All entries for September 2006
September 28, 2006
babe i’m on fire
candles wax my books
waning they will wean their way
babe i am on fire
the athlete with his hernia says it
i can’t think of it
of anything to say i’ll
say this anyway
picasso with his guernica says it
my days march dazed too much i
fill valentine time
my wife with her furniture
sunning my punning
what time, what rime for my rhyme?
sunned entwined and done
fifth verse same as the
first verse dirth, amass àmatt
bam bas bat see that?
September 26, 2006
next time our lonely inn was interupted at 3am by sanity knocking on the doorbell..
we fought with giant tegenaria gigantea/domestica after cleaning the house (domesticum) and eating steak for tea (gigantic teaum).
we played halo (this is halo, but it won’t hurt you, said blur, but they were wrong). now i have lit candles in a sacrifice for my sanity, and snap my hands – rolling my thumbs – towards the overlarge mosquito which moves from my blog to my candles and back again. so strong, so bright was the halo-urge, that pete doherty’s clanging, dying soiled monk snapshots were put on stop. “we have to hear the gunshots”.
and then, despite my most seductive velvet bag, scrabble was turned down. for after immersing four young minds in another violent world for hours, it was deemed that words were too much for them.
and even though we are all lethal killing machines in this/that/which universe, the carbon dioxide has convinced me to go green. my descent into madness is at least subjective and temporary – states and parts of states. i promise not to be bad to the world for ages, whereas i only promise not to pick up my sword and split the screen for two days.
tomorrow will surely bring more gigantea/domestica…
and i know that she is wise and she’s the apple of my eye
September 05, 2006
where do i live? at the moment i can hear the rag and bone man passing by my front door, classily ringing his bell, and neglecting to yell “raaag nnn booon” (“something big is going to happen…”)
yesterday as i jogged around the river, a man with three teeth and a micky, or perhaps minnie, mouse t-shirt accosted me as i ran. i extracted one of my headphones and cocked my ear his way – “i don’t mean to be nasty”, he said, “but there is a reason there is a path here, and a road here.”.
“don’t worry about it”, i replied,”i’ll be ok” and ran on for a long long time – though not fast enough to duck or to dodge his rejoinder: “fuck you”.
and then my friends and i played board games and discussed all of the things that young men discuss – philosophy and gilrs, reading books, sporting activities, bohemia, pubs, coffee. we were interupted at 3am by a girl ringing the doorbell:
“do you know alison?”, she asked
“it’s just that i think she has gone off with my boyfriend”
“sorry, no-one knows who alison is.”
she apologised, the door was closed, and we expressed incredulity before heading to unmade beds.
what denizens there are – hopeless wandering girls, tooth-lacking pedants, men self-effacingly seeking rags and bones. it makes you want to play the swordfishtrombones.
September 04, 2006
but then the microbiological denizens of my guts rebelled, and compelled me to stay at home. the revelation to stay at home came when i gruesomely packed a sickbag in my backpack.
if you remember this, then you have an insight into the pattern that my brain is currently processing the world with.
is it cooler to play a sci-fi-epic-game with expensive models painted by my own hand, or to do it on a computer? the computer messes with your mind when eyes are closed, or not paying attention to what is actually there . when i look at the imperfections of some wallpaper, i actually see (“will this go away”, fred interrupted, “when i get off substance d?”)
luckily, i have jolted my mind back into a snug fit with the world with some movies:
separated at birth?
September 02, 2006
today we journey to the coast, for to say farewell to a fond friend. just like the beatles, he desires to turn his lp to the other side, and hear the sitars as he seets thar under thee stars.
in between i sit and read. it is reading in the afternoon, learning in the evening, perusing in the morning, and re… in the night. i also see if i can survive neil young and leonard cohen for a whole album. leonard remains impenetrable, as the cd tracks do not align with the tracklisting. joan of arc does not dwell in a chelsea hotel.
and i was sitting in the pub, and “heroes” came on. it was brought to my attention, and i responded in an inverted fashion. miming a mime with my mirey mimicry (it was never going to succeed). and there i was thinking that i could remember standing by the wall, while the camera flash flashed.