TIME IS A CRUEL SPORT	

MEN CAN'T GIVE BIRTH
BUT THEY CAN LOVE THEIR
RECORD COLLECTIONS
IN OTHER WORDS

TIME IS A CRUEL SPORT


	

me! me! me!			
	
The poet stands aloft
sprouting growths 
Of mindless banter
Heathenly crafted
in superficial madness

(yes...i think that makes sense)

Wanting to be better
Than anybody else
Is a SHAM
A cop-out
And it breeds contempt

It's not familiarity
A family of friends
that is my enemy
It's conceited dicks
Who shove & push for the truth
And so I stick my fingers down my throat
		
	

New Girlfriend	

He rang me up...
Telling me of the
New Girlfriend (TM)
And how she was the best sex
He's ever had
And it made me feel bad
This chums evil laugh
That molests my morality
and more significantly
Makes me lonely
Yet again

"Cheer up!" he then says
And I tell him
HOw I believe my Art
Is SHIT, SHIT! SHIT!
Then he tells me
how wonderful my work is
And I want to 
react violently towards him
In the worst possible way
But i don't
	

The Friend			

	
you suckers you
you fuckin' fuckers you
I'm sitting here
and i ask you to help me
and none of you can be bothered 
to notice
like i am only narrow omnipresence
no wonder i feel like hiding away

The real world?
don't make me laugh
my situation is a vulnerable world, true
but did it ever occur to you
to help someone other than you?

you guard your plate
neanderthal
predator
have to help yourself in this world
and so now everybody HAS
to fuck everyone else over

some will call me bitter
no, YOU will

	

The enemy			

I've had enough of fucking
of trying to fuck
of measured luck
of blundering through and on
like some endangered species

I read the magazines
Yes, the ones with the pictures
of a present in denial
and try not to feel ashamed
as my principals 
become titilation

But i still try
yes, i'm a tryer
and i still feel betrayed
'cause we are all fakes and liars
Fighting for survival
with contemporary diction
that dictates my long gone fire

I just went out one day
when i saw the looks in the eyes
of the people who had once
made the signs of progress
I once so admired
they were sold a dream to believe in
and now they are bitter
and sometimes so am i



	

Sick Again			

Im sick again
of the streets and the rain
that falls within

i'ts a simple formula
someone once said to me
we are all similar or different
its just a different way to see

I dream of a ringing sound
but it's just my ears
wishing for other outside influences
I'm sick again

I'm sick again
of Jobs, money
and their magnetism
i'm dead within

It's an entertaining prospect
to satisfy and fill
my empty vessel
to let it overflow
to a point of unknown probability

			
	

Hermits & Whores	

Well it's happened again
my shell got broken
as i went out there
with everything that was pent up
spilling out of me
like the old mans guts
in The Godfather (pt 1?)

I gave it a go
to be myself
and show myself
as i am
and they've gone & gotton out
as i've come 'on in

I desperatly need so much
this necessity is becoming greed
a grail, a path
and now i begin to laugh
at my own unoriginal splendour

It's not the competition that brings the fear
It's the lack of intelligence
Life as a game?
Or as Free Market?
as a strategy for pain and anger

Oh! stop complaining, eh?
your alive
In this fake modern heaven of today
although i can't help feeling
that there were always Hermits & Whores
and the strategy of the War
is to keep them all in business





	

untitled as yet			

The bomb is falling
like those idols of bone
into idle churning daylight
i forget my home
the sentinels of charted fate
discuss the evidence wisely
but the faded envied story
has left us on it's plate
the eye has hidden in patterns
now a dancing daylight
mimmicks fools who trespass
into ritual awakening	
			
	

The Madarine sun			
		
Above our heads
a satellite is flying
drifting in a vacuous perfection
similar to my inner brain tissue

Heat distilled over distance
to a warmth felt in hearts fire
above our heads
this satellite is spinning

eyes saturated
responsive to gifts of lights rays
react & decipher
'till our worlds dying days

	

Zero Star			
		
...And this is the beginning
my memories click into operation
and i imagine my flesh 
rotting from within

Told of the man she really wanted
to be taken second best
as just another dark secret
left feeling i am playing the part
of unwanted secretion
in the life of others

Making the most of this
closeness, intimate
though everything still hinges
on success

A lump in my throat
a mixture of depression & hate
cause by honest childlike qualities
that many can only fake

I'm thinking about those pills again
a razors far too messy

Im' thinking how many will cry
for the real me, when i die
when people were hip to honesty

Another lady is driving me crazy
scenario for a lonely Romeo
'just good friends syndrome'
makes me wish i could throw my face away

I turn towards the window
pick up my guitar
scratch my bollocks
...and like my favourite movie star
I light up another smoke

"...sick of it i really am"

I am the zero star
contradict my entertainment
a serious lunatic
who probably means more than 
he thinks
who cries on the inside
and tries to feel better
when he drinks

I am the zero star
melancholic optimist
whose always sore from being pissed
from tripping to pastures new
and climbing slowly back over
to this side of the fence

I am the zero star
a guy who someday wants
some children
then laughs at himself
with his hand over his mouth

a talented killer
of pregnant time


	

Pornboy	


Settling down
she flickers on the screen
He takes out his hardening Penis
ready to become an obsenity
within the cinematic confines
of his own skull
In his own mind
he is judging
on a scale and an axis
that never allows
for the continuity and praxis
that time could allow


	

		
		
WORDS

The real problem with words
is that you have to share them

if you really want people to 
know exactly what you're talking about...

or,  well, um...er 


and you have to be sure what you are talking about

and that the people you are talking to, 
speak the same language (s)

LOVELIFEDEATHMUSICDREAMAMBITIONFEARDEATH
	

MUSIC

The music
gets everyone going

not only 
dancing
but, 

clothes and chat
and if you don't 
like this
or that

then you're dumb 
or socially inadequate 
or something

	

THE STIRY FORT
[cut-up experiment]

INTO IHY THE DAY WAY
KEELING OVER & UNDER
AND FROM AND TOWARDS
THE STIRY FORT

WER TOP ARRRR! SEE YU - I - OPE

FRY THE FRUT OPON THE WASTEED 
TRYING HERD OF TYPE UNBEEN 
UNDER-STAN? 

DING A LING A SING A LONG
TOWARDS THE SAME SHAMEFUL BIT?
THE STIRY FORT? AHAAA

FRUM DROP HI

67 BELLSKILLED RUM KINGS
POLI UHU ERDULESCENT ILLNESS
SKI SKILL RETARD FRUITY LOOP
TWINGLING MY FINGYS 

HOWARYA

HUH? IT'S THERE...!

	

If there's a GOD		

If there's a god
why doesn't he know my name?
why doesn't he ring me up on the tele-phone?
why can't you get him out on video?
and...more importantly, 
why doesn't he do, say, 
something about all the badness?

He must be a lazy git, because he
recruits others to do the real dirty work

like going round door to door
or telling people not to take drugs
or booze

he has even got people in the Army
		
	

1 good thing about not having a memory				

Isn't it always the way?
when you have spent an hour
of the day watching a film
only to realise that you've
seen it before when the final 
credits are on the screen and
then you remember that you have
seen it before and but its
better than remembering it
when you've just sat down
with your tea
and biccys
(preferably)
and all settled near the fire
(it's cold)
		
	

Opening			

I press my stomach
and open my mouth
my innards clench
and my areshole farts

I open my mouth
(yes that's it...)
and my areshole farts
and then i open my mouth

this continues for quite a while
until i eventually sleep
and then wake up hours
later with my innards
clenched and i piss for
what seemed like forever


			
	

CHUCKED	
			
THE OTHER DAY
I LOOKED AT SOME OF MY DRAWINGS
THEY WERE OVER 3 YEARS OLD
AND I THOUGHT AND THOUGHT
LOOKED AND LOOKED

I LOOKED WITH ROSY ROSY EYES 
AND THEN I THREW THEM OUT 
THEY WERE SHIT
SO I THREW THEM OUT
INTO THE STREET
THEY FELL LIKE BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLIES
BEAUTIFUL SENTIMENTAL BUTTIES
OUT AND NEVER LOOKING BACK

	

Shitting a Shit			

I, sitting here, arse clenched...
soon i will go upstairs into the
toilet and pull my trousers down
sit on the pan and shit through my anus

Then, i will stand up, 
wipe my arse with the pink toilet tissue 
and examine my excretion

I will then toss the shitty tissue
into the lav lavvy loo boghole john
shitter shithouse crapper Karsi
and I will flush it 
down and away from me
through a pipe somewhere


	

Noyed!	


A SHORT TIME AGO
EVERYTHING USED TO ANNOY ME

I MEAN EVERYTHING
ESPECIALLY T.V

I USED TO SIT THERE AND SAY

"WHAT YEAR ARE WE IN?"

AND:

"WHY ARE WE WATCHING THIS SHIT?"

(especially if it was 'neighbours')



	

Butchers			

"BUTCHERS are often humble & cuddly"
Rob said to me	

"No!" i said, "Butchers often have very long sideburns..."

then he said, "...and, they are often humble & cuddly!"

and then he added:

"Perhaps not so cuddly..."


		
	

Hangover			
	
I'm not bragging, but
i got really drunk last night

It always makes me frightened

In the new morning when i feel weak
and lie in the bath and all the time
i have these sexual dreams

It just makes me want to cry out sometimes 	

that's all