Tiktok
The clock says in a hurry
Tiktok
The clock croaks in a constant rhythm

Pit pat
The rain rattling on the roof
Pit pat
The rain runs down in a fast marathon

Dug dug
The heart of your mistress beats
Dud dug
The heart of your lady pulse in a slow dance

Your lady in her white dress
On the floor she lays
Her eyes closed
Her hand closed tight into a fist

Her light lavender hair
Splayed around her head like a halo
Her bottom lip is bleeding
Her breathing unsteady

Kling klang
The chimes sings in a high note
Kling klang
The chimes chants in an attempt of announcement

Woosh woosh
The wind blows harshly
Woosh woosh
The wind whispered loudly

Dug dug dug
The heart of your mistress beats
Dud dug dug
The heart of your lady pulse in chaos

The clock
The rain
The chimes
The wind

Even her heart
The letter clasped in her hand
That contains the news of your demise
Reminds her of what she lost

Drip drip drip
The tears streaming down her face
Sniff sniff sniff
The grief starts to set in

Woosh!
a disturbance
the cool air atop this cliff shakes with reverberence

turning my head
like the flick of a switch

energy ripples out
from the tip of this wing
a pair of another pair
Woosh!

harp and round edges of frames make

hard thumps

bumps in your chest that fall

into your stomach balling-up

as you might in a woman’s four-lettered

sphere of a gut

which opens my barren

heart to the other

-on a decent starting point, or the act of breathing

I'm not fit
to live the life,
to shrug the burden
off my shoulders.

Weep, weep...
woosh - woosh - woosh,
dang-dang, dang-dang:
bye bye, bye...

There goes your train...
Let it go, let it go!

Let the air breathe your lungs,
let the wind bleed your ears.

Then ask
what you really -
what you really want:
what you - or I - really need.

I write you to sleep
in the other room
the leaves and fire of
your dream wisdom,
a dosha to create
each particular function
wrought in sweet, bitter, uncanny can-can
last night I saw you
in the rain with my
jean jacket
you asked about your face
and read me
catholic gospel/the body’s innate wisdom
free of threadworms, windup toys,
each nasty gut of wind
when I love you
I always see you in white
(this is all the time)
and you clear the toxins
from my accounts,
hold up my husband by
his flags,
tell him to
woosh
woosh
woosh
there is a pearl at
the bottom of us
and we touch it with
un-bitten fingers
this essential does not
go unnoticed in
our hearts but
ties our mouths so
we cannot speak—
a grammar lesson on love
and checkmate of birdwings
you awaken
come out for your phone
tell you to go back to sleep
you smile

I have so much to love god for

Up one hill, down another,
perfectly fine til my car makes a splutter.
Crip crack go, puff puff puff,
**** it, this road may have been to tough.
My legs ain't as good as they used to be,
so I guess I'll just have to postpon my trip
to the coun'try

Flat land, low land, what my br'ain fails to understand
is how i'll ever see this place ag'ain.

Up one hill, down another,
perfectly fine til my car makes a splutter.
Crip crack go, puff puff puff,
**** it, this road may have been to tough.
My legs ain't as good as they used to be,
so I guess I'll just have to postpon my trip
to the coun'try

Sea life, cut the rope with your new knife,
slice, slice, slice

Up one wave, down another,
perfectly fine until my boat starts to flutter
woosh woosh woosh, do boats have a caboose?
My swimmin aint good as it used to be,
guess I'll see you someday, please,
will you say hi to coun'try,
for me?

17/30
long walk through a park
an abandoned swing set sits
waiting just for you

18/30
thump-thump-thump-thump
woosh-click-click-beep-thump-woosh-thu­mp
broken radio

4 little steps to one.
8 little steps to his two.
Rustling leaves, and
A full harvest moon.

The price of walking late at night,
Or early in the morning -
Freshly spun cobwebs,
Dew on your shoes.

Little leaf shoots,
Springing into view.
Stillness, and quiet
That honors the day,
Frames the fear and
Freezes the anxiety,
Transforming them into
a vibrant Matisse.

Expressions of self are
On the way. Freed from
The frenzy of coffee brain
By fresh air, and nature.

Because each meme has value,
and brought together,
they are profound.
All tasks have a purpose,
All things have a sound.
The woosh of the wind,
The crackle of dry leaves.
The crunch of cold
Beneath my feet.

This is not a straight path.

This path is cyclical -
Living one day at a time,
One walk at a time,
These moments are mine.

U no, eat sins two mee,
u guise knead
two loose wait
sew hear, aye woosh
two
offal ewe sum add vice

Ewe can star art
**** ditto menation
aunt u knead too exorcise
Moove eat, keep mooving
moove mulch;  doe nut ****
down two mulch, move you’re *****
inn smell poorshuns
Ant walk two da shups
in stayed off you sing da carr

Dee impotent ding
hiss da wheel
four wear they’re’s
a wheel, they’re’s all weighs
a weigh
goad lick
loose wait
anne stain hell tea

Drip drop
pitter patter
the sound of kitten's feet.

Woosh Swirl
the wind tells
the sound of secrets sweet.

BOOM BOOM
thunder claps
the sound of sweet release.

Flash twirl
lightening dances
across the city streets.

YOU are what my mind is craving.
YOU are not what my body wants.
YOU are what makes my heart flutter.
YOU are making my feelings go WOOSH

but

I am not what you need right now.
I am not even close to crossing your mind.
I am not the one to save you.
I am not what'll make your heart go WOOSH

So as long as YOU and I are no WE.
What is the point of us then?

BUDDHA DOES THIS, IT SOUNDS ****** AWFUL, BUT BUDDHA'S HANDS ARE TIED
HE COULD **** DADS NEXT LIFE LIKE HE KILLED DAD, IT'S AWFUL, BUT LIFE ISN'T
ALL A BUNCH OF ROSES, I DREAM ABOUT A HAPPY FAMILY LOOK, AND THEN
WOOSH SOMEONE GRABBED ME, (STEVEN BRADLEY GRABS MY LAST LIFE GREAME THORNE) I HAVE FELT GREAT SPIRITIUALLY KNOWING THIS
AT PRESENT DAD AND ROBIN WILLIAMS HAVE BEEN REINCARNATED
AND RELATED TO JIMMY BARNES, DAD WAS GIVEN A YOUNG DUDE PRESENT
FROM BUDDHA FOR HELPING ME WHO IS CRONUS, UNDERSTAND MORE ABOUT THE WORLD, I AM LIKE THIS GIRL, I LOVE LIFE AND ARE TOO NICE FOR WEIRD SCHITZOPHRENIC VOICES, THANKS DAVID CAMPBELL FOR REBIRTHING WHAT BUDDHA TOLD ME, DUDES, AS CRONUS, TO SHOW THE BEAUTY OF EACH CORNER OF THE WORLD, AND I AM DOING IT THROUGH YOUTUBE, BUT ALL YOUTUBE JUNKIES LIKE ME, CRONUS'S CURRENT EARTH BODY, IS SHOWING
THAT THE WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL, AND I DID A BUDDHA CEREMONIAL SHOW
ON SUSIE'S AND MARCO'S BREAKFAST CLUB FOR KATRINA AND TOREY FROM
THE MARTIN PLACE SIEGE
WATCH MY YOUTUBEB SITES, AAA YOUTUBE TV AND AARON CLAYTON
SHOWING, HOW TO RID NEGATIVITY THE RIGHT WAY, I AM A BUDDHIST
AND I BELIEVE IN THIS REBIRTH OF BUDDHA

YOU SEE DAD WANTED TO STAY CLOSE TO AUSTRALIA, AND BE NEAR MORK FROM ORK
THE TWINS OF DAVID AND LISA CAMPBELL FROM CHANNELL 9
I HAVE BEEN MEDDLING WITH THE SOULS, TO SAY BUDDHA DOES WHAT IS GOOD FOR
THE LAST LIFE, NOT WHAT THEY WANT, BUT HE THOUGHT, DAD NEEDED
TO BE CLOSE TO ME A BIT, CRONUS YA SEE MY MATE THE MESSIAHDAN SAN, YA KNOW LOOKS ON THE INTERNET
AT RELIEF WEB.INT, TO WISH TSUNAMI'S, AND HIS CHARACTER WAS THAT BIG POWERFUL MAN, ME, I AM MORE LIKE THIS GIRL, WHO BELIEVES TO SUFFER
POSITIVELY, CAUSE WE CAN'T FIGHT THIS JEWISH MESSIAH, AND I FEEL BETTER
AS A KID, IN POSITIVE ENERGY, BUT I KNOW I AM A MAN BY AGE, BUT I AIN'T
INTO FIGHTING MUCH, CAUSE THAT IS THE REASON I SUFFER, THE POSITIVE WAY
DAN SANDER, WAS THE MESSIAH, WHO THINKS HE CAN CREATE THIS BLOKE COULD BE THE BUDDHA, CAUSE MENTAL ILLNESS IS A VERY TERRIBLE
THING, IT CAN SHOW, THAT ANYBODY CAN COMMIT CRIMES AND IT SHOWS
WHATEVER THEY'LL DO, IS DONE IN THE AID OF LOVE FOR THE FELLOW MAN
MIND YOU, I AM CRONUS AND BLACKBEARD THE PIRATE, AND I WAS KIDNAPPED IN
MY LAST 2 HUMAN LIVES, I AM ALBERT WALDRON, BUT I AM CRONUS HELPER
OF THE YA SEE I WAS THERE AS CRONUS, TO SPREAD THE WORLD FROM DOWN UNDER

TO LEARN ABOUT DIFFERENT CULTURES, AND LEARN A BIT ABOUT WHAT ****** PEOPLE

OFF, YA KNOW WHAT ****** PEOPLE OFF, HAVING TO EXPLAIN THEMSELVES TO A RELIGIOUS CHAP LIKE ME

I DON’T **** ANYONE OFF, AND NOBODY IS ******* ME OFF, APART FROM VOICES, ******* VOICES

******* SCHITZOPHRENIA FOREVER, BUT BUDDHA IS MAKING ME REALISE THAT THERE IS MORE

TO LIFE THAN MAKING PEOPLE SAYING YOUR SPECIAL

THE WORD IS REINCARNATION REBIRTH AND ENLGHTMENT, TRUST LOVE AND MERCY

BOING!
The harder the landing
the higher the bounce.
Up here all is clear
A transparent perspective
Wish I could levitate in this space.
WOOSH.
Here I plunge again.
Grasping for anything to hold me
To stop my fall.
THUD.
****.
I expected to bounce.
Walking around the gutter
looking for light in the dark
I am disoriented.
Lost in space.
I'll just have to find a new
height to scale to get outta this place.
Next time I'm up there
I'll hail cab to Cloud Nine
And ride around for awhile
checking out the scenery.
With some old school funk pulsing
from the speakers.
*pump pump pump

tsk tsk asterisk
        chk chk clap blam boom

sik click arsonic
         grip glap drap gloom

wix wax anthrax
               hop leap woosh slam

sip spike archetype
               cough crash anagram

hark bark blue monarch
            wrapped in a summer's day

tick tack heart attack
            passing the cabaret


she used to say words like
            bump, beep, buzz

until flutter fizz crunch chirp
            fell beams of a truss

and tenderly did hum zap sing
            in little vrooms and snags

did she meet unfortunate ends
           woof, crack, thud, down crags


shimmer shingles whisper dust
ugh, agh, yawn, sigh!
her eye sockets gathered such beautiful rust
and did crunch clink, flick and eek
to crack the numbing morning moon
but break, snap, bash, sink
into the hyphenated royal lagoon.

Imagine for a moment that the weather is a ******

She is bored as she peels off the chipping paint on my window
and with eyebrow raised flicks the pieces at my bed
(the same bed I am lying on)

I hear the woosh and flutter of her dress
as she parades and struts around.
She is purposely blowing cigarette smoke to my face
like a high and mighty *****
with painted lips and black stockings.

I pay her no heed

She screams and ruffles the trees for attention
flinging branches and leaves in a fit
she speaks and her spit hits my eyes in little droplets.

Her heavy breathing
and banging of doors and windows
is becoming a little too dramatic

I close the window again,
I've closed it a million times
and with her dainty fingers she pries it open to peek

she sulks in a corner
eyeing me crossly
annoyed at my reading
my writing
my contemplation

and true to her nature

          she does it all again...

Tired yet wired.
Running on caffeine, adrenaline and anticipation.
Like a railway forwarder
grinding on rusted tracks making them an orange metallic fairy dust.
Living in a wind of motion snd flying on my own.
And then I see you: a calm tornado of sense and serenity.
You pull me out and woosh! me up into the celestial realms where they sing a song of clarity and purity.
The chaos of my eyes is poured into a stella mixing bowl: processed.
Then drunk out.
As a flower with pink semi-translucent leaves.

Only I
row upon this stream
The oar hits the blue-green water
Only a woosh is heard upove and below

Above the water, the sunset deepens
Such crimson colors
Burnt sienna and deep purple
When the reflection of the sky meets the water
And you cannot tell where the sky begins or ends

The quiet thoughts of the mind
Simply disappear as quickly as they enter
The clouds have left, only stars remain
As they twinkle and shine as a prayer is answered.

This is where hope begins and faith is full
So magnificent and lovely
Heart grows and yearns for only this moment
Forever remembered, always kept as a photograph

Only I am
Rowing upon this water.

They were like gun shots but softer,
They were like firecrackers
                                              without the crack or fire,
There were so many I could not count them all,
                     then they were stopped in their fall.

The cars driving fast by the house,
were louder than before, a woosh, with a splash,
there was rumbling in the distance and a flash,
those meteorologists were right,
sixty percent chance this night,
                               of showers.

It is good to be part of the majority
for a change of weather,
how strange,
                      my dog is now glued to me,
I take no solace in her endearment see,
even in the midst of the slight downpour with
pyrotechnic effects,
                                  she wants me to take her
out the door to do her *business, but not alone.

Where the dead lie the flowers grow,
The trees shoot tall and the winds blow.
Resting in their eternal peace,
Memories live on and never cease.
Weathered stone and faded names,
At home, broken pictures in broken frames.
The woosh of an aeroplane flys overhead,
To honour their sacrifice and salute the dead.
For they have died so we might be free,
Lives lost inland and those at sea.
For we recall all that they gave,
As we whisper quiet prayers beside the grave.

In midst of thunderstorms I could see a house
Standing under a tree, eyes wide open
Rain have never poured more
Wind could not shout more


Sweat was blending with water on forehead
Sweat of failure, sweat of rejection
I knew I won’t enter, I knew I won’t knock
But then I saw lights turned on.

              
Invitation was mocking, possibilities were low
Will get grains only if you sow
Doors won’t remain open forever
Wait someone wants to enter
              

Inside was dry and warm
Fireplace was on, bar was open
Took what I see, spent what I owned
This is meant for me, I am meant for this


Attraction hypnotized deeply
Should it be a palace, who else could be the king?
Jolly heart then saw an ugly shadow!
The supposedly king was shown a visitors queue.


Eyes see with minds sight
Brain a diseased brain with optimism
Hunting Bear looks like black pet dog
Only when you are near enough to be prey


But when love hits, numbness surrounds
Considered taming a bear
Reconsidered retried insist pushed
But can a tide be turned


Woosh! Waash! Washed away
How long a castle of mud stands?
It waits for its wave to spread where it belongs
For other dreamers to try there skills?


With the fallen castle i still dream
Had i erected it a bit farther..
Had i put more effort..
But what could be a life in sand castle?

Your boom of fantastic
easily done;
all the ice
a time in the sun.

There are lots of topper things I adore on earth,
like cats, the moon and drunken mirth
or talking, the sea and a well buttered bun,
nights drawing in or long days in the sun.
Another thing I really like is having a shower in the morning,
it’s the perfect antidote to my just awoke yawning,
the aqua blast helps remove the yearning for more bed
the watery goodness bringing vitality to my head,
the soapy woosh invigorates and vamooses my alarm’s mesh,
I exit the bathroom feeling fantastically fresh
and when I’m sat on the bus to work I think “ohh, someone smells splendidly,
oh wait a minute, yeah, it’s me!
Now although I adore gliding into employment with the fragrance of roses
I don’t always heed my cleanliness craving after dozes,
If I’ve had a alcohol drenched Sunday with lots of venturing out
my wanting for a pre work bathe goes up the spout,
sometimes I’ll awake on Monday after a drunken slumber
and feel like I’ve been covered in a ton of lumber,
and think “right it’s either get up now and scrub myself clean
or hit snooze and have another 15”
as even musing on that is making what little energy I have sap
I pull the quilt tighter and take the nap,
the tiny jot of rest doesn’t even touch the side
and before I know I’m at the bus stop awaiting a ride,
I get on and sit down still knackered as hell
and think, “what is that that stale vino smell?
Ohh I bet someone unfortunate was sat here before me,
one of those who has to choose tween getting drunk and having their tea,
someone who everyday has to have more than a few,
then the penny drops, “Jesus Si that odour is coming from you!”
I’m weary, languid, my body is sore,
and because I didn’t shower I’ve got Pound Shop wine coming out of my pores
yeah 4 for tenner cheap plonk is great to toast the end of the paid employment week
but after 24 hours without a cleanse  it pongs pretty bleak,
I’ve got eau de toillete of rotten grape reek.
I hum like I’ve slept in a pre Herculean task Stables Of Aegean that’s been dosed in a dregs of wine pump,
or stench like a on the streets Oliver Twist spliced with a wino Stig Of The Dump.
The bus pulls up to work and before I head in I think I’ll grab something greasy to eat,
ohh, congealed fat mixed with a day on the beers stink, your mates’ nostrils are in for a treat.
I slob to my desk like the unbathed thing I feel
And ponder, “that shower later better be the real deal.”
But, I don’t always rue not having a shower on a Monday because sometimes it means I don’t have the aroma of a stale wine scene,
sometimes uncleansed has me feeling serene!
I remember one unshowered Monday as I’d seen you on the Sunday I smelt of that perfume you always wear,
cos as you’re huggy and tactile it was on my clothes, some of it was even in what was left of my hair,
and as that scent reminded me of you what swirled around me was your awesome breeze,
suffice to say that day of employment passed with ease,
as whenever I got bored of pretending to look at that work thing on Excel
i’d get a hint of your fragrance and my thoughts would propel
with,
your easy wisdom and penchant for a chats
how you like Amaretto and how you love cats,
how you help out animals when they’re feeling brittle
with the tender coo of a Dr Doolittle.
You can take a piece of junk that was discarded at leisure,
decorate it with aplomb and turn it into a treasure,
you’re a burst of energy, a buzzing sprite,
a pleasure to be around, a total delight,
you’re interested in the world, and quantum theory,
talking to you is never dreary,
you bounce around the pub fabulously gassing with the many folk you see,
opening conversations with your splendid key,
**** you seem as popular as me!
Ahh, your joyful demeanour and fantastic soar,
how could anyone fail to hear your wonderful caw;
Emma every time I see you I like you more!
And on those your perfume days when I do get home, hit the shower and feel cleanliness envelop my face
I think, “you know for a ***** day you turned out pretty ace!”!

They told me to write a poem,
Themed “The City Limits”,
I didn’t know what to write,
We didn’t know what to write!
My mind went blank,blank,blank.
With my favourite reddish-brown pencil trapped in my fingers
I slowly, steadily
Using a long ruler,
Drew a rectangle
I drew squares in that rectangle
It looked like a building
I drew more of them, even taller; yes taller ones that towered above the others completely
They peaked at the sky, bathed in an orange hue,
My mind was filled with an image,
Where trees swayed to the breeze
Swoosh! Woosh!
And cars moved bumper to bumper, caught up in the expressway.
Peep! Peep!
Bonk! Bonk!
A lively city, this little red dot is, But the construction works; Enough! O what a pain!
But, there was one thing,
Something was wrong with my city
The people had buttons for eyes!
Their friendly smiles turned into evil glares
The orange sky turned into silvery-grey buttons
Someone was singing, O, yes to me
Orange, red or blue
Whatever you choose
The buttons are such a beauty!
They threatened me
Oh, yes we didEvil Laugh
To sow buttons into my eyes!
I had to escape
From this dreadful nightmare
But you just couldn't wake up
Running away was forbidden!
Ring, Ring, Ring!
Holy Cheese!
Mum was shaking me awake
Finally it's over.

tripping, tipping over iron railing:

woosh
          
caught by my tail

A fox sweeps through the pool of light cast from the kitchen window
A soft woosh following the empty air

The trees are telling the sleeping birds secrets that the birds will never keep

The floodlight on the neighbors garage flickers nonchalantly
Wayward branches waking it

A car drives up the street, motor mumbling complaints about the cold
The driver holding a cigarette between *******

The streetlamp shivers in the stiff breeze
Light swaying over the ice-tarnished pavement

A stray cat tumbles across the driveway, swift feet tripping sensors
The floodlight comes on

And the house is sleeping
Groaning and shifting and snoring and sighing

The floodlight flickers then clicks off

The best silence is the woosh
of wind through trees
on murky nights

Today, let's do a 10 minute meditation
To help keep you in your present situation
To focus on the now, and ease your mind
Now keep calm, let's see what you find

Sit up straight, that's the first step
Then close your eyes, take deep breaths
Release the tension, let go of it all
Feel the calm, and heed my call

Find a focus point, I prefer my breath
But if you wish, focus on your chest
Notice the rise upon inhalation
Let it out, keep your concentration

To help stay grounded, here's a mantra for you
"The future can wait, the present is your view"
Repeat in your head, don't pause or quiver
To help even more, here are sounds of a river

"Woosh woosh woosh, glug glug glug"
No that's not my voice, are you on drugs?—𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎
What was that you ask? That's the sound of my gong
It reminds you to focus, is that so wrong?

Now just stay quiet
It's almost the end
Just sssssshhhhhhhhhhhh
And when you're ready,















OPEN YOUR EYES
OPEN THEM NOW
LOOK AT ALL THE PAIN
THERE IS ONLY SUFFERING

YOUR PARENTS HAVE LEFT YOU
THERE IS STILL NO MILK
YOUR MONEY IS GONE
THE ROOM IS ON FIRE

HATRED IS EVERYWHERE
EVERYONE IS RACIST
EVEN THE ELEPHANTS
THAT WOULD BE THE CASE IF THE ELEPHANTS WEREN'T DEAD

ALL BABIES HAVE TERMINAL CANCER
THE TREES ARE CUTTING THEMSELVES
THE WALLS ARE CAVING IN
YOU HAVE AN ORAL PRESENTATION DUE TODAY







alright, that's the end, thanks for listening
have a lovely day

Out through his window,
Woosh through his little town,
crash through the forrest,
dance across the river,
dive into the ocean,
up the highest mountain,
burst through the clouds,
jump off the tip,
and soaring, flipping, bounding into the sky
he went not long ago

His shackles unchained,
he wasted no time zooming out of here

He did what he came to do,
now he was free-
free to jump and spin and dance and twirl and somersault
in all kinds of amazing shades of blues and yellows

I'll never forget watching him go,
feeling his overwhelming joy,
and my overwhelming grief
come cascading down on me all at once.

All at once the sky became amazingly bluer and brighter,
and my world grew cold as it began to rain.

Woosh!
It happened so fast
Skiing down the mountain
This run was our last

Ouch!
I feel a flood of gut wrenching pain
And a tingly feeling
Like electric shocks in my veins

Beep!
The sound of the car's horn
Blasts into my ear
My head hurt so much I could've sworn

Ahh!
My scream blasts eardrums
Tears stream down my face
As I stare at my mum

Then suddenly I feel nothing
Not even a poke
No more tingling
Then I awoke