Search This Blog

FROM THE MULTI-POLAR MIND OF A RECOVERING EX-USER

not poetry, not purposeful, not pretending









...

Monday, 15 October 2012

The Fractal Person

No force can ever shut this voice up, nor the energy which generates both action and interaction, because it vibrates up from the void of the Fractal Person at the centre of the Fractured Maze - just beyond the fragmented bridge to the Nowhere Point. There are no egoes here: for it is multi-dimensional, an infinity of eternities, an eternity of infinities. The here-and-now returns to the primal psychedelic singularity, the Dream of the Machine Elf. Point-Circumference = Quality, naturally. Thank you for popping in and out of existence. Be Seeing You.

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Epikottle the Machine Elf

Living in a city Rutzel, how brave, how foolish, how termite-like. Are you a human or a virus? Right, straight, listen: Families and Friends: All that, yeah I get it. But the community, the people who live together, do they want quality and true joy in their lives, or live in the rat race and chase the dollar? What else can you do? Do you ever walk down a busy street or go on public transport, and you see all these people, especially in the rush hour, bodies squashed together but trying above all else to avoid eye contact? Well, I turn your third eye on, as arranged, to assist you in the relevant situations, but listen closer, don’t just look. Yes you look into their eyes, don’t you, and all you see bubbling on the mind-roof of so many people is unsatisfied desires, distorted memories, future-anxiety, fear of aging and death, and envy of the rich and famous. What happened to Quality and Grace and Joy, you are not machines: be Children again: feel, play - stop thinking so much. I mean, Rutzel, did some weird-looking blue guys with a spaceship drop you off here about half a century ago, or do you still believe this is really YOUR FUCKING PLANET!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Saturday, 4 August 2012

Song-Poems

I prefer poems that rhyme, I guess that is what makes them songs; And I also prefer poems which have crystal-clear drum-like rhythms Where the words don't fall awkwardly over each other, and stuff. Yeah

Friday, 1 June 2012

Cage

been sinking so fast I just passed a stone, been hurting so much my laugh killed a moan, and though I am nought I now have a throne, not something I sought just a cage of my own

Friday, 16 March 2012

Primal

Blood and fire
Earth and skin
Bone and ashes
Out is in

Day is broken
Moon to Sun
All are fallen
It is done

-followed by my beating drum
Sounding out what is to come
To live and die on this cold day
To fade from colour into gray

Love or loss
Slave or boss
Snarling snouts
Growling shouts
Teeth in flesh
Moments mesh
Bleeding eyes
Swarm of flies
No more words
Gurgling cries
End of battle
Come death rattle

Wednesday, 14 March 2012

Maze

I was born in a maze
Spent my life running round the maze
Found some places to rest and to raise
Found some spaces to be best and to blaze

Now I’ve found the centre of the maze
Where the grand orchestra plays
And where I get my prize for these days
Here lies the entrance to the maze

Sunday, 11 March 2012

Postscript

something
i need something
something sweeter than love
to take these dreams away

someone
i need someone
someone with the power
to make this life a way

because the moon stares from the sky
and can hear our every lie
and so it's time to leave this place
you've seen it written on my face
please put these tired words to bed
and kiss goodnight my empty head

somewhere
i'm going somewhere
somewhere with the power
for night to follow day

Friday, 9 December 2011

Already know

Death hangs ahead of me
Like some grisly crow
Waiting for the end of the show
Stating what we all already know

Death stinks of rotten flesh
Cries like a strangled bird
Never going to say a single word
Stating what we all already know

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Living the Lie

Life’s a gas
She shows you shots of heaven
So you know how well gods shine
Then she kicks you up the arse
And tells you your love is a crime
That your life amounts to nothing but a foolish fucking farce

Life’s a grass
It grows so green and shiny
That we think that it’s our path
When secretly it’s slimy
And it’s dark and full of wrath
And doesn’t care if we are pushed to cry or pulled to fucking laugh

Life’s a mess
It shows the flowers blooming
But hides the shit behind the Sun
And hopes the blaze will gloom the glow
When the pain has always been the main scene of the show
So be clear it fucking knows there’s only one way this can go

Life’s a cheat
He tells his story palms up like he never knew the price
And slips across the sad parts
Like a skater rides the ice
And while the great scenes hug the spotlight’s find and seek
The lie is that you’ll hear some fucking truthful voices speak

Monday, 3 October 2011

Not Relevant

This don't work
Such and so
I won't lurk
I'll just go.

No more hope
So be kind
Erase tape
Full rewind

No Title

Black holes
Anti-matter
Dark thoughts
Blood splatter

Broken homes
Nothing happens
Dark days
Mirror blackens

Burnt bones
Change in matter
Dark world
Gone flatter

Friday, 16 September 2011

Always

How many letters make up that old word 'hell'?
Can you count them as they whirl round in that place beyond what's gone?
Can you feel that sense of falling, going to fall, or having fell?
So you want to know the answer? Then don't count - its always one.

So we're left with just this question: which letter produces 'hell'?
Did you get to it already, has it rung your inner bell?
For those who cannot count or do not care to question why,
Hell - singular or plural - always was and will be: I.


That was the final verse, so what the fuck is happening here?
You've over-shot the end, the stop, passed into empty space.
So for some light relief I've made this one-liner appear:
The zero met the eight and said 'Give me your belt, my dear'.

Friday, 9 September 2011

Just Realized

Just realized why I never look too far ahead
Why the future seems a dark place in my mind
It’s because if I look ahead I will see that what I only fear now
Is actually waiting for me like a predator set to pounce
And that’s not another weight I would like to carry round with me just yet
So I’m hiding in the moment, like a sailor lost at sea

Just realized why I never look too far back
Why the past seems a dead place in my mind
It’s because if I look back I will see what I’ve taken so long to forget
That those things that happened were real and really lessened me
And that’s not another wound I would like to fester or heal right now
So I’m hiding in the moment, like a slave that got set free

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Fuck it all

Fate, the ugly bitch and bastard,
Hides behind the cloak of destiny,
While privately in glee from garmonbozia
Boasts their hands did alter things once free.

Free will, the hoped-for god of intellectuals;
Causality, the god of science and its sons -
Be still, these gods are false like all those worshipped shitbags,
Quality was sacrificed for this joke of mine:
A broken sign deliberately bereft of rhyme.

Thursday, 25 August 2011

This or That or Which

And this is the mouth
Which told the lie
That burst from the ground
And scorched the sky

So killing the child
Which crawled out of the womb
That got fucked up the arse
By the man in the moon

And this is the face
Which forced the smile
That extended the walk
An additional mile

And here is the pen
Which wrote the tale
That the man in the maze
Had strayed from the trail

And this is the end
Which we knew was ahead
That stops all the words
Spewing out of my head

Friday, 19 August 2011

Bipolar Blues

The middle is a mystery
It's somewhere I've not been
It's not at either end of me
It's some place in-between.

The middle is a default zone
It's where most people are
It's where the soul feels most at home
From here, it's very far.

Thursday, 30 June 2011

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Alien Lament

Orwell's losing, Huxley's winning,
Folk consume 'till their heads are spinning,
Our 'Brave New World' trumps '1984',
The twenty-first century is a chrono-whore.

Accumulation of maximum money
Ranks much higher than what's good or funny,
Right or wrong's now not so absolute,
So if you pay your way you can shit or shoot.

The dollar-sign is our species symbol,
From our genetic code to our frenetic sins,
While our other values wouldn't fill a thimble
And just protect us from any financial pins.

So on your First Contact with us on Earth,
Aliens, listen up, for what it's worth:
Whatever wisdom you kindly offer
Will become another coin in the human coffer,
So get your noble visit over fast as poss
Then teleport like hell, or make First Loss.

Monday, 27 June 2011

The Secret

The Secret is much more than just a thing that you can’t say
It’s a burden and a freedom, and a jagged broken link
The Secret is so special that it can’t be washed away
It’s a critical deception, so much more than you might think.

The Secret can be kept by more than kings, liars and fools
You don’t need a plan or goal, or any special kind of tools
It eats into your soul, and from the centre to the edge
The Secret is an everlasting fire-burning pledge.

But when you have the Secret and life lets you fall in love
The person who you love may want to share the Secret too
But you know from deep inside and from those values high above
That you must shield them at all costs from what this wry Secret can do.

Friday, 24 June 2011

Falling

A fractal fate, an open gate,
A falling wall, a lifted weight,
A dawn portrait of quality,
An undrawn map of destiny.

Shooting stars aren't meant to fall,
They sing of light and zoom and call,
They only die inside their dreams
Of people doomed by hapless schemes.

A portal hums and opens up,
A mortal swears on golden cup,
Now I can through full-moonery
Uncloak a deeper you and me.

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Yeah yeah yeah

I could write top pop songs
That go "boom boom boom boom
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah"
Say things like: "My bedroom's
For just you only girl
And when I call your phone
You make me hot and moan
I'll buy you lots of bling
And you can kiss my ring".

But I hate most pop songs
Don't want big hits or gongs
Or tussles with King Kongs
So all those dumb cliches
"Are yours babe" - so I says
That those who crave this pap
Their brains will turn to crap
And if all rights turn wrongs
I still won't write pop songs.

Thursday, 16 June 2011

Mandala

Make me one with everything
Asked the Buddhist of the vendor,
Nothingness is what we sing
Dreamt the bird so small and tender,
All is one and one is all,
Liminal we stand or fall
And so nirvana render.

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

Double Agent

By accepting the validity of both love and anger
I am patently at peace with my dark doppelganger
You have to know that you’re dealing with a double agent
To find the good in this, to reach the ultimate reagent.

It’s not what I’m called that should define what I am
Instead it’s what I am that should define what I’m called
It’s not where you’ve been that should determine who you are
It’s where you’re going next which lets emerge your inner R.

By swapping parallel worlds with our regular reality
I know that we will reach a final chemical singularity
So when I find myself entangled in a strange strong resistance
I always think of Einstein’s words: its spooky action at a distance.

Tuesday, 14 June 2011

Means End

Does the end justify the means?
Or do the means justify the end?
Well, the means don't justify the means,
And the end's just justified, it seems.

Does the word justify the thought?
Or does the thought justify the word?
Well: thought can fly solo if its hurled
While the word’s justified by unjust world.

Sunday, 12 June 2011

Cloud

Kept secrets of the past, denied
That was me, my brains were fried;
Faces merge within the crowd
That one’s me, up on the cloud.

Your face rings bells, were you my lover?
Or is that something I’ll discover?
This place feels strange, like déjà vu
Or is that stuff I’ve yet to do?

I don’t hide things, but they do get lost,
I don’t buy rings, but still pay the cost;
This place is mine, you’ll find me here
Within walls of love built from bricks of fear.

Whenever I’m backed into a corner
I always lie, it’s the way I mourn; their
Faces blur, smudge into cloud,
I stand here still, these words endowed.

Secrets of the past are well worth losing,
Makes it look like our actions were on-the-spot choosing,
When echoes of the future are what we’re holding,
When what’s going on is really fate unfolding.