Sunday, September 30, 2007


Hell yes.

Thursday, September 27, 2007


I tried to protect
the flower from
the elements.
When a storm came,
I carried the pot
inside, so we could
watch through the
When the sun was
unbearable, I moved
the pot into the shade.
When it was frosty,
I brought it inside and
left it on the mantle.
I began to fret,
and each day I was
certain that the little
flower in the little pot,
would finally succumb
to danger.

My stomach ached.

One day I came home
on the tram, and the
flower was waiting for me
on the step of my house.

If you keep protecting me,
I will never grow strong enough
to leave my pot, and we will
both wither and die.

I didn't know what to say,
so I stepped aside and let
my tears

Wednesday, September 26, 2007


Day and night,
hour by hour,
people are buffeted by
waves of pain and pleasure,
one after the other.
If they try to experience
only pleasure,
they cease to be truly
Then the pleasure evaporates.

- Japanese poem.


You think you're a tough guy huh?


You think you're pretty smart?

Yeah. Sort of.

What makes you so smart then huh?

Well. I've been able to answer all your questions. That means I must be smart.

You're a fuckwit mate.

Yes. I am a fuck wit. Good tidings.


At night when I'm walking toward the Ruins, I hold my book and look up at the moon and I talk to the drunks who tell me, Judd's signed to Melbourne - but you didn't hear it from us. I hope they're right, not because I care about Chris Judd, but because I hope that the drunks know everything before everyone else. The Underground. The Resistance. That's why they ask for money from some people - Friends of the Resistance, a gold coin donation? - and tell others to fuck off - The time will come, your castles turned to dust. Anyway we talk for five minutes or so because I'm feeling free, free of the constraints of others, free of the fiscal, free of the physical, I remember the transient nature of things, and really, on a baser level - we just make each other smile for a moment in time, and I can afford to do that.

Up in the sky,
the moon climbs higher
to get a better view.
And as I keep walking
street, I smile
at the thought
of what it can see.
The vast forever.
Step and repeat.
Patterns in you,
the flowers,

Tuesday, September 25, 2007


When I was child
I lived on a farm.
One day I stood outside
and saw a flock of birds
floating shape shifter
on the current.
The cool thing was,
my future self stood
beside me, and I heard
him say,
It's a Dragon.
If you want it to be.
And I did.
And it was.
And it still is,
if you want it to be.


While yearning to gain
the depths of the mountains,
I'm drawn against my will
to the places
where people reside

Wednesday, September 19, 2007


This from the High St Festival website.

"A gold coin donation will get you a money-can’t-buy sheriff’s badge"

I repeat.

"A gold coin donation will get you a money-can’t-buy sheriff’s badge"

I repeat.

"A gold coin donation will get you a money-can’t-buy sheriff’s badge"


Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Arse and all.

Last week in The Devil's hotel room, he said:
I've got a fucking right to carry a gun man.
One day I got home, and there was a guy standing over
my girlfriend, pulling the doona back while
she was asleep. I chased him away,
but if I had wanted to, I could have shot him.
That's my right. That is the right of everyone, in America.
To bear arms, to defend that which they love.

The only conversations I'd ever had with anyone
about things like that, were over a latte,
reading the paper, on a fine Spring day.
Never face to face, flesh to flesh,
with someone who
believed it. Lived it.
Bled for it.

I put up an argument. I said, but it's common sense,
isn't it? If you arm EVERYONE,
then there's more chance of things going crazy,
of people being killed. I'm not a believer
in Deterrence.

The Devil looked me in the eye.
Common sense? What the fuck is that?

I don't fucking know brother,
an ideal perhaps.

I laughed.
The Devil shook his head.
I leaned over the table,
and the last of my common sense
was blasted through my nose
and out the back of my head.

Monday, September 17, 2007


And I wish
that you would come on down
and get involved.
And I wish
that you would stick around,
just come on down.


[You can't live like this forever. You think that it's okay, but it's not. Fuck you.]


It's scary, but mostly sad, when you see the reflection. When you're back on the mountain and covered in mud, clawing your way higher to get closer to Heaven. Or in my case, to get away from everyone so I can find a better understanding of The Way. When all of a sudden you see the reflection of the world in the sky above, and there you are - an elemental spectre, seemingly climbing out of the sky toward the earth so that you'll pass each other as the lips of the mountains meet, you into Heaven, and the other you, back down into the Hell you're escaping from.

Well that's a bit fucked, I think. Stop climbing and sit and take in the view. No longer sure which way is up. Remembering A Thousand Cuts, A Thousand Kisses, A Single Moment, Eyes Locked, Skin on Skin, Tears In Their Eyes, Rips In Our Hearts, One Faint Memory...

[I don't even have a memory.]

I do.
I have millions.
And here on the side
of the mountain they begin
to fall
millions and
millions and
millions and
millions and millions
of moments,
none more important than the
next and each one brings
its own joy and
even the terrible and horrific
contrast with the
Light, to create a
form that is neither Black
nor White, but simply


Lord, let it rain on me
Now I know I'm goin' down
I've got a little knowledge, Lord
And I'm about ready now


When the rain stops I can see the river winding its way through the landscape below.

I turn around, and keep climbing.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Fuck World Peace.

The Fake Star Sign I was going to write:

Today you will be completely shocked to find out that your most far-fetched bullshit fuck rock n' roll dream actually has a chance of motherfuckin' happening. You will sit at work, stare at your screen and giggle uncontrollably at the Planets and how things work out. You were in a hotel room semi-naked with one of your rock idols not three days ago, use that as a platform to believe...make a fucking wish baby. Make a fucking wish and watch the stars burn bright.

Hell Yeah.

My Herald Sun Star Sign for today:

Whatever you can do, or dream that you can do, begin it now. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.' So said Goethe a couple of hundred years ago. He could have been writing it with you in mind. The coming months are going to bring amazing possibilities, and today is a time where the initial impetus can easily become apparent. Take note of today's signs and omens, because somewhere in them lie pointers to your possibilities, particularly at the professional level. We make our own fortune, and today is a day where you can influence your medium to long-term future positively.


Crazy. Fucking Crazy.
A week ago I wouldn't have believed.
Now, I'm in the hands of The Devil

Leave, but don't leave me.

Everyone's so on the sniff for honesty that they forget to look for the truth. Honesty is an echo, reflecting, reverberating...honesty is just more fucking people telling everyone, everything, all the time, about themselves. Honesty is just as big a fucking lie as everything else. Like therapy, the modern confessional. You can act how EVER you want, you can fail in new and spectacular ways, you can fuck every one you meet over and out, and you can sit in an air-conditioned room and be told that you're INTERESTING. That you're making PROGRESS. And if you're stupid, you can believe what you're being told by someone who studied your behaviour in a book, and if you're smart you can just put that one hour a week away, somewhere safe, and anytime you look at yourself in the mirror, and catch your own eye, you can just think - I'll leave those thoughts for therapy.


Tell me
the truth.
My truth,
your truth,
or The Truth?
What will it be,
and will you see it
as I do?

The truth is,
you're only afraid
of death if there's
a chance you won't die.

Accept Death, embrace it,
let go of fear,
love, passion, regret
and you'll see it,
the Truth.
As glorious as the brightest star.

You can have the red pill
or the fucking blue pill.
Me? I'll eat
the Salmon Mousse.


Run, rabbit, run
Dig that hole, forget the sun,
And when at last the work is done
Dont sit down, its time to dig another one
For long you live and high you fly
But only if you ride the tide
And balanced on the biggest wave
You race toward an early grave.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Don't speak (I came to make a bang)

Nights like these, I really wish I was more photogenic.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007