Eclipse my life away at the zenith of its quintessant perfection.
Hurtling headlong into the black-hole foray of hounted-house echoes...splinter- shard snows of past subservience.
Steely silhouettes and sodden pirouettes of daydream dances and karmic trances.
Lose my thespian whiles in the sordid asphyxiation of romantic delusions and fairytale knights....each one prognosticating my tread-step alone down fate's free-fall. Deep, deep down.
Cry my way through life's lurid satire, 3-inch split wide grin eclipsing my face.
Tip toe my rapscallion jabs at consorting philistines and jehova's witnesses , from behind a safe miasma of tapestries.
Bellow my illogical gospel to their bloated logic, throat scraped shriek-raw.
Seek, seek, seek...
Speak for God's sake!
Of the absolution in imperfection.
Sway my durges on dreamy clouds of repressed consiousness.
My one and only saviour....
My one and only fight.
A telepathic soul
and stone-blind sight.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Am sordidly struggling. Floundering really... to find a finite balance between two morose words "ideas" and 'ideals".
What inane bridge must we cross to enter a realm where a "good idea" loses all significance unless it is supplanted with a hapless crusade, masquerading as an ideal?
When is it that a good thought needs dogmatic legitimacy to be valid?
More to the point WHY is it?
What inane bridge must we cross to enter a realm where a "good idea" loses all significance unless it is supplanted with a hapless crusade, masquerading as an ideal?
When is it that a good thought needs dogmatic legitimacy to be valid?
More to the point WHY is it?
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Blood Sport
I sits my life away on the sidelines of ‘em rings, jeering and cheering his every move, I see’s the past thirty years flicker us by, fuckin’ clown-riddle of jabs and jaunts. Faithful, did I worshipped him every moment. Every shimmy of his plexus, every damned curve of his fist, every flight shift of his toes. Now I see’s my life as his shadow, them Peter pan hokey’ poke reflections- all my win’s is been his, all my lose’s been his too, all his. Funny... he never asked for my racket, my gushin’ prayer’s, he never even spoken it. How easy it is for them God-men to forget us vapor, ‘us’ is small men. I is just his foil, his side-dish that he carries to all them shows. I is what them fancy folk’s calls his carriage.
All I am is the mouth to his poundin’ fist, none of ‘em gets it, me neither. There ain’t even a name for what I do, what I spent my life doin’. He be the leader they all worship and scream themselves silly over, and I is just one more chump who can’t run off him. He gives me a restin’ place in his shadow, and i rested there and i ain't a never stopped. That shadow is sheltered us both- but now its is all fadin’, even the darkness…and all we doin’ is float about in a vacuum. Today we is nothing but two black- old farts smutting in the past he is created and is I swimmin’ in.
He, now is the ‘fallen giant’, they all whisper’s and looks at his shakin’ bones, and all em “tch tch tch” aint’ worth a farthin’ shit to boss, he still says he is “prettier” than anything that walked this damn earth and that mean everything will work’ out. Them “ugly” don’t got nowhere to go, says boss. “Has been” they say, them sodder’s... “But there was a time when he could really knock ‘em down”, them shit-faced smurfs ain’t got no clue. So I is the self- appointed “black-boy” cheerleader, that dances behind his-self. I is who they never see’s, but they hears…oh they hears me al’ right, my bullshit bravado when boss was takin’ em hits, my lion roars when he creamed every sucker in the ring, I is belled his every fight he ever fought.
I is the one who nobody knows, who is lovin’ him most… I is who he makes me, when he’s jabbin’ em jerks- I is ‘Muhammad on the mountain’, when he falls it flat- I is Judas.
“Move em up on boss”
“You show that big-ugly ape, you the man”
“Buck up boss, you now gonna whoop the ‘ugly’ off-a him”
“You’s is a gonna bury him up deep, now boss-deep, deep, deep boss- six feet under deep”
I is spent all my time always a yellin’ and ramblin’. I has rided on his heart thumpin’, through his cage-bear breath, every drop of blood that a' falls, is me. I was born’d the day he was born’d- one of us inside the ring and one outside. And I died the day he died, again in the ring…the smack- crack of his knuckles, only I heard- and now we is both outside.
Today boss and I, we fumbles along the side-walks and some of them white- folk still sees him, but he’s a stopped lookin’ long time ago.
No more does we float like a butterfly, no longer does we sting like a bee.
Boss, he sits and laughs about them’ glory days- the prettiest one of em’ all he always calls his-self, “true boss, true that is” I says. Today we both sits in the same chair, he’s is a little older than I, he’s is a little weaker than I- but still I sits lower. I take out all them ol’ pictures and papers and string them pearls for him, I sing him all his songs, still I sing his songs…
When he cracks his knuckles I pipe… “Whoa boss, now don’cha scare me now, them rocks is gonna break walls , they is”
When he fries an egg I strut “Boss them eggs gots’ ta be them greatest eggs is ever been made”
When he stumbles over his cane to the bathroom I babble “Boss yous’ is still- a dancin’, them feet just aint a gonna stop, never”
When we is eating cake I pep him “Them black cake boss- “devil cake”, we’s a still eating them “devil cakes””
Folks call’d me his lap dog, they never sees how much more I is to boss. I is the slave, caught by his shadow, I is. I ask’d to be his man…and boss never did say them “no’s” to me. His past is mine, he's a given it to me: I’ been in his body and fought his fights- all of them is my fight’s too, His right hook, his left hook …all is my damn punches.
Them tiny scores of his life I is kept and I is keepin', he never needed them angel scribes to hold out them’ lists to the Lord, all I ever did was write them damned lists. Stupid ass’ money-men today say it’s all a “blood sport”! All humanitarian shit, they sass us with. None of ‘em had no problem sending them little white boys to kill with ‘em guns, they stupid shit’s thinks metal ain’t blood.
Boss he always says that boxing ain’t no “blood sport”- its what’s is makin’ us human. He say’s we all is’ come into the world fists locked, screaming for a fight. He’s a just fought his one, without all ‘em lies. Without all ‘em “Big’ people tellin’ him how to jab and bounce…He’s is fought em’ all in plain sight to his time.
He’s is fought ‘em fair and he’s is fought ‘em straight…
And he's is still a' fightin'...
and so I is still a fightin' .
All I am is the mouth to his poundin’ fist, none of ‘em gets it, me neither. There ain’t even a name for what I do, what I spent my life doin’. He be the leader they all worship and scream themselves silly over, and I is just one more chump who can’t run off him. He gives me a restin’ place in his shadow, and i rested there and i ain't a never stopped. That shadow is sheltered us both- but now its is all fadin’, even the darkness…and all we doin’ is float about in a vacuum. Today we is nothing but two black- old farts smutting in the past he is created and is I swimmin’ in.
He, now is the ‘fallen giant’, they all whisper’s and looks at his shakin’ bones, and all em “tch tch tch” aint’ worth a farthin’ shit to boss, he still says he is “prettier” than anything that walked this damn earth and that mean everything will work’ out. Them “ugly” don’t got nowhere to go, says boss. “Has been” they say, them sodder’s... “But there was a time when he could really knock ‘em down”, them shit-faced smurfs ain’t got no clue. So I is the self- appointed “black-boy” cheerleader, that dances behind his-self. I is who they never see’s, but they hears…oh they hears me al’ right, my bullshit bravado when boss was takin’ em hits, my lion roars when he creamed every sucker in the ring, I is belled his every fight he ever fought.
I is the one who nobody knows, who is lovin’ him most… I is who he makes me, when he’s jabbin’ em jerks- I is ‘Muhammad on the mountain’, when he falls it flat- I is Judas.
“Move em up on boss”
“You show that big-ugly ape, you the man”
“Buck up boss, you now gonna whoop the ‘ugly’ off-a him”
“You’s is a gonna bury him up deep, now boss-deep, deep, deep boss- six feet under deep”
I is spent all my time always a yellin’ and ramblin’. I has rided on his heart thumpin’, through his cage-bear breath, every drop of blood that a' falls, is me. I was born’d the day he was born’d- one of us inside the ring and one outside. And I died the day he died, again in the ring…the smack- crack of his knuckles, only I heard- and now we is both outside.
Today boss and I, we fumbles along the side-walks and some of them white- folk still sees him, but he’s a stopped lookin’ long time ago.
No more does we float like a butterfly, no longer does we sting like a bee.
Boss, he sits and laughs about them’ glory days- the prettiest one of em’ all he always calls his-self, “true boss, true that is” I says. Today we both sits in the same chair, he’s is a little older than I, he’s is a little weaker than I- but still I sits lower. I take out all them ol’ pictures and papers and string them pearls for him, I sing him all his songs, still I sing his songs…
When he cracks his knuckles I pipe… “Whoa boss, now don’cha scare me now, them rocks is gonna break walls , they is”
When he fries an egg I strut “Boss them eggs gots’ ta be them greatest eggs is ever been made”
When he stumbles over his cane to the bathroom I babble “Boss yous’ is still- a dancin’, them feet just aint a gonna stop, never”
When we is eating cake I pep him “Them black cake boss- “devil cake”, we’s a still eating them “devil cakes””
Folks call’d me his lap dog, they never sees how much more I is to boss. I is the slave, caught by his shadow, I is. I ask’d to be his man…and boss never did say them “no’s” to me. His past is mine, he's a given it to me: I’ been in his body and fought his fights- all of them is my fight’s too, His right hook, his left hook …all is my damn punches.
Them tiny scores of his life I is kept and I is keepin', he never needed them angel scribes to hold out them’ lists to the Lord, all I ever did was write them damned lists. Stupid ass’ money-men today say it’s all a “blood sport”! All humanitarian shit, they sass us with. None of ‘em had no problem sending them little white boys to kill with ‘em guns, they stupid shit’s thinks metal ain’t blood.
Boss he always says that boxing ain’t no “blood sport”- its what’s is makin’ us human. He say’s we all is’ come into the world fists locked, screaming for a fight. He’s a just fought his one, without all ‘em lies. Without all ‘em “Big’ people tellin’ him how to jab and bounce…He’s is fought em’ all in plain sight to his time.
He’s is fought ‘em fair and he’s is fought ‘em straight…
And he's is still a' fightin'...
and so I is still a fightin' .
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Lucifer’s letter to the Lord
8th January 2006,
Well... it seems we have now reached an impasse , yet again, my Dear (I always get frazzled at this point , excuse the quasi-offensive endearment)... let us just say my "respected" nemesis and creator- it shall work, as it has in the past.
I must acknowledge...you have made your point. Clearly I could not help but observe your nocuous attempts to get their attention, yet I have to say (pardon the rapscallion jab) but you are losing your touch, my friend. No subtlety ...absolutely none at all. They must have really done something this time, or is it me again? or are you just getting desperate?
The past few years, none can really refute, not even you- have proven to be in my favor...since I assume we are still keeping score. The perpetual nomenclature of "one-ups" chalks up to me, I believe. Gabriel so much as outright admitted it to my face. We both had a fair musing on the irony that I somehow manage to start such deliciously capricious feuds, completely in "your" name, we both know I have my gifts, you always said I was "rather" good with irony. However I can only assume by your most recent actions that you mean to teach them a lesson, put them in their place, per se.
I confess I am rather confounded, I really would have thought even YOU would have learned your lesson by now. They never 'do' get your subtext, if it was hard for Abraham, trust me 'they' wont get it, they hardly even listen to anything...He sat listening "only" for you! I bet you miss that, even though your stubborn self wont admit it! However I must bow down on this, the spectacles have been grand- as usual, mammoth was always a good look on you. Hurricane- followed by tornado's capped off with earthquakes...finally playing, are we? Granted you always manage to "one-up" me on "carthage" when the gloves really come off, but then again it isn’t as if I've disputed the point- your prerogative, I figure.
However I am writing simply to confirm something, how much longer are we to wait on this? I thought you had already decided to close-up shop? I’m thinking since I haven’t been informed otherwise- that the dates are still set. So I ask, what is all this then? going out with guns blazing, or are you still hoping for one last moment of enlightenment on their behalf...sigh, your faith in them never ceases to amaze me! But I suppose we both need to get going, then. As for your "let's stay out of this now, give them space, "sit-back-so" diatribe", I don’t think you ought to be surprised to find that I fear I cannot go along with you on that one. Call it my "Hippocratic Oath", I fully acknowledge I need to work twice as hard as you do, so call it my grudge against divine superiority, if you will. Just call it, ok?
I do have one request though..."do" stop with all the inducted theatrics, we both agree this is "your" epoch, I don’t need the fireworks to prove it... I hear you, loud and clear sensei. We both know you have dibs on the "special effects" conundrum, and it’s disconcerting to see you play my game. No really, it is! I grant you, I did not see it coming, you've been so chilled out for so long.
As an added afterthought I was wondering if the whole "women/ feminist" thing is going to come into play in the finale... or do you choose not to disclose? See …I do need to work harder, since you invent the rules, breaking them always requires an added ingenuity on my part. No worries, am FINALLY getting used to your wiles.
Btw (do you know they're actually "formally" using the abbreviated versions now? of course, you know! but its still worth mention...whatever you say, I still think the internet worked more in my favor than yours- btw...HA!) you must catch "Day after tomorrow" I had oodles of fun seeing how 'they' thought it would fall "out" of place, you might get some new ideas, although come to think of it you already inspired those ones...for the record, I’ve seen you do better.
Catch you at the finish line.
PS: wont be able to make it to the next meeting, I’m kind of working on a clock, seeing as you don’t work with "time" I know you'll excuse me on this. Plus we always end up arguing anyway and it’s getting redundant, even I get bored now...we need to spice it up, what say you?
xoxoxoxo (how trite of me)
signed
Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan
Still reigning ...Prince of Darkness
Well... it seems we have now reached an impasse , yet again, my Dear (I always get frazzled at this point , excuse the quasi-offensive endearment)... let us just say my "respected" nemesis and creator- it shall work, as it has in the past.
I must acknowledge...you have made your point. Clearly I could not help but observe your nocuous attempts to get their attention, yet I have to say (pardon the rapscallion jab) but you are losing your touch, my friend. No subtlety ...absolutely none at all. They must have really done something this time, or is it me again? or are you just getting desperate?
The past few years, none can really refute, not even you- have proven to be in my favor...since I assume we are still keeping score. The perpetual nomenclature of "one-ups" chalks up to me, I believe. Gabriel so much as outright admitted it to my face. We both had a fair musing on the irony that I somehow manage to start such deliciously capricious feuds, completely in "your" name, we both know I have my gifts, you always said I was "rather" good with irony. However I can only assume by your most recent actions that you mean to teach them a lesson, put them in their place, per se.
I confess I am rather confounded, I really would have thought even YOU would have learned your lesson by now. They never 'do' get your subtext, if it was hard for Abraham, trust me 'they' wont get it, they hardly even listen to anything...He sat listening "only" for you! I bet you miss that, even though your stubborn self wont admit it! However I must bow down on this, the spectacles have been grand- as usual, mammoth was always a good look on you. Hurricane- followed by tornado's capped off with earthquakes...finally playing, are we? Granted you always manage to "one-up" me on "carthage" when the gloves really come off, but then again it isn’t as if I've disputed the point- your prerogative, I figure.
However I am writing simply to confirm something, how much longer are we to wait on this? I thought you had already decided to close-up shop? I’m thinking since I haven’t been informed otherwise- that the dates are still set. So I ask, what is all this then? going out with guns blazing, or are you still hoping for one last moment of enlightenment on their behalf...sigh, your faith in them never ceases to amaze me! But I suppose we both need to get going, then. As for your "let's stay out of this now, give them space, "sit-back-so" diatribe", I don’t think you ought to be surprised to find that I fear I cannot go along with you on that one. Call it my "Hippocratic Oath", I fully acknowledge I need to work twice as hard as you do, so call it my grudge against divine superiority, if you will. Just call it, ok?
I do have one request though..."do" stop with all the inducted theatrics, we both agree this is "your" epoch, I don’t need the fireworks to prove it... I hear you, loud and clear sensei. We both know you have dibs on the "special effects" conundrum, and it’s disconcerting to see you play my game. No really, it is! I grant you, I did not see it coming, you've been so chilled out for so long.
As an added afterthought I was wondering if the whole "women/ feminist" thing is going to come into play in the finale... or do you choose not to disclose? See …I do need to work harder, since you invent the rules, breaking them always requires an added ingenuity on my part. No worries, am FINALLY getting used to your wiles.
Btw (do you know they're actually "formally" using the abbreviated versions now? of course, you know! but its still worth mention...whatever you say, I still think the internet worked more in my favor than yours- btw...HA!) you must catch "Day after tomorrow" I had oodles of fun seeing how 'they' thought it would fall "out" of place, you might get some new ideas, although come to think of it you already inspired those ones...for the record, I’ve seen you do better.
Catch you at the finish line.
PS: wont be able to make it to the next meeting, I’m kind of working on a clock, seeing as you don’t work with "time" I know you'll excuse me on this. Plus we always end up arguing anyway and it’s getting redundant, even I get bored now...we need to spice it up, what say you?
xoxoxoxo (how trite of me)
signed
Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan
Still reigning ...Prince of Darkness
All hail Moon Night
Am just contemplating the ironic hilarity that is being re-illustrated by the assorted moaning, baa-ing and moo-ing of numerous cows, sheep and goats today, all of which are to be tomorrows lunch fodder.
Funny story... all these animals are being oh-so ceremoniously "put-to" slaughter so that 'one fine day' btw i dont see this day as being particularly 'fine' cause its called "judgement day" which sounds kinda oozy. Anyway on this 'fine' day the afore mentioned "mass cattle carthage" will enable me to ride on my choice of animal...although cursed family heritage might ensure that i end up on a cow! (ephemeral and elusive curse known as the 'gujjar' virus or birth defect and as i am considered a "thoroughbred" version im assuming that makes moi a type A, 'dead on arrival' variety) and cross the fabled "pul seraat" as in seraat bridge to reach ....drumroll please.......PARADISE. Hoop la!
All this pervasive struggle only to have my dear Lord stand at the pearly gates and say "Sweetie didnt you get the memo, no-admittance zone" where i will have to ceremoniously "dis-mount" and let the bloody cow, goat or whatever manner of beast pass through as i look on forlornly...much resembling "All dogs go to heaven/ Hercules" flashbacks of the perpetual outsider, quivering pout and all.
THEN will have to make my way back... dare i say it - ON FOOT!
Funny story... all these animals are being oh-so ceremoniously "put-to" slaughter so that 'one fine day' btw i dont see this day as being particularly 'fine' cause its called "judgement day" which sounds kinda oozy. Anyway on this 'fine' day the afore mentioned "mass cattle carthage" will enable me to ride on my choice of animal...although cursed family heritage might ensure that i end up on a cow! (ephemeral and elusive curse known as the 'gujjar' virus or birth defect and as i am considered a "thoroughbred" version im assuming that makes moi a type A, 'dead on arrival' variety) and cross the fabled "pul seraat" as in seraat bridge to reach ....drumroll please.......PARADISE. Hoop la!
All this pervasive struggle only to have my dear Lord stand at the pearly gates and say "Sweetie didnt you get the memo, no-admittance zone" where i will have to ceremoniously "dis-mount" and let the bloody cow, goat or whatever manner of beast pass through as i look on forlornly...much resembling "All dogs go to heaven/ Hercules" flashbacks of the perpetual outsider, quivering pout and all.
THEN will have to make my way back... dare i say it - ON FOOT!
Sunday, January 08, 2006
We all fall down
Have been thinking much about abstract crossroads that life keeps throwing my way.
when did I cross the thin line where family and relationships go from being merely 'annoying' and ' weird' to overwhelming, unadulterated torture?
Am deliberating choices and options to twist paths....hmmm, just one wrong step on the merry-go-round and we all fall down.
when did I cross the thin line where family and relationships go from being merely 'annoying' and ' weird' to overwhelming, unadulterated torture?
Am deliberating choices and options to twist paths....hmmm, just one wrong step on the merry-go-round and we all fall down.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Doctor 'Who' and Mrs 'What the ****'
Back again!
Am still awaiting stupendous dose of intellectualism to hit- but so far no such luck. My "after-self" is as inane as my fore-self. So much for new-years and new beginnings!
Although we HAVE been carrying on scintillating conversations with Doctor 'Who" and Mrs "What the--" and somewhere between "nowhere" and "anyhow" i'm thunk-ing that we shall manage quite well with this new "solsctice"...How's that for new age?!
Although considering we dont know any dates for the actual solsctices- the bullshit bravado is endearing...atleast we like to thunk so.
Note to to After-self: We have decided to use "thunk" full-time instead of "think" cause we always do it in past tense and "thought" is just too pretentious.
Second after-note to after-self: Am speaking in "third" person to formally acknowledge and accomodate my "hyde", poor thing never gets any credit and has recently started to act up. have three "fresh" strategically placed zits on my face to prove it.
Am solemnly contemplating the decline of the human race- and am therefore thunking we should switch from writing as a career and aim for a PhD in "Reverse Darwinism'.
Am still awaiting stupendous dose of intellectualism to hit- but so far no such luck. My "after-self" is as inane as my fore-self. So much for new-years and new beginnings!
Although we HAVE been carrying on scintillating conversations with Doctor 'Who" and Mrs "What the--" and somewhere between "nowhere" and "anyhow" i'm thunk-ing that we shall manage quite well with this new "solsctice"...How's that for new age?!
Although considering we dont know any dates for the actual solsctices- the bullshit bravado is endearing...atleast we like to thunk so.
Note to to After-self: We have decided to use "thunk" full-time instead of "think" cause we always do it in past tense and "thought" is just too pretentious.
Second after-note to after-self: Am speaking in "third" person to formally acknowledge and accomodate my "hyde", poor thing never gets any credit and has recently started to act up. have three "fresh" strategically placed zits on my face to prove it.
Am solemnly contemplating the decline of the human race- and am therefore thunking we should switch from writing as a career and aim for a PhD in "Reverse Darwinism'.
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