Beautiful catastrophe

a man stands outside on the phone, the cat hair is in view, the deep well of love is within, in the glint of the cats eye, in the sigh of a child when the ice cream van vanishes round the corner,the wellspring of love and joy is in the reflection of a single droplet of rain, in the wake left in the air after someone speaks, in the grasses shadow, in a coal mine, in the anticipation of a hummingbird as it smells the sweet promise of a meeting, in the thick atmostphere of a bridgetollways booth, it is the pigeons breath, the wave of a friend in the heath, the glimmer of shimmers on a spiders silk, in his dreams, in her waking moments, the promise, the colours, the space between the walls, the untrodden field of corn, the roughness and strength of a rhinos horn, the plastic of a car dash, the steam that lifts off a mash, in every crack and seem of time and in the belt buckle you see in the shop draw, 2nd one down, the intricate recipe of the divine, the saddness, the tears, they all dissapear and are tucked under the wing of the prayer, the calling , the longing and calling of your name, for your name is my name, on the slipstream that just is...

the storm within

A rough drowning, the heart sinks, low lower, breathing water, desperate and alone, the heart that is misunderstood settles at the bottom of the ocean amongst the seaweed, yearning like the coral sings for the sun and the sand yearns for some treasure to be buried there to keep it company with its preciousness, the darkness creeps and catches your doubt and freezes it cold, a life needs water and sunlight, but at the bottom of the sandy cravass, the cold dark water ripples in the emotions and sends a repeated signal of pain to the shores of the skin and indifference. the miracle of life is not always so, and so i lay swaying in the sand at the bottom , waiting for treasure to fall and embrace me.

Meeting Point: bogon ski centre

We met at the bogon ski centre in mount beauty to discuss our latest mission. Which was to find the sasquatch (yeti) living in the mountains that was really a robot covered in fur that was planted by the enemy agents from pyle's coaches. A coach company with cold concrete seats to help you develop pyles. This way you wouldnt be able to get help via the coach transit route as you would be seeking medical help and advice.

mission kit

When i go on missions i like to pack a spy kit. Here are some of the things i put in it:

*cuff - link simulator
*change of underwear
*toothpaste
*fake toothpaste that is really high explosives
*lunchnbox listening device
*guitar strings
*potato crisp camera( packet doubles as satelite reciever)
*guitar case that turns into a fake tennis court that is really a safe house
*a pen

plane text

Agent Nodrog Nat and myself went on a mission to Bogong Mount Beauty in Victoria. While on the plane, we wrote a lovely poem together on a sick bag. Here is the poem we wrote, one line each as fast as we could and swapped it continuously until it matured at the end.

plastic envy a mouse confides
putting lost toys in yellow carts
the aerial perspective of a table leg
truly the clock of coming alive
upholstery of the heart of a parrot
giving love to the cast fidelity
where did my green bowl go to?
resting in the glory of the last carrot
emotional architecture with lashings of gravy
the peas of life roast in lifes oven
in the circus of unjustified crustated sentiment
no more, no more of this sad reality
I like my stoke on trent curtain opera
the fire built, the actor sings with dissonate anger
lifts his corduroy covered polo mallet slightly dipped
to the summit of closed exits
to steal the last breath of empty longing
and iron out the creases in the shirt of embarrassment
fold the fabrics of lust and love
stich the thread of an interrupted gaze at a stoates shadow
and fall far below the sight of craving
so raise your glass and your eyebrow at this highbrow conversation
three cheers, three beers no fears
a particle of dust, a monkeys trust and a box of blue football pitches
dirt to the apes anz and Russell crow
take a ride on the titanic through the magma, engage in the therapy of an unloved terrapin
climb the mountain of sinking insanity
the sponge people live on the sponge planet, can you beat them at chess?
if so, would you prey for rain on the spongy planes?
rain on the plane falls mainly on the game
hard RAW choices and my design for an oil tanker
one billion lady birds thinking at the same time, what colour would the thoughts be?

island reconnaissance

deployed at long island. Whitsundays. Mission: to contemplate, look at water and drink from coconuts and play "what a wonderful world" at a wedding. Real mission: to locate and secure the jellyfish simulator. I consulted the mission safety handbook on numerous occaisions.Waiting 45 mins for breakfast in airley beach prompted me to learn a new language. I learned klingon. After fighting the crustated squid crab people for hrs every night I finally got my hands on the jellyfish simulator and started making real use of my time by looking at things I thought other people were going to look at. I made a hammock out of my guitar strings and rested after the mission.

titanic sails

The wall is up, like the side you favor when the coin falls, I am surrounded by walls, I am here because I caught the titanic, I booked a room and sailed here through the magma, and now I am sitting here. I can see my hands but I cant see my face, I think about the rain sometimes when its not there. I here my own voice in my head, but im not speaking it, I spend a lot of time with myself from when I am born up until the time I leave this place, in fact I spend everysecond of my life with myself. sometimes I get bored of myself, of my own thoughts, wow , imagine if I was really boring, it would be torture to be hanging out with myself for 80 odd yrs. I like hommos and I just had some, A goat rang me yesterday, no it didnt,I got a call from a jester today, when I met him, this jester , he was reading a book on quantum physics. That image puts the humor back into existence, its quite a sight. When the titanic sails through the magma, it gets hot and it kind of kills you and burns u up, you know but because its imaginary, its ok, I don't get hurt and the noises are quite strange as it sails. I recommend it as a mode of transport, but if not, you can take a seat on a tiger moth and fly through the ennio morricone spagetti western sets while watching clint as you pass over a gunfight. (if you were to eat a sandwhich at this point, it could fly out of your hands)You will always end up back here, as u r now, u r here sitting with yourself.