About Me

My photo
Biography is either masked ball or epitaph. As you find me, so we are.

Thursday, 20 February 2014

State: Instrumental

I cannot stand to be a man
I’ll be a gun
If you’re bigger
Pull my trigger
For fun

I cannot bear to feel her tears
Turn me to stone
To smash and maim
The order’s aim
I’m thrown

I cannot take the mess of life
Your livery
Removes my need
To see they bleed
Like me

It’s me I shoot
I break my head
And wear your suit
I’m good as dead

Wednesday, 19 February 2014


cuntries cum and
cuntries go
sum cuntries suck
sum cuntries blow
sum cuntries fight
sum cuntries share
sum think they’re right
and sum don’t care
sum cuntries play a dayndruss game
sum change their tune
sum change their name
sum cuntries cheat
sum cuntries lie
sum send you off
sumwhere to die
and cuntries cum
and cuntries go
but how they think
we just don’t know

Thursday, 13 February 2014


Reynard the Curious explores,
He sniffs his path through forest floors,
As bees inside their dactyl glove
Proboscis-probe for honey love.

His hungry nose leads to a bower,
Hung with tubed, scented, purple flower.
A black and feathered thing he spies;
A Crow! And Lo! She holds a prize…

With sweetened tongue the Fox doth speak,
To feasting Crow, with laden beak.
Thus flattered, she lets out a caw -
Her bounty falls to forest floor.

The Crow thinks; I’m a foolish bird,
I’ve been undone by fawning word -
But all’s not lost. Now let me think.
This clever Fox must need a drink.

“Before you dine, Fox, tell me first,
How you intend to quench your thirst?
The river’s dry. The puddles? Bare.
But see that pitcher over there…”

“It’s true, I’m parched. There is no doubt.
But, how to get that water out?”
“Fox, you speak well, but I am smart.
I have a way. Such is my art.”

Says Crow, “I’ll show. And we’ll imbibe.
Just share your meal. This is my bribe.”
“Why Crow, it really does appear,
You scheme like me. Let’s team, my dear.”

And so the Crow doth pebbles drop,
‘Til water reaches pitcher top.
Hence, Corvid-Vulpes bond is made
Forever, in that forest glade.

So, comes the moral of our tale;
If by some flatterer you fail,
Then turn the tables on their tongue
By being more than words have won.