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Monthly Archives: October 2009

i don't want no sparks varks

i don't want no sparks varks

Sitting in the shade and recess, forty thousand hills to climb, five thousand people to burn and a couple of months ahead whose twisted ways are sure to twist. The memory is someone who does not want to be found.i find myself staring directly into the air watching the wretched particles for some clue of what has transpired over the past couple of years but ah memory, the little bitch won’t snitch. I’m escaping every few days running from the comforts and dirt of the urban to the bees and melancholy of the forests and as wild flowers refuse to be vased the frustrated heart denies advice. I’ve sat wit hthe elephant man in wise discussions, i’ve made resolutions, plans for london, cleanliness and the crushing of pills but the vice is effervescent and the sky is blue whenever i want it. Glory on the horizon lass, rip van winkle and the church couldn’t stop me but the but the but the boot that needs to kick is scuffed and the walls are still fill of blood and i fall asleep at the most inopportune times. Really. A night walking the streets of the suburbs, gay white men in volvos trying to pick me up, ‘are you ok?, yeah i’m fine fucker, i’m just waiting for my mom. Tried to break into’s b’s place and then realised i was in the wrong road, don’t do drugs alone they say, beer at zacks listening to a duo playing dire straits, fitting really for their singing and my mood, the grafitti on the wall at the top of the wall is running off and i gave all my smokes to the homeless guy that sleeps at the flower shop. The rain hit my head and my heart lay there for dead but no one was willing to give a loan. I painted three pictures early in the morning and watched jan sleep, so curled and comforted with the tv blaring loudly as usual and as usual i felt sad. Back from the dead in a couple of hours and i’ve burnt 5 holes in my bed with the dozing head to wake up with a start and a cat in my lap and my film book on fire. I take chances and promises living here i tell you. The city stank in jhb, my fingernails got torn and th elorry was late and i forgot that guy who i kissed last time i was here though i sat right next to him at a bar, scribbling for nothing and drinking tequila. And the photos and lights and the questions made me squirm and i lied but i tried but it was all rather wrong and right and i just couldn’t wait for my dosh and head to the corner to collect my piece of paradise. So many slang names and so little time to mold them all into being mine, without the meds, the future looks dead and that sunday at the beach is just another false memory in my head. And the parade is travelling past willing me to join their merry dance but boy am i just looking forward to a toke and a taking of someone else’s making

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i want to be very very ugly if not today then always

i want to be very very ugly if not today then always

I am a pitifully wild eyed…hopelessly hapless, which is why i crawl in desperation back inside this illusion. Put myself through the degradation, the sick humour, the back turned, ogre that fights away at the keyboard, that growls louder, that kills deeper. I am desperate for love, for hugs, for congratulations, for some recognition that i exist, but your eyes never meet mine, your voice travels sideways and your drool is reserved for my soul. Some peoples blood boils when they get angry or violently sad, mine freezes. The scenery just melts away and the world is harsh, its sharp and unfair and the people who live in this lying house are even worse. And i’ve wondered for years why i’ve indulged so much why i’ve taken narrow paths and laid back in some divine umbra that not only rips all those tears all that ire into pretty tears or brave words and worlds but it took today, this grey afternoon, and how symbolic it was. How revealing, from burning sun to clouds and crystal winds so the revelations followed as fast as the fickle sky changed her moods. And so i cried out and shred the bible and kicked the barbed wire and ran barefoot into the evening, face scrunched in pain, heart dead with blackness because then i knew i knew why….. but as dusk turns to night, the revelation she came again….escape….get away from…divorce yourself from ogre….don’t come back….don’t let this happen again….and then i remembered every time i do, i fall into that warm lake that shrinks my spirit and lets me bury the hurt again….this time i will not run i will not. Phone calls break and people are sitting in the best position, reluctantly realigning in the best seat possible. What do they know, with their proposals and those fine limbs lying slumped on their laps, hair parting with the best part of the wind, lets me not digress here, let me not change their lives too much. The man at the bar looks at me gently, then the other guy decides that I that this is not the way it should be. She must stay awake to hear the hearing. She must eat her food, drink her wine, stay balanced on those heels, depend on the older man sitting near the balcony the one with the long hair, the kind eyes, the one who forgets as quickly as he forgives the one who knows the golden ratio. I see him tomorrow for hours to while away to lie and linger in his presence then back to the hell hole i call home. Back to the morbid dogs, the junkies, the dirty kitchen with needles in the soap dish, ritalin in the cereal box and a couch in the lounge that stinks of cats and piss. Broken glasses under foot, foul washing in the bath, shit and hair and pills and stares. I hate that place as much as i hate this sterile hypocrisy i find myself in now.