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My Regards to Missus Smithson
I don’t blame them for what they do
Parading around like clowns in dower gowns
Thrusting their dissatisfaction into the faces of others
It is not the quietest of methods they’ve adapted to
I’ll grant you that
But it’s out of pure desperation – of that I am sure
For I know Missus Smithson from a time further before
She was widowed.
Her and her husband, God bless his soul, were a fine pair around town
Always dancing in the streets, sharing their wealth with the crowds
They were. Her husband brought a lot of wealth to a lot of people
Oh how she cracked when he was found
Still clutching a barrel. Lifelessly laid on the tides breeding ground.
She was soon penniless, had to find a smaller pitch of land
His burial saw the last of their wealth go
Her tears have flowed ever since that day - now seven years ago
She lost her placement, found out who were and who her friends weren’t
I never thought she would sell herself like that
It’s a dire means to an end.
But in all honesty I salute her
For I know how painful loss can be
So come here Missus Smithson - I’ve got a crown or two for thee.
©17/18 Oct 2005 by A.J.Smazogz
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M e t a l l y D e r a n g e d
I was at High school
Waiting for Electronics to begin
Talking with a few mates
One of them had recorded a tape for me
Megadeth one one side
Metallica on the other
My avenue into heavy metal begins
Listening to their high speed guitars
And bumpy, thumpy drums
With vocals highlighting subjects
Normally unassociated with Pop
Telling truer stories
Of this world and what it has got
Dave Mustaine and James Hetfield
With associates put music together in a way
That I had never heard
I was instantly addicted
To this hyper-speed, metallic dirge
Like a drug - I craved more and more
The faster the better - the deeper the roar
Over the years this music has given
Both pleasure and pain
Traits associated with living
That most like to brush under the carpet
After 18 years of listening to this row
I've turned into a metally deranged freak
After almost 2 decades
The metal raging beast in my mind still never sleeps
Taking me to a point, then beyond
Into a hellish domain of being
Where humans are purged like blood from cattle
Stuck firm in dark and pessimistic prattle
With bare truth served as the dish of the day
In torturous fields - on the other side of enjoyment……..
…Namely (and unluckily for us all) decay… !
But what is the attraction
What makes me feel as if I have to be here
It is because I know what it is to be unhappy and deranged
Myself - speaking retrospectively
Before I had discovered my mind's own inner wealth
So now when I revisit that unholy yet sacred realm
I emit the light that I know shines from me
Into the chaos and uncertainty
With a flashing spiral from my mind
I fraternise and play with the dark Gods of yesteryears
In mental processes enhanced by grunted vocals
Trying to make sense of the twisted, hyper speed muddle
Escaping from the normal confides of everyday social activity
To remove the cloaking surrounding the essence of being
Like a lightening rod with my hair stood on end
I add to the dark unknown powers that embellish this planet
Like the oceans
I am a metally deranged person
There is no doubt about that
And in all honesty because without banging and clashing
This wouldn't be this and that wouldn't be that
I’m truly MeTaLLy DeRanGed
…..and …….I'm very f*&^ing proud of the fact
©‘Smazogz’ 30th June 2006
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M U S H R O O M L A N D
The mushroom land
Crafted by an infants hand
Slowly the roof is constructed
The ingenuity & concentration
Of Man’s next generation
From a young mind’s invention
On a knee height log
His kingdom expands
Walls made of nails
Hammered with delicate precision
What shall we create for our world next?
Their minds express their minds indecision
A piece of wood
Triangular in shape
Into their developing dimension
More things take shape
Branches for the trees
Acorn cups of mushroom land
Attentions are diverted elsewhere
The whole building process stops
A tealight placed in amongst the
Rectangle building.
Darkness falls, the glimmering,
Flamescent glow. Glows.
For the rest of the evening
Words : ‘Smazogz’+ input from FIZZYWIG
Whilst on holiday at Epping 220803
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M A D N E S S A N D T H E L I K E
Madness is a weak mans form of anger
Insanity is not being able to admit one own prayer
Badness is ever burdening – rarely letting go
They seed visual pollutants – mind rejects the show
Fingers click, brain foresees conflict
Dignity salutes independence
Lowliness seeks independence
Irrationality – the unlearned person’s tool
Like the man in the Beetles song – a hill bound fool
Life is too short to argue and rabbit
The days not long enough for a game of scrabble
Unable to see through walls that don’t exist.
Anxiety breaches the freedom we ourselves contain.
©A.J.Smazogz 13th September 2005
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M A N I A C M I N D T O Y
D R A U G H T E D B Y M A N I A C S
B U I L T B Y W H I T E C O A T S
P I O N E E R E D I N T O P S E C R E T
I N H U L L S O F M I L I T A R Y B O A T S
D R O I D S A B L E T O W A L K U N D E R T H E S E A
T E N T H O U S A N D T O N N E S O F D I S P L A C E M E N T
O B L I V I O U S T O N E G O T I A T I O N
D E A F T O L A M E N T
L I K E A 2 0 0 F O O T T A L L S U B M A R I N E
W I T H A 5 0 I N C H B O R E S U B–M A C H I N E G U N
I T M A K E S T O T H E S H O R E
W I T H M I S S I L E S T O D E P L O Y
T O M A K E
C O L O U R F U L A N I M A T I O N S O F G O R E
WORDS BY : ANDREW “SMAZOGZ” 06-101004
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MASKED LUNATIC
Filth and decay
False prophecies pray
Leaving thr past
In festering disarray
Prominent features
Meet unqualified teachers
Wanna be preachers
Council fund leachers
Town hall mannicured
Town wall ridiculed
Promises sketched on paper
Local population fooled
Waste laid to rest
Down back alley ways
Out of sight of cash laden tourists
On off beaten tracks depravity crumbles
Away like the history of the town
Getting me and all concerned down
MASKED LUNATIC
Remember me?
Thought not
Well, I remember you
I'm gonna cook your bollocks like dumplings
I'm gonna boil up your guts like stew
I'll choke on your gristle
I'll writhe on your fat
I'll spew you back up into nettles and thorns
You piss exuberating twat
I
Can remember you laughing
Laughing
At me expense
After another night of alcoholic abuse
You'll awaken in burning recompense
The grease in your hair catches promptly
Disfiguring the already grotesque
Motor bikes explode
Rivalry between gang goes into overload
Size of the outlanding group starts to corrode
Burning bodies splat under lorries travelling the road
So that's one all now
I've evened the score
Leaving you to perish
In a burnt skin of leathery gore
The masked lunatic - has laid many to rest
The masked lunatic - eradicates the pest
The masked lunatic - removes what we detest
The masked lunatic - presents an unwinnable test
The masked lunatic - hunts those who pray
The masked lunatic - moves at night and sleeps by day
The masked lunatic - will never stop until the guilty have paid
The masked lunatic - gives you your final grade
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MEMORIES HOLD US BACK
When faces were younger
With eyes less old
When the world was an exciting, unexplored playground
When your body worked optimally and you didn’t feel the cold
Back when garden walls were taller than you
Back when the rest of the world’s inhabitants looked like giants
Back when slides, swings and climbing frames never grew tiresome
Memories hold us back – as thoughts of pleasure evolve into pain
Memories hold us back – as we want the things we knew and loved back again
Memories hold us back – it’s fact.
Possessions that we look at – but never use
They link us to the past, a deep strength in our mind casts
Holding us back, putting us back, shifting us around at will
Nelson’s column is seen from Bollard Quay along Southtown Road
I’m transported back to when I was sixteen and in First Love
The fifteen years previously seem to have not existed
I didn’t look that different back then
I was a trillion seconds away from any of my hairs turning grey
I probably had to shave once a week back then
...And here I stay mentally, as all associated aspects propogate my mind...
Without any due attention I continue along the Malted Way
Memories hold us back – there’s no disputing that
With them we feel the strongest power that we have
By: Andrew ‘Smazogz’ 200804 1130
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MEMORIES OF FAITH
The world is always spinning
So they say
The seasons differ
But in essence remain the same
Flies, butterflies & sun beetles pass
Are they working or playing?
I get my ears up close to them
But no matter how hard I try
I cannot hear what they are saying
Looking up
Then out to sea
Different emotions roll over me
I feel a part of this world and
At one with myself
The clay on which I sit
Millennia old
Its outer layer warm and crumbly
Its inner furnaceable and cold
My mind rolls like the waves near by
Along the coastal shores
Where I reside
Until darkness falls
©SMAZOGZ 090604
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M IL E H IG H W A VE S
ENDLESS ROTATIONS
IRRELEVANT QUESTIONS
THE WORLD SPINS AWAY WITH THE YARN OF TIME
SPLINTERING PAINLESSLY
BLACK HOLE, SPIRALLING REALITY, ROLLING AWAY
METEORS SPLASHING INTO THE PACIFIC
NO WHERE SPECIFIC
FLASH FLOODS, HIGH TIDES, MILE HIGH WAVES
THE AMOUNT OF LAND UNDERWATER – HORRIFIC
THROUGH THE SEASONS, BEYOND THE FOUR WE KNOW
IN CONCLUDED THEORETICAL DATAISMS OUR KNOWING GROWS
BUT WHAT USE IS PREDICTION?
ONLY MAKING US AWARE OF MASS HUMAN CRUCIFICTION
THEN WE HAVE TO ASK OURSELVES –
IF THE VOICE WITH THE POWER HAS MADE THE RIGHT DECISION
INFINITE ORBITS – RETREADING
MILE UPON MILE OF CARPETED CORRIDOR TREADING
THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS – EXPRESSING – HOW MUCH THEY’RE DREADING
OUR UNIVERSE AS WE KNOW – TOO COMPLEX TO OUR MINDS FOR RETHREADING
UNDRAINABLE, UNOBTAINABLE, BUT JUST MAYBE ~ TRAINABLE
WHO KNOWS WHAT POWERS WE’LL ATTRIBUTE, FUTURE TENSE
OF A TENSE FUTURE
BEHOLD OUR PRESENT, OUR PRESENCE
OUR PERSECUTIONER OR OUR RECOMPENSE?
Written by & ©: Andrew Smazogz Sept 11th 2003 ea 18:33
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