Friday 29 June 2012

Feryiuo


It is no circumstance beyond mine mortal control, sum magnificent dream, sum distant spire, sum far mountain range where the brave batter another foothold on a sheer face of an incomprehensible crystalline Diamond which reflects the snow and super massive hailstones that are like rocks smashing on a face which is numbed and the struggle is diminished, a last strength is failing, and leans from the side holding on with one are, swaying, at this moment – fervidity..
Collapsing unto wards sum other thing, beneath and below, cavities dark and cancerous looming from the horizon, desiccating, disseminating the malign influence of the free jugular coniferous, constant, time is nothing but bad memories of what you wanted your dreams to be, an living in the past is like looking through a looking glass, especially if your smashed. Dashed I was, and crass besides, minds you, I felt sum thing extraordinary once, it was the purest disbelief, a fantastic contrarious insignificant perusal of the didactic relativity of sum indicative opinion is.
It is a beautiful thing to sing in the moonlight when your are fucked, to dance, or I prefer to sit because I am very fucking lazy and that’s a god thing, and I hope you all get shin splints, not even that but worse, sum sing in the moonlight, the light is too bright, too stupendously dazzling and confusing, yet sum how sum thing felt just right, like flight the penguin was incapable, dastardly and scheming about anything that even looked like it
Hearts and Spades, jacks and Aces, a fool’s luck is sacrifice for honour, is a replacement for dignity, for a morale compass, a decision is a void thing, and what the fuck do I know, just sum beautiful thing, sum beautiful thing to fill my time and day rather than this, what pain is the toil, and what is rain next to a river, water.
 Agony would be welcomed in all lives,
It makes everything seem better much afterwards,
Like sharp and silver piercing knives,
Here come the brutal self-redeeming indigo bastards.
All are cast once as willing thieves,
Then years later and honest and stand bearing the noble standards,
No judgement on any true beliefs, once won,
All things are bright and beautiful under the Grandstands and garlands
No Hell for any thought of sin for all are tempted,
Such is the beautiful thing which is lust,
No greater earthly delight than ever in your darkest you truly dreamt,
All will be yours for you are nought but dust,
They shall worship your elegant ornate bust,
When years from now Grande’ Victoria is Augustus

Tuesday 19 June 2012


An effulgence, a steaming rank, monotony of stinking shite, like a dirty sewer full of rats, the place where the shameless sinners run to hide when the light of the day is in the sky, and a stumble of caravans and Picnics, that untidy themselves lounging upon the fading afternoon, hirsute, undoubtedly oblivious, oblique, sanitizers and fabulous magic lotions rolling over and licking its balls, and chasing them and shouting, mounting , surrounds= sounds park benches, which are trapeziuses, and luxurious three piece sweets.
The beautiful fucking sounds of a game of rounder’s, or touch rugby, and all because the sun the dim in the heat of the haze, the incessant blaze, an unblinking eye gazing, glinting on metallic shapes in the sky, of a silvery slow fat fly, or even worse an Angry Wasp, rasping like a Messchermit, Blaw, Blawin, the paper fae ma honds, I,I,I,  a ways an a that, I, I, Irie, Irie, INI Apparition.
The fields are like a patchwork, but in sum places the wild remains, some reminder, sum preservation of a secret symbol of a belief, not faith or knowledge, a means to affect time, an urge to climb, on the winds and currents, the freedom of flight is one thing not given to the kindness of conquest and strong foundation on which are such gargantuan things constructed, my face is  a gargoyle, for you cannot catch me, to stun a mouse.
Wintering Crows congregate in their hundreds and thousands on the roofs of the slums, Blaw, Blaw, it reeks a Shyte, Blaw, Blaw, Blaw and a ways a that r the souls a folk. Fucked in fucked that, like a load of crap and stupendously unbalanced, as I crash into the rocks, I honestly feel quite sanguine, Irie, Irie, Irie,
Like Ants on the rubbish tips, like Flies clearing through the rubbish wearing their cheap cotton face masks, the purity of soul is Ini the pursuit of money, not some Angelic child learning about Jesus and empathicitation, only the blessed few can learn the luxury of the wisdom of mercy, or is the sanctity of life a myth, what purpose but toil, unwitting boil on the roasting hard arsehole of the world and your comeuppance superficial morality regarding the problem of it. I would have one humanist above ten thousand bureaucrats and One Hundred thousands of those who think their superstitious morals are somehow superior
And what a peaceful face that would be if that would be showered with the riches of the world to be saved while his mother his father, his cousins toil, servitude to the tyrants, who only know one way, one power since the First great city of Babylon was built and the Cruel King, and then the evil spirit worshiping Pharaohs, but never mind them, we know that they roast In hell with all the holy fathers and Archbishops, the Generals are being cooked for Dinner tonight, and the Politicians will be served as Dessert.
Perhaps it is true, only in death will you find Peace and Paradise, for life on this earth seems like a living hell imposed upon you, for what is honour, and truth, and equality, sum must serve, this most heinous law, blaw, blaw,
MABOZZARTICHIE

Saturday 16 June 2012


ACT 2 – AUGUSTUS VICTORIA
There is nothing better than fucking a goat every morning, or if you cannot find a goat a sheep would do, a fine and willing woolly smelly piece of mutton when I would dine on Lamb, and veal for breakfast, with mounds of froe-grass like mud pies, and custard pies, as if you being a clown makes me look less dignified, I will despatch this costume to the trash, it has been sullied, I can buy many more and much more besides, and probably you, your family, and towns and cities beyond, so you wonder why I care, well I do not, really.
I love Fucking , and I only jest above, for which beast would indulge in such when all the Nymphs of Babylon are besides my side, and sickening acts are ordered for the delight of the mob, they send me money begging for act upon act of despicable debased ugliness and a disturbed fantasy which persists, fell acts upon this deadly dull night, many penetration of coerced innocents, what mortal sin, that once we were all kin, an evolution in the control of basest urges, courage is a fallacy, a star arsed controversy, inconsolable in its avid deconstructionalistic pictorial dementia.
Where’s abound for I am Augustus, and is any delight a distraction for the sky I carry upon my shoulders, and if I shrug this will all come tumbling down, you see I said cum, you might snigger, to go, to come, to be, to see sum beautiful shyte, and know there is anything but the not the truth, and that’s what it is like, and it is quite hard to describe.
And it is better off in my hands, or your hands, or mouth, or your sweet Stanistan, which will soon by my new Staniland with untold riches, oh, it is sweet to wake up in the morning and to finish with the goat by slitting its throat and throwing it out the window, the sun rises, glorious, another grand day In this the zenith of your power, the peak, our final crescendo.
How wise is Augustus, Victorious and sent as Grand Kaiser to serve the people by becoming the will of the people, like Stalin the Great, Big Brother loves you, it does not deny you anything, it encourages your every perversion so it can record it and analyse and you it find it what you want to buy, because that is your weakness when you are not playing at your hobby of having a cause, or believing in something, or saying something  but not really caring, the rest of the time you are buying things, and you have to choose, oh, I would love to see them starving on the street, I would throw them money to eat, come to my table, and help me eat my paper, you say I do not share my wealth, and if you have never eaten hairy elephant’s scrotum you have never eaten a delicacy, he would eat anything once, and more than once and anything else, but an Elephant looked dangerous, and it might object,
There is nothing wrong or right with that, merely a precept of acceptance, the bloody goat is not a machine, and its brain is not made of computer chips, rather weak flesh that feels its pleasures, if it objected why it would scream in such delight.
No,  this is imply only to shock, no need for rituals, or gathering and dressing up in smelly cloaks, and dancing over Pentagrams, not us ,we are too busy counting our money in our freezing cold country houses. If conspiring is sleeping in between money counting sessions then we are plotting some thing, because it is tiring to keep on counting all that money day after day, and there is billions of it.
I am good man and I have only my wife, but I urge you to not trust power, or trust liars like me, what of delight, is life upon stale bread and sanctity or do you feel the heat of the debased the new,  you have no thoughts of this time, like all the other times, and four hundred generations, four hundred life-times and I have yet to meet someone even a molecule of any particular worth, such joys, but I tire of the same faces every day, and always need something new, you should trust me, I am the will of the people

In any such way, things are here to stay, Hey, Hey, Hey,
No matter what anybody else says, not even mother,
Or the Great Father because he is a portrait on a wall, a memory of greatness,
Of the ruthless means to defy at all costs so this could become possible,
Is morality measured in good deeds and the valiant virtue which is a reflection on the shined surface of some namesake valued much more than some men’s lives, like Animals, or lower beasts, like rats in a maze, scurrying around in a blazing daze, days pass, blasted out of this sneeze, like some disease, or is actions as need must, that is the greater cause, and if all the cares of the world were on my back, would you mock in all seriousness the advocacy of lunacy when presented by the inherent difficulties and complications which necessitate these delicate affairs.
Enter – Voluptasuevius
All day you sit and grumble to yourself, gnawing at bones, what delight, when you rule with all the riches of the world, of Babylon, its hordes are your slaves, its soldiers your most loyal servants, and you sit and grumble to yourself, see my beautiful body, I was chosen for my exceptionalism, if not me another, do you tire of women? Do you desire a boy? A Priest? Do you wish to confess? Do your past actions trouble you? Do you think you should have done things differently?
What has happened is unchangeable, the future lies before us, it is inevitable, Victoria, It arrives at this very moment Augustus, it will last forever,
You of sense and reason and love do not know Jealousy and hate, and rage, a deep and twisting anger that eats my body and I would laugh to see them eat Dog food, cast upon the earth to walk on all fours, they would devour their own kind at the last, without thought, even before it was too late, for it is a cold logic and devoid of heart from the rich to the poor, a strange selfishness that inhabits all them deep down in their reptilian core, like sum mendacious microchip that makes them act in ways that disgust, I am their will and their will is Insanity, the age of Cant has gone, Cast aside your superstitions, and the logic of the brain is the logic of the ego, or the logic of the heart, no need for my sly words or the dart to turn them to thoughts of wickedness, deceit, they expect us to be maligned and wronged Angels when they would sell their Wives for Bread.
There is hope where there is a heart, and where people do not walk alone, no place like home, the simple life is a right, the age of abundance, not the age of want, the age of the future, not the age of beginning of the great struggle, and how many more broken in this infernal race against other common folk in lands far abroad across all the world
A ways an A that, you are looking fucking gorgeous today,
It is indeed an excellent day, and sum Special Sensibilities are in order
What’s that?
That’s this
Nice,
Only nice,
Call me Ronaldo,
Why?
I am the Grand Kaiser,
You said you were Ronaldo a minute ago,
You always try and demean me,
I wasn’t doing anything,
I could tell by the way you were looking at me,
I wasn’t doing anything
Really,
Exit