finsburyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!
tenaciousA
Posts: 604
fer fack's sake, man
say something!
:D:D:D
say something!
:D:D:D ~all is full of love~
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or was it next hour???
i so wonewee
:P
i've been holding me breath!
all "in" for the evening?
and in fact if we go to line one we have a first time caller from Seattle, Washington, all the way from the United States of America...Good evening, Sir, and your name is....Ed....okay....Hi Ed...what would you like to talk about this morning, or rather evening where you are, my American friend...pardon, my good man?...What do you mean, commercial UK talk radio stations are paid for by corporates with cryptofascistic prerogatives??? ....eh?...what?....What do you mean, our shows are presented by over the hill, racist reactionary bigots in overbright sweaters who were caught by the tabloid paparazzi back in the '80s leaving Kensington brothels and now live out the rest of our days spouting xenophobic drivel about asylum seekers coming into the country in Pot Noodle lorries disguised as batches of chicken and mushroom.....what????...We'll have none of that language here, my lad....this is a family show!!!!!...and DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM????....NO, MY NAME IS NOT S**KC**K!!!!!!! Listen....we've got a f*cking performing squid coming on here in a minute, Veddermelad, and if you mean to tell me that that's not good f*cking family entertainment you can f*cking well know what to f*cking do, don't you???? DONT YOU??????????? AND YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO NOW, DON'T YOU!!!! I'M GOING TO F*CKING WELL HANG UP!!!!!! SO THERE!!!!
Time for a word from our sponsors........"
(ahh *burp* fucking rum.... backwards, yes backwards)
groan nor sigh no heard we and men living fifty times four...
*squeaka squeaka squeka squeaka*
CRASH!!!!
.... ah... okay mates... the squid has landed, er crashed rather, into the soundboard....
calamari anyone?
whenever the sun comes out
whenever the skies are grey
there's always a way up
a way to your heart today
and if you can make it, good
if you can make it, good
if you can make it, good
and if you can make it, good
when i want to find out
whether i lost my way
well isn't it any wonder
that this is what she had to say
it's gonna be good
and if you can make it, good
and if you can make it, good
and if you can make it, good
if you can make it, good
if you can make it, good
if you can make it, fly..........
once in the middle of the night
in the fire burning bright
the shining's coming onto me
yes, you can fly.......
whenever the sun comes out
whenever your skies are grey
always a way up
a way into my heart today
if you can make it, good
a beggar boy was beating on his drum;
he weaved a dance about the legs that walked into his space
just like a pigeon dancing round a crumb.
His blind old father slouched beside him, head bowed down and grey,
His ribs like hollow furrows in the sand.
The old man said, "My boy, you will make nothing good today:
I hear they've put no nickel in your hand."
The boy danced round and round and sought a merchant's passing grace
and grasped upon a tail of purple gown.
The merchant spun around and kicked the poor boy in the face,
The hollow drum resounding, dropping down
upon the marble floor. A tear escaped the poor boy's pride:
The blind man nodded: Sound described it all:
"My boy, you must adventure now and seek your fortune wide;
I drag you down. Leave now, and learn your Call."
The boy looked through the market doors and saw the stalls of gold,
The silken drapes, bright chains, great pots and jars;
He smelt the oils, the herbs asmoke, the fortunes yet untold
to his young life: of business and bazaars.
He heard another boy laugh loudly through the noise inside
and heard his stomach grumble in his ear.
He looked down at his father and knelt to him as he cried,
"How could you think I'd really leave you here?"
And I alas in love with things, the shady spot, the spicy tea, shiny now without the "e", the "e" in you, the "e" in me. But altogether mindful of the "e's" in need, the "e's" in speed. Blow fast us by this eveningtime this next spring day they say is mine, blow fast and I will shield the light, the into which you passed us by if only for a tiny time, if only for a tiny time.
Making bread from faerie beer that gets us drunk in sloe gin time, that pansy red elixir fine that stains the lips like sapho juice in Herbert's grand illusion Dune. Passing through come far come near It passes me sweet honey love in crazy drunken flight like birds do hum once drunk on sour sweet, the sour sweet I made for them last season when the wind blew blue and the sand blew sand and the saints did cry for you for I.
The saints did cry
For You
For I
Their finest work song sing a sigh but spilled into the air this time.
listen you... YOU grabed the muse first
if you'd a let go while i was tickling her
she mighta got away
Duh blossom shimmers nice an' green
An' it git all spring
's plain fer all ta see
mr. carrots lo'es 'es girl
a 'right light in 'is dusty sea
mr. carrots lo'es da books
ta read 'em in 'eir rightful nooks
an' 'ext to ghosties 'at we 'rite
an' inta ref'rence libraries
mr. carrots bid me 'dieu
ta shop fer liquor 'round th' way
he came right back an' logged him on
to come a beck' me call fer play
an' i do thank my kin in clan
fer makin' hours ta minutes span
I do love me dyaogirl
I do love me vino
I do love me books
I do love me guitar
I do love me board
I bin drinkin' nice red
I do love me bed
I do love yo poem, tenashus
an for dat I do love you too
thinks
yer
preshus,
preshus
His eyes are like a Buddhist monk's aquariums in zen-lit glee.
He knows that this white cardboard shipping box he hands me
at the door isn't your usual weekday mailing; it's
made of a whiter card than usual, whiter than a film star smile,
white hot but not hotter than the love contained.
I would like to say I am slow and processional with my big white box,
carrying it to my room for opening:
But actually I fall up the stairs and bang my left shin as I charge, charge, smilingly charge
up to my door. Once in, I peel away and kiss the sellotape that held
the box together for 4,769 miles of its six day journey:
and I find
a Hendrix t-shirt from the Seattle gig a week ago (and it fits like a dream);
I wonder if she wore it for a moment too !
a card of cascade mountains, a bee girl's bee wax lip balm
(so cool on the lips), and a little letter. I know her handwriting now,
the pressure of love on a pen; characters even, open and bold as love.
I have a little capsule of love
A moment of my lover's touch
And I am happy to cry
And I don't mind to be teased for my sentiment.
Now I shall put together MY magic box.....