A few words on thee subject ov stress….Fucking bollocks, wankers, cunts…..thank you (tongue in chic)

Damp cell
A man on a rock, staring out to see, he turns thee world, on his golden fingers, E see his tattoo, it stares at me, thee eyes ov thee skull, thee cosmic joker, they cannot wash him clean, they know not what it means? , They kiss his feet ov fear, in homage to his love. Thee ground is spinning circles, E bend and touch thee shell, E feel it’s twists and turns, it’s journey and ov age, it glistens in thee damp cell, it calls E hear thee voice, thee shapes they change before me, thee water breaks my brow, thee beach knows my name, my tears are also saline, E am thee sea, E am thee rock, E am thee world, spinning in my fingers. (10/02/92)

Legion
My life is like a rose and falling down a long flight ov steps, thee numbing ov thee moral sense, sometimes they answer my scourge, breathing deep ov thee serpent, E am tempted to lose my mind until darkness returns like a dog on a leash and now E speak in tongues, E dream alive and free, E see thee guilt in Jesus, E see it holds control, in cannabis psychosis E taste ov what is real, in vortex neon spirals E receive ov me, Violent isolation therapy who is more insane? thee tricks ov fact or reason or damaging thee brain, E am no-one many, E have cause to effect, legion for we are many and we are rising yet, E exorcise your god, E exercise my spirit and my will to my truth, blessed be. (11/02/92)


“You’ll find it hard to focus-just keep on trying, suddenly time will alter along with your perceptions and you will hit a period ov trance where thee conscious and subconscious mind are triggered in unison by thee mantric vibrations ov thee myriad dots” – Genesis P.Orridge

Sense
E was walking in thee pink flamingo rain, and E looked up into thee peach flavoured sun and E asked you if you would like to kiss a rainbow, and your reply was too deep for my mind, she said tangerine popsicles destroy lemon dreams. Well that took a long long time to understand, but finally E had worked it all out, she meant all thee rich bishops in their shiny tower blocks were pissing coffee coloured ice cream on to thee outcasts ov her mind, yeah and that sure made some sense to me. So E told her ov an old barnacle diamond, who had shone its sensory knowledge within my Technicolor soul, and she asked me if E liked to swim thee mushroom valleys, and E replied there’s no snow without a kaleidoscopic sunset, yeah and that had certainly made sense to her. So we danced to thee fig life orchestra and played with my opal tambourine, and E suggested that time was a figment ov reality, and she laughed coz time was a fortune ov thee poppy field moonbeams, and that made no sense to me at all… and that was good!

everything we see is in our own heads-Buckminster Fuller