SoN_of_SaMurAi
Bluelighter
G'day all, I just want to share with you all a little piece of art that I wrote on one of my meth benders. I say a piece of art because it's more that than an actual story.
Although I've edited it for punctuation and grammer it's still the same piece of work that it was the morning after I wrote it. I'd say it took me a 3-4 hours to write that night, due to constant re-reading, editing and so on.
The first paragraph doesnt make much sence but after that it almost resolves itself into a cohesive story.
I'm a big fan of word play and this document highlights that fact.
Enjoy.
The washing of wet noise and a draining, sinking feeling came over like a three fingered, hot footed and cool edged orpfan to an open air market. The sort of orphan who licks brazen lips in anticipation of the glorious fare at hand. Or perhaps as the fairy who licks the glorious fare from his partners jerking, clenched hand. A market this is with nary a fly's breath of shade to sell, but trading a definite darkness nevertheless.....this is and may well be. Baskets, caskets and coffers a'choc full of the cloven pony hooves which are frequently caught, bitten to the quick and stillborn from the throats of the friars five fair wives. And are they not also found, these hoofs, upon the feet of the of the ever impulsive Gameling Cockleaf Swine? A rarer species there never was, and Lo, we are terribly fond of them no? Dear Gazer of Gazzettes, Dear Pesruser of Periodicals, Dear Mediator of Magazines And Knower of the Newspapers, Dear Dear and O' Dear and here we go now (I will say when, but not how long).....Do I hear I an I?, an' I do an' I do an I so do too! Well lets get to it then! As I see it, the I's have it, and so the blind will go without!! Ha Ha, He He, Hoo hoooo!!. Alas....I stray, yea I stray as a jive talking, gun toting, hipcat of a dog may stray whence he finally has enough sense to grab life by the coat-tails, turn tail and high tail it out of this taylor made life. His only wish you can be assured, is that of his lengthy tale being just a little more interesting than that of his peers hairy tales. Again I digress. Ahh so yes still, this feeling....it beggars belief, believe me. Though what pray tell, is a beggars belief? That he will go without again? Believe me I do not know for sure, nor can I best metaphorise the feeling of the metamorphic feeling felt yet, as yet truly undifined, which is to say not truly defined. One doesn't know, nor will many more, be it two,or three,or four, four and eight and seven and so on and so on. Suffice to say, that deep inside lay a knowledge so vastly tremendous and light that even this next oft used symanantic metaphor may not "cut the mustard",(as the trendy are often want to say of late). "An open letterbox in which there is no opening hole but two halves and a gaping middle, takes all that comes from without, and loses all of what goes in"...well that was, I must admit, a bit of a growling bear as far as apt descriptions of The Symiadic Mysteries go.
Now...The Yolk of Our Lady of the Sighing Meat (May our Wet Lips and Roughened Tounges be guided neither by scent nor taste.) was strung up, twice beaten, then left to mature.... the flies loved it. And well did The Reigning Sobates, and even though he was adverse to the lounging and swoon, which lay squallid and sick in the moulded heart of flies, he did also join the dance to the feast, second thoughts or no. Of the first ringing, the bell sounded but once, and in solitude. T' was a call to peirce ones lower lymphatic nodes and sever the nerves therein, then to proceed with the licking of all sides under and over inclusive of the slabbed meat born of her holiness. It was also the gatherers sacred duty to shout blasphemes and heresies to well wishers and a many jolly o' good 'sorts, who's only job par se' was to descant with their small brass horns in musical hymns, hushed and teetering on ecstacy.
On the calling of the second ring, all within 2 feet of said sacrament (which could only mean The Trubadors 'n Sundry and, of course The Reigning Sobates himself) bowed in a 130 degree fanning arc, facing the Outer Scene, while exchanging venomous glances with the deadly wood vipers, twined two and three along the Great Shifting Lines of the twin brothers, Guilt and Blame. Henceforth a bellowing voice would trumpet with the sound as a Bibbling Baffy in full tumble toward yonder downward direction "Bolt they, to them and theirs, in yours, your all and your own head and feet, and leave the talcum powdered skulls you freed behind. This is a coming again that never shall be, and surely for ever more must come, always between the to-ing and the fro-ing, like the See oft did to Saw." This being said, the feeling came asunder and toppled all present up and over where they landed down, but not out. The third toll peeled and the great works of men were spewed from the largest and most affible of sphincters residing within the putrid folds and under the garter straps of The Yolk of Our Lady of the Sighing Meat (May our Wet Lips and Roughened Tounges be guided neither by scent nor taste.) The great works spilled like all too much shaking and striking of straw front door mats. Pieces of art, of mind, of brawn and of precision. Pieces of ugly diabolascies, pieces of grunting and of good cheer. Pieces of waste and pieces of saved novelty, pieces only ever dreamed and pieces we've not had the pleasure or misfortune to have learned. Pieces made only and known only as pieces.
This was how the knowledge was spreading like so much whale milk and mollusc offal, discarded without the cordial blessings bestowed in any way. Suddenly a vision! And all who wittnessed it knew it for truth. The vision was as follows, the blind will forever turn corners in empty space. You See? It's all just a big jigsaw puzzle, this life, and although the maker may have hidden the lid away which shows the picture of what's in store.....well, if you look, you will notice that some of us happen to just know where the end pieces go, and they, as we all know, hold all others in place by the setting of boundries, they cant be broken nor lost, or changed. So heed guidence ye, in all it's guises and disguises too, and the pieces will, let it be said and heard by one other and come back true, all come together, yes they will come to get her...and him. Yes my friend, they are we, and we are they, it's just that we've all been dressed differently.
THINK, BELIEVE, KNOW, WANT, HAVE, AND SHOW.
BLINK NEITHER WITH THINE EYES NOR EARS NOR WITH THINE SOUL. BECAUSE TIME MAY JUST WELL BE VERY VERY SHORT.....
Like a deaf man at a comedy night, with the knowledge provided in this guide, you can be the only one to see what's so funny. And know also how the magician performs his wily tricks when he says the magic words, for you will not be fooled as those who have dumb tounges but not deaf ears. Does the deaf man not know the sound of one hand clapping? "Why it's the same sound as two hands clapping" he'd rightly say and laugh in your face.
You too may know....now now, get that look of superiority off your face it's just a defence, see it all as it is....Just a picture made of words and ryhmes but with a reason thrown in so we dont get too bored.....Now laugh just as they laugh at you.....without reason, simply to satisfy their own half empty hearts and half full heads.
It's just something we all go through, the only thing that stops us from being the same is the same which keeps us blamed, The Uniform Self.......The one that was where we're going, and is where we were, together.
Keep smiling, look after each other...yea even afore you mention your own need, fear not, we will look after you. And if we can't, nor someone likend unto us.....I have a small secret that I am deemed fit to tell. Tis simply thus. Even the man with all the donkeys and carts worries all day as do you, he just gets a nicer place to stay the night but also a higher rung of the ladder to fall if it be his lot. And if he has no-one to truly call "Lover.......Brother....Sister....Friend or simply...The Reason I'm Here!" He is inexerobaly poor, and will covet litatiously the wealth of the friendly Stall Sweep. Now, Good Morn, Noon and Night,
Give thanks and, Amen that this is your story.
Although I've edited it for punctuation and grammer it's still the same piece of work that it was the morning after I wrote it. I'd say it took me a 3-4 hours to write that night, due to constant re-reading, editing and so on.
The first paragraph doesnt make much sence but after that it almost resolves itself into a cohesive story.
I'm a big fan of word play and this document highlights that fact.
Enjoy.
The washing of wet noise and a draining, sinking feeling came over like a three fingered, hot footed and cool edged orpfan to an open air market. The sort of orphan who licks brazen lips in anticipation of the glorious fare at hand. Or perhaps as the fairy who licks the glorious fare from his partners jerking, clenched hand. A market this is with nary a fly's breath of shade to sell, but trading a definite darkness nevertheless.....this is and may well be. Baskets, caskets and coffers a'choc full of the cloven pony hooves which are frequently caught, bitten to the quick and stillborn from the throats of the friars five fair wives. And are they not also found, these hoofs, upon the feet of the of the ever impulsive Gameling Cockleaf Swine? A rarer species there never was, and Lo, we are terribly fond of them no? Dear Gazer of Gazzettes, Dear Pesruser of Periodicals, Dear Mediator of Magazines And Knower of the Newspapers, Dear Dear and O' Dear and here we go now (I will say when, but not how long).....Do I hear I an I?, an' I do an' I do an I so do too! Well lets get to it then! As I see it, the I's have it, and so the blind will go without!! Ha Ha, He He, Hoo hoooo!!. Alas....I stray, yea I stray as a jive talking, gun toting, hipcat of a dog may stray whence he finally has enough sense to grab life by the coat-tails, turn tail and high tail it out of this taylor made life. His only wish you can be assured, is that of his lengthy tale being just a little more interesting than that of his peers hairy tales. Again I digress. Ahh so yes still, this feeling....it beggars belief, believe me. Though what pray tell, is a beggars belief? That he will go without again? Believe me I do not know for sure, nor can I best metaphorise the feeling of the metamorphic feeling felt yet, as yet truly undifined, which is to say not truly defined. One doesn't know, nor will many more, be it two,or three,or four, four and eight and seven and so on and so on. Suffice to say, that deep inside lay a knowledge so vastly tremendous and light that even this next oft used symanantic metaphor may not "cut the mustard",(as the trendy are often want to say of late). "An open letterbox in which there is no opening hole but two halves and a gaping middle, takes all that comes from without, and loses all of what goes in"...well that was, I must admit, a bit of a growling bear as far as apt descriptions of The Symiadic Mysteries go.
Now...The Yolk of Our Lady of the Sighing Meat (May our Wet Lips and Roughened Tounges be guided neither by scent nor taste.) was strung up, twice beaten, then left to mature.... the flies loved it. And well did The Reigning Sobates, and even though he was adverse to the lounging and swoon, which lay squallid and sick in the moulded heart of flies, he did also join the dance to the feast, second thoughts or no. Of the first ringing, the bell sounded but once, and in solitude. T' was a call to peirce ones lower lymphatic nodes and sever the nerves therein, then to proceed with the licking of all sides under and over inclusive of the slabbed meat born of her holiness. It was also the gatherers sacred duty to shout blasphemes and heresies to well wishers and a many jolly o' good 'sorts, who's only job par se' was to descant with their small brass horns in musical hymns, hushed and teetering on ecstacy.
On the calling of the second ring, all within 2 feet of said sacrament (which could only mean The Trubadors 'n Sundry and, of course The Reigning Sobates himself) bowed in a 130 degree fanning arc, facing the Outer Scene, while exchanging venomous glances with the deadly wood vipers, twined two and three along the Great Shifting Lines of the twin brothers, Guilt and Blame. Henceforth a bellowing voice would trumpet with the sound as a Bibbling Baffy in full tumble toward yonder downward direction "Bolt they, to them and theirs, in yours, your all and your own head and feet, and leave the talcum powdered skulls you freed behind. This is a coming again that never shall be, and surely for ever more must come, always between the to-ing and the fro-ing, like the See oft did to Saw." This being said, the feeling came asunder and toppled all present up and over where they landed down, but not out. The third toll peeled and the great works of men were spewed from the largest and most affible of sphincters residing within the putrid folds and under the garter straps of The Yolk of Our Lady of the Sighing Meat (May our Wet Lips and Roughened Tounges be guided neither by scent nor taste.) The great works spilled like all too much shaking and striking of straw front door mats. Pieces of art, of mind, of brawn and of precision. Pieces of ugly diabolascies, pieces of grunting and of good cheer. Pieces of waste and pieces of saved novelty, pieces only ever dreamed and pieces we've not had the pleasure or misfortune to have learned. Pieces made only and known only as pieces.
This was how the knowledge was spreading like so much whale milk and mollusc offal, discarded without the cordial blessings bestowed in any way. Suddenly a vision! And all who wittnessed it knew it for truth. The vision was as follows, the blind will forever turn corners in empty space. You See? It's all just a big jigsaw puzzle, this life, and although the maker may have hidden the lid away which shows the picture of what's in store.....well, if you look, you will notice that some of us happen to just know where the end pieces go, and they, as we all know, hold all others in place by the setting of boundries, they cant be broken nor lost, or changed. So heed guidence ye, in all it's guises and disguises too, and the pieces will, let it be said and heard by one other and come back true, all come together, yes they will come to get her...and him. Yes my friend, they are we, and we are they, it's just that we've all been dressed differently.
THINK, BELIEVE, KNOW, WANT, HAVE, AND SHOW.
BLINK NEITHER WITH THINE EYES NOR EARS NOR WITH THINE SOUL. BECAUSE TIME MAY JUST WELL BE VERY VERY SHORT.....
Like a deaf man at a comedy night, with the knowledge provided in this guide, you can be the only one to see what's so funny. And know also how the magician performs his wily tricks when he says the magic words, for you will not be fooled as those who have dumb tounges but not deaf ears. Does the deaf man not know the sound of one hand clapping? "Why it's the same sound as two hands clapping" he'd rightly say and laugh in your face.
You too may know....now now, get that look of superiority off your face it's just a defence, see it all as it is....Just a picture made of words and ryhmes but with a reason thrown in so we dont get too bored.....Now laugh just as they laugh at you.....without reason, simply to satisfy their own half empty hearts and half full heads.
It's just something we all go through, the only thing that stops us from being the same is the same which keeps us blamed, The Uniform Self.......The one that was where we're going, and is where we were, together.
Keep smiling, look after each other...yea even afore you mention your own need, fear not, we will look after you. And if we can't, nor someone likend unto us.....I have a small secret that I am deemed fit to tell. Tis simply thus. Even the man with all the donkeys and carts worries all day as do you, he just gets a nicer place to stay the night but also a higher rung of the ladder to fall if it be his lot. And if he has no-one to truly call "Lover.......Brother....Sister....Friend or simply...The Reason I'm Here!" He is inexerobaly poor, and will covet litatiously the wealth of the friendly Stall Sweep. Now, Good Morn, Noon and Night,
Give thanks and, Amen that this is your story.
