Remember to Kick It Over

I & I might call dis a collage, being an old timey web 1.0 sort of guy. (or maybe even a punky reggae party). Younger gen Y types might refer to it as a mash up. (Still others might just be honest and direct & call it a big old ball o' crap!?! (a pox on 'em i says)). Marley, Blake, Strummer, (ply upon ply), Dedalus & a bit of Lawson all hacked up together as a treat for eye and ear and brainpan.

Wrote it one morning while the kids ran riot throughout the house, and sally slept and jesus wept.

---

Emancipate yourself
From mind forg'd mental
Manacles of Slavery.

Stef, she tapped her head,
Her forehead, with her hand.
It is here we must kill
Both Rome and Babylon.

Faces in the street
From marks of Trenchtown
Ghetto woe to Gaza's white
Phosphorus tv bombs.
To London's charter'd street
To the beat of weary feet.

In here, again she tapped
Her forehead, inhaling deep.
Speed thin sheen of sweat.

She inhaled and coughed...
Can I see another's woe
And not be in sorrow too?

Emancipate yourself
From mind forg'd mental
Manacles of Slavery.

It is here we must kill
Both Rome and Babylon.

Eternity Rules OK?

Down in Sydney for a conference, wandering around martin place, drunk. the homeless, the war memorial, the dirt and filth, the towers to money of money. Lest we forget, so we never have to remember immolations.

---

---

Gaudy Gowdy Dowdy City
Intense full of holes bitterment

Old ad guy snuffling through holes
Old dull drab frayed cardboard boxes

    Streets full of lies
    Two shapes converging an alley
    Lights of powder and pain
        Still streets of lies

Inner blue monstrosity
The son shall set leased wee frogit
Never again shroud remember
Martyrs who protect Capital.

For How Much Longer Do We Tolerate Mass Murder?

LeftClick: Gaza Rally Canberra


And this from the Canberra Times newspaper

On Saturday, acting Prime Minister Julia Gillard refused to criticise Israel's bombing campaign.

Suffering Enduring Urchins

Went to the rally in front of the Israel and USA embassies to support the people of GAZA. Not a bad turn out for Canberra. There were quite a few coppers of various types in riot gear and with tasers and with big hitting sticks and with pistols and with dogs and with cameras. the coppers scared my kids. the whole scene made me proud to live in a democracy. one that has to go to such lengths to protect the REAL terrorists from the people. So i got this old(ish) poem, a rather brutal SALO piece about rulers and priests et al raping and killing children. not a one to one mapping of the situation in GAZA - but close enough and more than most of my poet friends are saying...

We are all in gaza...

---

I find him 101 pence - dollars - pounds
Sterling effort boys - I seance him
101 years of community service.
Non stop - let 100 enticements bloom.

And the joyceful drudges
And the urchins of dickens
Rush the bench - chanting frothmouth
Flay Him Slay Him

What the Dickens: Flay Him
Drudges are dublin': Slay Him

Stab Him Jab Him Artful thrusting
Of the pelvis.
Drag Him Drug Him Dutch tars high on
Nutmeg jump into the sea.

Like David the urchins scramble after
A hung of corrupt fleshy flesh.
Adultery - Murder - the drudges
Sing out stiffening hands.
King of the Jews Hughson - they
Shout out in unison.

And the Judge General bangs
His rommy guild gavel
This hammer of justice smashes
Into One Million lilting pieces
Refracting Rainbows across the
Whitewashed (to cover the rupture) walls -
((But modern science of assembly can
Detect the splash of watery whey) (No
Matter how bleak or well washed))

Guantanamera - they mock and sing
Forming a Conga Line (Sing Cuban Pete).
Bloodletting Generals, Deceitful Lawyers,
Crooked Politicians, Professors,
Preachers, Advertisers, Capitalists,
Doctors, Managers, Journalists,
Dirty Faced Angels, Keepers of the dishes.
Smoking big fat cigars, Drinking hot sweet
Kill-Devil Liquor, Placing bets
With fat redfaced mafioso...

O Christ, O God, O Fuck my eyes,
The Prime Minster's eyes roll back...
O God Fuck, O Sweet Jesus - the judge ejaculates
Overflowing the arse of artful. The Cardinal
And the Governor each hold one cheek open
The Imam and the Rabbi dance maniacal
Around a table containing the bloody remains
Of the infantata disembowelled the dense inert blade.
Each hand tight around the throat of a young girl.
Shaking the lifeless bodies with delight.
How great is our freedom!!!

They so hate our freedoms we must curtail them
They chant - subjugating with abandon.

So our scene fades to gore,
As does our future?

Slave of the Slave

The worker is the slave of capitalist society, the female worker is the slave of that slave. - James Connolly - and Yoko Ono said...

---

God Damn you and the child!
Shutting the slamming door
Thin light strand falling 
        The lonely floor

    And slamming shouting door
Sitting dark alone
Alone in the dark

Softening full of outer space
Cooling gin wettening cheeks

        And the darkness fading
        The stars one after another
            Fading and blinking out

Till the wild east rises a new dawn
Red is the East
    Rosy fingers dawning and the 
    Crescent half smile translusing 
        To nothing

And the cold metal 
Upon flesh 
And the red sun rising

Groping towards the light

And So:

Let All Malthusians Go Hang!

OK! this one has it all! From the Korean Police Action to Shane Warne to Dave & Ansel Collins to Elton John to Hamlet to Venus in Furs to The Oxen of The Sun - it just goes on and on - and all along it builds up a hatred of Capitalism and Militarism.

It is not just greed, like some say, that has caused the down turn.
Economic crisis is not a moral equation! (we must live beyond good & evil).

It is deeper, it is the very logic of Capital that leads to these wars and these down turns and to this world of macho hero bullshit.


For what is a bayonet, if not a tool with a worker at either end!

---

Let All Malthusians Go Hang!

She incheoned her loafer
After sum Khe Sanh halt months
Man she led her sway - by
Indirections etc
    Hambonelet - ham it shut slut
Of ham lust - slam it hut!

Stinking dave dove son of 
Gratitude - 'tis gunners 
Be a long long trireme
I am a rick rock let us be man
& Mars bars a place to raise 
Your kit clubbing kats.
    She salt hummed and
Sealed one inch of the sobbing
Bastini life of lies.

And she let mat lush her
Cocksacs upupon his ucrank
Poldy land (sledded and none such)
All wit furry fairy head hits
Loud whoreson cries of whippets
And long wimp its wimp it good
Ground zero of the magnificent
Life drawing warne time
Severin AM - I am the magnificent
(She pissed posh upon his
Aught ought workswerving) She shot
And hauled at the lunatic tuna
Tic tank dough of your 
Dribble drabble. She larfed
His hat slum salt hum into his
Burning hot sun eye balled
And sheer sworded never to swear
And hit him agin gain this on 
The lam thus two Severins 
And two strep troats accosting
Strangers for accounting.

Be Gone!
    Monocle Theists
Gee Borne!
    Monocle Theists

This time she found one
From Aria loud land - gave her 
One good old smack, a virtual
Paddy whack, upon the guild
Of her girdled muddle draped 
In like a barb marley snack 
Of pasta spud a Doodle Doo 
Unless and until the first Sargent 
Left tenant Piggy O'Piggies 
And Cuntstable Clitoris 
Apprehended dis here red ulcer
Farce forced ulster red hand.

Faux Be Real (or Raid on a Chip)

I am not sure - Just having some fun i think. you can be the judge (as always)

---

The Faux Is Real; Bad.

Good marrow, she sed,
    Glutting the excess off her skin

Good gray rage maintains 
Range three quatre centre
All misty pithy eyed fat
    Around the middling

Distance - He used
    The formal reply
As she twere
His better.

All a sodden storm of failing
Down a chaos of dorics
Rose petaled from the grunt.

From the sweety sweaty chops
Of old Medusaula (Grunty
Crunchy the old trainys 
Gov bull fullish voyeurgins
A wight royal rooking ober)

    Bone Up Win Now Bone Up Now Win
Incessant Doric chaunting.

    And she pulled the flat 
Of the pork bone essence out
The floods of 'erobe 
    Awl drippy droopy with fig paste
And appletdumping snores.
    (Sharpened for days
    Rubbed against the rood
    Of the mystical rukh)

She plungerd the sparkling
Bone intwo yon yore eyen.

    Gut winnowing my peat all
    Pedaling...

    (Fore now she used the formless
    Parting speak - 
    She is your butter).