Thursday, July 16, 2009

Mile High Club

I saw you, your gilded lashes were cages for the routine dancing in your eyes. Lakes releaseing rivers down your cheeks.

He came cutting through the feilds
all high and gallant
with no cracks in his shield
a better way to die
I promise i’ll be with you
when you go, so worry not
i’ll let you know
all you forgot
cos your brain wont let you remember
yeah, your a member
of the mile high club, the fishing alliance, the boots advantage card holders, the leonard cohen fanclub, the parent teacher assosciation. your a vitctim of inflation, of the great debate, of all those things you love and hate, you won't ever let anyone, tell you what you dont want to hear, your an embracer of space and a victim of fear, you’ll let nothing destroy you, but let everything in, your overwieght now, but you used to be thin, and all that I tell you, everything's true, all integral parts of the being of you, and although you dont know it, you are happy to make true, the life that you love and the death that will take you.

The Divine Matrix

"Riding the stained glass back of glory towards the war between modern day idiocy and the Divine Matrix"

Friday, May 8, 2009

Red Loafers

'The most wondrous sense of dread, tripping and two stepping around this brain in a pair of red loafers.stop this now, or i shall recoil, dancing, into immortal infallibility with the rest of these god damn chancers...'

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Rest Assured

"I saw them fillet you, and lay you on the counter. Fall asleep, honest, it's coming, and it's all but undeserved. Rest assured, I will be sleeping, and of absolutely no help to you in your time of distress...."

True Happiness

"True happiness is neither true, nor a happy concept. It is merley a cruel ignorance of the reality of situation. Clouding clear judgement with the intangible mist of comfort, and producing no influence for to keep with the search, deluding us and leaving us to fish in the river of none consiquence...."

Grandpa's a packhorse

"Granpa's a packhorse these days. I saw him, he passed the window with the world in his hair. Glowing silver like the last moments of everything, the last spark of existance imploding and dancing with beautiful kinetic trickery. In that moment he was younger than his first breath, and rightly so, for his fortunes had culminated to all but the one thing he valued most, his youth and the ignorance that came with it...."

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


"He sat below his fortunes, shadows cast, now melting like the frost that bit his memories, all scarred like those guys at gas stations, leather skinned and baseball capped. Filling up your dreams for all but one dollar and the scent of escape. ‘light a match, and we’ll both be gone’..."

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Take A Seat

"Take a seat, this moment's getting old."

Monday, January 19, 2009

Waffle Irons

"Shining golden like the devils back paws, dreaming seamlessly like a night of waffle irons."


"Oh! To ride astride the back of this youth, talons ablaze with the sorry sight of freedom. What world will welcome such a child, whose arms quite understand the burden of its other lovers hands."


"Sometimes I want to rewind my tape, as long as my first breath and further. To once again be a tenant of the womb and a student at the school for parasites and the hard of loving".

Blue Print's For My Beard Farm

So here is an example of the blue prints for my new project OPERATION BFCC or 'Beard farm for the cultivation of chin-wigs'. This is not the actual blue print. I just lifted this one of the 'AYP campus' off google images. I will be taking orders from June onwards, so if your jaw line is lonely, get yourself a Chin-wig. Our client list already includes Shania Twain and that geeky kid off The Wonder Years. Word.

Eye Brows

"My darling's a beast, who waits in the yard for the dawn. Where he wails as he feast's, on the roses and all of their thorns. Alas, no voice he has, and a voice he must have for to shout, and a light that is baring such secrets is sure to burn out. I say sleep quiet, sharpen your teeth, and emerge from this body your soul is impounded beneath. Make haste, for your brow is solid steel, if only for a moment more. This life is all you have."

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Holy Inconsistency, I Still Bare Your Shrapnel.

Written 31/10/08

"I lost him one morning to the illegal bluebells. He made a B-line for escape. I wasn't invited. As always a mere catalyst to get him to where he wanted to be. A chemical reaction to excel him in the race towards self acceptance. And the consequence, the explosion of my heart. Now in a frame upon his bedroom wall, painted blue like his eyes and his words, smooth like the underside of his forearms, high like his mind, and hard like goodbye my love, I will never forget, and that is the worst thing".

"Be Nice To Me"

All in one sky. Tread on stone paths. "Be nice to me, my daughters are all consultant doctors."

Other I

'Other I, so free as to the wind I call a bird. Tis I, sweet land - So furnish my feet with your dusted hands, and squander my attempts to shut out the day. For the sun will rise, and set. But miss it I will, when doused in fiery fear, of letting any new words near'.

Noah - Rodent love

'Find me, for I am lost upon a road. Swaying wild on tip his middle finger. Dust go left, dust go right, but never balance. I could escape with you, but such dependence rides on waves of only those whom you may truly trust. Another comment for to thrust amongst the shattered embers that his cold words embrace. My own creation, now to breath and separate. I wish only for gateways, and looking passed the glaze of the rest of life's eyes'.

Good Mourning

'A morning parade, The gold of the day. So soft to approach - So quick to away. I love you this time, And always will wake. To greet you thy morning, For my sad heart's sake'.

Sweet Aorta

Never be so foolish as to underestimate the sadness in another man's heart, for a heart is much like a sewer. Capable of carrying the weight of the worlds shit and good at hiding it. We are merely vehicles for our souls, and someone, somewhere, is bound to cause a traffic jam.

Snail egg's

Oblivious to the fragility of their situation, Oblivious to hurt, pain, love, and their own creation.
Lying still, and unthinking upon the palm of one who is aware of what power befalls him, the destruction of life, however small and insignificant to one who does not think. 'What luck for you, that this hand was not born a bird, take rest, and dream up your shells'.

I took this photo in the allotment about a year ago. My brother Ben had picked up some snail eggs. I have looked at this photo several times since, it always makes me wonder how they are doing, you know, did they get into college, have their first kiss, stub their toe. If I bumped into one of them in town I guess i'd just say 'we're not so different, you and me'. And I hope that never changes.