Canberra 2013

a centennial year poem

a crass grass ridden place
hidden behind civic sheen
empty streets laden
in publicservant

its conceit
that it counts, somehow
brown nosed cow
far away from the real game

choked by cloying carefully composted
conservatrite bullshite
dry in yr face death winds blowing
off the Monaroo plain

the frost circles widen
around the roundabout parade
public carrion birds circling the hill
circling inwards for the kill

a compromise stillborn
grown into a classless tasteless suburbinane sprawl;
a junked-up townie wasteland;
a white commodore drawl-ville

come visit the inhuman theme park toy town!
see the horse tradin in political unobtanium!
do smell the stigma martyr and pistil!
aboutfarce the subsidised pageant of national propagandorum!

chalk topped hills canter into summer fires
but a fillip inverts the entire scenario into
a cemented dangerous cancerous cantanker
and cold as a fuck in snow is Canberra

the great mind spasm

(to be set to music) 0. youse asked me to show youse where i had come from.. swen i answered in alphabettagammi two shoes. fart ensemble my arse.. premises evacuating inside virginia

eyes dilating... premises alighting on fire trees.. beautiful slaves running in and out of villages plasticine space people sucking on grogans.. listerine sphynxes parting waters .. oval weavils making snatches of conversation with bellybuttons..

 ...the message infects brains around the ring systems 9..kinds of cheeses in my pocket.. fill up with cuppa soup.  bring home the children.. practice spacewalking at home to unveil possible wormholes

1.it has all been said already, written down in ancient texts, which no-one can be bothered to read. that is why it may be said again and seem new. but there is nothing ever truly new

2.there is a whole lot that can't be said too, of course, waiting to be said. or just that words don't make the right shapes to fit the meaning, like poorly cut clothes. so sometimes it is best to say nothing.

3.fast forward and life is like a thought occurring in the brain of the great being whom we inhabit - who is even so just the same being as ourselves, watching countless lives blossom and close before their very eyes every second

4. a blink contains a thousand universes, it is possible to argue against this, but impossible to ever truly conclude with a truth that stands alone.

4. that which is self evident is the most miniscule of specs - the dot on the 'i' - at the same time there is no need to change our elaborate understandings just because another elaboration comes along

5.even if the force of an argument can close a debate for a couple of centuries, yet it will resurface as the old sages die and new combatants rise to challenge the existing doctrines

6.through this process, no truth is established forever, nor any established truth ever completely disproved.

7.the ultimate creator of truth is yourself- there is no other who can decide for you what is true

8. your truths are your shields and knives with which you battle the world and survive or die. their suitability is shewn by their applicability in this fight. but tomorrow is another fight.

festive embalming party sees eating of disgourged brain soup and military pie.. isis stands back only to see horus feast on the emblematic token priest. father of god, Aeneas besplattered with the blood of accidental aenemas

..twice into the water fell the stone, counting the reflection as a separation. as the back wall of the cave contains the whole world projected by the mindfather.

and when the good will out, there will only left be cravings and barking of dogs at twilight, while the homely ones stay safely inside.  go out after dark and you will see the things lurking in shaddows cast by the corner of your eye. this is where reality meats the dream, hits the backwall.

trees grown thus perfecting the truth of the tree. there is only one truth of the tree but it exists in countless forms. the tree in the mind is that same tree - there is and has only ever been the one lonely tree - existing horizontally and longitudinally through all time and space wherever it can be conceived - a thousand trillion images in a broken mirror seen by countless eyeballs

9.abbot what are you about? australian dunce winning the race, trounson the princess. water her down with veni vidi vindictive from your wet wet sweat behind the ears boyish charmless guile

10.we create the truth ourselves but it is never truth, just a pretty fallacy, to keep us busy

belief sphere

outside the known sphere of the universe      of universe cities
lies the half-belief sphere

hollow and
it glows

perfectly unlike
the imaginings of any prophet        so far

but resembling immaculately
the great breakthrough of tomorrow afternoon       over the gin soaked side-car

where i
having seen your pale arm
there draped on the green bonnet
asked you to play
croquet

something like that cat used to say
"we are what we believe" minus       what the crows lacerate with black beaks

they say "show your palms"
and open like little white snow daisies

a field scattered with palms
is tended carefully       that is a promise to the future

new collection on amazon - a garbage truck tilted over on the sewer side

A new collection covering most of the last five years, and with the unnecessary title "a garbage truck tilted over on the sewer side" is now available not here but here at amazon. it has typos misspells bad grammas & etc all included as gratis.

thoughts from the mind spool

3rd attempt

if we want to be free
then see:
the jailer is "free"

if we want out
then out is inside
partytime in my mind

*

i am rubbing my head against
the wall
in my heart

trying to get in

i have unlocked the world
seeking the key

the key which is locked inside my heart

Punch on the nose

I get moving
slowly
like a hammerhead shark
on the floor of the ocean

down here
nervous system rules supreme
to feel is to respond -
is this the ultimate freedom?

come inside my silver suit
hold the real me
around the waistline
but be cautious in case
the packaging splits

with eloquent fabrications
we keep the truth inside

traveller

have you been there?
if you have
you will know what i mean

if you have been there
you'll still be there
no-one ever really comes back

the game from then on
is just keeping up appearances

in my pocket
i still have the ticket
that was torn
at the door to this theatre

don't forget
we all have a train to catch
at the end of the night