"i been listening to you.... schmooze... you don't arrf speak posher when on duty you little faker..."
And so it is time to leave.
An earlier post - my my that was only yesterday morning, sat in the old jaloppy side of the hidden away
byway.
Nothing to conceivably do that day.
Yesterday
And then a whole year of a day happens in just one day.
Too much for me.
And this it is time for a summary.
And then be gone
Aside
smiling
off-grid
gone and lost.
Because there was never anythiig to
Find
It was there all along
Which was impossible.
So indeed a 'post', an entry which are newspeak words for something which is simply the 'free press' (at last he actually agreed with me)
Of a fountain pen nib upon a page (or in her case 37 i believe it was)
Or a finger which never points at anyone specifically, just doing what fingers were invented for, badly communicating.
And other things.
(but you world of 'culture' ends when the American movie about the 'coda' woman is so badly made - all that woke looking frenetic expression via facial and finger gesture, when the 'civilian' cannot possibly keep up, with any of it....and this it just becomes a performance art ensemble fair dinkum but as for any kind of theme or message, or even story in and of itself, it became only echo chamber self reverential ...a party piece, a chimera, nothing... and yet they will award it awards simply for .... showing, picturing, some supposedly 'other' kind of person.....and if you ask me that is the lowest form of infantilised communication and 'culture' ever..... because the truth of the matter is that a year ago the sublimest year in history [codicils] ended with me and the coda woman .... who.... well sadness is when you truly valued English partner in crime, turns out to be as always nothing and seemingly she too has descended into the depths of depression and ennui....which her earlier Facebook persona was telling us she was all immune to, always.... the end )
So where was I, an undepressed, ever, person has a great memory and yesteraft just after closing the lid of the , machine i never ever stop to think for a millisecond about what i am am penning upon, it came back " Bob moderneyesed.... a line in a poem, a whole webdiary [this] set up for [the luring of] only one fabulous woman, and yet the [blogger.com] 'stats' [ i never usually look at but when i first saw a Sprout looking in a month backk, wowser ...she loves me] say it all...i lost her.... No Sprouts looking in here at all all over Christmas week. She is gone... I failed..."
And as a a writer of sorts i have a duty to always tell the truth, especially about the only woman swho i ever heard speak so gracefully and in such a truly alive way about her many 'failures' which means she is the one that got away... the only one, worth lamenting she got away...
"got away" is an intrusive Epsteinish kind of way to put it ... but then as she was also the only REAL woman i have met for some years, she would be able to take it like a man....
....So much, far far far too much, 'happening' in my life for two years, I forgot:
"i was there too.." or as he would write it being underclass deplorable "i was there to"
To what,
Ends?
As it was if life did end then as it began.
I shall come back to that, but I tested him, down at my footbridge - the most beautiful sot for many a mile, no one else there of course as that would mean being.....not fat, and curious.
"fliez buzzin around your face, mate, blood on your sad ...errlll"
" i can't even touch the books you read or in your case pretended you read for RusselBrandian self glorification.."
hashtag
But then even he wouldn't know
"as it happens fatso I am waiting for a text from the most beautiful woman even if she bats for the other side, to walk across cut glass and make a deal with me, and her partner, accepting mine written proposal to live in their dog kennel and never bite anyone's bum, nor bark or even whimper at her beauty as long as they let me out now and again to be patted and sit in front of their log fire with that doey eye on her like lap dogs do...and never being so presumptuous in thought that i may ever be entitled to her lap, even though the deal is i do their gardening by hand free for the rest of mine life... Trump that chubbie chops.."
Anyway that was live from my riverbank in solitude yesteraft...
And it is true.
And it would be daft to think that just an hour later a recently "toothless old git" like me may have the actual most beautiful woman to walk across cut glass in histiry discussing with me and her ma how i may cut their grass ... but her actually stopping the flow " look you can tell we are interested in you so come on what is your name we won't tell tales or assume anything..."
Now, ( "the clique... I mean you are so ridiculously beautiful they will welcome you in in fact pay for you to be a member..." and if her mum didn't say to her that night, lasternight, " gee love.... that bloke.... to have the affront to chat you up in a way i have never heard in all my years in front of a mum...... and he ferkin drew in the two of us...i really do think we maybe should take him to lunch....anyway we need his truthful knowledge...but did you notice, he got you... your face..at first consternation how dare he be so open about your appearance and poise and grace and then.... gee you warmed to it you started smiling with him...my jaw was dropped at how on earth could anyone be so deft and ... whatever e did i know no one else has ever been so cheeky with you, sober, on a dusky dump of a high st and.... i dont think i have ever seen your eyes expand into a true human loving battle ....with him...." .)
where was I, now...
oh yes yesterday, i forgot something....
But poignant imagery, she may well have been the most absurdly beautiful woman ever especially that lovely jet black air "and dont you know it lassie." but it as her coat. The image will stay with me for the rest of life so powerful, so totemic...
I dont need a camera to remember it for the rest of life. So i must write a poem about it.
But even i thought i may be lying to the half breed... Mister
" oh my.....it is fixed in my thick skull now.... you... that silly manic grin on your face the one i hope you really did give the feds breaking your door down.... when they 'redspotted' you last week for wielding Henry's spout clearing up your buiders mess....with the Yank Master of The Universe over the road [sic].... ... forget them theyre irrelevant in the grand scheme of it all.... and i am sure your manic grin did traumatise them poor little machine gun wielding feds... just you with that Morcambe and Wise show Black and White Minstrels [see i have a superb memory i remeber now i didn't have that name when i came here before...fuck all you wih your hangovers from drinking alone face fdown with your head on your plates].....
" you....arms out all Minstrel show, black and white made you equals a really insipid cappuccino grin.... we cannot wipe off no matter how downright hate-crime bully boy big fat builders belly boy ...headfuck.... you.... tottering over that grin.... face down drunk again you'll still be giggling as your face is well and truly down...in that plate.... it's as good as neigh better than Tangled... if you weren't al;ways asleep with your head face down in your plate mate... bastard hiding foromn us - that's a real 'us' the kind resrved for soul and stable, mates... who try as they may even
yesterday
cannot effoend each other because...
offence is only a mere human foible and we...
well, it is beyond words or thought or anything so called 'sane'..... which of course leaves us with only one word
love"
But i thought i was a lying scumbag...
exaggerating for effect, like Brees, marcustwain22, Astin-Gregory, Desmett, vertainly Belfield and of course The War Room and all that Del Bigbush hyped nonsense, and all the rest..... (except Lottie it has to be said)...
That it was as good as or even marginally better.
But then in the one place, start of the New...
Where i cannot lie (10 hour conversation layby) ...
Nope....
sustainability equals, find a way no matter what to hide yet more hot air that, is of course the answer, if only they would have listened, too....
satire. Always... when perfect.... and let go entirely, is always....
The only answer there ever was...
where Tangled failed and the year of more gifting than ever imaginable some poignant some downright tragic as you may see, here, soon....
But to think i have another thrirty of fourty years with a second helping even better than first...
s'absurd...
how sweet life can be if you stop looking for any answer or what you know you need....
as he was always there of course... you just hadn't net him yet, until you did....
"but Im right fatso..... your song... methinks was always .... well there are no woprds for thieving away such gifts forever nearly just like you do with you but...one day i shall have my say...i do keep a very very accurate full chronicle of our words.... and i know i have only ever met one, as valuable as you.... too late in all probability but if anyone ever said owt to her young cappuccino or whatever you lot use as pityterm when my tan is better than yours any day..... for her, any foibles ever about her hue, us, the recordings, would for her, be...... the perfect....remedy...as laughter always in and i never really knew that live, in person... endlessly even by text all the night days on end in the duel to hurt and offend.....these last 18 months ..... .... til i met....
buggered if i shall ever go back and reread mine words, even ear....
Because so many memories in just two years....
sublime ones, [always the good version of]; poignant ones... and then the laughing ones
I mean her laughter from her belly a few weeks back and her mum even told me last week " ... chap... [always she calls me that you cannot lie to a fuckin mad horserin' harridan of a woman..nor ever expect charm from them, thank god...] .... oh when she laughs.... she keeps goin' on she thought you. it.. that thing you did , were so funny she near broke a tooth she couldn't control her belly from laughing so much....... "
And then, well it was impossible there were to be hald a dozen of them...le grandi bellezze (why is it not 'les' ? i don't get languages they make it so inconsistent despite all being from Dante ...
Anyway one digresses, behind her mask - Le Primo...or is it 'la'? surely tiz, as i only like female ones ....
But of course such a thing of beauty visually and nazally is of course harbinger of great unbeaty in what will happen to their planet ...
oh well there is a moral in that somehwre... I have far far far too many sublime serene and beautiful memories in just two years to actually recall what was happening three months ago, so far too much keeps happening, which i never sought, which oif course is the only 'moral' one ever needs to know about....
shit happening will have either a smell that makes you recoil in disgust, or a sweeter lingering aroma that makes you smile forever, just depends on your perception....
humans really are such silly billies, compared with things like ferrets.
And as usual despite those whom will do one down for an assumed 'rhythm' ....lesser... (she should know she has serious competition - Little Miss Dog Kennel.. even if that's likely more beauty over total sprit-appeal...)
Mine rhythm, is as always, come a sunny day, today....allays off to my fave riverside spot. Not even any mobile phone signal there no point, even the wisest of them all will just assume...
Now, the last of the 'now' pictures, like this second, now...
The sublimest stretch of hidden away byway ever, where the other....stuff..... gets uploaded. As it is the only good signal spot for miles too. Which is in fact the only reason I am here - not here here, nor alive here, just in such an always even more splendid than ever mood.
Even if of course spot the deliberate error in that January the first the gorse really really should not be flowering and even a whiff of natural scent is perceptible.
and being there is hardly anyone for miles, we can road test once more, it...
I mean there are dozens of new 'its' and i didn't even know of this one until only a few weeks ago. But i mean what a way to begin the most glorious (excepting every second ever spent with mine own lass, even the very few seconds over a decade that seemed like hours when so rarely things were a bit hard-work, that lengthening of the moment because it was all you ever actually cared about ever, and every second spent with Katrina's little nippers, as... they did from second number 1, actually change me..) year in history - except those kid-duty years of those seconds, every one i still remember.....just as i do all recall all of about 25000 seconds on a plane four years ago of me talking too much... which any sane woman knows is only when they are rather liked... for the right reasons.
Anyway where was I, oh yes....
I mean what a most glorious (minus codicils) year in history and just as this was being allowed out, the catastrophic gloriousness ("sorry Mister bank my business is buggered") came to pass in six weeks of unstopping torrential rain which provided then every single excuse a person could not even dream up, for basically saying the lot of you are lost and i wish never again to have any part of you, which one assumed would lead to almost instant homelessness... two years ago....
I mean ... it was simply impossible i would get away with that....
Then, to bhe only a few months later every day cycling no hands on the old sit-up-and-beg girlies bike .... on an even more deserted byway - this...
So free it is absurd, in the rent paying dept, too... but free in a far far more real-life way, fait accompli, a gift...
And the pictures i hjave are not really that poignant cos they are so absurdly freedom and sunshine every day...
And then there is the film... taken here Mayish 2020...
Anyway what a memory, and every single reason for knowing 2020 was certainly the most glorious year in history (usual cods..)
And that little footbridge - half a mile yonder from here. My new home not because i was not wanted at the old, but because, well, there are pictures...
Of paradise...
Both in the drives, and so deeply etched into the minds eye, it is the ultimate gift...
But i shall never forget the first time, wandering down to the riverspot, and she was there with her little ones playing in the mud...
I mean Huckleberry Fin meets Secret Garden meets Ring of Bright Water, and not a cynical Lord of The Flies in sight...
except those gathering on my sweaty bicycle seat being it was the warmest sunniest May ever in history... 2020...
But moaners will always be moaners so that is only for me to remember and smile (even today's iteration i mean what a bizarre New Years eve thing to happen...)
Moan: "... no... first time out.... t'wasn't that well presented... nahhhh hyped up bullshit.....all 'first's are overrated....
But on the 100th road testing listen and you have to have the most perfect zen and centred peace ever to really be able to say for absolute certainty "fuckit.... truth... better than any other version released ever.... Jeus what a year .... you even get the best ever this...:
...i mean fuck me..... this is absurd, even Mister Taleb and his third greatest book of this century in two words, Black Swan..... who wouldn't know self-pity if she jumped into the lake and mounted her [i have always assumed she was a she that day at that lake, then] with a large horsewhip and rode her off into the sunset in pain.....
"could not predict this reaction to .... their ...'shock'.... that's sustained throughout ebvery sexcond even the baddies.....no matter what..... and must be rit ...soon as ... the memory of it is real soulfood and i never uyse that silly word.....eeva..."
Indeed it is more than enough for the year, or a lifetime:
His look...yesterlateaft:
some years so straightaced and professional in his poise, or pose, in respect of myself and engagements so...
polite and anodyne
(the word of the year)
"well my side of the 'border'.... ehhhmmm... your side what are they doing on Boxing Day? is it ...ehhmmm I lose track except i keep track of your First Minister on the wireless for...laughs...talk about give a man a microphone and anything can happen...
"it's like back to the eighteen hundreds....my my how he loves to close down your seditious nighttime activity.....me I don't care always far to much to do the next day to ever bother staying up after nine but i just giggle every time..
" yes he ... his lectern.him and his lectern.... well weve had a fuck nuf .... all the FACS say flu yet.... back to prohibition... temperance. we really are getting sick of this...."
To hear a man who never knowingly expressed an opinion as it may tarnish his trademark....express an opinion, means that at last humanity has returned....
The other website started in 2020 called www.xxx2020.com...well that was about silverest linings, but i didn't think anyone else would really get it....until he did.
Now i can die in perfect poignant sublime, peace. Shame his face could not be pictured because it's the CONtext that matters....context is all. Which makes a snap so limited, unless of course you do indeed tell the 'story' too.
which is the art....how do i weave a story into so many good pictures? Picturebooks are for children. Real women write REAL books like Rachel's - the only goddess who learned pity does not only not sell but teaches us nothing. Ever...
Just before i get back to the most poignant possible pictures...
Which 'ceased'
with the picture of a library a few weeks ago, I haven't yet got to in the 'sequence' - there is always a sequence... the poets cannot know as I have studied them and they are so full of sugary self pity;
There is only poetry in making something from nothing. And no hope. And certainly no moaning, ever, no matter how mindfuckingly poignant (oh the way she said that 'm' word....who was that? too much happens in my life when i wish nothing at all, only stillness, as now....since way way way before dawn...
Now....this is what it WAS mindfuckingly ...about....
But there's only ONE ghood bit.....where the. one assumes, dusky ladies come in with their "dance......"
shivvers up the spine even if far too sat-down.... for a dance...
but love means no matter what, luv....
And bad childhood attachments - the key to all going uptits, means the fuckwits of youtube ... cannot even manage to tell me a few hours ago that the act of pure love (ongoing) is suspended because after reaching my upload limit they cannot even program their silly little windows to say "start again matey".....no they are just stuck.
But forget about them and the bad poets all them moaners even mister Nobel imself....
Moan....
There is only one key to life which is to do the... work... idyllic communist style work which is who gives a toss about money or hours, or days of work....you jkust work in sequence...when the time is right.
And the weather.
But most of al the energy.
And even if it is hard to put without seeming insane, nope.... energy and sequence mean the same - even if you get a message from the only woman in the world you feel genuinely you could....and did.....love... nope....don't open it until I (that should be in big font with flashing neon)
am...ready....
until it is kairos time....
soon...
No one can write poetry about that as it is poetry in motion, or indeed inaction...
And is the only action or inaction in life that is truly beautiful.
So, nothing happened, as of a few weeks ago. Here i mean...and there is nothing worse than someone with a bad internet connection thinking in any way they ..matter..
Or should be pondered or given a millisecond of attention...
Unless they really do have something mindfuckingly tragi-beautiful, to show...
That isn't made up. And anyone else would have died from it's so ....sorrowful.
Which is my job, sharing such unpitiful FACT... fact Rachel fact..
Life is only fact everything else is you assuming bollocks in your digital masturbation
(oh Penny....she was wrong but one never has the time, as Neruda so wisely said "a conversation does not begin until we have been speaking an hour"....no the people are not stuck in 'fear', they just don't know there are only two states, the first being being fairly stuck and lost and extremely rarely 'fearful' - ask Ms Ginsberg the great writer..., and the second, post losing ...well i heard yesterday how she too lost her daughter that's why a decade back she had so little to say to me and i did love her ... post fuckery others call ridiculous words like the trendy 'trauma' or vulnerability - that doesnt even dignify parentheses as it has just become a club.... post true loss, you are in stage two of life.... the only other stage there is. And you don't go back to that other, which is far lowert a stage - yopu can see nothing over the heads of the noisy ones in the front... on that higher stage heck you wobble maybe even have vertigo for years.....but my my how much further back into the bowels of it all, you do see...
and making that poetry...
well maybe they dont think there is money
innit..
in other words poets are lowest common denominator prostitutes...
so we better try and rejig poetry... that's a bit grandiose. Almost committable...(loony, yellow van stuff.... hahh hahh i met Ms Denbigh yesterday what a day!)
But you see i have my...'tapes'...
Oh my they are good...
The best is just for me a day on a plane...
Maybe one day we go there.
But for now...
Before i return to the actual project which is so mindfuckingly poignant imagery from about seven years ago to about a month ago....
Even if Ms digital ...well i was rather surprised but i know what i want...
And why...
Yesterday. There is a whole lifetime of ... well an actual good poet who doesn't need the greatest backing singers ever in history to prop him up....carry him...neigh make him ...
And after a decade or more of being a tad "Jewish" to actually quote my Jewish real friend so i didn't say that....
And adamantly footstamping his way to making more money out of the greatest backing singers except Roberta and Axl's other one...
And at last in this glorious year of paradise poignancy when...i even got a fuck off message from her last night....no doubt...
In the most paradise year in history when even yestereve the barman (one beer a year) in Wales said "this getting fuckin Nazi.." hahhh hahhh what gloriousness....
Except last year...
Due to her smile even if her mum doesnt include me in the Crimbo drink any more...
maybe just because i asked her something you only ask of someone you really do value and...trust..
Anyway ...at last after years of it being blocked off The Tube and one has to pop obver to Dailymotion, he relents.....
"wheels off and burn.." Pen... wheels off and burn...
But that's not poetry...
Thuis is even if first hurried draft,
yesteraft as I am roaming the aisles of the Oop....
looking for yellow labels or are they orange..
He calls.
A month after his phone slamming down.
A man of not only higher 'religion'. But also a many year aficionado of the bard he once slagged of for his co-self identification 'type'....
being mean when Zeppelin and everyone else that mattered for years had let it all up for free except Hendrix' daughter for some curious reason...
So he calls...
bit of a surprise
Meant to be 'wise'
offers cash
offers food
but how can a man not be of the ...
mind
To know that once he was asked
Asked the wrong word
For
all i wished indeed was if i popped mine clogs you would be the one
to have a word
All was well
fear not
and a friend, so so many hours in chat and debate
so many years - well near on ten actually
that a friend of the cloth
(for cash) or one should say treasurer at his local 'Temple'
and The Bard
Someone who listens to that so called 'Bard'
cannot understand what a compliment that is
Cannot understand it is all one man
wants from one man
when he has grown up.
" I changed my bank..."
"no need my friend anyway i have never had more than i have today..."
That one invests so so much in so much of someone and never mind them not even realising what a true compliment it is asking them to be official witness, they don't even understand how complimentary that always was.... and that they
Well, pride is a funny word.
Was it pride that had him call?
Was it some bizarre setting that is forget the past no matter what
and pay off ones past sins even if they were not
according to him
who cannot listen
"i would not have one millisecond of my life other
than it is
because only the way it was and
is
is why i found even a lesson and poetry in ...
that ultimate Wasteland in your ...
well what is it, Judas...denied his so called boss thrice....fuckin fairytales...
that from you is so so much better and furthermore it is real and
in the Vault thrice
No matter what.
Back to only pictures any moment now.....
except one small problem being 'young' not that i wish to remain so is about every day awaking and knowing there are half a dozen utterly wonderful completely different things that just possibly could happen..
when yestermorn there were absolutely no things at all ever going to happen again..
But never ever moaning about either.
And only one poet really doesn't ...ever...
And all through the glorious paradise times from March the twentyfifthish twenty twenty in the year of oh lord i have the planet to myself... who gives a fuck about them any more...if they wish to sulk....and then ALL these new fiends here in the middle of nowhere....
.. and every second since....,
One's ...hymn....
well except for Tammy
"Tammy ... our joint goddess... Her Minnieship..... i have road tested your 1990 which means a thousand luistens walking the hills all the rest of the fuckwits moaning below.... i cried yesterday on the thousandand oneth listen.... because Tammy you.... you really were i have now decided .... you were BETTER than her..... I mean it was impossible to ever find anyone better than her .... ever. and in the year of our Lordless travelling but one date only..... i get mine with the Actual Queen...."
There's a 'mission', a quest, a Homeric Odd Essay....
(you have to have him in your fingers and there was only ever one 'him'....him in the tips of yer fingers = now in the dark... the mists swirl, the rains lash....
But then at last yesterday, i met her again...Penny ..we can name her as i told her " ...in the front of it if i ever write it.... the tales of seven years of their fake care... there will be a line, ' for Penny .... the only one who had the bright eyes to tell it like it is and she alone kept me going '..... and i mean it, lass, you alone.... spoke truth to power the power in question being all your town mates pretending they care about the animals of the hills and ....[to be continued as she made me live again]"..This Quinn roams with no plan and just lives in the moment when the moment comes....always happy.....but then sometimes one has to knuckle down and do the bloody hard work: fifty gigabytes.... it is all very good if you can absolutely let go and just be, in the moment, with them....but bugger me, what a malarkey just to find a signal .... and be so absurdly organised as to flip into work mode the moment one does. Because love, means, always, always no matter what... and i know one thing for sure, when I am gone, a few Odysseys i undertook, partook, of as one was never alone... meaning in the consciousness sense even if the 'connected consciousness of the universe' does not stop my local high-in-the hills huge sanctuary badger set I alone knew existed as i can track animals, and film them covertly, and then film the religious bigot churchwarden cunt who takes money to be an actual environmental steward.... bulldoze many live cubs 18 months ago.... and Penny alone knew it is US - no one else, us, at fault for never gathering in solidarity to make sure actual law is enforced "Pen if i grabbed your very-cute-for-a-65-year-old Bertrandineish bum... in the street, now, you would rightly have me in the assizes and shamed all over the local newspapers... because it is against law people died to have in the statutes.... and yet law that protects these protected animals....no one will ever actually help us....and the worst of the lot the ones who have websites saying they are saviours of the beats when they don't even have the mannners to reply to a quite sane message stating one could do with some help prosecuting actual holocaust stuff in the hills....with splendid actual filmic evidence..... Pen... forget this sceptic aisle..... i did all i could and now do need to be off..... sooner or later....as soon as i can marry an EU passport ...ooops Miss Taken Identity....find someone who actually meant what they say...")
The it has come back....
Asleep high up in the hills. Not even a full 7 1/2 hours.... UTC
To awake in the bleak nothing, high up, parked in a huge puddle ... great for an early morning wash always the sleepiness...
and recall "i wonder who that was at 2130ish UTC...
"pinging me
"ahh my usual conceit - too damn holier than thou
"to ever open a message after bedtime to make my point...
"only ever interested in anything that will affect my next few hours
"and no one keeps me up after my allotted bedtime...
"ever..
" I know who i am... and how far away she lives"
What a badly written preamble to, all that matters:
Some weeks rather letting slip standards.
Exactly where, several years, I wanted to be.
At last I get there.
Home.
Is knowing there is nowhere worthy of calling 'home'.
In this fetid Isle.
And being absolutely nowhere up high here
where i needed to be.
Is exactly the right place to be.
But then where's the old 'me'.
That simplest energised love of a bit of tidying up first thing.
Be it tidying away the mud of the hills or the waste of time messages cluttering the digital desktop.
That takes a certain kind of 'energy'... not giving a fuck. About the Pharisees and Sadducees - modern iteration, the two faced holier than thou oh how they adore their masks...
so called educated middle classes....people of 'culture' and even books...
("Pen.... they even pretend they read..... they'll have Silent Spring on their shelves but i bet the pages are as rigid from underuse or never-use, as their fuckin god given sex drive...")
None of which ever gets me down, but one does want sometimes to get back up to splendid tidying ones new cave energy levels...
And ... the key to life only is, past fifty, having the time to just smile more than smile absolutely feel the joy of wishing nothing more than the simplest nothing and everything in a moment of great energy joy and ....well it is that bubbling up of fiz in the gut that feels so nice... having the time to live it, enjoy it...
And then get cleaning because YOu want to....
That wasn't going to come back....
And then...it did. Here, now.... and that is all a human being ever needs. Watch out sheepies...
But then how did i forget him?
Who needs a home, but i do know one thing, above all
of you...
courtesy of a random feed from the algorithms unless they peek into my other 'identities' i thought were 'firewalled'....
I know my home is anywhere.... (even there yestereve how lovely that was i haven't done that years.... I am ready now.... )
But i also know only the older gals and geezers ever have any real...
SOUL...
innem....
"Pen....soul.... your bright eyes plus soul....you now that only soul gets you through this wasteland of cant and vanity especially their fuckin self regarding nonsense they stick on their facebook... "
And i had looked for her two years.
Now as i messaged the rev who confided in me she doesnt believe in her 'boss'
and she started it all - or this phase...
last night
" i roam.... but your graveyard is the only one i want to rest in... so i better save up for a plot...."
All of which is my business but i do know old gits with soul.....
are the only authentic so called conscious thing on the planet.
except there was always a first...equal...draw...
shame the writer murdered badgers for fun... (VERY accurate journalsim from last year discovered)
But then ... the art is the art... the artist is indeed often a complete fraud...
Because you, simply wouldn't 'get' this, especially if you think Nomadland was a goodish movie. Which is no offence not cheeky quip. it is just true. The truth is that being 'aside' - i have these words many a year pondered and practiced on myself if no one else. Aside.
It is not 'freedom', it is however 'energy' - good energy no matter what.
And a pan of mussels always tastes so much more alive and of the moment and simply raw life, even when splendidly cooked, and stored without even the need for a fridge
But all that matters is that even I thought that the poetry will not return - how can it? distractions and ducking and diving
To do
But then it did.
And thus it is time soon when the animals are saved, to return to actually ultra poignant photojournalisng a period; up to November this year.
That if only she would let me take her for a walk, even she must appreciate - no one can live through such sorrow and hurt, and bleakness....day in and out a decade and more...
And...well she heard me yesterday, shine at the stall of The Kat man...
I could see her jaw dropped even if her back was turned away from him and I...
....ohhh my oh my it's come back, sleeping aside...
aside ... the graveyard.
As The Brexit man resigns his post...
pure poetry, and even he
the pigtailed Ausie he did not agree.
"but how can you have had the happiest two years of your life...? "
"lookere cobber.... i only have one regret ... despite off to be Quinn, and never glib as i have tragedy
"and ALWAYS constant as you know.... no one gets to me not even your High Street Pharisees and Sadducees generally these days in designer gear and with her Waitrose Bag.....
" you could make it up the glory and loveliness of now being free
"totally...
"But piggytale..... don't you understand... even if the official register would put folk like me in the Aristocracy upper clas as I
"read... actual books rather than box set pap...
" shame....shame hurts
"confected vulnerability for PBS radio four programs and the like hurts the confectee...
"but shame hurts every day in ways that are imperceptible and ... cripple and cause ringworm and bad toothache...
"and all sorts as i read actual real science and the great man said 'we do not know'.... what causes the human lifeforce to interact with the otherforces and make us...
"live longer according to their 'data'.... not mine their'n....
" to use the official Malcom Gladwell approved term even if he stole it from me as i rhetoricised it a good few years before anyone else...
"the bottom third....
"ringworm infested scrofulates... drug addled cowpol addicts... the fat.... the fat unless they go to their gyms rather than dance with me up the hills...
" the poor the prejudiced against denied a real job...
"the homeless, who cannot write bad poetry at the drop of a hat on autopilot..
"the shame..... they lived it within, aside, a parrot on their shoulder always...
"one little bad flu sniffle and....
"just like that as if it's a New Dawn .... and lets hope it's forever....
"gone...
"now if only they could overcome theoir pandemic of borderline persona dosirder and stop ordering crap off the line and ....figure....as Mister Montaigne once said if i could ever find the stillness to plough through his canon...
"How to Live....
"because just likethat their shame..... is gone
"and the less lost and dumbed down know deep down they don't even have to pretend to ne mentally very ill for welfare payments....as there's no one left to pretend to....
18 Dec 2021
So, as i said, it was 'for' them. But what now?
I guess it was her lippy lips. Said it all. Ahh i comes back :-)
And at last, i got there and what a fable; what a parable, what a midful moment, from no 'menu' as usual. The opposite, it's the opposite that matters.
The poor opposites. My my i did not realise there were so many ...of them.
Just yesterday afternoon, oops this is meant to be only about a few poignant weeks. Late November this year into this December. And then (oops that should have been a semi colon); and then... the
(put it on the Anik song...loud....funny thing my speakers seem to like, only...it)
The Wasteland up to it all. The happiest possible poignancy ever, bit could I se it to fix.... her..... m one little maybe true friend' these last year or so, which are forever and she is....saudade...
Ooops there i go living in the 'moment' again, even if I think Monday afternoon will do.
"i assume you are a couple?....one of my business"
But entering Oddessayists, last year of the dodecadent duo where the dues are due.... when you actually meet Helen....
of Sparta...as one becomes the ultra Spartan.... it's time for a bit of abduction.... cos that's not nature al..... but we can come to a compromise to be fully new age of wonkiness, compliant.... because i knowa poignant image and..... it is even more perfectly poignant when you encounter it in the very worst place in the world...
which if you ask me is the best definition of poignant there is. That said, Je suis loyal. Le premier poème parfait - surely that's La premiere if it was Helen the first ..... about the most abducted babe in history, well nearly....
