night
So many worlds of degrees
At such distance to another
Lament, that we can venture
Only so far, into the house
Of another’s heart
Only know so much
Of its dusty and corrugated eaves
Of the space besides its pillows
Of the things you’ve lost and gained.

Fingers apart, and worlds diverged.
Each mind an entity alone.

If I poke a hole into your wrapping,
Will out come a tumult of emotions
- Crashing through the dam gate!
Or, if you’re so stoic,
All the layers I’ll have to unpeel
Before touching
The naked skin.

If only I can live
Through all that you lived
See with your eyes the world
I so passionately know

If only I can say,
You are me
And I am you
And I’m the golden Toblerone
Buried underneath your house

Maybe only then
Will I find a softer world
In the caves behind my house.

Those Pharaohs
knew that when the
winds blew
it was time to tuck
the togas in.

life, Jim,
is not a Toblerone shaped
pyramid amid the desert sands

they say many hands make light work,
not so!
when the bulb's busted,
you're basically ******* and left in
the dark.

Did Pharaohs wear togas?

Arctic Cathedral

You are a Prism,
You are a Pyramid
You are the peak of the Pole.

You're an Icesosceles Triangle
You are a beacon or a Spike
You are a frosted Toblerone.

You are a Fuji
You are an Aspen
You are an Everest.

You are an Anything
You are a Something
You are an Everything,

You are a Sail
You are a Scale
You are a Chard

You are a Munch
You are an Ibsen
You are Amundsen

You are Nocturnal
You are Diurnal
You are a Star

You are an Icicle
You are a Waterford Crystal
You are a Stalagmite.

You are the Sine
You are the Cosine
You are the Tangent.

You are a Pagoda
You are a Point
You are a Paradox.

You are an Illusion
You are a white Seclusion
You are a Mirage.

You are Ribbed
You are Cribbed
You are Ad-Libbed

You are Algebra
You are Geometry
You are Trigonometry

You are the Alfa
You are the Apex
You are the Anthem

You are Sensual
You are Superb
You are Sublime.

Architecturally Eccentric
Optically Simplistic
Spiritually Divine.










Ps

The Arctic Cathedral is in
Tromso, North Norway.

Google it, it is stunning.
I wrote this whilst sitting
there today.

Swiss Chard Of The Alps


  Chocolate Coated Legend


        Toblerone® Logo




Ps

The Matterhorn

All hail the Toblerone
King of the awkward chocolates
If you buy a big one on a plane
It'll drain all of your pockets
Of residual dollars or euros
Bhatt **** or lek
Or **** it!
Why not dash off
Your last travellers cheque

Honeyed almond sweetness
Who could decry that
Only the honeyed almond intolerant
And you can never trust them *****
Just it's satisfying chunkiness
It's heft and it shape
Is something deeply pleasing
The chocolate biscuit it doth take

It's true name lost to time
It should be Tobler one
For its creator was named Tobler
And he'd only just begun.

But there he stopped.

The other day I was in my lounge eating a toblerone when Bertha walked in,

"Ooh babe, save me a bit, will ya?"

"Oh, ******* Bertha, let me enjoy it."

"I thought you loved me."

"Yeah, but.."

"Ok, be like that. I just bought some chocolate trifles. I think I'll have one now."

What a crafty minx she was. Bertha knows I adore chocolate trifles.

"Ok beautiful, here you go, have my last two pieces."

She swiped them without hesitation, chucking them into her mouth and barely chewing before swallowing them almost whole.

"Mmm, yummy. So babe, you wanna a trifle?"

"Yes, please."

"You'll have to chase me for one."

So I chased her around the house. For a big girl, Bertha can't half shift. I had trouble keeping up.

Eventually she tripped and landed on the sofa face up. Her large shapely ***** heaved as she gathered her breath.

Bertha's arms were outstretched.
Joining her,
I gladly let them envelop me.

We kissed passionately.

I looked into her beautiful hazel eyes and felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

We kissed a bit more before I led her to the bedroom.

Settling back on the sofa, Bertha and I snuggled.We watched TV and ate the remaining trifles.

What a gal.