somasamosa: the best value practitioner of UK gonzo poetry
                     super content-rich quality assurance verse

disclaimer: none of the poetry on here has been written by andrew motion

mission statement: repetitive administration of legitimate force            

_______________________________________________________________

Did you put my penis in the washing machine?

did you put my penis in the washing machine
why
well i ask because i'm fairly sure i had the item on me last night
however it's not there now alright
you know i always make sure i have my penis on my person before i turn out the light
so did you put my penis in the washing machine
you do realise it could bend or stretch in all the wrong places
god help us both if it shrinks
yes i am concerned
because i don't think my penis is machine washable
i bet you never even checked the label

so did you put my penis in the washing machine
it's not a trick question
a simple yes or no and i can glean
if my penis is drowning in chemical ultramarine
so did you put my penis in the washing machine
i'm surprised you did that
because you know how hygienic i am

so did you put my penis in the washing machine
no love it's too late now
i can't stop the machine now
it's half way through the spin cycle that's why
my penis is being spun out to dry
if my penis comes out with vertigo
well i just don't know
what happens if after i've put it back on
and it carries on spinning around
dizzy with vertigo
if it faints and keels over
that could be quite embarrassing for both of us you know
my penis could be covered in an embarrassed glow

so my love
did you put my penis in the washing machine
no it's not in my man bag
how do i know
because i don't have a man bag
they're horrible things
anyway i definitely had my penis on me last night
look love i don't want us to get into a fight
would you just be kind enough to shed some light
a simple yes or no would be nice
you must have taken my penis from me when i was sleepy
i think that's a bit sneaky
i love you but you are some times very cheeky
and to take a man's penis away it's not very nice

did you put my penis in the washing machine
or perhaps you put it in the oven
mistook it for a baby aubergine
did you put my penis in the washing machine
did you put it on a delicate silk wash
you know penis's are usually dry cleaned
- not put in washing machines
'cos i don't know why
maybe it makes them unstable
my love
look i'm not mad
so don't look so sad
just ask me next time
and read the label


Big Brother does not tolerate bullying of any description

big brother: we do not tolerate  bullying of any description
mcdonalds: we find the idea of killing defenceless animals for fast food truly abhorrent
and we always have
it goes against everything we believe in, obviously
al queda:
there is absolutely no place for suicide bombers within our organisation
and death to anyone who claims otherwise
big brother:
we do not tolerate bullying of any description

channel four:
big brother merely holds a mirror up to society and reflects the culture of bullying that lies within
george bush:
we drop cluster bombs on iraq only to expose the evil of unexploded landmines
harrods:
when our chauffer killed princess diana, he did it to to shine a light on the dangers of drink-driving without wearing a seatbelt
channel four:
big brother merely holds a mirror up to society and reflects the culture of bullying that lies within

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Ian Beale

so what is the meaning of ian beale
his blister-packed manhole charisma
has an almost profoundly mystical zen-like feel
ian ian
beale beale
beale ian beale beale
his universe knows the sound of one clapping eel

and what is the sound of ian beale
he's got a catering business
it's doing quite well
ian beale

ian ian
beale beale
ian ian ian
beales on wheels
his universe knows the sound of one clapping eel


[* for those of you fortunate enough to live outside america junior, ian beale is a "character" in the "cor blimey guv'nor, apples and pears, you wouldn't adam an' eve it" crap soap Eastenders]

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Fact

if you've got dandruff
chop off all your hair
if you like sweet-and-sour
eat a kebab in a chocolate eclair
if you're scared of heights
jump off in midair
the labour party are now
the conservative party at prayer

the labour party are now
the conservative party at prayer


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Candle of Dreadful Doggerel of the Wind

goodbye princess di - i never gave a toss
while you were alive although i was a bit sad when you died
you called out to our tabloids and they called out to you
you gave them your publicity - sometimes you were nearly nude

(start shedding tears)

and it seems to me like you lived your life like a candle in a mixed metaphor lyric
and the higher you rose your stakes so did your ubiquity
but when you were done in by a drunk driver the papers conspiracy-bid
because your candle will burn out long before their bullshit ever will

(raise your hands in the air)

see the tabloids had it tough for they didn't know how to spin
as just before you died they called you a bolemic airhead slapper chick
they called you a zombie and a malevolent blue eyed pest
then when you died hey presto! you transmogrified into the people's princess

(look a bit angry)

and it seems to me they lit your flame your a candle lit their wind
and you also sometimes played their game when you needed it
so when you died that sunday the editors had to re-spin
from a golden goose egg airhead to a holy mother theresa-like chick

(fire up your lighter, wave it in the air)

and how the bullshit piled so high the week after you died
the general public slagged off the paparazzi papers they always buy
they called the photographers murderers but when your funeral procession rode by
they took photos of your hearse 'cos you were the dead candle of their eye

so it seems to me that when you died
the hysteria reached the sky
diana killed by a pissed al fayed driver
bred conspiracy theories and lies
and the public refused to buy the papers
until the souvenier issues bid
and your reality burned out long before
so hello magazine never will

since then a diana-death-conspiracy industry spawned
and shamelessly to say
even now so many years on
every fifth-rate celebrity hack has something really important to say
for necrophilia makes money
for the obituary death squad junkies
but they deeply shared your life
and they also sincerely cared for your kids

(start crying and hugging each other)

and so it seems to me like you lived your life until a drunk driver got you killed
you should have worn a seatbelt now you're hack-roadkill
and i would not liked to have asked you what for you was real
'cos your reality burned down long ago
so their bullshit never will...

(weep hysterically and talk diana crap for the next ten years)


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mortgage slave

so do you dream-dread the mortgage-slave-trade
but can't yet afford a deposit for a guilded cage
even though you're prepared to pay from beyond-the-grave
and cremate yourself and rent out your coffin space for a second-wage

environmentally-friendly recycled wooden biodegradable compact bijoux flat
surrounded by grass, neo gothic masonry and selophane flowers
heavenly habitat, quiet neighbours, friendly god-squad bureaucrats
pleasant aspect to the bell tower

do you kamikaze-moth-to-flame watch the property shows
point a gun to your head and silently shout high-ho trigger
i've thought about becoming a stowaway on a u.f.o
maybe i can have a time-share with a benign cosmic triffid gorilla

joshua the estate agent blew his horn
so let's run and catch the falling walls of jericho
overdrawn prawns to the manor born
my financial vertigo's got real get-up-and-go

so do you dream-dread the mortgage-slave-trade
i hear baghdad's loaded with potential these days
you just gotta be a little imaginative - and into the craziest crazy-pave
and should i also see you drowning i'll promise to give you a wave


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Surfing with the Server Serfs

she's going on holiday
he's going on holiday
they so desperately need to get away
from their parched saharan freebase-clocker-offices
from their headache induced lobster-boiled head-spinning
from their closed-in guantanamo-temp-control hot-desking
dancing whirling-dervish tiptoes on red-hot coal floors
eyes merge and melt out
greenhouse-in-the-bag-humidity
slow-cooks the climate-meltdown shattered souls
scorpions crawl across their monitors
monitor lizard breath stench-gobs fetid air through buzz-flies-on-largactyl vents
some camels and a desert tribe wander past the tea point
and a band of coalition troops have just occupied a melting plastic potted plant
and started carpet-bombing the floor for oil-freedom-theocracy-democracy
and android servers never dream of serfing sheep

big mystery sherlock
why are the office serfs suffering in such global-warmed heat
when the office air conditioning is apparently so top notch state-of-the-art neat
big mystery sherlock
in a nutshell comrade the i.t man machine is packing some serious fucking heat
'cos the server rooms need and receive all the air conditioning
the servers' health and safety always rules
the server rooms need to be maintained below 17 degrees centigrade
Always
for if the server rooms go down
the air conditioning goes down
and if the air conditioning goes down
the servers go down
and if the servers go down you can't work for the servers..
the air con is for the servers
not to be confused with the human servants of the servers
you
you organic carbon-based human fucks
you too-ubiquitous-for-your-own-good locked-in passing-trade-serfs
you're nothing but servers' human-astro-turf graze
burning outside feeding the server rooms' limpid-pool glades
working in the shade is for wimps anyway

so he's going on holiday
she's going on holiday
if they're gonna burn they'd rather burn beneath
gently swaying beach palm trees staring out with zombied spiritual feeling
at the undulating shimmering crashing waves
dreaming that one day they'll be able to afford a farewell ticket
permanently
one way

so she's going on holiday
he's going on holiday
they're travelling light
just carrying a few clothes
their favourite buckets and spades
oh..
and their work laptops
blackberrys and p.d.a's
why
because it's their managers wish
we don't want any slackers here
if you get bored on holiday you can update that really important list
and send it to me quick
but only if you want to
no pressure

so
he's going on holiday
she's going on holiday
gritting their teeth nervously through customs they snake
pin-drop silence as their budget-dreams get weighed
sorry but you have excess baggage i'm afraid
i see you've got laptops, blackberrys and p.d.a's
you're gonna have to leave something behind i'm sorry to say
well her eyes just well up
he just bows his head and curses a prayer
his information mind cascades
the customs officer's lowered eyes care
he's already witnessed this same shit a hundred times already today
even he has to turn away
as their eyes slide-lock-slide
as they hand over
their buckets and spades..

and their office server room is chilled
and their office server room is cool
and the office server room's hanging out with penguins and dolphins
sipping chilled vodka by limpid pools

and the office server room is god

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Ubik Television

anti-dandruff shampoo for your garden gnomes
heat magazine fundamentalists suicide bomb themselves in the celebrity big brother home
essential yoga mats for your obese cheshire cats
t.v zarathustra admen gobspracht

ubik television

a la nat-u-ral fat-free mineral water decaffinated
polyunsaturated toilet paper ass-crack vitamin a rejuvinated
multi-skilled blow-up office-sheep-shag performance-related
anti-gravity plastic surgery mortgage relief guaranteed zero-inflated

Ubik

challenging ear-hair curling tongs with ectoplasm squirter
tampons for men with pre-emptive terrorist surveillance cursor
sat-nav pogo sticks with anti-nearly-falling-over-trauma airbag defencer
organic rainforest mushy peas with added genuine shamanic mentor

this ubik revolution

ubik televised
and
this dreck will be 'netised
there's no such thing as consumerism ass-backwards
only counter-clockwise
action and reaction
anti-face ageing cream/
anti-penis ageing cream
there's no such thing as the ass-backwards
only counter-clockwise
miltarise immobilise tantalise rhapsodise
victimise enfranchise evalgelise
moisturise moisturise moisturise

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Mandela

margaret thatcher didn't campaign to release you
twas for general pinochet she built a shrine
that says more about her than about you
after all she was also against the banning of landmines

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Debate The Prime Minister's Call for a National Debate

Debate: What is a National Debate

a chairman a chairwoman a chairperson a chairchair please

where
should we hold this
national debate
put up your hands if you've got an idea
press your gadget situated beneath your eyes
press your gadget with due care

press one for yes  
press two for yes but
press three for don't know
press three-and-a half for guess not
press four for no
press five for football results
press six for no definitely not it's not natural

press seven for this is just another example of political correctness gone mad
gone mad gone mad
you couldn't make it up
i'd never thought i'd see the day
when gay islamic one legged atheist liberal suicide bombing do-gooder vegan drug abuse welfare scrounging asylum seeker environmentalist pacifists thugs take our jobs our flat our kids our suv's
and if that makes me some kind of bigot then i'm sorry
you can't say anything these days...

press eight for just because i don't trust the state with my taxes doesn't mean
to say the state should not be trusted to execute the right people                      most of the time
to say otherwise is the typical liberal guilt trip i'm afraid

press nine for yes blowing up celebrities by blasting their fat back into them with reverse liposuction can be justified as tough love
and would also be a telethon ratings winner

press ten for i once witnessed my grandmother feed lime jelly to a cat
press eleven for i've never witnessed my grandmother feed lime jelly to a cat

press twelve for this is not a complaint
i desire the need to buy some more product from you
but only because you listen to me and i really love that about you
did i ever tell you
your voice is spiritual to me in a strangely spiritual sort of way

press thirteen for i may record your disdainful silence
for zen buddhist monk training purposes
a copy of our guidelines can be injected straight into your
consumer consciousness streams

press fourteen for
however i did once witness my cat feed lime jelly to your grandmother                                                                                                           
press fifteen for we shall not give in to yorkshire terriers
press star for i can't count to sixteen

press sixteen for i am waiting in a queue but my next thought will be along shortly
my brainwaves are very valuable to me
please be aware that my brain may jumble up my                                                 recorded thoughts then play them back to me
like a deja vu jigsaw jigsaw
jigsaw deja vu
wow did you hear that i just said that to me before i heard myself say that to me

press seventeen for this is a pre-recorded message
take joy in your insignificance
oprah winfrey loves you
esther rantzen has need
if this thought is not important to you
and you would like to call back later
please feel free to contact us yourself any time of day when we are not in

press star hash to return to your accident of birth maker of choice

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*
Girpal Da Silva

his name is girpal da silva
he wears a fashionable turban of purple dash silver
but he never wears orange
unless he's drinking glenmorangie

he accidentally tipped some yoghurt over his inkjet midwinter
so he high hopes by summer it will be a fairly successful
raitaback printer
raitaback printer
raitaback printer

                                     *[somasamosa apologises unreservedly for this excuse                                                         for a poem] --------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Kamikaze Blossom Factory

Kamikaze Blossom Factory
that's a fantastic title for a poem isn't it
Kamikaze Blossom Factory
and it also has a certain post-rock Godspeed! You Black Emperor
ring about
Kamikaze Blossom Factory
popped into my head from absolutely nowhere
just like that
So i wrote it down straight away before i forgot it
(for memory has the proclivity for the genius-slip-deficit)
because contrary to the poet orthodoxy
the most sublime poetry-thought-lines
are often forgottten
almost instantaneously
like an oxymoron almost inevitably blowing in the wind
raining on the cake candles walking across the hills

and
well
here we go then
we've got the title
so let's fire this poem baby up
pen in hand
let's rock

ahem
Title: Kamikaze Blossom Factory
..good, good

right
first line:

uuuhhmmm
                   uuuhhhh 

oh..                                              

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Brazilian Mustard and Mermaids

the mind works in mysterious ways
"world's junk washes up on deserted scottish isle"
an article in today's the independent newspaper claims
"..the rising tide of rubbish polluting the world's oceans.."
the journalist called terry then gives us an example
of such a detritus human-dreck sample
washed up in the archipelago of st kilda
forty miles from the western isles of scotland
  argentinian silicon sealant
  french shower gel
  a canadian oil container
  a dutch yoghurt carton
  brazilian mustard
  and norwegian mustard

wow
i thought
then
the very first thought that occured to me after the wow
was this
i wonder what brazilian mustard tastes like
and the second thought i had was this
i'm pretty sure that the journalist in question
- whose first name is terry
would be pretty annoyed to know
that one reader's first thought after reading such a mind-boggling article
on the current fate cruelly metted out to the mermaids' cities, fields and suburbs
"the rising tide of rubbish polluting the world's oceans"
is
i wonder what brazilian mustard tastes like
i know - i know  - i know
but
let me explain a couple of important factors here that led me to this first thought
one
i happen to like mustard
and
two
i have never tried brazilian mustard
and besides that
i was pretty hungry at the time when i read the article
(i'm sure media studies philosophers have a term for this
aberrant code/
aberrant reading
if i correctly recall)
so what can i say
polluting the world's oceans is a big deal
sure
(unless your exxon mobil)
but
well
what does brazilian mustard taste like
and how does it compare with norwegian mustard
so
if any scottish
brazilian or norwegian fish or mermaids know
please do kindly write in

many thanks

(and mermaids and your fishy comrades
if you wish to revenge this human selfishness
by repaying such manunkind ocean polluters in kind
by perhaps fly-tipping used plankton or oil-slicked seaweed on human's resplendent gnomed glasshouse gardens
i'll be glad to help

but please don't tell anyone)

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[somasamosa: official supporters of the B.B.C Give Guy Goma a Job campaign]

Give Guy Goma a Job

Guy Goma
he's no loafer
and he's certainly not mediocre
and under pressurised conditions
- he's obviously no choker
he doesn't panic or flap
at life's game of poker
and he never looks like he's swimming in tapioca
so come on
give Guy Goma a job
give Guy Goma a job

Guy Goma
he knows about apples
he's knows about i.t
he's grace under pressure
ask the b.b.c
live on air
he demonstrated he's the cool-headed
flexible
multi-skilled employers' dream
so download some Guy Goma b.b.c
he's completely virtuosi
and give Guy Goma a job
give Guy Goma a job

Guy Goma
he's soft-spoken
are you gonna make him heart-broken?
for in Rome he's shown what Gomans do
he is the can-do crisp shirt man
of navy-blue
he's got the i.q
so give him his due
he even knows how to use the autocue!
i bet he could present loads of brill interviews
from Shepherd's Bush to Kathmandu
you're not scared he's better than you?
o.k then
give Guy Goma a job
give Guy Goma a job

For when in Rome do what Gomans do
and give Guy Goma job
give Guy Goma a job
boom boom
                                                                             (for information please visit                                                                                              www.guygoma.com)
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Non-Specific Embarrassment Syndrome

doctor
my urine has the scent of urine
    why does that surprise you?
well
because it never used to
    you're obviously not eating enough marmalade
    so i prescribe eating more marmalade for you
    and before you have a bath make sure you pluck
    that's pluck
    your eyebrows
    with some good quality tweezers
    they're easy enough to find
    there are four tweezer shops just down the road
    by the organic marmalade cow farm
    that should resolve it
oh thank you doctor..
 
   ..ssoo..anything else?
Urnh..well
there is something else doctor
    come on then
    out with it
    come on
well it's a bit embarrassing
    only a bit?
well..
very..
    good
    at last this poem seems to be getting somewhere
    our readers haven't got all day you know
what readers?
    well - quite - exactly

well as i said it's a bit - sorry - very embarrassing
..doctor
is there such a condition as
Non-Specific Embarrassment Syndrome?
for i seem to have acquired a particularly weird case of this malady unknown
this very curious undiscovered syndrome
well apart from being discovered by me of course
    ..yers..patients discovering their own illnesses isn't academically endorsed
    of course
    very ordinary members of the public must not involve themselves
    in serious medical discourse
    but tell me more about the so-called non-specific nature of your
    embarrassment abnormality
    i almost feel like i could care about this wacky mentality
almost doctor?
    now don't push it jack
    i'm a doctor not a quack
well doctor
it's the strangest thing
for i do not need to fall
or trip over my words
or make the social faux pas
in front of a beautiful girl
no squeamish scene needs to befall
for me to
drown in this man-embarrassment waterfall..
   
    a man-embarrassment waterfall?
    hmm
    go on..

..well
get this
i disolve to utter embarrassment when i'm on my own
on-my-own
on-my-own
it
rises
from
nowhere
like an elusive mentalist ghost
it nukes my kamikaze face radioactive toast
it completely overcomes me
for absolutely no rational reason discernable
i go into an inner squirming meltdown
like a psychic chernobyl
that to me is Non-Specific Embarrassment Syndrome doctor
why have i got a syndrome that doesn't even exist?
what do i do?
   
    i'd just stay permanently pissed
    you see
    your non-specific embarrassment syndrome
    de facto
    as it does not
    officially exist
    you haven't got it
    i know that must make you feel rather harassed
    and for that i have to say
    well
    i'm - rather  - embarrassed
I Know Exactly How You Feel Doctor
perhaps if you discovered
Non-Specific Embarrassment Syndrome for me then?
     ..sorry can't do that
     i'm just a g.p
     for that you'll obviously need to arrange an appointment with
     a non-specific embarrassment syndrome surgery
o.k that's fine doctor
how long do you think it will take to get me on their
urgent-priority list
    oohh i fear it will be quite a long time
    because of course non-specific embarrassment syndrome surgeries do not exist
    no one's discovered it
except for me doctor
    as i say it's all very embarrassing
don't worry doctor i'm always the pragmatist
i'll just take your advice
and stay permanently pissed
    thank you
    that's very kind
goodbye then doctor
    goodbye and remember what i said
    take more marmalade

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We Are Sanguine

In this shadowfat fried obese west world
we are sanguine
as glinting boiling asexualised fish heads
heatstroke beneath english channel's gloopyfied bingo-moonlight 
and we are fairly sanguine
as we observe our spiritually inclined h.r managers
deftly place healing crystals betwixt dehydrating plastic plants
we deploy our sanguinity
as we double-take environmentally-aware cyclists
kindly kamikaze-giftwrap their biodegrading radioactive tomato sauce souls
into the cannibalistic grills of s.u.v's
the death race 2000 drivers inside so moved by the sacrifice
they giggle themselves to sleep
clutching their police caution like a cuddly lucky mascot voodoo hex

we are sanguine
as we bear glorious witness to god squad fundamentalists
peacefully threaten extreme violence against the snotty nosed secular freewill botherers
we are sanguine in our realisation that
literalists' lack of irony shall never be defeated
for creationists are the missing link
we are sanguine
like a bonsai tree is
when intravenously force-fed mineral water
in the head-office reception of b.p
we're that sanguine
that this will probably be as good as it gets 
that we have less chance of spotting an n.h.s dentist
than a yeti has a vet

in this brownsite slightly-fewer-dead-foxes-than-before/ mild-form-of-bird-flu-dead pheasant land
man cannot live by free pornographic spam alone
a cat couldn't swing a garden gnome in a starter home
like in a phone box sans phone
we are sanguine

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Ironic

distrust the corporate artist who invokes his spewing soul
who protests against The Globalisation
as it carpet-rolls him gold
who does not perceive The Disconnect
between the practice and the preach
who condemns "The Greedy Politicians"
who earn less in their life than he in a week

it's The Disconnect
there lies the rub
the smoking bystanding alibi
the grub in the hub
it's the disconnect
which motors this post baby-boom kidult mein
the corporate artist angst so harmonic
isn't that ironic?

the dialectic disconnect
the disconnectic materialism thing
irony
diamond rings

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Close To Life

a matrix
that is a matrix of stars reflect in out of her porous eyes
in out out out
in out out out
an intravenous tearduct wish
born from a slightest vision
a euthanasia lung of her antithetical life
the fireworks the stars the opening nights 
she really
really wants to be there
isn't fame everyone's birth-right
she really wants to be there
so really there
this unrequited recognition thing burns behind her eyes
she's flit near the flame vicariously twice
in a metaphysical heartbeat proximity witnessed the array they gracefully glanced away
for one more time

she's thrown a fax through a speeding limo
she places slow-release chocolates beneath her lavender-scented pillows
she dances still
beyond alone
to the cruel faux-egalitarian oxymoron
The Talent Show
she voluntarily skins herself alive
the cathode rays hum along to her shy en-suite crying slow-dive
tragically she's still too close
to that
so
close to life

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gravity Hamsters' Sunrise

old lady wispy white hair cloud forms
mural-glider
indigo canvas ocean shapes
turin shrouds air-milkfloat sigh 
angel cut-and-paste
the sun liquid-iced-peach a trillion big-bang prawn
another london glow-grey spangled spring dawn

puddle puree splash-stroll-march
quaffing cappuccino hearts
gravity hamsters slalem-pod mint custard parks
bloody 'ell is that the time

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love in the Time of Bird Flu

i hide resplendent in my shame A Love like an empathetic grim reaper
an angry confused vegetarian washing a meat cleaver
and as a weeping iceberg i hide in this candle-lit igloo
for i cannot de-globalise the stonewalling cruel crash-landing sun
as the indie-poet scribes this within me without you
"love in the time of bird flu"

"love in the time of bird flu"
it's my magical miserablist novel
- a sensual man with a cunning celibate masterplan
an otherworldly anti mick hucknall

meer-cats will play the english desert banjo
beside the salt-plain thames
as the jejune new neo right wing something shall blame global-warming
on indian nanotechnologists that yogic-fly in ozone-blasting planes

tropical chickens have got the flu
should i pour anti-freeze on their coup
would a phoenix burn to save a dove
this bird is perhaps out of time for love

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Liberal Elite

so where is this infamous liberal elite?
i can't see them, they must be asleep
and how come it's only right-wing conspiracy nuts who can feel their heat?
could it be they're just pretending angry
pretending to importance angry? 
these purple-veined clown fundamentalists
these freedom-loving let's-kill-'em-all mentalists
green crayon emperors
it's a heads-up time for taking their trousers-down
'cos i've never heard the liberal word on the street

"hey,guess what man, i heard The Liberal Elite are gonna
come take down this whole town at ten past three.."

"oh yeah? is that "elite" like the "elite" in "republican guard elite"

"oh no man, they'll really be armed, so are you in?
we're gonna meet by the vegan indian takeaway at 2am
bring some angry vibes filled with Love with you.."

"whoah! ok, i'll look in my psychic basement..see what i've got.."

sadly that scene has never happened
every time we hear the phrase political correctness we cower like wolves
everytime someone expresses a view slightly left of attila the hun
they're immediately branded as being politically correct..
it's Tyranny Acquiesced
and it's just getting really boring

oh yeah
The Liberal Elite
in my dreams pal!
apparently we're being held to ransom by this mysterious liberal elite
some fucking hope!

The Liberal Elite
rub your shy eyes, wake up sleeping beauties
get ready for some street-fighting combat duties
six billion minds, one at a time
maybe we'll witness-in the Flash of Civilisation
a Universal Human Rights Declaration reaffirmation

so the literalists carry on killing in their Dreamland
taking down the dreamers and alchemists station by station
we better wake up our coffee and smell their piss
it really aint supposed to be like this
sorry if this sounds a bit sixties
(whenever that was)
sorry if that sounds a tad yesterday
hey, hey
because it does i suppose
what a shame
maybe it's time we got back to the future
Again

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Druid City Limits

Blued-up beluga brolley clouds sail in an english city spring
flickering electric lampost lights of luminescent tangerine
surround and sheen the grey through green ariel concrete dentistry
it's not really yet the twenty-first century
 
druid city limits
metal machine music's swan lake
who was she so beautiful in the supermarket today?
forensic gazelle eyes killed me to life
i know i'll never see her again and even if i did
i know i'd never see her again

there's a helicopter flying over stratford olympic village
so strange as it's not yet built
its flying over the flattened mud plains
that will provide the barrat-type homes
for the world's greatest synchronised swimmers
in the year of a god two thousand and twelve
it's flying low swooping circling and surveilling
someone's obviously nicked some bricks
have they no respect for the synchronised swimmer world community?
stratford's first keyworkers of the twenty-first century 

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Twenty-First Century Monsoon Rain

dentists in flames of orchid
clouds raining - tuliping down - air drains
sepia rose sheen petal-ache curtains
sheet after sheet
vertical flowing love
mobile tears kiss around our faces
head-games run for deep cover

i dreamer
touching your hair kissed by a dampened on sky
roses washed twirlswim down gutters
i shall dream of washing the very air
now bliss-on clouds 
and fly

may i kiss your shattered hair just once before i die?
how utterly romantic how utterly pathetic i know
it's just that i feel i have never really kissed before 

strangers with damp hair
wandering cities unaware
they're water lanterns of fire
elemental darkened lights outshining sunstorms

lanterns
smiling shy
walking lamppost people

tulips
distress dives
brolly flowing candles

you must hear
sonic violin fountain earthquakes
you must hear
it's always strangers who hear cities weeping
hearing donations that never arrive
for natives who require broken-heart transplants

monsoon eyes soundtrack my mind
washing our lines
lanterns with hair
tulips fire flares
blinking and searching
flickering and..
beneath Rainshine

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Best Value

on this Planet of Philistine
the gnostic literalists are king
't was ever thus?
well maybe

and as the sand-dune architects
blow up the pyramids
and celebrate their discovery of hidden salt-mines beneath
and celebrate the best-value cost efficiency savings that will be made
these salt-mines will pay for themselves
no wonder the pharoahs went out of business
alchemists never consider the bottom-line

so alchemists lose again to the gnostic literalist philistines
they walk the line

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Get Gandhi!

Get Gandhi!
Isn't that the way in this new century?
We all live an an ambient Gitmo
Not a yellow submarine
So in light of the new realities on the ground
We must follow the lost sheep fairy
On to the shepherds' stony ground.

Get Gandhi!
You can't stop a suicide bomber by hugging a tree
Those who are last shall be second to last
Vegetarian cows - not oil - cause freedom depleting ozone gas
Learn by heart this symbiotic bullshit medley corpsed by the Unparallel War Hegemony
Language is power, yes
The absolutists' language of fear disempowers absolutely.
Next time you watch a T.V Palestinian crying, hugging her tank-kissed olive trees
Remember she's a baby-step away naive liberal greens
From Turning Really Mean
That's the pre-emptive schadenfreude groin-marine wet dream
Gagging for unintended consequences
The literalists' I Told You So strawberries and cream.

Freedom Loving People everywhere
Your time is now
So Get Gandhi!

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Posher Apartheid

White south Africans working in the UK
are classed as working tourists paying for their stay,
Black Africans working in the UK
are deemed economic bogus-asylum-scroungers taking jobs away
presumably from the white South Africans who now reside
in the UK since the end of apartheid.

So if you're from a poor benighted bombed out place
you might be classed a non-genuine economic refugee "asylum-seeker" case,
But if you hail from a white speaking post-apartheid democracy
you're a genuine working tourist expat-community guest
contributing positively to our society,
easy
You don't get the racism if you're already free.

I wonder..if apartheid still existed
and Steve Biko escaped his torturers and fled to the UK
do you think he'd have a better chance of being welcomed in
if he claims he's a freedom fighter escaping apartheid's cruel fist
or should he just try to politely
pass himself off as a dark white multi-skilled English speaking working tourist?

Where's Peter Gabriel when you need him?

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Modish Solitude

I glimpsed this stranger vacuuming astroturf on a sunny summers day
Manipulating this 1950's technology in such a wacky Jetsons way
Beneath a stilled sun shone my mind now blancmanched -
My thoughts were just totally blown away!
As I watched this strange man vacuuming astroturf on a sunny summers day.

Things like this make me stop and think
Not sure about what exactly..

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Sellafield Tandoori - AD (Absolute Disaster) 2009 5

An extremely large angry fly's just tipped dayglo cod soup over another waiter
'cos its 3 Mile Island bhajee pie tasted like a 1970's radiator,
Sellafield Tandoori - no more requests for tikka masala here;
eating radiated looking chickens now is beyond irony - that's clear.

You see 2009 was the suicide bombers' Age of Aquarius
Where supermodel good looks became somewhat extraneous:
'Cos when those jet planes smashed into those nuke reactors it required a tad more than a dab of Max Factor
to stop your face shape shifting like tyres of our Blair12 Freedom Driller Tractors.

"Yes madams.." (the two headed fundamentalist atheist nuns),
"I shall be along with the plutonium fortified papadums..
"And the Ready Brek neon raita for the pagan Glasto night rider..
"Last orders now, before my brains explode..."

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Golf Star

Gloomy afternoon,
Shimmering like a forgotten vacuum cleaner
In a pond of mildew.

Afternoons are as pointless as wasps,
And nearly as pointless as a waste of time,
A baking close cold emptiness
Like the aura of golf playing rock stars;
As charismatic as a burst appendix.

Afternoons:
Boredom's more tired of afternoons
Than it is of life
Like a eunuch who wins at bingo
And found he's prized a wife.

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mooooo....

moooooo..

Lapsed Hindu Fear of a Mad Cow Planet (Not Mooing but Drowning)

Lapsed Hindu lifeguard driving on our beaches
Dives out his milk float like an erotic pro-bovine warrior
He runs towards a mad cow suicidally sliding towards the shoreline
Not mooing but drowning...

Lapsed Hindu milkman and the fatalistic mad cow:
Sounds like a 21st century pub chain
With a brand identity neon filmsign swinging outside
Illuminating it's grotesque Sanskrit/Munch beach pastoral
Of a distant milk float sand duned
Significant amounts of semi-skimmed milk spilling
A bleeding cream pink foaming wave psyche smash osmosis
The dying mad cow now held in the quality time arms
Of the lapsed Hindu lifeguard milkman
Not saving but drowning
In a Thatcherite Baby Krishna beach killing nemesis dream.

Fear of a mad cows planet
Sanskrit Munch howl.

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When Will We Have Pavements With Airbags?

When will we have pavements with airbags?
Surely a question of not why but when
Think of all that money we spend on developing weapons
We could use that money to develop pavement airbag technology instead!

Now I know you may well be umming and ahhing
For you might be concerned that pavement airbags will encourage reckless walking
Or that parachutists falling will cry confused
As they spiral onto exploding pillowcases as airbags issue.
And what about cats, dogs and pissed folk
Surely a red rag to encourage airbag abuse
Not to mention illicit bouncy castle type leisure use
Pavement rage will no longer be viewed as an extreme sport to play
And "Walking Without Consequences Outrage!" headlines the Daily Mail will rage.

But when will we have pavements with airbags?
Let pavements with airbags take the strain
Think of all those dead nearly dead granny types who everyday splatter their blue dayglo heads
Who would now be nearly alive if pavement airbags caught them instead!
And remember the beautiful young things of today
Will undoubtedly be the even more beautiful young things of tomorrahh
As we'll all have plastic surgery goldfish faces
We'll be the picture of derelict senile bewildered perfection in every way
Tottering on the catwalk with 21st century dead fox catheter bag accessories
With which we can ever so elegantly piss ourselves while watching our obesity and 3d tv
And falling off the catwalk wont be such a drag
'Cos we'll all be geriatric cyborg-bollocked super models
Crash landing on couture airbags.

Oxymoronically we'll almost inevitably
Sit our cloned ee..uu..genically bargain basement aryanee brat superkids
On one of our post digital society biosonic kneeballs
And bore them shitless as we recall:
 In our day we fought 8 gulf wars
 So future generations would have the God given right
 To fall on to airbag pavements and not die embarrassed and/or looking like shite
 Remember child in pre-pavement airbag society many people needlessly died 
 Walking into walls and tripping in shopping malls
 ..the days when pavements killed us like flies
 But we didn't complain we bombed Saddam Hussein
 So that's why we now live in a pavement airbag democraticee domain.

So..
Bring on pavements with airbags
Let pavements with airbags take the strain
Let geriatrics no longer die needlessly splattering their blue flames for brains
While running to catch the last late night bingo subway train.

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Dick Cheney - He's Like a Guy

Dick Cheney
What a guy
Dick Cheney
Who what where not why
Halliburton's comet - Dick Cheney
Enron's Avon lady - Dick Cheney.
Sporting the downward spiral smirk
A shrug, a shirk
Watch the revolving back door man do the front show side entrance work
For he's Dubya's jewel in the frown
The zenless sound
The monocled third eye's ear to the ground 
Dick Cheney.

Dick Cheney
He's like a real guy
Don't say maybe.

New Enron - New Labour.

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Wanna Drug Like Love

If love was a substance you could score
Would there be a Love Czar
Like there is a Drug Czar?

Wanna score a couple of ounces of love?
Go on - try it just this once
Don't get me wrong it might kill you
There have been many love casualties that have died
But personally? Yes I don't mind if I become addicted
Although I wouldn't want to be sectioned off by the state
In one of their Love Detox Units.
So do you wanna score a couple of ounces of love?
Remember, there have been many more people without love that have died
Maybe we've all felt that way at times
I know I have.

I wanna breathe love, smoke love, snort love
I'll even be happy to passively inhale love
I have a few lonely times..
And I admit I'll also deal love
But should I get my hands on a few kilos of L
(that's the street slang!)
I'll give it away to everybody
Campaign to legalise L and make it tax free
Make the whole planet a zero-rated Love zone
From the moment we're born
Even after we die
Yes for the trees and the stars and all that stuff
And for you
(and hopefully for I!)
For aliens, dolphins and especially the waring fundamentalist politicians
I'll chop a few lines for them myself if they promise to at least try.
Let's invoke Love Laws - with mandatory summmery love-ecutions
That's a faith to believe in!
Real love is empathy, a feeling of safety
Freedom from envy and hate, ignorance and fear
Bigotries and fascisms will be banished away
Never to darken our door, never again!
All of that dreck will be thrown into the fire
Then Love will be the drug that will light a global love empire
Maybe then we can crush all this nationalistic banality
When we embrace each other with the love that is Truth
The one true spiritual reality
That we only belong to one race - one and true:
The Human Nationality.

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Everyone Will Be Dysfunctional For 15 Minutes (part 1) 

Lest we forget Geri Halliwell
For she is the acceptable face of Fergie 
Not like Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson is the real face of plastic surgery.

And everyone will be dysfunctional for 15 minutes.

Television media brat bullies make reality tv
And reality tv is the opium of the bullied
And everyone will be dysfunctional for 15 minutes
But remember..
Everyone is innocent.

Celebrities suffer our Munchausen's Celebrity Syndrome by Proxy
Z list Joan of Arc fantasy
Victim careerism
Compassion survivalism
Princess Dianaism
Kiss'ntell autotabloidography default republican ruritanianism
But everyone is innocent.

Is the Statue of Liberty for New England 
Princess Diana holding aloft a lighter?
She did a lot for sad minds
Thatcher did a lot for land mines
Exploding land mine candles in the wind.
General Pinochet was Thatcher's Nelson Mandela
Tebbit her Che Guevara
Archer her Kurt Cobain
There's no such thing as society
And everyone is innocent.

Tony Blair is a care bear conservative
Cliff Richard is alive
Elvis is dead
Mediocrity burns twice as long because it burns a hundredth as bright
It's a shame that the only thing we successfully recycle is the worst radioactive cultural shite
Cliff Richard fans are the blue rinse taliban daleks of Britain
But everyone is innocent.

On 24 hour cable news the real news goes very ding dong
Apathy consensus commissioned ommisioned
Freedom loving enchantment sing songs
News you can use
Consume news consume music consume art consume consume
It's Costume truth
One celebrity chef is two too many
Ambulance chase yourself
Sue your mother for giving you bad teeth
Sue nature for giving you hay fever
Save the environment - kill a penguin
And
Everyone is innocent.

Ugly people shall be made illegal
Plastic surgery grafts will be made from other people
Women's magazines will assault women less like porn
Irresponsible dictators who use the bombs we sold them must always pre-empively post-sale get bombed.
If Saddam Hussein was the west's whipping boy evil dictator
Was President Bush an ass backwards Buffy the Vampire Slayer? 

Tampons for men
A question of not why but when
Discuss it with some friends.
Is the desire for complete detachment from passion nothing more than the ultimate spiritual vanity?
We all believe in something
Like doubting those questions about our sanity
It's only the maddest trees that talk to the strangest people
And everyone will be dysfunctional for 15 minutes
Oprah as Christ.

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