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TWISTED SPIRAL
Written by : Andrew 'Smazogz' July 2003
Twisted spiral
You are just a line
Coiled up
Space saving?
Twisted spiral
Dizzy fool
Stretched to full length with a
Tensile testing tool
Twisted spiral >
Straight line > chorus
No difference >
Twisted spiral
Weighted winch
Edge of seats
Outside, inside
Stay away
Moring, afternoon
Refrain from asking to play
Moonlight, sunlight
Travel too far
Pluto, neptune
One, three four
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
T H E H I E R A R C H Y
O F D O M I N A T I O N
Words: © Andrew ‘Smazogz’
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Man can be Master. Man can be slave
But never the King of what he is trying to save
Man can be bad. Man can be good
But he can Master no disguise, no matter the fineness of his hood
Man can move mountains. Some seek an eternity within
But the particles of all standing structures
Wither – under the rules of Cronos
After a few millennia - they are Gonnos
Man can control machines. Man has the power to make monsters
But out of all the somber tolls encountered nature outperforms them all
Man can create things a billion times his own weight
Man has split what he essentially is, but
What he has spilt he cannot absorb
Man controls many. But what controls man?
The hierarchy of domination is in whose hands?
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ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
T H E L E A R N I N G P O E M
How are we to read what is not written in words?
How are we able to understand the cats and the birds?
How are we to learn what we do not yet know?
Do you know Jabe?
No, neither do I
I love to learn though. Finding out can be good fun
I try to learn something new everyday, under both moon and sun
I may learn from my one of my books or a computer game or a video
The Hungry Caterpillar, Fireman Sam, Putt-Putt, Pingu and Tiny Planets
.
Whether it be from my teachers & Teaching Assistants
Or from Mum’s and Dad’s
Or Nanna’s, Grandma’s, Granddad’s, Aunt’s and Uncle’s and
Great Grandparents all help us along.
My Granddad who is 76 still teaches me things and I am 31
People never stop learning.
No matter how old or young they are
My oldest friend is called Earnest. He is an amazing 89
He tells me things that really interest me
It can be surprising how much a person can teach you
I hope who ever reads this is still learning
So:-
How are we to read what is not written in words?
By concentrating with our brains and
By learning how to control our brains
How are we able to understand the cats and the birds?
Cats and birds are different sorts of life.
They cannot help us to read or write,
However, they are a very important part of our world.
How are we to learn what we do not yet know?
This is the most complicated question.
To do this we need to learn from everything we can
Sometimes this can take a very, very long time to do
But if we concentrate extra hard then we will win
Finishing off all the questions wearing a big, happy grin
By:- Andrew Smazogz 241104
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TEAR WASHED STONES
By : Andrew ‘Smazogz’ 240103 ea1730
HARD LIKE ROCK
COLD LIKE SNOW
FROZEN SOLID
NO WINDS BLOW
STOOD STILL
STARING
EYES DRY
LONESOME SKY
TWINKLE GONE
ISLAND SUNK
CONDEMNED FOREVER
BOTTOM BUNK
LIVING
MOTIONLESS
HOPELESS
EMOTIONLESS
CARCASS BAKING
UNFRIENDLT SUN
THE STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN
THE ESCULATOR TO HELL
? WHICH ONE AM I ON ?
FEELING CROSS
ON A CROSS
SHAPE OF THE CROSS
STERILE IMPURITY
LOSS
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE FOURTH CHAPTER
We start as babies
Swaying like Weetabix in a field
We lunch as teenagers
As our blooms yield
We grow into adults
Like roast Sunday dinners
We evolve into cups of Horlick’s
Furthest away from beginners
My appetite is not satisfied
Is it not my time to go
My old walnut brain is agile
Yet the rest of my faculties run slow
I started as an unseen ideology
Fingers and toes evolve. Womb bound
A foetus developing focus
Long gone are the close heart beat sounds
I grew from a baby into a child
Learning almost as much as I could
Then from a child into a man
To a place where my own Father once stood
I had to start shaving
Chest hairs grew
I felt as if I knew more when I was younger
How can this be true?
It’s one of the many things I ponder
As I look out of my bungalow’s patio window
Into the yonder
Sitting here this way
Lost in thoughts of my own device
Looking back I have always been an absconder
Written by ‘Andrew Smazogz’ for a good friend ‘Earnest Peaford’
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE AR-GONE-AUT
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Physical matter depleted
Heart’s beating life – defeated
Breathing no more
A historic face from before
Unhappiness looms
Cremations, tombs
Ash in a marble urn
Flesh and friendship burn
Eyes keep leaking
Cannot forget the loss
A martyr, a friend
A master, a boss
Not here for years
But never far away
Will we meet again ?
I hope there shall be such a day
Tears, lightly salted cheeks
Ancestors, come and go every week
Memories of loving achievements
Notes eternally recorded onto parchments
Dear, oh dear, oh dear
I feel like crying again
To compose another tune with you
Would quosh our pains
But no. Not meant to be
Jase – you argonaut
I hope you are in the place
You wanted to be.
19th Nov 2003
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The Chasm of Infinitely Descending
& Unchangeable Conclusions
Our chariots ride
Our mechanisms slide
Our wheels clutter over the dust road stones
Until we get to the edge ~ cliff top groans
High ranks ~ underneath you
Category ~ unable to defeat you
Falling ~ the million mile drop
No arms long enough ~ to hold on to you
Falling endlessly, vacuum packed, eyes seeing
The body is left by the mind before entering spirit world
Where doors of flashing colours float aimlessly & amicably by
No touchable items exist here. A state sometimes referred to as dream
Eyeballs become waterfalls
As essence of spirituality is grabbed for ~ so much harder than before
Brain becomes like an aqueduct ~ not wanting to let the water go
Existing within a realm of impossibility, beyond all of man’s great feats
A story known by us all.
Hearts in rhythm ~ missing beats
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE COLLAPSE OF NON-CONFORMITY
Written by : Andrew ‘Smazogz’ 010903
Conscious awareness
You surround my mind
Spiritual awakening
Even those with eyes are blind
Havoc plays
Thin carpeting underlays
The church’s aisles untread
I’ll be remembered here
But.…. If I’m here now then I must already be dead
Expression on my face
White changes into black lace
Through true darkness fades
My macabre record collection plays
Wall knocking
Head tapping
Mental slapping
Ice cream pudding maggot display
Thirty years of survival
The collapse of non-conformity
Is here to stay
I am that and that has always been my way
Right up until my last hair turns grey!
I lived it in my teenage years
Met God, held his hand
Went down to Hades
Studied the mastery of wizardry there
Came back upto the surface
To society, to life, back to you lot
I’m telling my story
Some contains solitude, quandrical rot
Unrelenting questioning
Looking forward, whilst facing back
Father Christmas, without a sack
I need a holiday abroad
How about a week in
I am here to stay
I ain’t goin’ back
Cos I am already everywhere
My essence is my pressence
And this breathable organ of unappraised world covering
Entire integral aloneness is my supporter
My self supporter and my soul supporter
I know more than man needs to
And in my fraility I shall board the steam train, with the Yorkshire porter
Who shall play to me loud trance, until the entrance
At which point I shall be en-tranced
To be forever held within the oxy-genie whom allows us to live now
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
The factory where they used to fix the robots
(title taken from film 'Midnight Express'.) © Andrew ‘Smazogz’ 29th June 2006
Shouted, insane conversations still run along the halls
Imprinted by hoards of the insane or mentally sick
With stories behind reasons
That could turn a person’s face white
Daily administrations of psycho-active
Soothing, blocking, barricading derivatives
With side effects being more painful to endure
Than the original form of illness
Multi-coloured pills yielded from –
clinically gowned, polyurethane glove wearing nurses
Protected 24 hours a day
Within the confides of a twenty foot tall wall
Inmates never left alone - under constant supervised guard
Talking to each other and themselves
In a ‘secret garden’ kind of yard
Reliving the moments that never ended
Pulling on strings of loss that never mended
Captivated at night in over sterile cells
Some sleeping like sheep in flocks
Some raging all hours of the night
Until a sedative impounds their physical functionality
Nullified energies gaze emotionlessly back
With a barrage of prescribed drugs
Pilfering intelligence and soul
Rendering recipients into useless and slack invertebrates
In a devolved form of status
Unaware of the life behind the wall
Scarred minds that were once jovial and care free
Amalgamate together in a pretentious swarm
For many poor souls there could be no going back
An instance in their lives changed them
Something they were born with that can never grow
Keeps them a hostage to themselves
Both Hostile and friendly – Occasionally reaching out
The factory where they used to fix broken robots
Held for eternity in a mystical, Non-Mitigating silent shout
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE HIGHEST HEIGHT
Take my hand
Step outside
Out of the universe
Out of your mind
Take my feet
Hold on tight
Don't let go
Or you'll splat from this height
Take your arms
Raise them up
Adjoin them at the palms
So the
Take who you are
Divide yourself into two
Use glass as a mirror
It's easier to see through
Leave your shoes behind
Board the helter-skelter
Go dizzy
As it unwinds
Pick yourself up
Take the flight again
To the highest height
Freakin' out your own brain
Fall, free fall
Madness, through its eye
Emptiness, weightlessness
Spinning spiralettes, me and you
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
The Long Ladder
My hands are stretched out in front of me on the cold, metal rungs of a ladder
My feet are without socks and shoes
The grass is wet under my feet
I am shaking in trepidation
I have never done anything like this before
A hand emitting friendly vibes is placed on my left shoulder
A voice, sounding quite gruff speaks “Up ya go then”
Instinctively my left arm stretches high, before my biceps and triceps lock
In an effort to support my weight
My right hand follows suit
My knees bend then straighten with each repetition – stepping up one rung at a time
Each one bringing me closer to the top of the ladder
Each one taking me from the familiar Earth’s hold
Counting each rung – 90, 91, 92 . . . . . . .
With my neck pushed back as far as my muscles will allow
The top of the ladder is no where in view
An instinct causes me to feel uncertain - then tells me to climb back down –
But then straight after this notion - my instinct then sees
Foreseeable embarrassment – which pushes me on – against my better judgement
Sweat droplets start seeping through my skin. My hands get clammy
Giving me less grip & a feeling or vertigo
I stop and rest, waiting for this phase of dizziness to pass
Mind over matter. I can do this. I trust the people around me – who set this event up
Concentrating on where my feet and hands are as I climb
Thinking of nothing else until . . .. aaah, at last – the final rung
“You alright there, mate?” a younger, softer sounding voice says “Take my hand”.
Reaching upward, in an instance - a firmness of grip between us is established.
A second arm connects with my elbow as I disembark from the ladder
Now here I am way up high in the air – almost as high as the clouds it seems
Guided by a lifeguard – as the final few steps to the side begin.
My brain starts to feel light, due to the fact that I am standing on the edge of a diving platform. I feel like a ant stood next to an elephant.
Still being led by the arm, my feet curve down and
press against the side of the diving board
The soft voice speaks again “In your own time. No rush.”
The supporting palm unwraps from my elbow so I am stood without support
With my eyes closed I contemplate the half a mile plunge
Imagining how I will look on the way down
As straight as an arrow, as composed as an email
Heart starts fluttering, speeding up, without asking my arms take it upon themselves to raise high into the air, then I sense my knees starting to bend slightly. My shoulders hunch, a final inhalation of breath before the plummet………….. Then that’s it. I am away …..Freefalling….., Freefalling……….., Freefalling some more
Scenery of clouds and mountains rush by in a rushing blur, like a missile – course set
Feeling the weightlessness and acceleration as physics follows its path
…..Freefalling….., Freefalling………., Freefalling some more
Knocking, knocking – on heaven’s door
THEN, after what seems like no time at all I splash, - deep, deep into the waters
The speed of impact and shock to the system temporarily confuses
….But I haven’t got time to be confused
…..I am submerged by at least 10 metres of water
…..Uncertain of which way is up
Fear and panic of not breathing air again flash through my mind like lightening
The air in my body makes me naturally start to rise
Then my hands and feet start kicking – as soon as I’ve realised
“Nice jump, straight as a dart” the somewhat croaky voice announced.
As I was hoisted onto a small, luxurious yacht
Then taken back to shore – heart still racing like a full throttle engine
For all my inhibitions and hesitations – I want to go and do it again.
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
The Lord wasn't a shepherd he was one of the sheep
The Lord is my shepherd
Your soul I cross
You were the one up there
Suffering for everyone elses loss
You feeble fable
Didn't you think of having a spy at the table
For that last meal, before that devious fucker closed the deal
Call yourself my Lord
You should wear a face that fits
You should of slayed the fucker instead of turning the other cheek
You should of given the power to the war lords and hung the meek
If you had of done that your job wouldn't of taken an entire week
I hate you Lord, as much as I hate myself
Maybe I should be hung or nailed to the wooden symbol too
Yeah, yeah, I hate all of you townsfolk looking up to me
You are the dictated to fools who put me here
- Do you really just expect me to just hang around silently then die ? -
"Well, I did"
"I know you did Jesus, and for doing that I think you're a complete flid"
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE POTTY POTATO
BOILING AWAY LIKE A DUG POTATO LAYING ON A FIELD
UNABLE TO MOVE BECAUSE OF THE INTENSE HEAT
MY ARMS AND LEGS SIZZLING THEN STARTING TO BURN
CONTROL OF FACULTY SLOWS
THE NEAREST SHADE IS THE RUSTED, METAL ROBUSTNESS OF A COMBINE HARVESTER
I ROLL MYSELF OVER AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN
OVER HEATING ALMOST TO THE POINT OF PASSING OUT
LAYING THERE. EYES CLOSED. PORES WORKING OVERTIME
A SEAGUL DROPS IN FROM ABOVE AND TAKES A PECK ON MY SKIN
BEAK HELD I DROOP HELPLESSLY IN FLIGHT
LOOKING DOWN AT THE COWS IN THE FIELD BELOW
FEELING SCARED AT THE THOUGHT OF BEING MISPURPOSELY DROPPED
MY FEAR SOON ABANDONS ME AS THREE HUNGRY BEAKS PECK AND PIERCE MY SKIN MORE
HIGH UP IN A BIRDS NEST, BEING INGESTED BIT MY BIT
LUCKILY A STRONG GUST OF WIND WOBBLES THE NEST’S BRANCH
I AM TOSSED INTO THE AIR LIKE A HOLLOW SCOTCH PANCAKE
A FARMER ON HIS HORSE AND CART PASSES UNDER
A NEW LIFE FOR THIS POTATO BEGINS AMONGST BAILS OF MID-TRANSIT HAY
THE FARMER LOOKS AROUND AFTER HEARING A SOUND
BUT SEES NOTHING
DAZED AND STILL SWELTERING I, THE SPUD, MAKE A JUMP
INTO A CLUSTER OF BLACKBERRIES I FALL
AND THERE I LAID FOR TWO NIGHTS AND TWO DAYS
COOLED DOWN AT LONG LAST
RELAXING – UNTIL SCAMPERING FEET
OF TWO SONS WITH THEIR FATHER COLLECTING SQUISHY BAUBLES TO MAKE WINE
“LOOK, DAD. A SPUD.” “WHAT’S THAT DOING HERE?”
“GOD KNOWS. LOOKS LIKE WE’LL BEING HAVING CHIPS TONIGHT!”
Written by : Andrew ‘Smazogz’ 060804 in Bro+Chez’s garden whilst on hols there with FizzyWig
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The Power of Voiceless Speech
Sentences leave their mark where voices once spoke
Words create smiles and warmth with their glow
A sonata can bring complete contentment
A stanza can explain exactly what is meant
Bad vibes can be set aside with a well structured phrase
Picturing the idealism of almost every persons gaze
Putting down the scythe of verbal pledge calms situations
Written qualms can return a more rational decision
Tempers can soar. Words can become mean.
Misinterpreted in their contexts of what they actually mean.
Words are read at leisure, at a personalised pace
Without the need of some ranting reamer reciting…
…Paragraph after paragraph to your face
Displayed in places of public areas
Messages reach far more than the spoken word.
What is heard can be easily dismissed
What’s in front of your face has to be observed
Guaranteed people will think about what they have seen
Even if words from their lips remain to be seen
The power of voiceless speech is not a new thing
With the right application prosperity is brings
Like an angel granting the occurrence of dawn
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THE STANDING MAN (aka Gordon)
At the entrance to Broad row
As usual stands the person with no where to go
His face unshaved, behind his fingernails unwashed
A mental breakdown in his past ~ left his soul mostly quashed
The months upon months of begging
To the general public a foul smell
Bare feet protruding from shoes, unstitched
A standing representation of himself, depicted in hell
If I asked about his dilemma would I really want him to tell
My hand feels the small amount of cash I have
But his alchemy turns cups of tea into bottles of diamond white
I remember we saw him in the graveyard one day
He was there, dancing around, celebrating in solitude
I don’t think he knew we were there watching
Then, dizzy, with his arms out he fell, laid on the grass, sprawled out
His eyes closed, playing through his savoured memories under this sun’s intensity
Along Broad row, outside the snooker hall, next to K.F.C.
Never far from the vicinity of
Standing there, asking for change, standing some more, even in the heaviest of rain
I often wonder what is going though Gordon the tramp’s brain
I wonder if his world is always cloudy, or if to him it is plain!
Long live this traveller, this ponderer.
Written by & ©: Andrew ‘Smazogz’ 241003
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The Start of a New Year
Loud noise and celebration fill the air
For just a moment the heavens thunder in a flashing flair
All of the good times and bad times from the last year are
Thought of one more time
Before a final exhalation
Granting ourselves
Honorary exaltation
Thoughts cast wider to the open shell called our earth
Where aspirations of others have to be given a wider berth
Turn into a redundant epiphany of shock wave might
The New Year brings welcoming promises
Yet also tumultuous, panic rendering states
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE VOICE OF FALSE PROPHECY
Written by : Andrew ‘Smazogz’
Mellowness, serenity, peace
Help to make the world a safer, better place
There’s enough room on the planet
For the entire human race
Words from your lips hide deception
I think accusation is what you actually seek
Subtraction then apprehension of the weak
Fresh confrontations spiral into chaos
Clouds of soft, fluffy white
Turn red then start to fight
Feelings of violence attain height
It’s your fault alright
When scales are of an even keel
You’re more than happy to offer a good deal
But when to a disadvantage they are tilted
A swift elbow of non-caring is dealt
Everybody with exception of yourself is wilted, jilted
Personal demons
Paired with encountered ugliness from a marred past
Scale down the scope of possibility and achievement which
Could be so vast
If the world pulled together we could map the entire universe by the year Three thosand
But the way we’re heading we’ll end up like the Vesuvians
Immortalised by a burial in ash and sand
So take heed, oh voice of false prophecy
As your words are as see through as vodka
Your pledge of mellowness, serenity, peace and safety
Is all a ploy from what you are and what you want to be
Your lies are a crystal clear conspiracy
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE WEAKNESS OF THE LIGHT
There is always darkness
Even in light
Hidden away invisibly
Maimer of second sight
Warlords mimic
Dance of the fools
Determination fails
Detrimental tool
Darkness runs riot in the light
Invocating emotions of violence and spite
The dark manifestation increasing in height
Perception altering, eyes glow bright white
Such strength, forgotten and gone
Fogged over, conclusion forlorn
Happiness of mind changes into scorn
What I see in front of me – sick images of porn
They say light is our saviour
So tell me why does God wield a sword
The darkness had never lost
It just let the light think it had won
Then to re-emerge
When the guarding forces of light are all gone
The world rages
Birds die in cages
Politicians think they’re mages
As dissatisfaction rages
Across the parish
Across the district
Across the oceans
Across the world
People salute in their despair
Putting bullshit faith
Into the power of God
Its centreline torn
Similar
Identical
Verbatim
Transgression of globe
Hindered
Down trodden
Misled
By the devil in a robe
Past heaven
Into hell
Through our past
Looking through the future‘s looking glass
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The Fire Spewing Paradox of Encumbering Discharge
.
..
I am the strongest. I will never fall.
I give you your abilities to stand so tall.
I am the one which will outlive you all.
I am the dominant one covering this suspended ball
. . .
I am the one that you cannot see
The one that you can not yet control.
I represent the unlikely, the murky & cold
I am the referee of reincarnation with the authority to move the goal.
. . . .
You try to defy and decide my path
Well I’ll tell you this for nothing
You little irrelevant miscreants
It’ll be me who has the last laugh.
. . . . .
Covering me from the sun
Covering me with earth
Weighing me down with your industrial ties
I want rid of you little bacterial blighters.
. . . . . .
I want my built-upon body razed and tanned
Time for another catastrophe from the stomach of my unstudied depths.
For the mid of night it’s planned
You’ve well and truly overstepped my mirth
. . . . . . .
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
The first thing written by Andrew Smazogz 160503
The first thing I see when when my eyes awarnesses are arisen, is that sun of ours, through my window.
The first thing I think about is where is my post, also the first infringing thought of the day. Bills to pay.
The first thing I thirst for is a cup of fine, duet sugar cube, dancing, until a splosh, into ~ tea
The first thing I taste, duvet in my mouth, is the limescale from yesterday - already built up around my teeth
The 1st things opened are the cream, floral curtains - not ideal, but pleasant sun blockers, from pre-owner's choice.
The first noises heard at the UPVC, double glazed windows opening occurs are from high pitched squarks & squeals
of the birds, squirrels & rabbits outside.
The first electrical connection is the kettle, the first appraisal is to the lord, Tap
Closely followed by the computer switched on, a name changing technical achievement - currently known as Wap.
I leave windows to get its socks on & boot up
The first decision is either herbal or minty tasting toothpaste. Herbal usally wins.
The first piece of shining cuttlery to leave the multi-sectioned drawer was a spoon
The first alien antibodies in my mouth are un-usually aqua-freshey, replenishing your sinuses also, like a tune
For the first time that day plastic bristles need to be the microphones to your teeth brushing orchestrastrations
For the first time that day my now fading in thickness scooby doo flannel goes to my face, soap & water dribbles.
The first digital noise reminds me of the road runner cartoon, it is the cd drive going 'beep beep.'
The first time since last night,the same cd to which I fell asleep to starts, remembering the keybord. seep, deep.
The 1st distraction is the 1st of many closer sounding healed footsteps from outside, to the post office up the road?
The 1st voices are heard conversing at just before 1/4 to 9. Usual primrose annecdotes & comments, weather fine.
The first thing I see when I come back in, tea & peanut butter coated toast, (I like crunchy the most), in hand
Is the 'Ejay' logo, suspended as an implement, a top quality, hour eating, music composing program.
The first bite mark from the toast appeared well before the plate touched down
The 1st piece of cuttlery imposed itself on the computer desk's array, there became a collection of 6 items, that day
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE
SCALES
OF
EQUILIBRIUM
-------------------
A THOUGHT IS JUST A THOUGHT
THE ANSWER ALWAYS EQUATABLE TO EVERY SUM EQUALS NOUGHT
LOGICAL JUDGEMENTS CAN EITHER CONTINUE OR THWART
IN THE SCALES OF EQUILIBRIUM THINGS CAN BECOME CLEAR OR CAN DISTORT
WHEN ONE EMOTION IS FOCUSED ON OTHERS BECOME LESS SIGNIFICANT
THE PLEASURE ~ PAIN BARRIER, THE PRISONER ~ THE HIEROPHANT
THE DECIDING CAST WHICH WINS BRANS THE FEELING MOST RELEVANT
THE FEEL GOOD FACTOR, THE FEEL BAD FACTOR
BOTH HANDS ARE OF THE SAME TYRANT
SO TAKE ONE OF YOUR THOUGHTS
THE FIRST WHICH COMES INTO YOUR HEAD
STUDY IT, PERCEIVE IT FROM ANGLES
MAKE WHAT YOU KNOW MISLED AND
PURPOSELY MISREAD
EITHER WAY THE PATH EVENTUALLY ADJOINS TO THE SOURCE
THE SOURCE OF ALL YOUR KNOWLEDGE, IS HERMAPHRODITIC ONENESS
A SINGLE VOICE CANNOT MAKE AN UNBIAS JUDGEMENT!
THE SCALES OF EQUILIBRIUM
QUIBBLE
THE WEIGHTS ON EITHER SIDE
COMMUNIST PAIRED WITH LIBERAL
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
The Truth
IF WE FOUND THE TRUTH
WOULD WE LIKE WHAT WE FIND?
WOULD WE FEEL CONDEMNED OR REFINED?
WHATEVER THE ANSWER
THE END RESULT IS THE SAME
IT WOULD MAKE US ADDRESS OUR OWN SOCIAL AWARENESS
AND MAKE US WANT THE WORLD TO GET ON AND PROGRESS
IF WE FOUND OUR TRUTH WAS A LIE WOULD WE HAVE TO
CLAMBER DEFEATED INTO OUR FRYING PAN, DUNGEONESQUE MINDS AND FRY ?
By : Andrew Smazogz April 2006
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE VISIONARY
----------------------------
It was breezy in the wake of the visionary
He had to study and foresee deep into his awakenings
To ascertain the multiple reasons for his reign
One incarnation looks into the next
To feed on what is seen
Reactions from the futures pre-tense – in reflections are seen
Conversations, visual reminders, places and surroundings
All assessed
By the wealth of the mind’s inner eye
A powerful temple into which we are blessed
Not impenetrable with a sometimes flawed conception
More that capable of concocting an occasional lie
The clouds in the mind thicken
Getting closer as more cross linking of thoughts occur
Until the storm of neurological, nonsensical spatter has dispersed
Leaving behind in its place
Veritable and farcical domains of thought invoking possibilities
Some contain the absolutely impossible
But one definitely contains the truth
The visionary ponders – then revisits each destination
Living it the way the brain perceives it to be
Playing his part in this multi-screened complexity
Eating popcorn to the theme tune of ‘
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
THE WORLD
OUTSIDE THE MIND
Bounding on the borders of the unfathomable
Bouncing off the girders of galactic genus
Baffled by our outstretched starry overhead mire
Besotted by its magnitude and obscurity
Running the miles of invisible distance between myself and it
Imagining if days gone past or days yet to come
Would support habitation – of our sort
Soil samples and computer enhanced images from the Hubble
Give us an inkling of what else may lay in the rest of this all encompassing bubble.
Day dreaming, night travelling, data translation
Probability from improbability forms
As my mind ponders the fact it
Bleeps out - to beyond - our wakes of knowledge
What a mystery – it must be the biggest on Earth
Compared to its overall size we stand only knee height to an atom
Bounding on the borders – the unfathomable surrounds
Bouncing off the girders – galactic genius has us in its hands
Like bits of plasticine we are morphed into which we evolve
Like sugar spooned into boiling tea – fizzling out in a frenzy as it dissolves
Leaving nothing seen by they eye, leaving only a trace
Leaving microscopic fragments – which we call US – the human race
Existing within a realm outside of the mind
Existing within the world outside the mind
What would happen if something existed where something should not exist. How would the area that should not contain existence react ? Would something be taken from the non-containing area ? Would the thing that may have been taken bear consequence on the fabric of its dependant – namely our world ?
Trying to break through space – into whatever lies thereafter will surely result in a slow but certain dissolution of our universes fabric (ie : putting a finger in a plug socket or disconnecting an electric appliance when it’s still on.)
Without exploration of this kind though where would mankind be – I’ll tell you exactly where they are now – just 100 billions pounds more in debt.
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
___They call it Murder___
What makes a person murder ?
What makes a clock tick ?
What makes a heart beat ?
What gives a person the power to…
Render another's life incomplete ?
What pushes that button of excessive revenge ?
What squeezes that trigger ? Who built
Are Martians real ? Is there really a God ?
Is there any point in being guarded for life in a cell by PC Plod ?
What drives a person to that point of callousness ?
What drives such vindictiveness to be delivered ?
What drives a person to murder ?
Was it the cards they were dealt ?
Was it unintentional ?
Was it someone else who committed the crime ?
Was rationality replaced with a form of schizophrenia ?
Would this person be likely to re-offend ?
Should they be freed, killed out right or forever condemned ?
Should society have to take that chance ?
Malicious
Un-respectful
Rambo-cidal
Existential
Rite
If I were in charge your
Head would swing from sunrise to night
By Andrew J. Smazogz 9th May 2006
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
T H R E A D B A R E E X I S T E N C E
We live our life on strings
Suspended on tender hooks
Relying upon other people’s creations
Electricity, gas, weekly payment books
During childhood, then delinquency
A person is too busy expanding outward to know
As a new generation forms before my eyes
I know that I also will change with this flow
The big, wide world seems smaller now
Its intricacies become present ~ as interests alter with age
Glitches in the sky
Tremors from underground
Undefined materia
Ever inflating value of the pound
I climb the string which stretches up into the sky
I try to climb to its end which is out of sight
When after years of climbing I arrive at the top
Now I am the one that is out of sight !
In a place where meaning has lost its right
Out of this world of restraint
Into a realm, from which I am unable to refrain
Where the emphasis is :-
Just how threadbare our existence are.
©2004 2906 by Andrew ‘Smazogz’
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
TO BE FREE ©Andrew Smazogz 160103 ea21:03WALKING AROUND
HEAD FACING SOUTH
LANGUAGE SILENCED
SOUNDLESS MOUTH
AMBITIONS SHATTERED
MYTHS STILL MYTH
INTERROGATING PLANET
JURY ~ SMOKING SPLIFF
LEANT FORWARD TREADING
CENTRE OF GRAVITY
FOREHEAD TO A REFLECTION
BRAIN NESTLED
FURTHER OBSERVATIONS UNREQUIRED
LAST DAY OF TERM A MEMORY
LESSONS IN MY EYES
TESTS OF EVERYDAY
SEAGULS FLY AND WALK IN SUITS
DRIVING HOME IN THEIR TYRE TREAD SHOES
THE VIEWS
DON’T CONFUSE
THESE WORDS
UNPERUSED
WRITTEN ON MY FACE
CHIN LIFT TOO SEE
DORMANT, HOODED ENTITY
DO NOTHING TO BE FREE
STOOD WATCHING
EYES CLOSED
ADMIRING EXPERIENCE
THE PAST, THE PRESENT
WARMTH IN MY HEART
COLD TOES
TO BE FREE
A CLEAR EMPTINESS
TO KNOW MY MIND
I NOW DO
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
Torched Mutants
Disease released
From a sarcophagus deep
In unsacred ground
Where evil was once the slayer the meek
Heads grow into tyrants
Natural form undresses
Then disfigures
The tyrants then go out of their minds
Committing then re-committing, overkill
Sanctuary disrupted
The aeons of elation fall
Scriptures written in blood
Sick prophets with warped ideas dwell
Wanting to reincarnate then unleash a beast
Air bound human bacterials roam
Seeking out the non deceased
History repeats
More annihilation of the meek
Isolated incidents climb into the thousands
Cemetaries overflow
Warts and boils both external and internal steal
The air from lungs and the skin from heel
Visions witnessed seem overly cold and unreal
Heaped, still breathing
In a state of unsuspended suffering
Oil, petrol, then a flame ignites
More torched mutants
Decimated of their rights
Words by : Andrew ‘Smazogz’ 290904
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
TOUCHED A NERVE 020503
Honourable gentleman
You experienced first hand - a world war
I shall never forget the words
You asked of me what your lesser ranked officer asked you
War amidst the tor.
"What is faith", you asked me, and the rest of the group
"Can you put it into words?"
I thought of what you said, I thought about it alot
You a sergeant, looking down from that Appenines spot
When the explanation of that fog covering all
And then from wounds your companion did fall
It touched a nerve, the words from your writings that you read
I have no true experience of war, but I know what it is like to loose a friend
The sentence in your poem called "The Appenines Revisited" said it all
I quote :- "He was lifted into the arms of the Master of love and care"
These words string together to form a sentence, which to me is a brilliance defined
Even although feelings of a cold loss run through my mind.
So I thank you.
I thank you, Earnest
For sharing with me and others around you
Your words.
The world can certainly be a dark & forboding place
So I thank you again, for the use of such illumination & wholly true words
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 Troubled thoughts 010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 Light evades 0101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 Where darkness is seen 1010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 Negative outcomes before they’ve occurred 10101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 Mar and infect another otherwise glorious day0101111000010101010101010101010101
101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 What is this spybot? 010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 This searcher of mistruth 010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 Always waiting to analyse my style 10101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 Always wanting my soul in a captivated denial 101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 Integrated in my mind. Locked into my logic. 10101010101010101010101010101010101
010101010 Part of what has happened. Part of what has not. 1010101010101010101010101010101010 101010101 Partially what I expect to happened 10101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 As defined by my previous experience and failed plots 10101010101010101010101010
101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 I find it hard not to find fault 010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 Imminent that there is one to be found 010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
010101010 Overturning billions of mind stones 1010101010101010101101010101010101010101010101
101010101 Oblivious as I search to what else is going on around 0111010100010101000101010
010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 I feel that I am being pried upon 101011111010000100010010000101010101010111010110
010101010 Waiting to put a foot out of place 100010001001000100010010001000100100010001001111
101010101 So that my sanctuary of mental whereabouts 010001000100100010001001000100010010
010101010 Has a reason to be carted off from grace 000100010010001000100100010001001011110
101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 A judge, jury, defense and prosecution rolled into one 0100100010001001000100010010
101010101 So eaten up by the life long battle, too wrapped up in myself 001001000100010010111
010101010 To realise what is going on 1000100100010001001000100010010001000100100010001001
101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010
010101010 This demon 100100010001001000100010010001000100100010001001000100010010111101
101010101 This impossible to rid obnoxious disguise 010001000100100010001001000100010010110
010101010 This 12” vinyl rotating relic needs changing 0010001000100100010001001000100010010
101010101 This paroxysmal obsession confuses the wise 1000100010010001000100101111101111
010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 What is the answer? 0010010001000100100010001001000100010010001000100101111001
010101010 What is the counteracting force? 0001000100100010001001000100010010001000100101100
101010101 What is it that is eating me? 100010010001000100100010001001000100010010001000100
010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101
101010101 I’ve tried to work it out. I’ve tried to avoid it 01000100010010001000100100010001001
010101010 I’ve tried to muffle it. I’ve tried to ignore it 010001000100100010001001000100010010
101010101 An insight of questioning words 001000100100010001001000100010010001000100101111
010101010 Runs like an over-clocked processor 0010001001000100010010001000100100010001001
101010101 Through my mind 10001001000100010010001000100100010001001000100010010001011110
010101010 Through my mind 001001000100010010001000100100010001001000100010010001000100
101010101 Looking automatically for more troubled thoughts to find 01000100010010111111
01010101010101010101010101010101101010101010101010101010101000010000010010000001111111101
1100110011001100110011001001001000101100100010010000100100000© A.J. Smazogz 00100 3Sep05 100
00110011001100110010010010001001100010010000100100000100010010000100000100100000011111111
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
TURKEY’S CHRISTMAS (life as a Turkey)
NOW IS THE TIME OF YEAR
TO CELEBRATE AND REJOICE
BUT SOME BASTARD HAS SLASHED MY LARYNX
SO I’VE LOST MY FAKKIN’ VOICE
OH YEAH, THIS TIME OF YEAR IS BRILLIANT
I REALLY LOOK FORWARD TO THE YEARLY
MASSACRING OF MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS
BASTED BY BASTARDS, WHAT
BUY ONE OF US AND GET ANOTHER ONE OF US FREE
HOW FAKKIN’ DEGRADING IS THIS TO MY SPECIES
I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON OUR GOLDEN ROASTED FAT
YOU INTERNALLY LACERATED MISGUIDED TWAT
TOADSTOOLS, NUTS AND MUSHROOMS ARE ALL YOU NEED
SO WHY OH WHY DOES ANOTHER HUTCH OF BIRD NECKS
NEED TO BLEED
261104
ÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅÄÄÅÅ
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