Wow! what a trip! Weed and alcohol are good! (LOL!) Thought the first page was brilliant! But couldnt concentrate on the rest as i get depression. The graphics were excellent. While reading the first page i was remnded of a piece of music called 'Bladerunner Blues' from the film Bladerunner. Wow!.

LOL!

Sunday night melted easily into Monday morning without any sleep.
Like a knife plunged into warm butter.
Must try to cut down on the weed.

Spent the whole morning watching Create And craft TV,
Eyes staring wildly,
Mouth open,
Accepting the subliminal messages about teabag folding.
Willingly.

Had a couple more hits on a bong.
Fell asleep on the sofa till from 14:30 to 19:00,
Waves of home improvement shows and Miss Tiggywinkles Animal Hospital passed me by in an anodyne world of dreams.

Went to the shop.
Bought some lager.
Got drunk.
Smoked some weed.

Had a couple of phone calls from someone who keeps hanging up everytime i say "hello".

Had a hit on a bong.

Tossed myself off to a picture of Mariusz Pudzianowski.

Had another hit on a bong.

Cooked my dinner,
Fried corned beef and rice.
Delicious!
Nectar!

Went to bed,
Dreaming of Mariusz,
Wondering what Tuesday will bring.

(LOL!)

Thanks for the flowers. I feel a little bit embarassed, but its cheered me up. :) .

The phone hardly ever rings,
But when it does,
I answer with a freindly hello,
And then they hang up.
Just a continuous tone.

Nukes.
They are a symbol of one or the other of two things.

They are either:

a) A symbol of the lowest most depraved regions of hate,

or

b) A symbol of the ultimate orgasm!

(Lol!)

Thanks for youre comments guys.

Money.

Like sex,
A lack of it can make you ill.

A fool once said,
"Money doesnt make you happy",
But i'd rather be consumed with sorrow,
Than poor,
Living a life in a vacuum,
Surrounded by four unforgiving walls.

Money.

Like sex,
Is the energy of life.
Without it,
We whither and die.

Sirius!...Sirius!!
I call to you,
Bring me that which i desire,
And finish my pain,
Cut it through with a sword,
And scatter to the cosmic winds.

Sirius!...Sirius!!
Bring me the joy of Orion's company,
Bring me laughter,
Bring me the hope of men,
And the birch in the sauna.

Bring me good fortune,
And wisdom too,
That i may burn like a flame in life,
Extinguished not by misery,
Nor strife,
Nor dissaponintments lost in time.

In the depths of despair,
I realise what would make me happy.

I sit on my bed.
Beside me a Tom Of Finland type guy,
Glorious,
Resplendant,
In leather trousers and harness.

The studded harness seems like it will burst,
Every time he moves a muscle.

We are feasting on lamb doner shish,
Like ravenous wolf warriors,
Drinking lager,
Smoking weed,
Playing darts,
Listening to "The First Rebirth" by Jones and Stephenson (original mix),
Play fighting on the floor,
Laughing and celebrating masculine companionship.

Then,
When Orion rises to his peak,
We embrace,
And fall asleep.

Two plus two equals 3.999999999999999999999999999999999999 recurring.

Only the scum of the world,
Have hate as their value,
Yet often i hate the haters,
But i am not scum.

Now the beer is gone,
And the marijuana done,
I fall like a comet from the sky.

A vague feeling that america is listening,
Reminds me that these boxed up lives we lead,
Are merely dreams in a circle.

I go to my cooker,
And cheer my self with pork loins and beans.

But the joy will not last,
Hopes and dreams are but a fantasy,

There is no hope,
No Balm,
No ending to the grief.

i liked the flowing nature of youre poem. Like a stream or river. lots of thingns to think about in a very deep way.

god! i've got munchies! LOL!

Part of me is dying,
Descending into blankness,
A grim reality,
An infinite crossword with no clues.

In the spaces i write obscenities about god,
Then,
About 30 minutes later,
After four cans of Carling and a couple of Spliffs,
I find myself undergoing a very macho and friendly psychiatric evaluation from a sock hand puppet,
Which is supposed to be the Serpent in the tree of knowledge from genesis,

The sock hand puppet itself has very friendly but crazy googly eyes,
And a very amusing felt tongue.

The results of the evaluation were that;

I should find myself an astronaut, cowboy, or leather clad biker,
to spend the whole day in bed with,
just cuddleing and, well...

LOL!

In this empty room,
There is not the comfort of a ticking clock,
Determined that the deathly day,
Should come as quick as a happy drunken hour fades,
Headlong and resentful into another summer's day,
Forward, forward!, courage, decay,

Sleep, sleep!
Sleep and welcome that anodyne oblivion,
That transcending god who makes misery blind,

Sleep, sleep and suffer not,
Revel in the victory over a world full of ugly truths
Nausea heralds the wake of another day.