Yippee Calloo Callay!

You have reached the foot hill of the mountains.
You are most welcome
More than worthy

Tuesday, 31 August 2010

Albert Ross.

Albert ross

Stop the train
I want to get off
Some songs are like paint dripping. I’m swimming in a room of paint, the smell is intoxicating all my senses are alive such soft bright drippy feeling. Blue paint drops in my eyes little flecks on my lashes splashes on my lips. It feels like a warm hug this song. Nestled gently beside the fire. Surfing lazily to hawai. Tony heart. Smart. Art attack. Wall paper in the gallery. Two taps running into the bath. A plug. Red water. Falling falling into a pile of clouds. Wings of birds flapping above lapping ocean waves. Diamonds floating in the sky. Sweet sunshine dancing on the water. Everybody wants to rule the world. Stop this train the worlds gone mad. How long have we been in the know. Ski-ing zig zags down the slopes. Mother nature come and taste her. Black Bessie wins the game of pool. I cant stand this indecision. Stuck on my own pain like a masochistic jingliest. Who doesn’t get spots. I get spots. Spots go pop. Stripes wash off. Zebras rock. Its been a long time since I was at Zebras rock. The twinkling dust falling through my hair. I wonder if the armchairs still there. Sat on the porous stone. Comfortable as a soft hoodie green bear. Cosy as a coat made of air, I wrapped my self in a ball of wool. Floating out. Lapping up the sun as others dive head first into the pool. Water leaps out to rain in his bare skin. Sun glasses catch the flapping wings. Hey Mr and Mrs dove. Your floating too. Hah. I was wearing one shoe. A flip flop. Two feet just one shore. Bouncing along to the vision. Pluck away plucky keep clucking clucky one love to Maid Marian. So brave and impeteous. Those floating fireflys get me every time. Bit like sandy shores white beaches. Weals from the belt. Fainting at the site of a poker in the fire. Mister. What we fighting for. You me each other. Turned our backs on mother nature. Wears your gas mask. Stop the train I want to get off. Iron falls. Its a bit like that albatross except with a comfy paint pot. No lip gloss. Let the lids off. Paint falls. The tallest warter fall. Acting on your best behaviour. Socks and blazer. How good would it be to smash everything in a house. Open up all the paint pots and let the paint fall. Spend a lifetime gazing happily at all the different colours. Lost in heaven. Happy Birthday. Please sir. That mean old sherrif took my birthday present. Everybody wants to rule the world. Goodnight Mister Tom.

Monday, 30 August 2010

The two angry guys from behind door 17.

The two angry guys from behind door 17

I gave away a pink invisible squirrel for free to a guy that loves guys in my dreams. Just before raising my arm and squeezing the mound. A little red bump that sat nicely in my arm pit.

In the corridor from behind the door. The song crept beautifully. “I’m weeping, I’m weeping, I’m weeping,” and then turned into a harmony,
“Were reaping, were reaping, were reaping.”

I joined in, with a word exchange,
“Nice one Jimmy”
Then went back to sticking black leather patches on the floor. Bang bang! My fist punched twice into the door of a locker by the wall, I pretended I was cool, open sesame, little honey bee.

A lost photo from Nepal, caught asleep, surrounded by friends, two half eaten pears one bitten apple and a pair of untouched peaches lay in the bed next to me as I dreamt.
The address all wrong but somehow the letter found its way.
Honey, maybe it was the letter b’s or just the letter bee.

Up midweek at 03:00am in a bobby blue dressing gown sitting on a deep down blue sofa with no soul at all eating toast from a plate, after failing at the spinning comedy hall. Humming above me, the constantly flickering electric lights of the kitchen played with the lack of morning sun. I wondered if anyone would be about, apart from me, the flickering lights and the chirping birds outside.
Then Kate Little came creeping out from behind her door. Who was the girl with? A red headed toddler with bunches that she was looking after, I’d never seen her before, was it Kate’s niece, excitedly I called her name,
“Kate, Kate,”
“Yes” she replied in a voice like a camel carrying a heavy load upon its back. I was not the straw to break her, Kate turned into Sarah and could not believe that I was there.
Yet there I was. How we rejoiced, then I went to show her my photo from Nepal but it changed, just like the kitchen, just like Kates face, crazy how peoples faces can change second by second, hour by hour, now there was a pool table, and Muslims playing pool. It was Ramadan so it was time to eat, and off we went to lend the other kitchen a hand there being two kitchens on this floor.

Outside, beautiful music came floating through the cracks in a door. As I looked at Sarah laying patches of leather on the floor, I flirted with another girl in attempt to make her want me more, and then banged my fist twice upon a locker to open it up, I saw this on T.V and thought it would make me appear smooth. A confrontation erupted in the hall. Jealousy, envy or just plain mad. I’m not mad I said, my papers are all in order and as you’ll see there’s no white lines, no tip ex. That just got them madder and they were the ones accusing me of being mad, crazy. The more I talked and cracked jokes like eggs into a mixing bowl, the more Sarah shook her head from side to side, no.

Sometimes the system wants you to play along to the system, I think you’ll know what I’m talking about, like at airports, customs no messing about fool, just show the passport and answer the questions. No wisecracks and no beating about the bush. Surely everyone knows it’s just plain stupidity to pull out the I’ve got a bomb in my bag chestnut, but in a corridor at coming up to four in the morning, being harassed by someone for no reason, other than, I can only give the way I red what was going on, for stealing the scene, green eyes man, it was the greened eyed monster, Ha-ha, I told them I’m not mad, and that I had I.D, not on me but nearby, that was all cool, they believed me, alright.
So I heard a song, they were going to use it against me, said it shouldn’t have been heard. I said how good it was, it was really good, I managed to talk my way out of a fight and into Sarahs love, wise-cracking all the way, just as they were about to leave, one of the guys that loved guys from my dreams, muttered under his breath,
“yrrree fckkknng nmmm mnnnny ferrr bssskknng”
Which meant, you liked our song, so where’s our *** money eh, where’s our payment, where’s the busking fee, your going get stabbed were going to stab you, you *** cunt,

Harsh words not kind sure.

Spinning a pound coin in the air heads to tails, I asked them,
If I gave you a pound, what would you use that pound for, before they could answer I said, don’t worry about it too much because I’m not going to give you a pound, I’m not going to give you any money,
They were getting angry, until I spoke directly to the leader of this pair,
This is what I’m going to give you, and I held out my hand to show him, a pink invisible squirrel that plays hotel California on guitar, this squirrel had the lifetime guarantee to last forever and keep those it meets safe from harm, the guys finally went away sort of happy. For the time being they were in love with each other and the song they wrote together,
“were reaping, were reaping, were reaping.”
and at least they weren’t trying to stab anyone anymore. The photo from Nepal forgotten, me and Sarah got back to laying leather patches on the floor. Outside the kitchen, the bobbly blue carpet that ran along the corridor was surrounded on both sides by 27 closed, and one invitingly open wooden door.