Friday 23 November 2007
THE GOBBLER
Well, is he?
Slack-jawed avatar of monkey justice. The sky is like an elevator - it descends one floor at a time, softly juttering with the onset of evening. The sun's a slowly deflating balloon seen through a mist of heavy-handed similes. Phhhsst.
Your filthy fist is wrinkled like an old man's knee. Wounded biological furniture. A pancake of eyes. Hey, that broom just winked at me! The Gobbler's car pulls up outside.
Tarnished, like brass or an old painting of an ice-cream flaking scales of varnish. An image shedding skin. I'm thinking of using psoriasis as a metaphor here. For what I'm not really certain. The Gobbler got there first.
Hemmed-in by possibilities. Cornered by options.
Sunday 14 October 2007
cocaine jesus said...
discharge2
12:51 PM
Posted to end at the beginning
Delete Comment
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now find us here...discharge3 and here...(THE) discharge (series)
Thursday 4 October 2007
moonchild
"Shes a moonchild
Gathering the flowers in a garden.
Lovely moonchild
Drifting on the echoes of the hours."
.
.
.
original photo courtesy of doriandra smith.
image manipulation by cocaine jesus.
song lyrics by Peter Sinfield from the King Crimson song "Moonchild"
Cycle
Wednesday 3 October 2007
Hi,
i am cocaine jesus.
underground went overground long before punk.
DIY.
prog. underground. indie.
more shit than a gents convenience.
liberal.
attitude in shades.
never grey.
news of the world expressed a dislike for my red shoes.
wore pink.
must be gay.
humanity sits in the gutter.
awaiting its fate.
sausage meat convenience.
manners costs a smile.
a fortune in street cred.
bank balance nil.
where sttt
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this is how it'll be, see.
See this... which follows:
We're about to lose heads.
We're about to sharpen a stick in praise of you, you head-loser.
Before (though)...
Well, watch this...
We have missiles.
In our pockets is missilesssss.
See, now(-wise),
creeper, blundering through the fudge.
You stand-up comedian.
You train of thought.
We're about to cut you up.
Tuesday 2 October 2007
Monday 1 October 2007
Satori Machine
beneath endless reinvention
cascading trumpets and non-linear virus circuitry diseases...joining ovular carnage...immersion within bleeding mushroom sex...gifted the other half with the possibility of separation and thus autonomy...divine sensory catastrophe promises to star in my life with equal measure
folded your past like recombinant cells draining all logic chained to scenes of infection
we'll start with the aliens and roll deep...beyond blood
whorls of suicide data vibrate naked sleep...earthen ashes...semen hours thrown behind dealings painting a burn-mark...subtle exhumed ideas...grace steeling the microbes against way back when implosions
mutant insanity lubricant for two, please
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image manipulation by stickleback2 and cocaine jesus
Sunday 30 September 2007
Attack on the Artic
Saturday 29 September 2007
at the belly fish disco 2
"the plane was bad enough. i mean, you know what these cheap airlines are like but then, excuse me if i shock you, this huge coon gets on the plane with this howling niggerr baby. i mean sheeit. all we wanted was a quiet flight without a jungle bunny and its fucking baby wailing like death.
the coon was a lazy fucker too. his missus asked him to carry some luggage, i mean all he had was a camera in his hand, and he grunted, the way they do, NO.
lazy black fucker.
i think they ought to bring back segregation."
Friday 28 September 2007
Black Skulls which rot
crowded
atrophies from the back section light fades in
edge of addict stasis
name prostitute emission radiation screen
bone thin curtain of the green one that covers the skinny immovable skeletal dust body
echo chamber and electricity
the living room
the broken basement
there is no window
dark velvet and fetish of the wine
the film seeks to capture your eyes dead
the nail of the prosthetic finger which is broken by the prostate gland
for your final synaptic landscape tremor
empty the self of rotten skulls
the light fades in from the back
the end of the nameless world
for the addict stasis
name prostitutes on the radiating screen
several covered in jewellery and moisture
a shade of green covering the skinny immobile skeletal body in dust
riffs with electricity
broken affairs on the basement
without windows
dark wine velvet and fetish
a film aimed at capturing your blindfolded death
old
in between
wars affiche
empty since Black Skulls disappeared
from the back End of the World
unknown stasis for drug addicts
prostitutes radiation screen
several covered jewelry and water
a shade of green coverage bone thin body of dust
the living room and the electricity
the broken basement
no windows
the dark velvet wine and fetishism
the film seeks to capture your eyes dead
the old war between the affiche
yo drain a similar one in light
of the descolora part posteriora
no names of the end of the world
one of the stasis of drug addicts
prostitutes are known to the radiation screen
several areas of the shop and humidity
green screen, including real thin bone of dust
the living room and the electricity
breaking disciplines in the cellar
no window
fetishism and dark velvet wine
the film, like its target catch your eyes dead
average old war affiche
prostate broken fingernail
courtain announced
your last synaptic landscape tremor
the descolora light inside of the posteriora part
the end of the world without name
for the stasis of the addict one
several places setting in jewelry shop
and humidity curtain of the green one that covers the skinny immovable skeletal dust body
riffs with electricity
subjects broken in the cellar
without the windows
dark velvet and fetish of the wine
a film had like objective capturing of you
average blindfolded death
of the wars
broken prosthetic fingernails
announce the courtain
for your final synaptic landscape tremor
first-rate prostitute of emission screen
the film directed the death which is blindfolded to capture
affiche of old intermediate war
ever since the black skull
drug usual person
overturned the jewels and the water
the dust is thin
as for the film to capture your eye completely, you endeavor
plural areas of store and humidity
illuminating together
bone substance
Thing God
worship
RIFF of electricity
there is no window
velvet and fetish where the wine is dark
in the film like your objective capture
there was a death
the nail of the prosthetic finger which is broken
announcement curtain
for the trembling view
'The Being' as interpreted by the jin.
it says:
That guy should have some cake before he falls to his demise.
Thursday 27 September 2007
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twice. optimist and oak...
Old Oak
His forest now a park,
that forest = your heart which was once natural and limitless is now groomed and defined by civilization. So far, this is the way life goes for all humans. We grow up, and get with the societal rules. Instead of all of the pristine naturalness we know as a child, our heart becomes constrained, or even imprisoned by society’s rules, and values, until we come to look civilized.Old oak stands broad and tall.
The oak is an Idea (probably your God idea) which spans generations (which has been in your families belief system for generations), and is yet is viewed as having strength, and as being of high esteem (tall, and broad).
Now-a-days, this is what your interaction with your inherited belief system/God idea involves
Boy sprawling amongst twisted oak roots, Daydreaming and mind playing.Boy = an undeveloped sense of what you desire. Daydreaming= you not thinking clearly (This means, you don’t actually know what you really want in life. So you are daydreaming your way through your life instead of living out what you want. What you have always thought you wanted to do with your life is not what you’d truly like to do.)
Youth, haunch squatting, amidst twisted oak roots, Youth= a slightly more developed sense of what you desire (in other words, there is something you are relatively ore conscious of desiring, and it is to be ...) Squatting amidst twisted roots = you are not sitting, resting (which would indicated belief). Instead you are squatting (which indicates you are pondering). You are pondering the partially hidden, and perhaps evil (twisted) foundations (roots) of your inherited God idea. Absconding lessons, smoking stolen cigarettes. While you are busy pondering the twisted roots of your God idea, you are also busying yourself with avoiding learning truth. No doubt, the twisted roots of your god idea have made you fear finding out that there is no truth, so why bother learning it. Also, you smoke stolen cigarettes (which is a symbol of speaking in harsh, burning judgmental language, that is not how you truly feel, you stole these from others)
Young man loitering around twisted oak roots, A young man= a desire you are even more conscious of having, that of desiring to experience a lover in the context of the example of the evil roots that have founded your idea of God. (You find yourself drawing from this twisted example in your relationships with a lover) I think it’s interesting that it is a POTENTIAL lover. This is an objective term for an inherently subjective, personal, situation. Awaiting assignation with potential lover.
Father leaning, back to trunk, feet on twisted oak roots, The Father (probably your father) is viewed as leaning on the tree (that is, depending on his God idea for some kind of support) and all the while his feet (his walk, his actions) are walking out the twisted evil deeds that fucked up (twisted) your idea of God to begin with. Sorry, I got a bit carried away there. {I guess, if I am wrong about this, then I’m gonna be monumentally wrong, aint I}Watching his family at play. Your Dad stands by and watches you play at living life, knowing He is probably responsible, and not saying a word to you of what he did.
Old man standing, staring at twisted oak roots, I am not sure, but maybe this is your Grandad. I need to know if your Old Man is staring at the roots in fond reminiscence (in which case He too would have been involved in evil behavior), or in sad disappointment (in which case He may have been a past positive link with the original, untainted God idea in your heart)Flashing glimpses of times past, rolling through befuddled mind.
A fond tear falls from cheek, to feed twisted oak roots. dittoOld man wanders on, half smile hanging from sagging flesh.
Boy sprawling amongst twisted oak roots, Daydreaming and mind playing.
Old oak watches another generation flash past, His forest now a park. Restatement. The outcome of the twisted roots in your god idea is that the forest (your once natural heart) is now a civilized park (a showy place). In other words, Because you were made distant from God by means of some family evil on the part of your Father, you are now likewise distant from a sense of Gods’ destiny, purpose, and meaning for you. Thus you can’t discover, or believe in the true you, and you thus long for death. It is the death of that version of you produced by the twisted root that needs to die however. If it does, you will find your true self, and be alive for the first time in your whole life. By the way, don’t let shame over your own misdeeds keep you from getting this healing. We all have sinned.
This little poem is the true story of your life. Why do you think God gave you the stuff to write it? I think God is trying to undo the damage done to you in His name by your father. And He is doing this because He loves the real you. Give Him a chance to show you He isn’t as advertised. Make your own contact with Him, and work out the personal issues that are required for the two of you to become one again.
Your bud in Nashville, TN, John Brusseau.
P.s. I can't ask you to be my MySpace friend because your settings don't allow bands. You could maybe add me though, I'm not sure.
Wednesday 26 September 2007
Tuesday 25 September 2007
craven
if only she knew the flat line of razor.
a defining moment that trip wires.
caustic as a slow nail driven bone flesh.
a dry fuck that tinder chars.
carpet burns on the heart and soul.
time before now she dreamt of angels.
taut wings spread like cathederal tiles.
hollow cheeks spun limpid pools.
eyes that sought blue flame novas.
dark white-grey ravenous.
a trick of a mockery of god.
now she takes nights via white lines
and blue stars that carve signs
on her knees and spine.