THOUGHT THIS WAS INCOHERENT ENOUGH TO FLOG

She fucked me over, and that's fine with me. I would never have returned to you anyway, so perhaps your better off with someone with a pecan nut for a brain, and manufactured 80's music for a brain. Wonder if he's ever read a book. Sorry everyone else for my vitriolic diatribe against a nameless nobody

The following: apprently, one of these FB quizzes thinks I'm only into fierce sex. Hmm, first I've heard of it:

HAHAHAHAHAH, ABOUT AS FIERCE AS A LAMB ON A DIAMORPHINE DRIP....UNLESS, I'M IN THE MOOD. ALTHOUGH IN MY DEFENCE, THE FIVE PRESCRIPTION DRUGS, ALL DESIGNED TO KNOCK OUT HUMANITIES CREATIVE AND LIVELY SELVES, AFTER ALL THOSE PRESCRIBED DRUGS... I CAN OPERATE - ALTHOUGH ALL THOSE DRUGS and ALCOHOL, Jesus, I aint Superman. Allah, fulfil a mission upon this Earth to further the cause of Islamic Jihad, and I'll get a place in Paradise? SO AFTER 300MGS OF MORPHINE SULPAHTE, 30MGS DIZEPAM, 70MGS NITRAZEPAM, 60MGS CITALOPRAM, 40MGS ATENALOL, AND LASHINGS OF STELLA, SPIRITS AND WINE, I'M MEANT TO BE FIERCE? hmmmmm ;-)
What within my ephereal thought
And only through a t-trashing of prose
Nobody sees the Howlin' Wolf
His Blues lurching through the concert rows
Nobody sees Howlin Wolf
Mine enemies unaware
Where and when I come
And which of Dante's levels you go

GRINDERMAN

Off to see Grinderman aka Nick Cave, Warren Ellis, Jim Sclavunos and Fendocastor,M.Cassey.

I believe I am going to use this cyberspace as a blog for a little while for a change, as it is after all called a blog, so if I'm bloggy pray don't blame me ;-/. The reason I'm writing on said blog is thwre appears to be an elephant, a roaring lion, a rat and a rattlesnake, and a rabid viscious dog in my brain, so I may as well give them some vent to release the pressure a little, before my head comes clean off....like 'puff" y sólo un mechón de cada vez más acre (yetwith una pista de una vez algo dulce un tiempo, como un vino tinto o blanco "corcho", como los bebedores de vino lo llaman) de humo! (No soy lingüista, no es más que Google Translate que, a una persona que no habla español, puede que me hizo ver una polla inteligente, pero a un hablante de español (como mi hermosa sobrina Isabel Españoles), se preguntaron lo que una traducción horrible sangrienta!)

This I have deemed to be the safest way to let off the aforementioned pressure cooker I have got for a head at the moment. I don't like to think or write or say "women, eh?" so I won't More pertinent or apt would be a phrase that hasn't really passed the airwaves near my listening devices (me ears), which is "woman, eh?"

Glad to see Labour have Lurched to the Left (showing ignorance here as I only noticed on a right-leaning sunday paper, The Snail on Dumbday). I wonder about the Miliband brothers' background? Is Ed the real deal, a union leaders pal, or is he Gordon Brown with a level of charismatic charm and physical attraction?

I reckon I'll wikipedia him, and the other twin brother to boot...

....and, I just realized, well it came to me in a Personal Revelation, exactly like Martin Luther, when he was on his way to uni (hmm, I wonder if Luther called it "uni") and lightening nearly struck him, and, he was so terrified he immediately thought "right, upon God's Path I will travel and wear sackcloth and attack infidelity wherever I come across it!"

FIRST DRAFT

Slippers slipping in the mud
Soles an age tossed into the wood
Running down steps two by two.

Need to know there's been no fall
No letting of blood
No concerned walker
No Carrion Call
Yes, need to know there's been no fall
No concerned group of concerned (and the hateful cinema-goers),
No, no Carrion Call today

The helicopter soared the skies
Just beneath the blue and cotton-bud clouds

I'm too ready
I'm real steady
Carrying my billhook
You can pull them in
To see their eyes
Full of terror
Yes, full of terror
They made such an error

Don't pick a fight with someone
Whose life is from an oak of falling Autumn leaves.
I am a leaf
Golden brown
Been to town
All adorned in my village gown.
No, don't pick a fight with someone
Whose life is an autumnal leaf
From a dying oak tree

No, don't pick a fight with a laughing clown,
For he will kick and he will cheat and he will laugh
Yet beneath his painted shiny smile he'll frown
Oh yes he'll frown.

I've got new boots for the ice and snow
For in the summer house I dwell
Gotta/Wanna/Have to live there
My fealty I give them
For without I cannot live
Unconditional love they always gave me
Unconditional I will return it

They endured knives caked in blood
And sessions of hospital stays
My Grandma my Nana her mind brimming
With thoughts of the
Horrors in the last of her days

'They' endured illness and the officials offered no label
(All the creative types 'have' bi-polar; fashionable mental illness, the first of its kind?)
For I've self-medicated my brain and my mind
The drugs on the table mixed up hard to find


An 'SOS' and question marks and crucifixes marked
With needle and ink in bloody morning left hand
What does SOS mean?
What does SOS mean?
We all die, just when
We find clarity, no cryptic puzzle,
Some meaning seen in simplicity.

In late summer's purple heather
In golden grassed fields and
And June's green glens

AJ Buttle 25 September 2010

I've Lost Interest... DRAFTED

I lost interest in Oriental spices
I lost interest in who have got lice
I lost interest in using my wok
Then I lost interest in checking my clock

I lost interest in the testaments on Jesus Christ
And I lost interest in my penis size
I lost interest in the needle in my arm
And I lost interest in the scar on my palm

Just fade away
I wanna fade away
Just fade away
I wanna fade fade away

I lost interest in this song
I lost interest in the throng
I lost interest in my spiritual health
I lost interest in myself

I lost interest in my family
I lost interest in my genealogy
I lost interest in my great great niece
And she lost interest in me

I lost interest in Nikolai Gogol
I lost interest in Brigitte Bardot
I lost interest in the health of my bed
Now three months stained plus patches dried red

I lost interest in my literary aspiration
I lost interest in the potential of exaltation
I threw myself into a hole of existential grief
And all that did was make me grind my teeth

Fade away
Just fade away
I wanna fade away,
Just fade away...

I lost interest in the reality
That I'd found that so terrified me
I lost interest in my battle to be free
Another realm was closing in, and a fisher of souls netted me...

...I opened my eyes with no surprise, a glimmer of a hospital bed
And I had no interest, being lost in my puzzled little head
I saw many trees standing by me but could not hear the voice of the trees
Then I saw on notes by my bed, prognosis 'prefrontal lobotomy'

And now I've no interest, somewhere on page 24
And I see though do not speak to the Devil at my door
Everywhere is white, and clinically so,
The angels are screaming, and I've got to go.

(eighteen months later)

Now I have interests
That keep me ticking over
I like watching my own plant grow.
For they've let me take charge
Of the best plant in the ward -
The devil, the plant, then me.

AJ Buttle 2010

Woman of the South DRAFT

I am
Loving My Southern Belle
All draped in Honeysuckle Rose Red
And the prancing Fairies and Elves
Dancing in their gaiety to the newly-born babes and the ever growing dead.
Her smiling Saragossa Sea eyes and her full red lips
Brimming with harvested love and passion wonderfully ready to seizure
Thankful to circles of stone and pagan rites conducted with wonder
Ceremonial circles 'n' Jesus all peaceful and naked spiritual fervour.

And the rain pitterpatters upon the windows
And the grey n electric flashes come a-storming in
And we travel the wanderlust lightening storm.
I reach up to your dream-filled mind
And you reach into mine
And there in our prisons we bravely inhale
Then more peacefully intertwine

AJ Buttle September 2010

Reverie - My Southern Belle

She lay in her summer, dressed in smooth sensuous soft thin cotton
The little girl she'd wanted to be, all ragdoll and laughing
Patterned with the flowers Mother Nature brought for us to adore
She lay in her soft cotton summer dress
So open and happy and content, they were her dream days

She shimmered with the long vivid green grasses
And enough butterflies rested nearby drowsy in their patch of sun
And benevolent Bumble Bees busy as a bee in their social antics passed overhead
And crickets unseen and hopeful made clicking overtures to their hopping mad mate

Her eyes are Seas of Tropics and windows so true in depth is the colour blue
The flow of thick brown hair long warming the small of her back
With half-closed eyes I reach for the statue of an angel
All are flowing like Nature's trust in her wisdom
Her smile flattered me - I loved her rose-red lips
Here on this field is our destiny

I had no need to worry
She welcomed me with arms outstretched so slender
She wanted me
I happily lay with my Southern Belle in Nature's Cradle
And in that afternoon we knew we had found what we had
Lost so long ago

AJ Buttle September 2010

The Victim Unaware

Cutting the head of the red rose
The sap ran down its green branches
And her blood spreading upon her sun-setting body
Open and defenceless
Curling and mingling in the hot bath I'd run
To travel into the red smoke and mists and her spirit loosening -
Sinking, I knew she was leaving in peace
Now at long last her spirit was free

THE PAST:
I robbed her of her spirituality
I probed her prognosis a lobotomy
To make her normal like me
(An oxymoron no greater I ever did see)
I raped her and freed her
And freed her and raped her
Until onlookers knew whether I was a
Saint or Sinner or
A Seer or a Spinner
Of lies upon lies
Spread with warped foresight
Onto the darkening light
And the trembling fingers
and losing of sight

As she breathes her final breath
No tears I meet
I've even denied her her tears
For in tears I saw danger so
Like as if a fire I killed with foam
And spread her face in monochrome
Her life force was vanishing quick time
After she met me
In those darkened dens of iniquity
Where the dying men go
And the odd woman stutters then flows

She would have been gone long ago
But for my meddling of matters I not know
It would have been the natural way
Mother Nature would take her home
And find a place for her
She could rest and roam

I prevented the natural course
For twenty years and some
I realise my errors
In all the terrors
I made her drink and swallow

AJ Buttle September 2010