riding the vessel

a man is a vessel
stopping at ports at sea
picking up, dropping off
destination not enough

if you jumped aboard a plane
would it ever land
would you care where
if destinations are not your plan

useful vessel, pretty vessel
never understand
why you would go somewhere
without a greater plan

not here to dream
not here to wait for heaven
somewhere out there
is a page to tear

picking up pace
running through the forest
about to miss a plane
to shoot you to your fame

back to the plan
where are you going
house, car or cave
or straight to the grave

load me up
send me high
immortal soul
or lifeless ghoul

missed the plane
missed the plan
back on the ship
enjoying the trip

where to now

where would you rest
knowing there are two sides to every coin
beautiful life races on by
while you read by the moonlight

crying of constructions of long gone by
forgetting the wise, remembering the now
words placed with haunting omnipresence
each stroke a loss of time

never to return, never to fade
a structurally sound construction
will stand longer than natures own
where do you keep your vicissitudes?

a past present brings so much joy
how you doin? im just rollin on by
ecstatic to see the sun
in the east or west

what of the lands with no day or night?
emotions still rise and fall with the sea
the grass is greener on the other side
you should go there and see

what of the beauty that transcends the natural shift?
that which is present for evermore
take wisdom from a rock or grain of sand
not of fractured minds

and pray to God "where to now..."

ode to laughter

Pirate on a boat
Soldier on the land
What I thought was funny
The lion said was bland

Adult in the shower
Child releasing poo
What I thought was funny
Was the decoration on the loo

Mammal in the water
Mammal in the air
What I thought was funny
Was a bum shaped like a pear

Goat on the mountain
Sheppard in the grass
What I thought was funny
Was distinctions based on class

Skin on the flesh
Flesh on the bone
What I thought was funny
Was a gratuitous death moan

Lying on a bed of steel
Isn’t for the poor
It is for the pretentious types
For whom normal art is a bore

Twisting to the music
Dancing to the song
What I thought was funny
Is how a g-banger can be a thong

Empty Halls

I hear the voice in me
As I stare to the west
Exalted sin
Morphs with the wind

Unholy immolation
Necessary to proceed
Paths that were trodden
Are mysteriously not

Blast from the east
I breathe from the soul
Writhing in pain
I became reticent

When it all makes no sense
Is when I awake
No map or guide or squire
To ask the way of a stranger

Sometimes I cannot see in front
Without a fault in my eyes
No veil, shield or wall
But a trick from my mind

I turn and dream
Of free thought
What binds me within
I cannot be sure

Down
In the depths of skies
I can hear it calling
Right in front of my eyes

Vast dimensions beyond reach
Perpetual through time
Listen to the drums
Pounding from afar

I once had everything
Chasing dogma through corridors
I finally caught the disease
The disease of emptiness

Hollow cavities are filled
As the water falls
From the mountains…
This is what she said

“stalk the night into the day
disregard what you find
pray to the god of dark and death
and be interested in the answers you find”

I realised I was dreaming
And my next action would be last
When the sun escapes the moon
I chose the door that was unlocked

Zipping through the world unknown
In a blink and eternity at once
Clearly displaying the link
Between awake and sleep

Sleep tight little one
Snuggle into bed
The dreams that play in rest
Might be what is suppose to run in your head

Waving to Death

Sliding down a maze of mirrors

I lift my veil to see

A light shone back and forth

handing out a key 

Down I went

starting to enjoy the ride

catching a glimpse in my eye

I turned to hide

Soft kisses of life gone by

love reigned from the wind

there I saw the mighty breath

blowing the autumn leaves

How I laughed at 

the joy of my trip

hee hee ha hee ha hee ha

Waving to death I grab her bony hand

She swings me up, gave me five

just before I reached the end.

thoughts on mountains

traipsing on paths from earth itself

day provides a gleam of hope

the sun it struck right on the cross

breathing words through skin and bone

i see the structure lie before me

ominous and particular in shape, style and matter

what i know as words permeate my mind

and exit through permanent wounds

i pulled up beside that cross

made of wood and nail

i saw the faces of generations ago

i saw pity, hate and hope

sitting down beyond the trees

staring at the grave

i realised that it wasnt day

it was night, all my own

in the split of a second

i morphed from random traveller

to experienced philosopher

if i had written the waves down

I too could have been a saint

instead i sat and watched

till the sky turned grey and cold

i slaked my thirst

and stretched my veins

but the cross still remained

perplexed i looked up to the heavens

which apparently you are meant to do

i saw no heaven or tongues of flame

delivering a message worthy of a King

still i could not look away

then i realised why

what caught my attention

was the beautiful night sky

dont you pray

appearences of the dead

to be sustained

wallowing in grief

fighting to the end

rolling in fields of lies

charging down the dead

catch a leaf in the air

bow your head in shame

shower with peppered taints

you were deceived by a saint

dont you pray for the dead

life and love were the sinner

blood run down the side of my face

it has been there forever

i just cannot remember

why i pray for the dead

howling winds scream

feel it through your hair

seek for answers to nothing

one step at a time

dont you pray for the dead

their life is one and the same

Mortuus Ad Victus

Seth suddenly came to a stark realization – what he wanted with his life was different to the rest of his classmates.  Very different.

“Seth Arioch?”

There was a silence of about half a second.

“I want to be a Nazarene Slayer” he said.

Jaws dropped to the floor all around as Seth’s genuine smile and overwhelmingly positive attitude beamed throughout the small English classroom at Anchor High.

There was a silence of about half and hour.  Or what felt like it.

On that fateful day six years ago, Seth realized what he wanted to do in life, yet had no idea on how to manifest this. 

Until today.

 September 38, 2068. Standing in a darkly illuminated corner of the 21^st Century Shoppe in Brisbane’s CBD, Seth saw the watershed between what is known and what is not known – a CD from the year 1990. 

The ugly looking disc was not what interested Seth though.  It was a song title on the back:

 

8.     Iconoclasm Sweeps Cappadocia

 

Seth had wanted to be a Nazarene slayer because it was the pinnacle of all things to be killed.  Defeating a raging lion in battle with nothing but your bare hands is easy.  Destroying a God is not.  Seth always set the bar high for himself. 

Highly technical semiotic analysis is part of the schooling program in the present day and society would not function without symbols as intricate as the first Mona Lisa painting.  Forget crosses and buttons.  Think of a highly developed brain that can calculate with the speed of a computer and the intelligence and wisdom of a human.

Seth was always proud of his abilities and was always at the top of his classes.  Which is why, in Seth’s mind, all religion, saviours and Nazarenes must die.  Only one of the primitive symbols remain – the catholic cross.  Seth had this in his cross-hairs.

“It’s only 2 lines” was all Seth could whisper as he remained staring at the cover of the CD for minutes on end. 

Seth never thought the church was bad.  He just realized that for himself to continue living a full life, all religious symbols must be destroyed.  This is not for anyone of the populace, the dream people who float in and out of reality every four years or so.  This is for him.  Smash two lines.  Target, destroy and erase.

Brisbane as a society learnt with the world.  Thousands of buildings made in the ancient sandstone have been pulled down over the years and replaced with massive gothic structures, with high door and arch ways and a multitude of flying buttresses.   The intricacy and detail of the 16^th century is the norm across the world, with materials and skills needed to design the structures impeccable. 

And yet the cross remains.  Seth walked out of the store knowing what he needed to do.  Brisbane needs Arioch to sweep its streets with iconoclasm. 

Taking one step out of the door, Seth was met with a myriad of options.  Shall I talk to someone, shall I walk in a crowd, shall I spend some money in a shop…

Out of nowhere Seth stopped and looked to the sky.  The brilliant azure shone in and around the earth on a perfect day.  Looking at the dirt, stone and glass that lined the city before his gazing eyes, he spoke to the wind.

“We were wrong then.  This city has been destroyed and rebuilt.  We are wrong now”

Turning to his left, Seth caught a glimpse of a beautiful woman walking along with a small child.  Her smile was broad and genuine and her brown hair flowed in a prescribed wave again and again over her neck and shoulder.  The child started staring at Seth, his young innocent face a ball of curiosity as his brown eyes pierced straight into the heart of Seth Arioch.

 He couldn’t help but laugh.

Seth decided to go home before things got too serious.  Turning to cross the street, he thought how lovely the day was.  The mammoth building in front of him gleamed in the sun.  It was as if some holy light was shining upon his sweaty forehead.

Little did Seth know, a holy light was shining upon him.  Very holy indeed.

Seth was not aware of this. And probably will not be aware of this until he dies.

As it turned out, God had been following Seth since he proclaimed “ I want to be a Nazarene Slayer”.  Upon hearing this, God was perplexed and also extremely curious.  He sat in his ultra-dimensional throne and pondered.  After approximately half and hour, he called to the nearest Seraph standing guard at the interest to his chambers.

“ Morgan” he said inquisitively.

“Yes Lord, holy trinity, father of the…”

God cut him off with a question

“Am I good?”

“Yes, father, absolute, the good of all good…”

“the evil of all evil?” asked God.           

“No, Father!  Do not even utter the word, we are in heaven!" 

“Oh, yes…”  God was bored now and got straight to the point.

“Do you want to kill me?”

Morgan was stunned.  A look of fear swept across his face.  He thought God knew something that he might do in the future that he had no idea about now.

“God!” proclaimed Morgan, “No!”

“For anything I do to you, I am sorry, Father.  I serve you and no other.  You can see into the future, I cannot.  Please forgive me, and spare my wings”

It is customary in heaven to tear all six wings of a seraph and throw them to hell to be burnt.

But God cannot see into the future, he only uses the past to create realistic situations that may or may not occur.

“It is alright, Morgan my son.  I was after a response from you, and the answer you gave was full of trust and love.  I hold no grudge.  Please continue your watch, you have my love”

“Thank-you father, God bless”

“God bless”

Morgan scuttled back to his position, not knowing what just occurred.  His mind was so focused on protecting God, he duly forgot the conversation in 5.3897 seconds.  God did not. 

God only tries to help people.  He truly does.

God sat there, on his throne of cloud, gold and dust, wondering why someone would want to spend their life tracking him down and killing him, just as they did his son, Jesus.  But that is another story.

So he decided to keep an eye on Seth throughout the years.  Why? 

God is afraid to die.  Yet on the other hand, he is quite inquisitive.

So after all these years of watching over Seth, God grew quite fond of him.  And that is why he decided to protect him against the Zombies.

Yes, zombies.  The living dead had sprung up on earth to unleash hell.  And Seth was about to have his first encounter.

The small child with the beautiful woman was still in front of Seth.  Everything was normal, until Seth realized the small child was eating the beautiful woman’s foot. 

Her left foot, to be exact.

She was hobbling around on her right foot, with the detached other foot in her child’s mouth.  Behind her lay a continuous line of smeared blood over the asphalt.  Then a peculiar thing happened.  The beautiful lady picked up the small child like you would a melting ice-cream.  Except instead of licking it, she bit off the entire head.  Blood was spewing forth from her mouth and the childs neck.  Seth stood in amazement at how she managed to bite off the childs head in one go.

She looked over at Seth.  He thought his time was up, but she gave him a disgusted look and threw the childs decapitated carcass at him.  He covered his face with his hands and grimaced.  The carcass smashed into his side, knocking him over.  The blood from the severed body flicked around in an arc similar to if you put a dripping wet paintbrush in an Olympic discus thrower’s hand just before starting the spin.

The woman then ran over to Seth when he was on the ground.  He was dazed, confused and scared.  To his dismay, she kicked him up the ass, sending his face head first into the bloody headless body in front of him.  Rolling around, Seth jumped to his feet.  She wasn’t there.

She was eating a nearby man’s bowels.  He had ceased living and lay on the ground, arms outstretched, and shirt up high enough for the woman to catch a glimpse of untouched soft flesh.  She went straight for the bowels, ripping apart the flesh and sticking a long-nailed hand pulled out a long strand of entrails.  Without hesitation, she shoved the guts into her mouth and swallowed without chewing. 

As you do.

That was enough for Seth.

“Fuck this, im outta here” he said to himself, and legged it around the corner – to see a man eating his penis.

Seth threw up.  The splash of vomit on the concrete was enough for the zombie to turn his head and look straight at Seth.  Strangely enough, he decided the delicacy in front of him was too good and continued munching away.  Blood was running down the path and into the gutter.  The unrecognizable face of the zombie was covered in blood.  Nothing but a constant pump of blood arose from his groin, much like a common garden fountain.

It was at this time that Seth realized this was his fault.  He had failed to slay the Nazarene.  And because of this, people are suffering.  If there was no God, there would be no suffering.  Only God himself could conjure such a blasphemic plague, to punish the “evil” humans.

Seth didn’t really care right now.  He wanted God dead.

God’s interest suddenly arose.  Although he had nothing to do with the zombies, he thanked whoever was involved.  The case of slaying the Nazarene was once again open. 

Seth did not even know where to start.  Dismembered bodies were traipsing through city, eating random bits of flesh.  In despair, Seth called out:

“Show yourself God!  We need to talk”

nothing happened.  Seth began to open up.  The words coming out of his mouth were like fire from a volcano, spitting and scathing.

“ I thought not, you gutless worm.  Darkness and death I desire, not you.  Leave me on Earth with the zombies!!! That is better than breathing the same air as you, you fucking lame magician!!!”

God sat high in his throne of cloud, gold and dust.  He heard everything Seth had said.  Unfortunately, there was not a lot he could do.  He did not know how to show himself on earth.  He wished nothing more than to take a human form, show himself to Seth, and ask him as many questions as a mortal man would wish to ask a God.

He did not know how to talk to people on earth.

He did not know how to change things on Earth.

All he can do is view the Earth and its happenings and predict what is going to happen.  For some reason everyone wants him dead.

Except for Seth.

He just wants to kill him.

*Stay tuned for part II - heaps more zombie blood death!  hail!

hi spu

give me a durrie

durrie, sustenance, life

my world is durrie

* this poem is dedicated to matty bennett and is about bogons buying durries from you when you work in a servo

what have you got to eat

a man screams "what have ya got to eat cuuuuuunnnnt" 

while another lies down on the shore

a woman does the same thing

but for some reason it is different

not much makes sense anyway

except the laughter and the cart

everything else including words

are really just an empty filler within the boundaries of the world

fake palm trees and golden promised roads dont fool the stupid

within the light mind you reign victoriously

no wonder no one can see reality

it is constantly shaped by the dark and the winds of saturn

not just winds but water

you thought they were joking

when a fictional fiction prophesised the planets

so sorry to disappoint you mighty siren

not a song to sing in tune

not a story to write in genre

not a picture to last a lifetime

not a way to move in a prison

the key to emancipation is the key

use it to set yourself free

dont run and hide, dont be a joke

dont be ashamed, your just not as tuned as some folk

Step right up!!!

Here come the carnival filth
failing to even walk
let alone put on a show
vagrants moved on. removed.

Ha Ha!
So hard done by
I forgot to realise
everyone else is living a life

you take plain and turn it complicated
although your brain does not function
i can understand you breathe
i can not understand you are still alive

Never seem to die
left alone, untouched, hiding not in shadows
but behind a political bureaucracy
which anyone with a brain
realises is fucked

laugh it up, carni clown
your physical presence is needed
not to ensure life and equality
but to make the votes for the rich

who for some unpredictable reason
also hold power

Shroud

Release this fury
malediction
purported to decline
I believe, here to rise

eating out the days
grinding away
crossing the seas
biting the sting

revealing chosen death
glamorous to describe
horror to feel
difference not known to the wit

people designed to suffer
people designed to hate
some are here as an afterlife buffer
some are here to descriminate

circle the groups
neverending
nevermore shall we find the end
a time is lost, another starts
some an essential configuring
others a heartbreaking loss

soft reverberations
feelings of dread
feelings of might
lead to the point
lead to an opening

crawl indefinately
as tears fall
crawl so others
obsessed with vanity
may fall

sprung from the turf
returned to feed
chase the shadow down
while you still breathe

memento mori

memento mori

memento mori...

How much time do I assign to ascend?

Reborn unto a tyrant
left sleeping under a hallowed rock
turn to me and just listen
the sounds of organs
and trumpets are near

And he shall be accountable
tried, tested and truthful
he never stands a chance
with Job in the room

Why the hatred?
Why the malice?
All I ever did was love you
and you used me in roulette
as the dice
while the devil was the wheel
and satan the dealer

He saw you coming
lord of all lords
your son died... for what?
to afflict the most true
and loyal human
with the plague
did you forget he worshipped you?

Now we sit in a worthless trial
the room vanishes
you are told
GOD IS DEAD
your stories do not sit
if another human loved me
I would give them my life
If you had not played
with minds
and twisted motives
now everyone is strong,
just like god!!!

while others weep
I play with my pen
remembering the plague sent
that I am part of still

Your time is up

So pure, now

reach out for injustice

find a soul while you are here

the air is fresh and the day is young

wander into a chasm of fear

and hear not the cries

of old flesh leaving bones

but new gurgles of an infant at your breast

Clear a space amongst the trees

amongst the houses, amongst the stone

for when a town is levelled

the dust will once again settle

I need to be an entrepreneur

Now this interests me. While searching for something completely random I stumbled across this web page called Tramp Lamp.

I suppose the name says it all.

"Tramp Lamps are one of a kind hand made lamps crafted out of Vintage and Modern women’s clothing". Kelly Kerrigan is the talented lady behind all this.

Brilliant. The designs are actually quite funky and appear to come with a great functional use - lighting. On a positive note, the designer actually thought about this as the garments seldom go up in flames.

Show this to one of those whingy-whiney people who can never find the right bedside lamp - this could be the one that you are searching for.

Stay tuned for the gimp...

(Photo from tramplamp.com)

Out of tune

and then it occurred to me...
a man by the name of space-rocketeer 3628 appeared to me in a dream the other night and explained the basis of time travel.

Upon awaking, I was hoping that it involved urinating all over my bed because I had an extreme urge to piss. Unfortunately it wasn't, and I had to walk 6m to the toilet.

and I forgot, of course.

Until tonight.

space-rocketeer 3628 had been simple, plain and concise: Use compact discs.

cd's

that was the secret.

apparently, if man had have used his nouse when developing cd's, the same principal could have been applied to time. that principle is:

1. a cd has a beginning and an end (not so good)

2. along this cd, a "laser" can read specific moments in time and replay them (thats ok)

3. if a perfect sequence of ff and rew are used, the beginning nor the end of a cd can be found, played or stopped (it gets better!!!)

4. instead of developing lasers to read metallic grooves, man had to spend merely another 568 years to develop the "first" time machine. This machine would use a force (human, not laser) to read an object (the universe, not metallic grooves). Simple. The time needed is in respect to human needs to do other things in life such as reproduce, drink intoxicating beverages and start wars where millions die a horrible death. The result - there is no beginning and there is no end. A human (like you and me) can jump between anywhere on the disc (universe).

5. Rewind too far, you will not die (sort of bad). You will end up near the end.

6. The technology takes a lot longer than 568 years now that we cocked up our first chance

space-rocketeer 3628 explained this in great detail. I merely sighed.

"whats up?" said a confused space-rocketeer 3628

"i suppose it is up to me to learn from my cds"

"is that so bad?"

"no" i said, matter of factly. "its good"

"then why the long face?"

"i want it now, not in 568 years"

"then blame the impatient dude that cocked it up for everyone"

that dude had the opportunity. space-rocketeer 3628 filled me in, he has been there and seen the original events unfold. A man named kees was a scientist, obviously intrigued by space and time travel. upon learning of a new system of applying his compact disc formula to time and space, he became frightened, thinking god would not let him into heaven.

at this time there was a knock at his door. he felt like he had just come out of a 5 day drug binge. he was small and scared. somehow, he answered the door.

"Mr kees?"

kees stared

i represent the sorny corporation. we hear you have a method of storage developed which is perfect for video and sound...

the rest is history. unfortunately, god got the better of kees. but not of space-rocketeer 3628. and certainly not of me.

Come with me into the night...

I only just appeared on this midland forest
and I have loved every forest, every person
The men walk past, full of hubris and exerting power from the pocket
at their libidinal impotence I laugh
orders from you I take not
and wait for your time to come

then come the women
lovely ladies who exert exuberance and joy at life
others who hold the hand of the dogmatic hound
it is quite possible to forget them
as they lie on top of the mountain
and forget to go inside

i must sing the praise of the lovely woman
not scarred, paused or undermined
possibly only Schluter could have carved
a figure that is matched by beauty for every point sinister
i know you are there
I will find you

There are only a few I have met
who hold mind and spirit above bosom
For the mix to create eternal life
lies with you
me
and abnegation of power
weight

The path is beautiful yet harsh and true
more thorns than roses
but you, my dear friend
I need you to hold my hand during night and day
so we can reveal what is fake and what is true within society
for no one but ourselves for once

For our path takes us to the real Oz
not a dream, poem or vision
and thankfully as I am sad
I find some friends to laugh with and some friends to cry
worthy additions to our party
out of billions they somehow arise

Time now does not boil over
apathy replaced by gladness up high
no it did not make the sleepness nights any harder, easier, fewer or more
but it made a whole eternity as sense and purpose became clear
just you and me - friends, travel, art, breath

and immortal...
life eternal

Here lies glory

Never knew what was a dream
what was a tale, what was a lie
i set my eyes, fixed in trance
upon stone and liquid,
all from the land

my dear baroque images abound
never have you spoken to me
only been the present force
when i commune with a giant
from a far away land

then it came to pass
as all hope for life wasted out of a tired body
that the god i had been seeking
was sculpted by a man

inspirations for a king
apprenticeships for the government
what has transpired this day
will be here forever

true everlasting life in the warm lips
of a lover, true and tried, false and lied
as i recount situations abound
in the heart of one, it remains
never to be found

Short Story - Honesty is a policy

It hasn't always bothered me.  It just seemed to be there.  It is as ubiquitous as the air we breathe.  But no matter how much I try, this feeling drapes over me.  Curious, I try to open it up and have a look.  Always gone, it seems.  It appears I have got to a point where I am confused, not knowing the route, looking back to where I have gone wrong.  But the feeling remains.  It is not as if I should run and hide.  It is not as if I should stand up on the highest podium, singing aloud for all members of society to hear.  It is as if I should be.

Well I suppose you could call it an awakening, where everything moves and talks differently.  People engage in conversation and cars flow up and down the highway.

It used to bother me.  Perhaps I should not have cared so much to be different.  To be a teenage rebel is to stray from the norm, make war with a complacent life and listen to alternative pop instead of pop pop.  But what happens when you realise - I was wrong.  I have been wrong.  I will always be wrong.  All because of one thing - there is no right.  I can never be right, because there is no right, there is only wrong.  So far, that means, I have done right.

Now I can sit and smile.  All the years I was a rebel, I was the same.  I merely acted out a role in a different group.  After shunning all that I once thought was life, I realised something.

Before I get into that, I forgot what else used to bother me.  I was so scared of being nobody.  Job, partner, kids - never on my list of priorities.  I scorned and joked about those who chose that path.  But now I see that this is a perfect life - for some.  For others, like myself, who choose not to be a part of this will lead a richer life.  You don't have to lead or scorn a life - be prepared in knowledge that others live like this and crave nothing else but security.  From a young age a purpose in life is set, as plaster is poured into a mould.  

I realised that I took a step back.  Yes, I just admitted that I took a step back.  Now that is being a rebel!  No fancy commodification can lure me, that is in the future, in front. No embarrassment can fill me, the screen is in the past, behind.  So do not just mock and scorn.  If these are your enemies, take from them everything.  Use what you need, throw the rest away to rot behind, burning in magma.  The rest strengthens your sight to forge new paths ahead.  Hammer, sickle, compass and square are no good here - only a smile, pen, book and the wind through your hair.

From my new position I can see what is in front of me.  

I can hold the hands of people beside me.  

I can be closer to the shaping elements behind me.  

I can be me.  

This is not too simple a task, do not underestimate the power of being a manifested living human flesh machine.  You always have to be in a societal group, you cannot hang around your parents/siblings and you must be a success in every career path you choose.  Sound familiar?  To me it sounds primitive.  Get angry, bash someone.  Rebel by being the same as other people.  Partner leaves, get depressed.  Numbers in a bank account equate to success.  Heroes are actors.  Now this constitutes primitive behaviour to me.  

Now I am doing what many find impossible - I am floating between societal groups.  I latch onto nothing.  I fly over the top, viewing from above the beauty within.  One day here, one day there, swooping in, crawling out.  I belong nowhere.  I belong nowhere!  I am free to do anything.  Not because I have nothing - but because I have everything.

On a day, I thought this

I am thinking.  All the time this occurs, the earth rotates around the sun.  One day has passed.  I thought about some things during this occurrence.  Other men/women have thought some things between the sun coming up, then down, then back up again.  If only our organic matter could last a seeming eternity.  This would ensure that one had enough time to properly think and create new ways of thinking.  

Do you need an eternity for that?  I dont think so.  You need only seconds.  Negative thoughts are resounding, but slowly being quashed.  I do not have an eternity to think, I only have years.  Therefore I better stop wasting my time, descending into life's omnipresent nihilism created by oneself, for oneself.  It has never been clearer the extent of the human mind - It is shaped by your thoughts, which are shaped by other people's thoughts, which are shaped by what people think a normal person in society should have thoughts about.  Rationality, it seems, is an underestimated tool in one's life.  Stupidity, it seems, is an overestimated tool in the search for societal normality within a flesh cage.

Keep your philosophy negative and scathing, and your artworks positive and breathtaking

I. Thoughts

It is a sullen, rainy autumn's night. Two friends are enjoying the calm, safe indoor atmosphere as the water descends outside. Only the faint light of the television illuminates the soft-coloured lounge, with the warm glow of a halogen light in another room casting an ominous glare through the living room. Alison is sitting on the lounge in a cuddled up position watching the television, a look of amazement to the point of tears upon her face. Enter Jodie, who stands next to the couch watching what is on:

J - It would appear another dogma has failed

A - It would appear all that is dogma and all that surrounds the concept has failed

J - Seriously, it isn't that bad

A - Well, I think it is

J - Well, you should lighten up

A - Well, you should fuck off
(Both ladies erupt in laughter. Jodie takes a seat next to Alison)

A - I can't help but watch TV, there are some amazing things you would not even know of without it

J - You don't have to generalise TV, what about books, pictures, the internet...

A - TV just seems to perfectly marry images and sounds to convey a message

J - Whose message? Not mine. What about the net, you can watch videos, is that the same as TV, or television programs on the net, does that count, or does the different setting throw you off...

A - Ha Ha. Yeah, but it feels as if I was there, touching the history that has shaped my life and future. I am in the room, a helpless fly on the wall as important decisions are made. My eyes and ears are open, but the feeling evokes from the centre of my being

J - And were you there?

A - Well, No, but...

J - So who fucking knows what happened

A - I do, I just watched it manifested in my lounge room

J - O Come on (makes wanking sign with hand)

A - Well what do you know

J - As much as you

A - Don't you feel the pain of thousands before you then?

J - No, why should I? They had theirs now I have mine. The reaction you get from watching a television program and the feelings experienced in a room of people are two completely different constructed things. All constructed for a reason - to evoke a feeling. It isn't a bad thing Alison, watch it, enjoy it, but at the same time, decide what is worth worrying about and what isn't.

A - What about death, is that worth worrying about?

J - Is he or she here?

A - I hope not

J - Not much you could do anyway. Just like there is not much you can do about past generations. Just keep doing what gets you off, woman.

A - watching TV and contemplating life through the shows get me off, Jodie

J - (sighs, happily) - then who am I to complain

(Both parties laugh lightly, knowing full well the subject of death breeched is nothing to laugh at as its fear consumes us all)

The 3 essentials

It would appear that for the author life has spiralled into three essentials:

1. Time - This always has and always will be. People and events came before, as they will after.

2. Life - Along this spectrum of time there is life. Different people live at different times, but this does not change the essentials.

3. Death - If life had to contain one truth this would be it. Everything that lives must die.

The purpose of this blog is to discuss the above memento mori issues in varying forms of art. The subject matter is hardly macabre, just a fact of life. Therefore battling to discover "truths" is just a valid concept as to "laugh". Perhaps not enough emphasis on life is focused on the latter.

O, life can be terrible until you die
pressure, whinge and whine
It was not until I smirked at death
that life suddenly injected a breath

I deliberately did not conform
bitter and twisted i walked
still that life continues
but now i analyse that stroll
funny arms and legs
wave around
chest beats hard
clothing on to protect the skin
from a world so harsh

i used to scorn at the cross
and all who followed
preached and prayed
until I looked how intricate
the artwork of a man
was here for evermore

i feel his pain, sweat and angst
not by an ethereal empathy syringe
but by the grooves in the wood
made by another human hand

and my tears shall flow
i cannot seem to hold them back
lack of every worthy attribute
in our society not the cause
but the beauty that surrounds me
in every shape and form
inspired by a saviour, nemesis and scorn

please do not forget
the noble stranger will not
learn from mistakes of times gone past
not from the rotting mouth
but the personal symbols, emblems
and inspirations of a wild bunch
ready to laugh at death

a little more intricate than a cross...