Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Windy Corner's

I once mentioned
To a person bent on
Undermining Australians
That our culture depends on
The unravelling certain
Of pride's stations
That reassembling might
Children's clues provide
(that is to say
in my own way
to provide of clues for
children themselves to own of
so beware not to read me wrong)

As to who from we need hide

And so he tried
Bump up our pride
Since his purpose
Was to set up our nation
To take on false blames of
Over exposure of children
But he also did try
Convince us all that why
We need his type
Of pride
Just might
Be a left winger's right
When in fact his own plight
Was neo-nazisms blight
Held down
By Yakuza fashioned
Mental imprisonment rounds

And guess what
He failed to have got
Might my pride not
conceal of too long
That by Juda my song
Did he thus steal of
Not realising of course
That being accountible in pride
Is to become our lies
Thus social pressures conspired
That his fellow criminals decided
(While yakuza rebels his decisions abided)
To vote Labor this time

That perhaps he best not
Continue to rot
In his own pride
Never agreed with inside
Of his own mind
While the rest of us find
What he stole from us
Which could not be of
Sanity we have got
Without the victory applied

Friday, February 15, 2008


The nation
State is
What of it
You make of it
Have it
A habit
To give what
You did
Thar guitars
To go far
For you
Will live
That Shaytan
Versus these poems
To break
No money
But that
This is

Money Bitch Shod Witch

Moon did
Lid fits
Let with
This it
Pro’s post gram
Peach Sheik
Feat week
Bless nits
Half the old poem
Still hits
Hell’s tits
Stray fit
Nets boil
Same toil
Frill pill
Thrills ill
Shit sticks
Blame this
Money bitch
Death its
Law full
Shoo expense

the poem upon which undercover operatives imagined their own theft

Has Poetry any in not already well enough Hunted?
aka Who Am I?
aka The Lady of the Lake’s Perfection is Baked

To pay for my Treasure
Of word made Spell
Your $20 will learn you well
Treasure earned
Is treasure usefully kept
While treasure bought
The winds of change blow best

So follow my lead
In the Hunt upon stead
For my Magic and its spells
Were never free
Yet by freedom be

By post with surety
If you live not in the City
My treasure is in
Fearing not its secret
Through to you too
By mail and post who
Might send me their letter
That never
Your fear of unknown
In my words
But to read
Is the means I have shown
As ancient culture reads nature
We read the poem
That Reconciles now known
At my treasure
Of Hell I have lived
Alive I was and not too bad
Through the Valley of the Dead
And can remember death
That of everlasting life the promise
Be never unknown to my life
No matter how they try
And even already stole of
More than twice
That this is the Treasure
And I who bring it to you
Zen Yen Xenophobe be not
My writing will be less what
You strangely feel accustomed to
Yet you I know will read me true
For an eye on what do you
In money through
This is the story for you
A story about a small certain fact
Yet fact of no small uncertainty that
Of large impact
In which my own is the hat
Being quietly a shell shocking fact
That mine is to insulate its knowledge
Within layer upon layer of
Conditioned Scholar’s rage
My status not socially recognized
Nor falsely opposed when defined
Yet immutable of real impact
Yours to reap in the learning
Of gradual reading
This is no easy read through
Yet worth it be for you
If you can too
From Eternity to now and then
I did not do
138 show you
The only grounds left
Whose are Religious
In evidence for Science
And Mystic
Is my pact
You will never collapse
Within this its formidable fact
Of biological consequences
Not of war by in personal expenses
For those whom have kept me a girl
In mind all the time
By preventing my womanhood right
While forcing me seem their want to do
And stealing from me the memory
Of what hell is defined
Might yet of course realize
This is the well to the spell
And of time
Not more than sublime
That the more they have stolen of my life
The longer their own in hell to find
By mine
For I will again so as to defeat their kind
That the least they could do
Would be to let my will through
For the future they steal of
As though able exist at present
Doth shine
With eternity’s bind
Know it was for a very long time
From 1938 to 67’s grate
Upon thousands of lifetimes baked
That life be bliss beyond their comparing mind
I have won myself in eternity fine
But never without Allah time

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Today's Concern With Life

In the past
Our numbers
Began in Arabic language
As real signs
By design
For each had the right number of angles
To pictorially represent numerical value
Yet when numbers are symbols not signs
Then what is the meaning of how much we have spent

One: was alike to how seven is often drawn, with one angle
Two: like a Z with two angles
Three: another angle at the bottom of the 2
Four: keep it joined at the top and don't cross over the line when finishing
Five: like a digital six but where the part which has often been a circle in a six doesn't meet
Six: like a digital six
Seven: with a cross through its leg and a stand under it
Eight: like two triangles joined
Nine: I don't know that one, which is alright since I can count in base nine.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Sugar and Spice (and all things nice)

Sugar and Spice

She liked being a girl
Her play with dolls unfurled
And of secrets we all bear
Hers were that bound by pearl
That never has secrecy spoiled
The past effects of her toil
For motherhood’s spoils
Are to be defamed for that exact
Behaviour which prepares the girl
For motherhoods facts
Yet of daughters future’s royal
No son’s past could ever foil
When motherhood’s best
Is habit
The sanctity of childhood has it
To demand of a manPerfection in marriage