The life of the animal is in the blood.

I don't know and that's the truth
The camera don't lie in a photo booth
If you have mercy then you have ruth
There is no gold in that thar tooth.

Come comely sons and silent daughter
Keep yourselves safe near still water
I ought to know more than I oughta
Life's less about nought and more what you fought for.

Life's not nought if you haven't sought her
Life's OK if you are alone
Life's not sort and life's not slaughter
Life's about beating and breathing ozone.

Beggars can be choosers
and choices make me risk her,
So overcome all obstacles
to put salvation on their blisters.

Welcome to 2010.

A celebration of oddness where no two odd people can ever be the same because the sum of their odd components are of a different magnitude of oddity.

A celebration of the minutiae we don't say but write on blogs and concrete paths and sandy dunes.               

A celebration of tiredness and love and impatience and the wound towel in my core.

A celebration of praying for the things that I wont have answered and knowing the carpet of love for me behind that silence.

The celebration that my performance is monitored all my life as I wander the wonderland with my own monitor blinking on and off.

2010 will be my celebration of difference.

Revelation 3.

There are rich people and poor people and the poor people look at the rich people.
There are happy people and sad people and the happy people empathise.
There are loud people and quiet people and the quiet people wonder why people are loud.
There are well people and sick people and the well people work harder.
Lordy why are there so many different people, people made in your image?

God's image, free will and the effects of sin.
Way, truth and life and a bucket of blessings.
All I can see is the bottomless I.
As I stand in the ground with my head in the sky.
Steeple torn clouds going south to find battle
Prismatic people follow like cattle.
I am the sum of all of my chattle
and in my words I paddle and prattle.

Revelation 2.

Have you ever realised, 'This is it I am living my life.'

Revelation 1.

I've had a lot of green lights lately.

Smith street

Where the men wear tats of sailing ships
and the women celtic runes 'pon  hips
and little girls lick sugary palms
and little boys have little qualms.

Beware grafitti and manure and plastic bottle portaloos
'tis a gorganganza of couture
a rich perversity of beauty true
and the trams jang a lang every stanza or two.

All the styles of all the pants
walk the road that lost its chance.
The grey clouds keep the carriage way cool
as I watch from my car like a broadway fool.

Dream of the silver greys.

I was walking along a street. It looked like the U.S.A.

I looked at each person walking by.

I realised I was dreaming and I felt excellent.

A long white cord stretched for miles from my chest to the sky.

I longed to follow the cord even though it was so long.

I was instantly above myself in my bed.

I forced myself to open my eyes. I didn't want to wake up.

I tried again to open my very sore and tired eyes.

I opened my eyes and saw my hands across my chest holding a bible.

I woke up. I was seventeen.