Wednesday, 19 November 2008

I told me so!


I can write pretty country scenes if I want too, it's not all love poems and sampled gabble.

It occurs to me that I should try that more. No matter how much sampling things amuses me, I should try and actually write something someday.


Our land

Smells like dust
Catches my throat

Lonely as two
Lost in novelty

Runs out, in
Rolls in dirt

Dry, hard ground
Fake foreign land

Strange movie scene
Sermonising with me

Dog as director
It amuses me

Directing the soy
Dancing their dance

In this place
This, our land

Dog and me
Alone in fields

Nowhere to go
Nowhere to be

Time ignores us
A bubble moment

Dogs don’t believe
Time doesn’t exist

We just stand
In soy fields

We die soon

We die soon.

With mankind in general if we could.
Effects enchanted me vastly.

Depth of any considerable amount of mere glaciation,
Insistence on a westward prospecting trip before our radical shift
East Longitude 175o.

Seemed to be a greater task than had been expected,
Of two sorts
One or two cases of cleanly severed bone.
No wonder he ran back to the camp shouting.

We die soon.

Weed was seen.
Earthquake tremor the night before, the most considerable felt for some years

Do not often reproduce
it, track down the cult to its fountain-head,
excited and disturbed

Out of the earth, the black spirits of earth
or subtlety could elicit more in this direction.
No longer alive, they would never really die.

We die soon,

wholly into the charge
echoed above even the hill noises and the dogs barking on the night.

Devil’s hop yard
Is sacrificed at the proper time to certain heathen gods.
Element of furtiveness in the clouded brain which subtly transformed him from an object to a subject of fear

Slept poorly.
On he felt dimly that something ought to be done.
Others were ahead of him,
not of tri-dimensional earth.

We die soon

How to make plum jam

I heave neat
helms. Put
earthen wit,
hebetic ox,
and winch
up the bleary brew.

Nova yogis
barter oaks
as they cheerily die off.

Two wusses,
so cold…

They don’t notice as it breaks, and pours out the sticky jam all about them.

Monday, 10 November 2008


I didn't make it and I don't know who did, but I found it in the bowels of my laptop and remembered how much I liked it. Now you too may enjoy it. Hurray for MS Paint! (Click it to see it in a reasonable size)

Sunday, 9 November 2008


(L)un-Dun; it’s travelling away
(L)un-Dun is unravelling at a rate of knots like a ball falling down the stairs
(L)un-Dun is making you pay

But who cares

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllittle buildings

When they fly by, in their free scene

(Laugh and point children,
this is education)

(L)un-Dun is un-done is fun
fun for all the family
(bring the kids)

Tickets please

Berserker makes a friend

Squish krak krak KRAK

it smells salt
salt of the human core
core of salt sat deep come high

consider your wet core
your core of earth

white seeds break
upon ready land

seeds blossom shackles

Berserker makes a stand

Berserker stands
flesh against rain

eyes open
rain mixes
with tears

he is in but not of

he is an ash shoot

he is a fox pup

he is an old bear

he is a smooth rock

he is all these things and less

Berserker stands