the rightway

never smoke crack
me not just jack
never smoke rock
me never no jock
Dr Spock is so boring
enterprise snoring
rats steadily clawing
i live in the ocean
i cruise with potions
my 3rd eye is open and yours needs poking
me meet a fine girl and me cant conseal
she reads my mind like it just real
me rastafairan near vegetarian
no care in em x2
no love of the light
talking shite get off the mic
big 50 fuck the 50
mi6 mi5 dirty tricks
real slick kids
we all float up hear
keep it close
sheep like a shere
alan shearer
we know we heavier
spell on you, stick like glue
sick like shoes wrong feet confuse
lost it all in a night and i’m back on the grind
big bouncer smash my head into wall
where ther fuck me friend
in a corner
cocaine fresh, yoga best
i’m coming for the cake
like a slowworm snake
manchester
big bee make
no more bombs like the word in the song
reveal myelf and it be long
ryan ryan ryan big judda lion
lyin on my I’ll take your fucking teeth
hide them underneat as i show you my reach

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the little gatekeeper

the little gate keeper

 

we split up and i got cuts
I walked manchester for a month
and skulked in my graves, the little gate keeper
the seasons were steeper and creepers crept on my stones
i thought of bones and found busby

hostels, streets, ping pong animal
sleeping on broken glass and gravel

just when I thought I had it locked
homeless again unable to dock

and when they kicked me for nothing,
I knew I needed to stop bluffing
stop drinking and get help
so i melted in a cornerstone and felt the wealth
of christ

now I’m free and i miss my kin
we all sin, we can all grin and I feel her within
I must find you, 13 now and we start again
my child.

The Better News

I was born long ago in the 1980s.  A time of coal and lizards.  I was yellow when I was born and at school they called me radioactive: The joke was on them becasue in 2009 I worked with radioactive amino acids.   I was put into an oxgygen tent which sounds like a festival but is not.  It’s a tent for sick babies.

Then my sister was born and it was good.  Then my next sister was born and she was and is a small tigress.  Then my brother was born and he is wise like an owl.  My father was angry and sad and happy and made money while my mother made lasagne which my best friend devoured.

At primary school I was the best but then I moved to a special bully school and it was shit for two years until I met the soon to be named Shaolin Monkey Crew.  Big L, Little D, Liono, B-Lime and Feeling with my little brother and Pedro.

I took some acid and watched L’s face fall off.

I went to study Pharmacy and mixed dangerous chemicals together.

I smoked on a plane and went to jail.

I studied Biology and got a first.  I became defacto leader of the W Massive.

I fell in love twice and lust infinitely.

I did a PhD and went crazy.  I became friends with superdave.

I went to Asia.

I fell out of love and into Buddha.

I came home and cried.

I became God realised and Chrisitian.

The End.

Any Questions?

trivial

the man is self critical
all his thoughts are trivial
addicted to poisons
kids addicted to toys and
cats get fat on full fat cream
there never was a scene
just cheap drugs and selfish hugs
and music made on music machines
I love this track, but can’t go back
my life is not clean

every opinion is void
there is no separation
no us and them, enemies, friends
no taste
everything is mostly space
the dichotomy you imagine
the tragic magic
the plastic pipe of dreams
is just a juicy tangerine,
and all the pieces and all the white shitty bits in between
taste the same

It’s self indulgent,
repugnant, selfish
you’re a shellfish
going home alone
when you’re dead your bones
are fed to foxes and mushrooms
with one flick of his head,
Shiva will crush you.

 

converstation eel

conversations reel around, revolve I mean, like those annoying doors nobody needs or likes.  These confuse idiots.  We discuss politics.  The polite tricks of fiendish, selfish, parasitic humanoids.  Homo sexus.  Homo parasiticus.  Stare into peoples’ eyes, talking about the dumbing down of education or pollution or some other banal, self righteous slurry words.  Occasionally make eye contact with someone and see right into something real and then it’s gone.  A momentary sight of clarity.  It’s always a stranger but not always a girl.  That’s the truth and it walked away again.

Drone persons project their fake, saccharin mood on you like cheap wall paper paste that’s gone off and doesn’t work.  The paper slides down, involved in a council estate ritual and slowly degrades as pages of a wood chip book. Emotional residue remains and goes hard.  Spend the rest of the day picking it off like a scab.  Pray for rain.  Pray for scars so you have a story to tell yourself of another you can cover in paste.

Eels are not disgusting but your culture informs you otherwise.  It has a lot to answer for.  Get excited about your ability to grow a baby inside your body, then pay a teenager to look after it.  Your job makes you feel more important and useful.  You are not an identification.

I’m doing a studying for a moment in the future.  I’m revising for a moment in the future where I will be happy.  Right now I need to be unhappy.  I need to push myself further into nothing to get something later.  Then I will have it all and the little people will make me coffee and I will buy things and enjoy this brief happening of decadence.

I will eat things that make me feel sleepy and sick.

Ideas on how to trick people into clicking on a thing.  Don’t ever say hashtag to me.