Yippee Calloo Callay!

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

Sunday, 12 February 2012

Skin Light.

Skin Light

Dragon stole the sun
now ive got no one
sitting in my hole
im about to blow one
smoke ring lacing like a heart on fire
as the days turn to black i
start to scratch harder
chasing after the dragon that stole my sun
sinking in the floor boards
has the devil won
if a monkey on the back
is the sweetest disease
if a monkey on the back
is the sweetest disease

tearing off close but im not there
skinless bones just coming up for air
staring into the dragon
that stole my sun
now shes gone
the devils one
is a monkey on my back
its the sweetest disease
is a monkey on my back?
its the sweetest disease

Thursday, 9 February 2012



the morning the sunrise the line the girl the white tears child you are born i see it the sunlight cant you read my face were here here to smile i like you but what i see is death dead ends dead roots dead heads my own body walking away a way a way softly chanting to another morning it wasnt me that told you to be so cruel i thought it wasnt but it was im cruel to the feed more and more and more push it its too easy to think that i was riding the wave when really i was buried deep a pin and a circus
the point of the camera was to take pictures the only thing was it was against the soul did you ever look into the lens through the glass onto the other side i remember the memories a word or two cut into something new snipped snipped away trimming the past like a bonsai tree into a more desirable shape, who made the shapes anyway, i wasnt about to find out. The thing with cameres is they make me think of the reptile fund, a crocodile watch strap, something about the snake skin feel, the eyes, reptilia camera lens, for a moment in time has to be stopped or looked upon taken either known in which case changed or unknown in which case the watcher watches on, a line repeated gurged out of the sea, behind the camera never has their photo taken, if a camera captures the soul, then the camera is the enemy, unless these souls need to be imprisoned, ghost walkers, were all dead, its easy to see, many times many many, the ghosts of our bodies trying to get back to life, be carefull where you travel ghost walker, no camera can capture my soul, there is no camera complex enough with its design, to see all the shifting colours and shapes that spin like leafs on string inside of me, then from being at one i am washed into grey, overtaken by all the beating hearts around me, stolen into disrupture, a lying on a rock
brave new one kicks in
it kicks in hard
wisting away
the red drops
if i want to die then surely i cannot die but if i really want to die then surely i can die why would i stay
it seems hard to make sense of anything
this track is easy
then something comes along
to keep you going
its not living
its breathing
or maybe i fell off the edge
and im trying to get back on
back through to the other side
where its not just another thing to keep you alive
really enjoying
it maybe be better to stop
so i stepped through another place into a field of apple seeds
and the wind blew on my skin
rivers running long
these veins are paint for you to brush
out of earth
set the spirits free