Thursday, 27 September 2007

My Goddess Moon

My beautiful lover the moon
Is my Goddess
Framed by a pallid sky
She draws me into the cold of night
My gaze upon her argent allure is brief
I am shamed by her piercing stare.
It looks straight through my skin.
She leaves moon sized scars of moonlight
Patterns repeated in my moonmind's eye.

Sunday, 23 September 2007

Raise The Nation's Children.

If you have a problem
You know that it shows
Don't tell me your problem
I don't really want to know
Carry your problem
'Til you break down to your knees
And beg the world you're living in
For pity and forgiveness
Mercy, mercy help you out
You have the shoulder the world cries on
You have raised the nation's children
And fought all of the wars
Now it's time to rest
Forget about the cause you believe in.

Your back is unbroken
Your heart beats fast and strong
There're voices crying inside your head
And they cry loud and woefully long
They cry from the cauldron
Of messages left unsaid
They fill the space between in and out
And bleed from the halo circling your head.


"I have of late- but wherefore I know not- lost all my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises; and, indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this mighty o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire; why it appears no other thing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a God! The beauty of the world, paragon of animals; and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, no, nor women neither, nor women neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so."

Act II Scene II

Wednesday, 19 September 2007

My Glittering Career.

I was going to write a piece about how moving to a new job today has made my work life not only more bearable, but downright exciting. I'm afraid that upon the evidence of my first day, that post will never be forthcoming. I've been disappointed many times in my life, but today I received a stark reminder of how easy it is to try something slightly different to further your life just a tad, and feel it really may have been a total waste of time.
So, without further ado, the positive aspects are as follows;

1 At least I tried, though not too hard.

2 My new working buddies are nice enough people, and one of them may even be able to teach me how swear in Russian since he hails from Latvia and that's his first language. This should come in handy when England lose to them (Russia)in the Euro cup qualifier on the plastic pitch.

3 The day seemed to go quite quickly because there wasn't a moment to rest.

4 All the food there is healthy, so should I choose to eat any of it, I may lose a few pounds or enjoy the flavour. This is an improvement on the last job which mainly sold chips to drongoes.

5 Having a shite working environment gives one the kick up the arse one may need to get a real job that pays enough to afford to eat in the type of establishment one currently works.

6 It made me realise that moaning about things just eventually leads full circle back to the fact that I live in the Western world with what's left of a welfare state so I only have to work part time in order to have a few of the basics in life that humans should globally have. There're one fuck of a lot of people out there on this planet who do not have those basics and never will, and they still have to work very hard indeed to afford what they do have.

Aaaaaaaand here are the downsides;

1 Thought of the day "If I have to wash one more fucking plate whilst stood on my aching feet in the forgotten corner of some sweaty striplit rabbithole up to my elbows in greasy lukewarm water whilst being forced to endure the aural soul destruction that is radio fucking one with it's smarmy fucking D.J.s playing music, 75% of which is aimed at emotionally retarded 14 year olds, arresting the extension of my personal growth boundaries with all the resilience usually associated of 16 foot thick reinforced concrete wall when under attack from a tooth pick, then I will seize power forthwith using violence and a lack of fairness to my fellow man that would make Robert Mugabe wince, crushing the system which has put me in a situation I find depressing enough to actually want an innocent passer by to toot their car horn at me whilst I'm on my bike so I can forcibly decapitate them and feed their grey matter to the nearest fat bastard fucking disease-ridden pigeon walking wobbly headed past the scene."

2 There's no number 2 because number 1 was so all encompassing in it's headfuckyness, it took me all day til I was home, washed, fed, and had tucked my son into his bed before I could really think past it.

So there!

I don't feel any better for that rant. Neither has it secured me an interview for a new position as an overpaid under worked member of society. It really is nobody's fault but mine that I'm in this predicament. Nobody else will remove me from it, it's all down to me. That's a bit depressing, because I have a tremendous aptitude for apathy an even utter laziness.

Where is my metaphoric knight in shining armour.

Perhaps their jobs were cut as part of a necessary downsizing of metaphorical heroes due to unforeseen financial instability. Maybe they all have jobs like mine now and are currently decrying them in front of a computer.

Oh well, maybe if I play my cards right, I could move on and one of them could have my job.


Kitchen Pig Has Left The Building!

A job is a job, it's been said. There is a singular straight philosophy to that which is hard to argue against. However, like all aspects of human life, once past the simplistic, the complex begins. Today, I have stopped working at the place I have worked for almost three years. It was not a first choice to begin working there to start with. My last job ended with wages owed. There was anger and disappointment. I needed another one fast, and as is often the case, haste produces a certain lack of choice, a removal of the type of logic we would all use if given the time to use it.

I wonder what next week holds in store for me.

Thursday, 13 September 2007


These are a few images of a few flowers I grew in my garden this year.
The thing about growing stuff is that nobody has ever grown those molecules and atoms and all that tiny stuff in exactly that way before. Sure, millions of people have grown billions of plants but not these plants. These are MY PLANTS. I GREW THEM. They belong to me in a way that they do not belong to anybody else. By a similar token, they do not belong to anybody because, though I helped them burst into life by nurturing them with water etc, they grew themselves really. It's not like I had to go out there and tell them which way the sun is or how to suck up nutrients from the soil. I reckon they had that bit covered pretty well themselves.

And so this beautiful lily

and it's white friends and the gladiolus above have brought colour and pulchritude into my space without any noticable effort on their part. I may be doing them a diservice. It may be incredibly hard to grow if you're a plant, who knows, except of course Prince Charles who has been listening to them for years.
This isn't Prince Charles, not even on a bad day. This is actually a sky monster who flew over my garden to have a look at it because it was so gorgeous.

It popped in for a chat as well. Of course, like all monsters it couldn't shut up once it got onto the subject of it's own attempts at cultivating roses for various village fayres to which it flies nationwide. I wish it would come back, I lent it my spare planting trowel. Don't suppose I'll ever see that again.

Wednesday, 12 September 2007

Where's The Space

Melt with the sound
Feel my way round
I'm lost but I've found
There are many ways up
And as many ways down
Where's the ground?
Where's the ground?
Where's the ground?
Where's the ground?

Gathering pace
Stealing your face
I'm taking your place
And I'll leave with no trace
Yes I'll leave with no trace
Where's the space?
Where's the space?
Where's the space?
Where's the space?

I can remember
A time in the future
When a truer way of being wasn't so far forward.
Got a real sort of feel
To the background confusion.
Cross the devide to the dangerous side
I can push out the boat
Take my world by the throat
And let it breathe all it's powers for free.
Having got to the part
Of my own pounding heart
Which will feed the emotional animal I call me.

It's been scattered through my life.
An awkward feeling that I cannot understand.
Has it happened in your life?
An awkward feeling that you cannot understand?

Where's the sound?
Where's the place?
Where's the ground?
Where's the space?


How wrong I am
To think a smile could be overpriced
It's almost free.
I took the scam
Shut off where anyone else
Could not see through to me.
I saw the game
As just surviving the next attack
It helped to be
One step behind
Just kinda drifting around the pack
Observing one rule
Watch your back!

Run away from your problems
They'll catch you you'll see
And wherever they find you
They'll haunt you.
Control and envelop you
'Til they
Break your back.

I'm checking in
To some emotional halfway house
Of my design.
I'm checking out
The possibilities from the chaos
That is my mind.
Is it a fact
That cornered animals always fight
Right to the last
And if I am
The beast inside of me
It's the only course of action
Just fight back.

Run away from your problems
They'll catch you you'll see
And wherever they find you
They'll haunt you
Control and envelop you
'Til they
Break your back

As it transpires
I am the curtain that hides my own
Do I require
Eyes in the back of my head to see
What I might see
To know the task
Is not to hide in the shadows cast
By my own fear
Fear of fear itself
Because therein lies a madness
Madness that I know can
Break my back.

A Rock and A Hard Place

Round peg, square hole
Made to measure for a life on the dole.
Not the part you wanted, why turn up for the audition?
Your other self sees you fall to the ground
Glassy eyes buried in a deepening frown
In a play with a terrible script
Grabbed by the gaze that has all of us gripped.

That other self can't see through to your head and your heart
That's what you get when they say go
And even if you get the drift
You must get out and
Steal the show.

I can lie when it seems
It get me closer to a realised dream.
But the nightmares might be coming back to frighten me. (HA ha ha, he he he)
And the night time thoughts are the worst,
Tear me apart with the boredom and thirst
Stare at the wall, push ideas from my being
It's not another life, it's just another way of seeing.

The lost ideas that have escaped from my head and my heart.
Nobody knows where they all g-g-g-go.
Maybe they hide away inside
And come around to
Rewrite the show.

It's been a while since lost ideas I'd like to
Come my way
Have sprung into my head and given me the
Strength to say
I live , I breathe, I love, I feel. I have the
Right to claim
A bright idea with second sight when it's so
Painfully plain.

It's obvious I'll fall apart if every
Piece of crap
Replaces opportunities that fall in-
-To my lap
Give too much credence to the bullshit factor
What's the crack.?
Right now the moment is upon me get them
Off my back.

It ain't right if I try
To take an image from another mind's eye
Then change it round and warp it in my own peculiar fashion
Cos that just makes me bitter and choked
My own worst enemy right at my throat
Reminds me that I can be right for this play
As long as I don't let the bullshit get in the way

Of lost ideas that have escaped from my head and my heart
Now that I know where they all go.

Tuesday, 11 September 2007


In front of my face I see a story unfold
And then behind me, I see the hopes and they hold
Dearer. But I listened to tales
Of a different nature, and that's where I failed.
Not that I'm saying I never began
To be the male part of that woman/man
Experience, just soaking it up
Til my ego overflowed like a cup
Underwater. Well that is my sign.
Jumping about to the rhythm or rhyme
Or the 'thud, thud ,thud' that's a troubled head
Shoulda been paying attention to my heart instead.
But not me, I ain't done enough yet
Can't put a time on commitment or set
An agenda for life and it's trials.
Then it's 'bye-bye' There go the smiles.

Sink to the ground, bit by bit
See it swallow me up just a deep, deep,
Deeper despair. The interior
Lost self esteem makes you feel so inferior.
Sour grapes and delusions of grandeur
Don't tell people, so why should they understand ya
Don't give in, you know you've gotta relate
You've gotta listen, gotta learn
To put it all on a plate.
Then it's back to the heart where emotion is born
Temporary pain had sadly deformed.
And that negative/positive feeling had gone
But it's back now and I've got to hang on
To that love,
Ooh there's a buzz that goes with it hand in glove
Complex. Pure. Honest. Real.
Just touch, and you're beginning to feel.

In front of my face I see a life at it's start
Now I've got to be honest, put my hand on my heart
And say 'Look! It's a beautiful thing
That our temporal nature can help us all bring
Inner strength that can travel in waves
Pushing boundaries of personal growth to a stage
Where it weeps from your every pore
Get the picture, as pure as before
But it's changed,
Or have I? Or perhaps my perceptions have all rearranged
To a form only time can explain
Like the pleasure or pain
Which are simply devices we humans can use to find Love
Life and the buzz that goes with it, hand in glove.
Complex. Pure. Honest. Real. Just touch.


How do you do Mr. Nice Policeman
How do you do what you must think you must
With the people in down No. Ten
Their heads all turned in shame and pure disgust
Whose desperate measures have called on you
Your morals drowned in seas of spite
Your ideals sold for bloodstained gold
A force beyond the peoples' might

A day in devil's deeds begins
The gloom protectors draped in blue
A mist will shroud your naked sins
With words of fire I'll murder you.

Whose feet are sure on wicked means
In strong defence of hell's own ends
The day of your reckoning has yet to arrive
Your own survival now depends
On those who seek to save your soul
For what it's worth now you've stooped so low
To stamp on your rekindled hopes
By dealing out your wicked blow

And when the day is over soon
You'll sleep in brave innocence at night
Your poisoned offspring by your side
You'll kill them too, when the time is right.

The Hook

Here's the hook! It's a self made miracle.
Coming to you to break through your own manacle.
Cloud and clutter and pain and suffering
Once you're in no room for no guessing game.
Feels like fire in ice cold veins
It's your party are you glad you came?
Music pumping up and pushing in sideways
Forward movement, squeeze like icing
Hope the cake is all that you never had
Fresh as the last thought that you have ever had
Jumping the queue for the roller-coaster
Passing other people as you roll over.
Turn to smile at the passive faces
All like mine, we've just changed places
Bumping on a track without an ending
Quicker than thought, but more mind bending
Just for a moment you're upside-down
Giving you a feeling that you're part of a sound
Take a warning, gonna be a firestorm
Inside, gotta get it under control
You've got savage ideas with no understanding
Building a life on advice but no plan
Take heart, take part, make a start
You know that you can handle it.
How do I feel, it's a fantasy world
Buzzing around me putting fears in my soul
Didn't quite get what there was to be gathered
Grabbing at life, there there it's all better
Putting my heart out for all to be seen
Massive rush in just to prove I'm as green
And as young as I'd ever have feared
Check my horizons to see if they've cleared
But no, there's the clutter again
Dragging me down like the virus within
Us all, I could make myself cry
Mindbomb, boom! Still dunno why
The unacceptable has to be heard
The unacceptable feelings and words
I don't want to hear but they can't be ignored
Cos to get where I am I'd have done that before
This point, where I sit and I say
Things I might understand in a different way.


Lay awake in a darkened room
Did I speak out too soon?
Did I say what I said?
Got an idea in my brain
I'm the wrong side of insane
And I can't hold back my head.

Now I've been talkin' jive with Einstein
And me and him's got the future all sorted out.
Yeah, I've been talkin' jive with Einstein,
And now I know I'm left without no doubt

'Bout the ways of the mind
And the way that your mind
Kinda leaves my mind
Way behind
And I'm standing in line
Behind those I can't find.
Like good meets bad
And I shoulda had
A voice saying "Boy,
You're gonna go mad
If you're so sad
You just can't spot the signs"

Now the room looks like it's grown
And I'll sit here all alone
But that's just how it goes.
Well the penny is about to drop
When all the moving pieces stop
And the truth and lies will show.

Now I don't talk that much with Einstein
'Cos me and that guy just don't see eye to eye.
No I don't want to talk with Einstein
And watch my life just gently go floating by.

'Cos when the shit hits the fan
Then me and the man
Are gonna make sparks
Like only we can
And the world around us
Might just catch alight.
But 'till that time
I'm standing in line
Just waiting for things
To turn out fine
And hoping dreams come true
And they just might.

Wednesday, 5 September 2007

Glastonbury;The Last Rites

'Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood' Oh Flanders and Swann, how much fun would they have had with the phenomenon that is the 21st century mega music etc festival.

What can I say that hasn't been said by many after this year, and 2005 and all the other mud encrusted years down the line. It didn't ruin it, but FUCK ME SIDEWAYS, how much better is a music/arts/drugs/people/gathering/dance/everything festival when the sun is out. The photo here is proof that the sun did come out. This is it going down, a sunset on Solstice. I will always enjoy watching the sun setting.
I've had a couple of months to let all the memories fade into the kind of haze necessary to be my memories. Sort of confused, sort of tiny soundbites. They are like my dreams in that respect because I rarely remember my dreams in any massive detail. Shame because so few are nightmares of any genuine proportion. One nightmare though is where I'm in a field surrounded by people and everybody is wading through 6 inches of mud. Ah!

There is a human need it seems to say 'I was there' about many events. I've done it myself and am very glad I saw the poll tax riots, big festival stuff. I'm actually glad I heard Babyshambles because now I can categorically state the Pete Docherty is a thoroughly talentless cunt, which I would, with extraordinary venom, point out to him if he were in this room now. I wish now I'd been close enough to mud-chuck the twat off stage. In years to come, I may be happy that I listened to Bjork from a distance having suitably revitalized myself for Fat Boy Slim but disallowed myself from attending thanks to the appropriate 'byerk, byerk' sounds from my beautiful but puking girlfriend. I'm so very glad though that I was there watching the rediculous post-punk/still punk phenomenon that is Iggy Pop. I'm sure I'm not alone on that one.

It's still the big event on the calendar for many furry folk and kids and capitalistic opportunists. But evolution can turn the comely countenance that is bizarre free-form weirdness into the ugly physiognomy I have witnessed in part this time around.

I had plenty of laughs considering what piss miserable weather it was to be living in a tent. I saw a few bands through the usual wall of people taller than me, (which is virtually everybody) but if anybody ever says it's the same as previous decades, they lost the plot very badly in those previous decades and perhaps struggle to know what decade it is now. Sure, many things are the same. But it's all put together in an organised modern and leviathan package which flies in the face of the spontaneity and out of leftfield world which are it's roots.

I feel like a moaning old wanker just complaining that the world isn't what it used to be and desperate for somebody to give me the keys to the TARDIS so I can go back and witness those glory years again. But the thing is, I also know very well that I would find some of that boring as well. It's a sad part of my life that maybe I'm just not the kind of person to have done all the habitual and recreational drug stuff and still have the energy left to enjoy life for what it is on a minute by minute basis. I knew before I went that after an absence of 14 years that it was inevitable that I would compare the old days with the new. I tried not to, but it just kept throwing itself into my path like a suffragette in front of the king's horse. But I suppose that is the curse of any life. None of us get younger and we have no choice but to experience things and then compare them to things we have previously experienced. That is the essence of a life spent with eyes periodically wide open. There are alternatives, I don't think I'd prefer them.