Monday, 30 November 2015

We Regret To Inform you That you Have Insufficient Funds

Our boats are hardly floating but many great friendships start from despising the same person
We have four dollars and fifty-four cents in our bank account
Why is it even called savings
When we say our bank account we mean our entire bloody oath savings so never 
Ever compete at being poorer
If only automated teller machines allowed us to extract amounts less than ten dollars
We would insert four one-dollar coins into shopping trolleys and leave them there
For nothing for those poorer than us
It is unlikely
The caramel coloured plastic dog with a piggy bank hole in its head
We’ll feed that with our fifty-four cents
Two children declare the confectionary aisle as Charlie’s chocolate factory
They quest for tickets and error receipts as the equivalent
Length is delightful except for their mothers
The twits who hang off the five fingers of their guardians
Four already entwined with handles of plastic bags too thin to encourage the contents inside 
From spilling we’ll open a can of baked beans inside the mall
And throw a caution of spoilers for winners we never liked the runner-ups
Grocery shopping is expensive 
We can’t afford almonds
Nuts can undermine cravings or so they say
We’ll jump our engines and cruise through fast food chains to soak our stomachs in oil
Six months old
What’s a piece of lettuce supposed to do
We don’t even eat lettuce so why’d you have to fucking shred it
We hate smearing off the lettuce and mayonnaise
With napkins we feel so judged for doing it
We wish some people could leave their greasing for dressing their salads instead
They wouldn't even give the sauce for free let alone the actual thing
We want our next birthday cake to be a mountain of chicken nuggets
We’ll tell you more about this as the day nears
We got fined an extra ten dollars on our phone bills for international calls
How boring would it be to be successful in the future if we were rich the whole time
“Time is money” says the old saying
No one listens to you anymore
Stop sending your catalogues to our address or at least provide a pre-paid envelope
So we can send them the fuck back to you
We wonder what they think when they see our faces
The word disease is a disease itself  
We try so hard not to be ashamed of how poor we are but maybe it’s just a phase
We’re going through
The receipts now
And who knew how absorbent they could be for teardrops of deprivation
Upon enlightenment, “Oh my fucking god,” the children scream

Saturday, 28 November 2015

When A Skin Comes Second You Shoulda Peel

I read somewhere on the Internet the Lamborghini founder
Founded his company after he complained of a mechanical deficiency with his Ferrari
To which Ferrari had told him to fuck off
That is why Bruce Wayne drives a Lamborghini
Like you are still oblivious to committing the same mistake
On me I will never forgive and was never impressed
I will beat you on your own field failure is
The anthem of success I have heard too many times already revenge
Should never be your contention for poetry but pardon this as my only
Means
To toast the toad with literature
Deemed illiterate for the elite
Only neatness will do
Pollute the oxygen with arrogance of experience underground 
The name on a weekly basis you boast about yourself is unheard of
Bad taste is the biggest sin of socialisation 
Bruce Wayne is no longer on the blackboard, so outline his body
Who spat compliments at swine and collected confidence from those deprived
Of happiness
A hero in skinny jeans
The stick figure of hanging man, deep fry the doodling of incorrection
Incorrection is not a word in the dictionary, but Shakespeare was allowed to make up his own
The warrior with the red pen of flaw and injustice
High distinctions for those unworthy, reinforce again the corruption of judgement
It isn't fair
Close your face with the fringe
Hanging off your forehead
The banner of disgrace your hair is ashamed to be a part of you
I will shed my skin on every Monday until every cell is blue with sickness
You are sick in the head like us 
Stop running from the escort 
Welcome a ritual at twelve noon
In a seat as as far from you as possible I will shield my quivering self-esteem
Behind the hippy figure
The monotone microphone inside your voice box
Vibrates off the walls
They painted with
My school fees
Plunge me from the fourth floor onto the bushes of paradise so pretty the islands
Bleach my face in sour opinion of those creaking mouth traps
Is jealousy a good excuse 
An opinion is only an opinion coming from you
I will fall off those notorious stairs
Twenty times and rise only twice because I am just so tired
Being alive is exhausting
And a chore
I have cried to my mother too many times 
She’ll cry by herself after I leave because only that could have raised such a son
I will change the conclusion for your entertainment
I am the surgeon you have burdened, again, with the janitor’s cheque
Keep your compliments to yourself
And superficial concern is horrifying
Too many times
I have gone to bed depressed
There is a ship sinking inside my chest
The temperature of this freezing sensation
The coldness that clogs the windpipe of human anatomy too complex
For the artist to comprehend
Your indifference may be terrifying, but it is your superiority, that scares me the most
I have always been a sore loser but who can blame this loss so great to penetrate my dignity 
What is this feeling
What is this fucking feeling for fucks sake 
That I am feeling
It hasn’t a name but what’s in a name that Bruce Wayne by any other title
Would still be the judgmental bastard
Who narrates our fiction
The uniform of white and black costume is the informal custom of depressed people  
The skunk whose smiles hide those thorns behind lips barely there, chapping  
I unleash anger at four o’clock
In the morning it isn’t such a bad time

Monday, 23 November 2015

Flush Your Fears With Fortune Telling

It is quite impossible to always be healthy so perhaps there is a formula
For superior health consult a doctor for diagnosis
Or book a specialist for therapy tailored for specific needs 
For mental healing consult a psychologist
Alternatively there is also the advice to seek a fortuneteller for curiosity and ask them
The dumbest questions
To provoke the seizure that they deserve for being fake bitches and the false readings
They give no shits
Clearly 
Pretend you are actually god and read their palm
Snatch their moon and star galaxy pattern in general tablecloth
Curse generously at their excessive use of
The blue eyeshadow 
How fucking revolting!
Pronounce they will die eventually
Because they will anyway
Cease these circumstances to polish your skill for acting
Prepare for the crying competition
The funeral attendance will always feature an empty seat
For the ghost who is the new friend of the dead person who flies from the seat
Back and fourth to the coffin
There is always enough room at your service
For a man eating a bowl of salad
Inside a classy restaurant
Where water that should always be free is even more expensive
Than the cheapest kind of wine out there
Once my mother almost gave a two pack of wine bottles already opened and consumed to
Our neighbours
Are sick of our singing
But they can’t do anything about it
I was walking in the city when a fella nearly bumped into me
I wasn’t bothered…
But his bowl haircut made me angry 
Why do I have to live in constant fear
Of dropping my phone in the toilet bowl

Saturday, 21 November 2015

Nerve-racking Hobbies

Uneasy crowds who stroll holding hands on counting rhythm 
Uncertainty provides the breeding ground for chaos 
Confusion is the manifestation of chaos always 
Who is the foe in the face of fucked up politics
Leave politics to the politicians 
Who party too hard 
Till dawns on our desperation it’s unlikely for them to turn off the light
It’s never the ideal situation 
When everything is beautiful nothing is 
The complete bullshit we pave on faces with concrete to garner confrontation  
The more the merrier
The gift of flowers of mulitcolour expression
What are flowers to dead people anyway 
The people for whom we deprive the desire of introducing conversation are no longer
Our good friend who knows better than to give flowers to old people
The people 
Who people the room for the people’s sake
To keep us running in the rat race
Except as humans we don’t need to obey the plunge great enough 
In order to retain the masterpiece 
Of art so high the artist is the best judge he’s got 
Enough critics on his back already
The fortune of each foul word 
Falling from the troubled mouth
Is a tragedy of the trap for vulnerable esteem 
Who cling on nerves like they would on monkey bars that are the old sport 
In the nostalgic thriller
Three more critics 
And the hairy old beast that beats his chest 
Behind the desk the chef-in-chief
In charge of cooking for hungry critics
A masterpiece riddled with enough fecal matter 
For the picky customer
Who salivate from lips, thinning with jealousy

Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Unfortunately The Sunken Fortune

Too much marching to eager a clearance
Of the squad of the security members
Remember to secure a seat on the forefront
At the fluorescent venue of the very important persons lounge
The entertainment
Punishable
By tarnished reputation
Ready yourself to shed plasma on the green carpet table
Rolling the dice what are the chances of getting sick of handsome people
What is with the fashion of appearing fucked up
Shuffle the brain with fingers unfathomable enough to puncture the skin
Of the deal weakling  
There is no such thing as a dealer good for a fair win
A pleasant drawing
Deal with it nicely or be dealt with
A jackass to blow up your brains on the celling
Against the screens
Illuminated with the indecisive digits
Count down on calendars
Ordered unfairly
In odd pairs a king and a queen make love under the table
Guarded by loafer legs
Laced with
High polish for the posh that
Conceive with purpose to multiple their wealth
Infinitely
Around the counter the world is stiff and waiting
For cheques to catch their colds immediately
Cash instead
The frowns of losers
Stood behind
Broad egos and a velvet shoulder to soak up the grief of failure a loss
Too great for faces too small to illustrate
The blossoming of expressions as heavy as
A heaven collapsing
On all fours
Hide the shame underneath sweaty palms the scent to deter
An unthinkable solution of the ambiguous
Kind
The more sinister
Meditate for another day yet to practice the patience of
Payback
Sought after
The roulette table                                                      
Assign the correct sentence
Rolled wisely for the justice of the death of a dying die

[My Mum's Artwork: Girl At The Beach]


Hunter Hunger

Volatile and venomous
Vicious are the straightforward rhythms of nature
The flux of the tide
To carry the fish down the stream that weep not so silently 
The rock bed is extra rocky to finish their fins
Of those fish of excellent character
The expensive armor of silver scales to defend yourself against
The evil predator
On land
Patiently courts the chaos with proud posture cloaked with exotic fur 
Tempting to the skinners 
On hind legs crouching ready ever ready to snap his prey
In teeth of ten thousand inches those canines to tear into your flesh
Ripple your spine in factions of flamboyance
Your bones aren’t even a struggle to
Swallow
Hardly your nerves will make you lose even faster
Pray to the spirits of the tide
For mercy you need desperately the protection of their water
A blanket to screen your life a meal for many
The appetite
The hunger which does not discriminate against 
The victim
Roars for your flesh full of omega goodness for sharper eyes
To see you stronger
To see you closer
To hunt you better
And your family
Stay in your schools of fish or risk enrolment 
On the field trip that is fraught with danger 
Detention inside 
The predator’s stomach 
Swim a lap
Down the loops of intestines of food well overdue
The water is salty to marinate
You
Are the fish my friend

'The Blind Man's Meal' by Pablo Picasso (1903)

Visiting Hours of the Walnut Ward

Be not afraid of heights
For we are climbing the minds of the dead human kind
Slip and slide off the dirty route
The dirt of tracks of dirty thoughts that must have been
A morbid craving of social disgust
Disgusting 
The disconnection of the signal from the directory
Discuss the gossip of nothing made into something out of
Rubbish the mouth that mumbles
Non-stop
The nasty lips that twist and turn around the corner
A popping blood vessel
Spills the beans of the brain
A roasted walnut
Coated in blood paint two more coats
For protection the skeleton shell
A crab shell is not always orange except the curiosity that lurks around the next
Corner
Another blood vessel dies in dramatic
A popping
Non-stop
A fountain of walnuts spill from the stove
Like popcorn roasting
Inside the hard-shell head
Of the had been human
Cling tight onto these walls of timber bone
The gloss of the surface a gateway to sleeping
Slip into injury
Caution
The brain popping in slow motion roasted for no particular reason
Another blood vessel bursts
Blooding blues the unique
Staircase around another corner the monster accusing the visitors us
Of trespassing
Now pop the vessels on purpose the vessel for thought
Don’t think just do
Luscious popcorn walnut roasting carnival
Peak hour for rowing the row of your boats on the brain
Down the blood vessel stream
Bumpers over the blood frozen bubbles
A bomb or two for tourist attraction
Cling on tight this is not the mountain you were
Expecting to mount a brain instead and instead
Indeed you are inside the quiet of
The human brain
Free entry
Free of charge take what you want for free evermore free forever

Jackpot Thirsty

Sitting cross-legged like culture you ought to possess  
Hide under the blouse that sweeps the floor
Triggers chequered
Headaches
A pounding
The punter says kill yourself slowly in your body your bread and butter
Resist the temptation of food presentation
Multicolour enticement excruciating to watch and smell
So great your honour
So great your yearning  
So great you convulse into short bursts of
Mental spasms
Frequently
Famine yourself for the profits of fame
Magnificent the road
Kill
Our lives permanently borrowed a fit for the lifeless
We are dead approximately
Living's an extraction of an experience of excursion for the dead or nearly so
So stay in your lane
Enforced speed cameras afar the flash starting
Now
Fines for fine dining
Ring the bells of betting on grand prize 
Suck at the breast that nurtures the immature
Eyes glancing glance glanced in disgust
Watering of anger offended damp the influential disease
Of discrimination against mothers
Feeding young
Nibble one
The milk from the breast sadly pink sour a sight
Full on
For people aged aging forget the source of once
Original their food
Income
Original is never desirable the mass popularity
Of the mainstream feed off each other’s
Taste a liking for nipples hid to prevent offence
They and them are so offensive the children fool
Full the children

Sunday, 15 November 2015

Ugly Giant Goes On Adventure of a Lifetime

It is always a pleasure to star in the overthrow of the monarchy
The beheading of the wacky king the incompetent ruler of the empire
There is no measure to such stupidity
But the dreadful number of offspring 
The innocence of those children born to the nation’s bastard
Hardly equipped to resolve the poverty and suffering
Of the peasant
The how to act effectively to resolve the frustration
Uprisings
Those consistently threaten the throne
Of which will now be sat on by butts of a million people 
And more
We will sing the national anthem for one last time
With clean razors
Shave your neck of baby hairs
For no more heirs to come
And torture us
Us
The majority
Us the suppressed
Us of your ruling
The unjust lacking of your character to be our
Supreme leader
Like other kings buoyant and sure
So us the people, who now, in power of your head and your neck
We will lie on our bats and hit out of the field
Your dickhead flung
As far as possibility permits
Never be head of state again
Enjoy the fresh air while it lasts
Before the sky
All hails!
On you
The final farewell

Battleship Casualty

Critical acclaim for the powerful propaganda productions
Mutinies dramatized
Where enlisted men refuse to eat rotten meat 

Infested with maggots and reeking of disease
An uprising triggered by the ship’s
Second in command
Threatening to kill those refusing to consume 
The cowardice of corruption 
Spark spontaneously the resentment towards officers
The loyalty and service of the military on which the monarchy
So heavily relies upon 
To sustain itself
And those superiors of so-called authority
Abusing they do best the human status to conquer
Over the state of humanity
In horror
In hunger they play screeching
Like rats caught in traps
Man-made for man’s peace of mind
Tear a piece of the meat
In solitude plead after the gods of the sea
For poisonous air for the captain to inhale his own death on his own terms  
Create justice 
Strum dramatic sound and heavy instruments 
To capture the tensions, energy, and fanatical atmosphere
In generals
Fill the lungs with poison so rich
To grant the death euphoric
And entry into immediate renascence of euphoria
A sea of sailors in which to bless your birth
Beaten for all kinds of reasons and often
Without complaining compelled to fill the holes of hunger
With rotten biscuits
Stinking decaying meat
While, again, reborn an officer
Fatten your crave with the best food
Roll on down the endless flight of steps
Tripping and trampling
Over dead bodies scattered about
Under your feet
A familiar face to endure your footprint
Your mark on humanity
Will always be as profound as the rolls of fat
Barely tucked under
Your blue jeans

Saturday, 14 November 2015

Quivering Stigma

The art of keeping calm 
The barking dog with its leash too tight around its neck 
Is hope on its way
How do we laugh in times of mourning
Teach us the dumb the method of suppressed laughter 
Vandalize on foreheads the punishment according to sin  
Careful not to give away 
Too much the risk of being bore transparent in the sea of people
Someone whose life couldn’t easily acquire 
Insight of
The greatest difficulty 
Is always the dialogue
Since the majority of characterisation is illustrated through the interactions
According to the unique set of obligations 
In each context
A lot of the symbolism is designed to implicitly 
Give clues about sunflowers 
Are said to represent pure thoughts and loyalty
If a gun is to be introduced in the story it should carry some sort of significance
Later on

The reality that is not 
Really
The experience to be understood or sympathised with
Not just because of the diversity of circumstances that bring about it
But because it is one of the unique human 
Experiences 
That society condemns 
The anecdote of the worker who says they feel authority
Whenever they strip
They capitalize on our desire to be famous
And significant
When we really are not nor can ever become
Therefore the action at the start of the story is a nod to this notion
They have no intention to change the way the world looks
Down on us 
They will spray bullets
To collect the blood
They will pour over 

Our life
Is insignificant we will learn 
On a daily basis
Not all teachers are fit for teaching 
When they walk onto our bodies scattered about on the dirty floor
Starving to be mopped then soaked in poison cleaners 
If we want
They can be our biggest hecklers
Money is just the medium to acquire the real power of 
The exchange
Some people have to work extra hard and long
Hours will past eventually in the pain or pleasure according to the person 
For the fleeting time that they can afford
How foolish of them to even invest their stinking sweat 
It is also not uncommon for those who are seeking to be deflowered
So should we utilise this frequently that is their stupidity 
Instead of defending the connotations of exploitation 
That the media has long enforced
For our daily feeding 

Demonstration Superfluous

The seasons of the sun
O glorious sun
On Monday morning the heavens
Tantrum upon the earth
A ceiling of green foliage as under the trees
The leaves fall
For each other
A man weeps
A man prays on his knees
A man shrugs his shoulders
Coughing like mad
An old hag hogging attention with arms swung
So hard
So high
With such vigorous force
It looks as if he wants his limbs to fly from
His frame
Into the branches where the flesh and the leaf
Come braided together a shackle of flesh to leaf ratio to tip the scales
In nature’s favour
We will always die sooner
A man runs a marathon with himself  
A man hopes for the animals to feed on his flesh
Like he has fed on them many times a meal of innocent life 
A ball of fur
A sack of meat
An eyeball, an arm, a tail, a leg
In the submission surrender
We shall
So gracefully
A life to feed a life a little selfish