Beware the gremlin (a rhyme i wrote to scare the little children)

On midsummer's eve when the moon is dark
and on the cow bell's toll and far dog's bark
comes the sound on the breeze of dancing feet
beware, oh children, take care, take heed!

Do not dare wander into that black night
where the faeries dance on brambles light
instead hide your heads and shut your eyes
and pray that others should be so wise

For wicked gremlins with the faeries dance
and spells they shall spin as they sylphlike prance
and you they'll bewitch if find you they should
upon yonder henge and in yonder wood.

Une comptine d'une autre été:

dappled sunlight on closed eyes
the green of his eyes brimming with tears
the sound of a distant harmonica
climbing the pomegranate tree
leaping cat
le moulin abandonné
white dove perched in the ivy
wind through the gum trees
sitting on the window sill
curtains billowing in the breeze
tangerine haze of cloudy sky
apple peels
hovering sunbird
comptine d'une autre été

Allen Ginsberg

Have you heard of beatnik? Jack Kerouac? Allen Ginsberg? The original generation x, sacrificed to the Moloch of society and hung up on drugs till they were driven mad...
some excerpts:

The Howl, for Carl Solomon

i)
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking
for an angry fix.
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connec-
tion to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up
smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats
floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to heaven under the El and saw
Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs
illuminated
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes halluci-
nating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the
scholars of war

[part one is about 5 pages long so i wont give you all of it, just my favourite bits]

who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for
Eternity outside of Time & alarm clocks fell on their heads
every day for the next decade

who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison
Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter
of the iron gates of the regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks
of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister
intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxi-
cabs of Absolute Reality

iii
Carl Solomon! i'm with you in rockland
where you're madder than i am
i'm with you in rockland
where you must feel very strange
i'm with you in rockland
where you imitate the shade of my mother
i'm with you in rockland
where you've murdered your twelve secretaries
i'm with you in rockland
where you laugh at this invisible humour
i'm with you in rockland
where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter
i'm with you in rockland
where your condition has become serious and is reported
on the radio

i'm with you in rockland
where you scream in a straitjacket that you're losing the
game of the actual pingpong of the abyss
i'm with you in rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent
and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed
madhouse
i'm with you in rockland
where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its
body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void

i'm with you in rocklands
where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own
souls' airplanes roaring over the roof they've come to drop
angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary
walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry-
spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory
forget your underwear we're free
i'm with you in rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the
highway across america in tears to the door of my cottage
in the Western night

chaos and the dancing star

i am a social construct with chaos in my soul. so tell me, Nietsche, where's the dancing star? and WHAT is the dancing star (more importantly)? clarity? joy?
am i carrying around too much negativity? i thought i was positively cloudlike! but apparently not. e i s h.

farewell waltz.

it's temporary

i said.
i lied.

it's permanent. goodbye.

Goodbyes

She hates goodbyes.

So i said, well, cheers mate. It's been real. I pulled a funny face as she walked through the gate. We waved. She was gone.

I hate goodbyes.

I'll miss you

from a tuna hill

cracked

my heart
turned to ice
clattered through every storey of me
until it reached the soles of my feet
and cracked

now it lies
melting fragments
in front of me
i cannot piece it together again.

goodbye, dear heart.

fork in the road

choices. stupid annoying little things. and feelings. FUCK 'EM ALL.

i think it would be simply wonderful to spin into a million butterflies and flutter brightly away.

crystal tears

i have been left stutteringly wordless. language abandons me in my time of greatest need. i have noticed that i truly do live in a world of black and white. words surround me, lift me, push me on. and then, when i need them to create a smoke screen, to help me blind myself, they lose their power. and the mist clears and i am left shivering and alone on my pebble surrounded by a shifting mass of reality with which i simply find myself unable to cope.

if i could speak to him, i wouldn't know what to say, or do. i would only shiver.

i wish i had an emotion pensieve. if the emotion became too much to bear, we could drain it away, until we once again felt numb. instead, we have drugs - a colourful mirage to throw over our emotions, to stifle them. weed is great for pain, i've noticed. it gives one this effortless floating sensation, makes one go, 'pain? ha, what pain? i laugh in the face of pain!' Unfortunately, lack of feeling frightens me as much as pain does. without feeling, even if that feeling is pain, how do we know that we're alive. so i can only stumble forward through this pain, and hope that i make it through the dusk.

i have an inkling of what i might say to him now.
I miss the feel of your hair through my fingers, your arms around me, your eyes, the sound of your whisper. i miss your faith, your grace, you strength. i miss your hands, your smile. i miss dancing with you and driving with you. i miss talking to you, i miss your fingers in MY hair. i miss your hug. i miss your heart. i miss a piece of my heart, the piece i gave to you, where there is now nothing but a hole. i miss you.

singledom: the grass on the other side of the hill

well, so much for my higher brow blog. off it goes, sailing straight out of that window.
my boyfriend is back from the outer (political) reaches of asia. thank goodness. the lingering feeling of being someone's lost property has been banished.
but, in his absence, i did take cognisance of the fact that being single has its perks. now, don't be alarmed, baby, but really girls, have you ever tried to buy your guy a really nice christmas present? and drinking with a whole bunch of single guys? FUN. not like THAT! get your head out of the gutter. it's just fun, period. and dancing crazily with your girlfriends in a packed sweaty club? also fun! eish, to quote leo. EISH.
however, i must say, being in a great relationship has it's definite pro's. (i would know, i'm in a great relationship, ask anyone)
firstly, no third wheel syndrome/only-single-in-the-room syndrome
secondly, great prezzies:)
thirdly, arms of a loved one are a great place to be
fourthly (is that a word) well, i speak for myself here, but i couldn't wish for a sweeter, better, more caring guy.

despite all this, i miss my friends, i really do. not my boyfriend's friends, god knows i see enough of them:p (they're great though, really), but MY friends, that made all on my ownsome. and i want them back! hence my new years resolution:
FRIENDS DAY! so i get the best of both worlds, single with friends, but still in a happy relationship. if anyone tries to argue against the logistics of this, i will get someone (god knows who) to roundhouse kick them.

so yes, im a single girl in a relationship:p