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scatue

i have been frozen and moulded in statuesque cat form these past few days.

now i shall step down from my papyrus pedestal and resume sleeping near fires. seven thousand words constitue a fragile and undesirable pedestal – hastily baked, i shall bake myself fully on flagstones.

what fine chisel could ever yet cut breath?

Oliver Rashbrook : 21 Jun 2006 18:30 |  Comments (1) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

spaced. rocky.

sleep is a luxury i can't afford
the man in the moon is my bed and board

Oliver Rashbrook : 21 Jun 2006 03:50 |  Comments (0) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

an hokusai butterfly

emerging from the cocoon, i am a hokusai butterfly. i have sufficient leafs for wings, and now all that remains is to etch them. soon i will be able to bask them on a bigger leaf than me, but for now, i flutter…

when i said i needed coffee, i forgot that i also needed jason peirce's band. and now to rest my infra–red eyes. what effect will i have? tomorrow i forecast hurricanes and rain.

Oliver Rashbrook : 20 Jun 2006 02:05 |  Comments (0) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

i, this particular i, shall drink this, this particular coffee

the task is epic, the figure lies sleepy. unlike the depicted, who sleeps the sleep of the just, or of the exhaustedly adapted corrupt. to remedy my bleached eyes and tingling head, a cafetiere. oh me! how large is my canvas, when i have seven thousand words to play with?

i shall sit and think fondly of sleep while i write. acutely aware of absence, but i shall not absent myself. the task at hand is in hand, in good hands. perhaps we shall convene again when i have dreamed.

Oliver Rashbrook : 19 Jun 2006 20:16 |  Comments (0) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

a scavenger scavenges with impunity

Follow-up to wilderness, wilde, wildman from Rashomon Imperative

and from the pub to afternoon tea, where scones are left unguarded and unbuttered..

when the sandwiches are tiny, my criminality reaches inverse proportions. lock up your saucers.

now however, i must transform into an essay butterfly. with papery wings i shall paperily wing it. there are three days and seven thousand words and one man. do not be dismayed when i say peril lurks submarine..

Oliver Rashbrook : 18 Jun 2006 21:11 |  Comments (2) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

wilderness, wilde, wildman

now i'm back in the CM1, civilisedness has become undone

while it may appear that from my appearance i am feral, no wilde, a wilderness dresser – a wildman? – last night in the pub i was the very oscar of cheekiness. we bantered and frolicked, conscious unconscious, i cheated the bar out of a round of drinks, just like my ancestors would have done.

i have said it before on this blog – the only time i'm drink–and–drug–free is when i get my drink and drugs for free – and now i am finally getting to live according to mantra. while nabokov joined me in the pub, as a villain, he was in my pocket, and less terrible than the dark and smoky truth.

farewell, i journey back from essex, the wilderness, a wilde, a wildman.

Oliver Rashbrook : 18 Jun 2006 10:12 |  Comments (2) |  Close comments |  Trackbacks (1) |  Report a problem

toad bestowed

prologue
the blogger searched ineptly
'til he found a fine abode
was it house of william gates?
no! it was mr toad's

previous

the world has held great heroes
as history–books have showed
but never a name to go down to fame
compared with that of toad!

the clever men at oxford
know all that there is to be knowed
but they none of them know one half as much
as intelligent mr toad!

the animals sat in the ark and cried
their tears in torrents flowed
who was it said, "there's land ahead"?
encouraging mr toad!

the army all saluted
as they marched along the road.
was it the king? or kitchener?
no. It was mr toad.

the queen and her ladies–in–waiting
sat at the window and sewed
she cried, "look! who's that HANDSOME man?"
they answered, "mr toad.

Oliver Rashbrook : 23 May 2006 19:32 |  Comments (1) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

take a walk on the wild side

MONTAGE

holly came from miami f.l.a.

hitch-hiked her way across the u.s.a.

plucked her eyebrows on the way

shaved her legs and then he was a she

she says hey babe

take a walk on the wild side

hey honey

take a walk on the wild side

Oliver Rashbrook : 09 May 2006 18:52 |  Comments (3) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

unblogging

sorry blog, i think we all knew deep down that this was the truth, but only now has it been conclusively proved:

studying beats blogging by miles

In fact, Lig never formally resigned his editorship - he merely left his office late one morning and has never since returned. Though well over a century has now passed, many members of the Guide staff still retain the romantic notion that he has simply popped out for a ham croissant, and will yet return to put in a solid afternoon's work.

Oliver Rashbrook : 27 Mar 2006 13:32 |  Comments (1) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

Criminently

Writing about web page http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070608/

i'm off visiting
the sheriff of nottingham
to steal amusement

My Mental Weaponry: Do you know prating mantis?

Wait a minute. Is the safety on Old Betsy?

I shall return criminently

Oliver Rashbrook : 03 Nov 2005 21:50 |  Comments (16) |  Close comments |  Report a problem