http://ohthesemisecrets.bandcamp.com/

Release of songs recorded with Magic Cousins

2011-03-20T18:49:00.000-07:00

Finally the old recordings ALMA NOFEAR with Magic Cousins are available to be bought and owned, click on the link or find it on Itunes.
Produced and partly mixed by MATT COUSINS (GOLDEN HUM STUDIO)
Mixed and Mastered by SALVADOR GARZA (VADOINMESSICO)

a Man of Words..

2011-03-20T18:48:00.000-07:00

Listen..

My Love I burnt the House down

2011-03-20T18:44:00.000-07:00

HAve a listen...

SINNERMAN

2011-03-20T18:33:00.001-07:00

PLEASE LISTEN TO OUR NEW RECORDING IN PROCESS

Uttja, Älvsbyn å Pitevägen 2010

2010-09-04T12:24:00.000-07:00

Tova with a fractured leg summer 2010

Our usual trip

In Lasse's childhood home we made a fire & sat in the smoke

Love Letter

2009-08-21T12:51:00.000-07:00

I'm mad in love with a young man, who has craze about me too

we kiss all day and all through the night if I wake and we are apart my mouth feels dry

I thirst for the kiss, he has big fat lips,

I relax and let it go

my head dangles like a puppet when my womb bangs heavy

it is on fire

He rides when he walks, he is silent when I talk

I sleep when he watches, I can not get him off my sight

He whispers when he is near, I just sit and stare

When waiting for bad luck to arrive, he winks it off from the corner of his eye

I sigh I feel safe, when he leaves I brake, just in front of him for a minute

So he knows I am all his, so he know I care

We drink wine and fall drunk asleep, so true my love my heart my hand

Old man has fears, I get old, he holds me tight

Young man has brave, I get young, he knows me well

rigorous fika

2009-01-19T11:29:00.000-08:00

"Fika, a social institution in Sweden, is both verb and noun in Swedish and has a broad definition. Essentially, it refers to a break from one's activities in order to drink coffee or other drinks with friends, family or acquaintances. This tradition of a coffee break with a snack is central to Swedish culture, and Swedes are one of the world's top coffee consumers.

A fika can be carried out at a cafe, in the workplace, outdoors or at home. Fika generally involves coffee, but drinking tea is also common. Children may elect to drink juice, milk or similar beverages. Snacks such as pastries, biscuits or sandwiches are also common.

Many Swedish workplaces have institutionalized morning and afternoon coffee, but fika is not just a break from work. It is also a casual social gathering." (WIKIPEDIA)

In northern Sweden and some rural areas, fika may mean coffee without any treats: Ta en kopp fika ("Have a cup of coffee")"

In rural part of Swedeland,
In the North,
the treat of "fika" is the actual bitter taste without the sweet sensation.
The rural ones, do not even taste sweet words without an urging feel of ice cracking emotional outbreak
What work would be done and what roles would we play rolling around covered with sugar and cinnamon all over?
We be spoilt and think life's nothing but a sweet treat
and a conversation could just be lighthearted as the southern city indwelled ones and therefor every word tasted and used, might not any longer have a true meaning.
The whole rigorious mood that is set for the people who lives clingingly close to the artic circle would have to change.

Instead we incorporate birch-tree-sap for refreshement
and stroke the sweethearts(sötnos)nose with the back of the hand,
or more likely the back of the fingers
since the palm is often too rough from hard work,
This grand action shows real emotion
and a bond has been made
A bond that could last a whole lifetime if the village is rural enough
.

Lost in recession

2009-01-12T07:16:00.000-08:00

Karatekiddo...you´re screwed
today is the first day , besides the other first illfitted days not counted,
to show how a job don´t come easy
I once worked as a builder
i can tile, I can tear down the walls
I sure can weld too..
I wanna a job
I wanna build a submarine
Not to war with
but to raw with,
we have no water in shanty town, where I have house living at
there's planty of water outside, splaching coldly out from the gutter
as our taps and toilets run dry

Buster sent me this Picture
and I love it

She is me on my good day
On a not so good day
She is my heroin
And she has got a job
A serious one

I got a little blowtorch

people are personal always check their out of date as well as the terminal you are flying from.

2009-01-04T03:36:00.000-08:00

Current mood: adored <3

christ is time for merry kisssmess
this time of year i always get confused on who not to kiss and who to kiss
Shall i kiss the one I miss
though He ain't there
I must kiss the one I don't miss since He is present
I did once to try and now i can't stop
and the missing of the kissing has gone
My mouth has turned to a constant pout for more more and more
as mouths can do when lips turn into a constant feed somehow
(in bugsy malone, ganster man's his mouth turned into the shape of an oyster my man told me I must see it again to get the real pitty started)
from pitty to acceptance to love
it is the love or at least acceptance time of year and people is dangling on the edge of emotion
big time
huffing scuffing bitches and evil men shouting
or drunken kisses of the public offenders
we all are
I tried to help with some gingerbread latte the girl in the union jack dress crosseyed from too much drugintake high as the heels she was trying to take on west end in
her two lady friends where trying to support her while they where gurning away on the inside of there cheeks
keep the christmas spirit high was their motive

Then missed my flight that was gonna take me to my homeland way too early this morning
the not helping heathrowian airline people saw my stress and gathered force to make me cry
which i did a lot of
a river of tired tears as i hated people through the dim vision
ooooh i cried so much their manager had to come and help me get words out instead of stuttering: st o o o c k k k h h h o o l l m mmmm
the e en the fooorr r r e e e v v e e r t t t rai i i n u u u p n n n n or r t h
the thought of being stuck in the town of Grey made me wanna move back into my mothers womb for to never leave again
with todays technology i could still communicate and make songs to record from in there
lucklily i was rescued by a gentleman whom so greatly booked another ticket for me
(and saved the world for I was going to plant stink bombs full of gastric urin rat piss, hound dogs peewee hermans squashed vocals mixed with casting agents perverted dreams on how to commercialise EVERYTHING possible foamy top would be old cocks and hens dangly neck bits...
The potion would have been lethal for the christmas spirit and everyone would have instantly quit shopping freneticly and the worlds engines would stop for a bit just so everyone could take a break to hold their breath for the ghastly stink bomb)
back to the kissing,
I felt so happy I kissed the gentleman over and over and over and over again till the day stopped and it got dark and he had to go and i had to write down the christmas tale of today
My Papa wasn't too happy
He hoped I haven't placed myself in debt to a man
Papa hates debts.
So do I
He don't like many men either
But I so do
Gentlemen are few these days
Damsels are forever in need of sweet show care from brave goofs
Gentlemen needs kisses like mountaintops needs snow to be looked up to

Snow
high sugar
here I come

Currently listening
I wanna Know
By: Sugar Pie Desanto

Dear Diary of Boredom...

2009-01-02T15:02:00.000-08:00

gee wizz

The new year spat in my face at 6am

But it was nice clean spit

like laplandic punkkid party trick spit sort of

similar to lemon icecream with liqurice ripple

& with a greeting all the way from n.y

I felt sick at first but widened my smile for the cause of the Fantomen

& Alabama

(Golly

I miss those ladies

We have a quartett with Mr.Cc

We play balls when we come together

But it ain't no fotball team. )

The bacterias of last year are still clinging on

but I went out and cooled them off

It is -26 degrees C here today

I have become a weakling

Beacuse I am just not used to it anymore

If I misbehave and fail I will go to icehell I figure

My sister knows a family that have named their children after temperature meizurements

One is called Jan Fahrenheit

& his sister is called Celsius something

They got another sibling too

but my sister couldn..t remember what that one was called

Here my hair gets witchy frosty whenever I venture out for a walk

Then my joints freeze and my toes feels external from my body

My eyelashes stick my eyes together with little icedrops from the tears that well up from the shocking cold
& highpitch voiced I wish for hot fire..

So I stay in and watch Flash Gordon on tv instead

Flash Gordon is trying to save the Ice Queen in Falgeria (oh I..m not sure her Queen/kingdom is called like that?)

& Mother has a secret lover

I spotted him the sweet shop in the village where Mother lives

I could tell from far that the man had a good eye for Mother since he started growing eyes in his neck as he picked sweets for his evening treats

(I spy with my sifty eye)

I sifted all other details away and awaited the moment he turned around with a big surprised looking smile to greet her

Mother purred for a bit, then we left & I knew something sweet was cooking at Mother's

That was mighty interesting

After a whole nights interrogation & a whole bottle of wine Mother finally confessed...something
I swore to secrecy..

I have realised how bored this holidaying is

Got so much to do instead of just eating chocolates

Like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland

I got to find oncoming income

And other things to sort out

Worldly stuff

Worldly troubles as ..Karlsson på taket.. says

An Astrid Lindgren caracter, a sort of fable sibling to

Pippi Långstrump(the worlds..strongest girl)

Anyway. That kind that makes my head spin and limbs twitch nervous

Im heading back to my lover
he has written to me

Eartha Kitt!

2008-12-29T06:34:00.000-08:00

Rest peacefully Kitten

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQ5VaBgXzuM

¨'

2008-12-26T07:53:00.000-08:00

no no no ain´t no blue eyed christess
ai ai
I hear I speak with flamed toungue
lay low in line with me bon bon
(rough laugh say ; they fuck like foxes)
kiddie song with condom on
loud and make scare for others ears
in the den snuff smell sweat
burned out fears

swollen bite
too much flesh so I can not tell
how much of the feel is for the that thine
stutter words and love make written like that
not if my language is the translation of what started
for big piece of word teller gape and swear
But in care uncountable
wide are arms and breast and chest
he is my funfair
something new not like the rest

I cut my hair
to lose old ends
new with he or what he wants to be
he is she a girl when he dresses like me
funny faces long toungue lick
No fright good enough so he stays
this is good

break down and let it all out

2008-12-19T10:48:00.000-08:00

As i was digging in the treasure box of this pirate woman who turned her outside looking wonderful and widesmiling the wolf grin you just cannot miss, she is the business, I seel her gems and i sell skulls for her, while i dislike the role I play
I do not in other seasons dislike,
I take on the role for to go on holiday from myself but at times like christmas I take part of foolishness and pressing emo buttons and talk to get those people out of my face with a big smile talking while fending the proposal against the money bag they got clutched clwas on.
All this for to pay my way, since i do not eat bacon, i bring home the bread instead
(pigs dna are so close to our dna, so close we are using their organs for transplantion in our bodies, swapping organs just like that, though i doubt they swap it is more of a take then we eat you...the pig on the tesco shelf might be tha mother pig of the one the gave their heart to your uncle so to speak)

aaauuuwwwwghhh

blunders of wonder am

2008-08-17T02:19:00.000-07:00

tilted and weedly wild
my head turns from side to side
the excorsist has hunt head down
bounty hunter
debt collector
love doctor
we all sit above the law
exceot the ones who created it

are we what we make?
but the making are of what is us
are we at war with ourself when the makings are not becoming what we want?
expect nothing
it must be the parental obiedience
of the making

i make you through the eyes of loving
adore the hunger
it feeds the mind
make less of body
feel ultimate
make the most of body
all threads of nerves and secret cupboards within
we do not know the mystery we are in
we breath without thinking
but in the city I love with too much thinking
and it sure clogs the outlet
damn the fright of nothing and everything

who can ever make anything freely ¨
and know its unlimited being of no plan
when timorouseness is being selektive
and already has ready result at hand?

hungry wolves hunts the best & little indians tissle tassle with sneaky peaky beaks I can not trip on the train with broken thights in crotch aoch..

2008-08-04T11:45:00.001-07:00

-So sorry but deliberate hi´s and oh´s
might get winky wanks....

the behind man is on the train station every night
every time I take the train
he is seeing me off, me and everyone else
He likes thights
I seem to always wear thights for comfort when travelling
Eh, he prefers black, I wore grey this time
he still liked them
he touched my leg and i told him off like a child, because he is in a way,
innocent as a child, and knows his lust with not much shame,
still knows the limits
Even though he must be about fifty something,
He is, what you call, the village fool.

After he touched my leg, he walked away
grabbing his groin, and shouted,
- football..

He loves trains, black cars, black thights, and porridge
People do not make fun out him, well they do...not in such an evil way
more like as they village people act towards the log lady in twin peaks, but in a less freightened way.
They know, even the ones who´s not from the village, they all understand
The station is in many ways his as much as the travellers, or actually
even more than theirs.
He is there every night
he knows the train times by heart
And shows his wrist watch and shouts out the time.
and see all off.
One time they gave him a free ride on the train, and gave him a train conductors jacket.
He wears it sometimes,
he prefers to wear a tie on sundays.
He is one of the first to see on arrival, and one of the last to see you off

nofear, noenvy, nomeaness,

2008-08-03T05:09:00.002-07:00

Category: Romance and Relationships

with enough Kurage you can do without a reputation

says red to scarlett while she grinds her teeth with grit

some red earth

some like their greens

short short story ´bout the continueous adventures of F.F.F

2008-08-03T05:09:00.001-07:00

Category: Romance and Relationships

Fine Flying Finn Fucked off with thumping Lovehearts in his red blurred eyes

-Hot stuff, he shouted down the streets of the hot stuffs shit area of residence

-get your arse down here, spring has arrived,

i mean, it´s almost summer....

Time for adventure, a roadtrip to the coast or such, wherever really, Reigate even, like some fucking happy go lucky hippie, peace love and satisfaction, he would take off with this bird, Lovejoy and get some, while the sea or fresh air would take her breath away, he´s nob her down & finally have the opportunity to take his mind of the load of dustrats he´d been stackiing away during winter, all gathering under the carpet, bankfuckingbills & that loan to his gran, the neighbours rawl ¨bout vague remeberence of burglery he might have not or might have done in absence of memory and all the shit he wasn´t some idiot cableguy who´d bind himself to anyone, he just wanted to relax for some satisfaction for fucks sake!

well whatever..sexaddict or what, he sure was a man that outgrown his binliner nappies, now ready to get some taste of lifes fun before he´d for sure sort some of that shit out...

He was sure that this mini-journey, this time, god damnit, the road would take him somewhere, not just to elephant and casastles roundabout back and forth over the river dragging his feet in teh muddy banks of the yakky river of thames

Billybay Lovejoy Babydoo

was the name of his resent lovess.

A girl of decent calibre,

would shoot a hoot any time

Well , she bloody wasn´t answering or showing that face of hers through the window,

pearls scattered outsie her gate, probably that tranny who lived opposite Billyboy Lovejoy Babydoo...Loved her fucking name..

rang the bell...no response

He better get upstairs and get her himself....doors locked, & loud strips of music coming through, no answer,

listening through the crack of her broken door, last week he banged on it too hard in a drunken moment with Jelousy accompanioned a heavy minded turned paranoid night from bashes of too much booze and weed and clashes with random peoploeoeosious....

he saw her through the keyhole, that horny bird, craving all mens attentaion, that´s what he really like about her at he same time really bothered with...

Cause...Now the bitch was wearing that scanky silky robe of hers, stained under her arms and neck, with half of her arse hanging out watching half bemused glaced eyelids down, smirking while some other motherfucking guy were tapdancing for her looking all wildeyed bewildered with lust....

Fine Flying Finns hands twitched and long claws drew from his fingertips as he silently tore away another piece of Billyboy Lovejoy Babydoo´s door, ate the splinter & walked downstairs balancing the part that once might had been a heart on his head, do so, practising proud posture, making his way out with some excellent grace, who a minute ago had hopes for an easy way out, mind abundance, now snared with doubts of his value as a man with something to do, the purpose of sun , the purpose of today, the possum of purpose..

Fine Flying Finn got on a bus to south bank, sat down with his can of whatever, scratched his vesslelike face and thought no more of ill Billyboy Lovejoy BAbydoo....

Short story II

2008-08-03T05:08:00.001-07:00

Current mood: chipper
Category: Writing and Poetry

On the count of seven Fine Flying Finn went through the door after have been sitting counting to seven for at least three quarters of an hour

Finally he's on his way to face destiny once more...

The world outside seemed to lack in colour, well, there was enough of grey.

But as his hypo allergic pet Five-legged-lacy, the stick insect, said;

-Hey man, the sky ain't greyed...its fuckin' silver, right...

In her mancunion accent everything sounded just a touch heavier, like you'd put a drumstick through the throat or somethin'...but it made you feel like every word was said with an effort, so it just gotta be true..

So Fine Flying Finn posed for a half second after he said seven, then, as said,

sprung to the door, opened the giant piece of battered wood with green flaky strips of old paint

The gate back and forth to hell or heaven. You never knew which one was on each side..

He clasped his raisin wrinkly eyelids together, just couldn't face the day..

Get yourself together man!

Sort it out! Don't wanna be a fuckin' freak, like those fuckers who's on anti-depressing pills..Cause they can't seem to be able to face the day..

He swallowed some saliva while gathering himself.

Folded up his eyelids, and fought his light sensitive eyes to stare right out, ignoring the bloody tears that exploded like a fountain when daylight hit them.

Hell, shit fuckers...cunt faces...billboard arses...

He kept cursing to himself, making up new ones as he walked along the road to the bus stop...

He felt more stable after a while, creating swear words like; menstruation bitch, lip-sucker-twat and so on. Not at anyone specific, just getting back to shape...

Maybe he'd sell this cure for fear, creating curses, have like, workshops or whatever they're called to learn people how to leave their houses without stuffing their arses full of white little pills, mothers little helpers, shit ones...

He knew 'bout these little fuckers, since the last serious girl he was seeing, four years ago.

Was constantly munching away on something medical, with droopy eyes, she stared at him with nothing shining through, just empty...he used to slap her lightly and shag her like a bull to try to wake her up, finally one day she legged out of the house when he flushed down all her gear down the loo...the whole pillbox...He felt as though he'd been cheated on, by those pills, he just couldn't stand them.

He preferred to curse whole day through to manage being around other people, especially on the fuckin' public transport

What the hell was wrong with people, not only they stared as though their eyeballs would pop out of their bloody heads, they stank like old shit hole as well...

-Wash your fucking ass, use some fucking soap!!

He shouted on the street, when one man passed him with a stench like nothing you felt before, maybe if you'd been stranded somewhere, like Calais, waiting for the ferry to take you over, but constantly missed the boat so you had to sleep on a hard green ergonomically shaped chair, drinking yourself to sleep, for a fortnight, then sticking your hand down your pants for some pleasant scratching, and shockingly getting your secret smell when trying to take another sip of your beer, anyway, it's a good wake up call to get you back on track....

Just like that sinful smell, that made you wanna get a hose and detergent to wash away...

-Man, keep that stench to yourself!

He got on the bus, nodding his head, sticking his chin out in a mean manner,

Like as if he was listening to some house music, although he wasn't, since he had a bit of a phobia for keeping his ears plugged off in public.

You never knew who'd hit you from behind...

Fine Flying Finn got off the bus next to the jobcentre, he was late, and knew he had to get back another day to sign on, he cursed a bit more, but his cure seemed to had worn off by this point, maybe he used it all up?

Like in a computer game, you need to load up for more power, he'd shot his gun empty...

He queued up, and the oldish looking security guy was eyeing him, as he slandered him quietly before speaking

-It's a late signing....well I gotta get a new appointment...

He sorted all his shit out at the jobcentre, fanning his shirt, his upper lip dripping of sweat, licking the salty taste as he left the most horrible building he knew of today

One day, he'd get paid for having such a genius mind, someday, and then he could look back at the man and ask him to brush his shoe with the ugly mop of hair, for a grand...

That's right, he'd fuckin' give the old security guy a grand to brush Fine Flying Finns shoe shiny like his grannies pennies...Cause Fine Flying Finn ain't no cheapskate...

The though made him turn his thin lips upwards, and he felt like the man of his mind.

He bought some fig rolls in the corner shop and stared at the girls queuing in front of him.

Maybe he'd get a girlfriend?

Maybe he'd go out on Saturday and not get shit-faced, just have a few pints and get all smooched up, like say things like; -I read this book, blab la, well whatever, he knew he could charm the pants of any girl if he was just acting an equal part interested, then not interested then shy and then confident, the ladies lust loved that whole lad show...

But just the thought of it made him extremely tired and carsick as he watched the girls in front of him looking so confident and smiling at each others jokes, so he'd just paid for his fig-rolls, and hurried home to Five-legged-lacy and his computer game...

He'd stop along the way to give Tony the tumbler a call; he might be up for something...anything, since Fine Flying Finn couldn't get away from his own private un-satisfying feeling.

Tony the tumbler was clever in a, he loathed the word but it had to be said,

sensitive kind of way...He never butted in on any subject that wasn't alright to be talked 'bout...he waited till the right time to speak and then normally got it right...

Fine Flying Finn hurried his fingers to make the call for salvation of the day...

Though he never ever said a word of appreciation to Tony,

But surely just the company of his was enough, he even bought the fig-rolls, Tony wasn't called the tumbler for nothing, he loved eating..

The idiot tumbler didn't pick up his phone!

Hell, all credit he just gave him for being clever got lost like a fart in the wind...

Fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK fuck...devil shat himself and blamed the sinnerman..

Fine Flying Finn got his head sown on his knees and tried to beat the shit out of the pavement as a repay,

The street cracked one hit after another, his iron-fist was like a sledgehammer, he was great like that, his superpowers made his knuckles grow and his fingernails became like 3inch nails as he cut the barbwire off his face..while struggling to free the fig-rolls from the fat arsed tumbler, dumb-arsed fucker, who...

Then Finns phone rang.

-Alright geezer?...sure, I'm around....

I'm some Fine Flyin' Fucker, he swore to himself and got the crumpled up fig-rolls from the street and put it in his pocket..

It'd been Gorje, or something like that, he was some eastern European refugee character or something, who lived in a squat round the corner,

The Russian had the most fucked up eating habits Finn ever seen..not that he ever put much notice to other creatures diet, except for five-legged-Lucy's of course, well she only ever had leafs really, and reefers..he chuckled a tension too high, cleared his throat and slouched round the back of the alley to get to Gay-Gorjy's place, he only called him that cause he couldn't think of anything else to name him, and he'd never seen him with a bird anyway..

Well, when Gorjy been held arrested for terrorist-plan-suspicion by the coppers,

his alibi apparently had been that he stayed tha particular nite at some bitches house in Hackney.

He'd told Fine Flying Finn all this while he ate some ape-food, well really, it had been catfood, mixed with some sour milk he'd found in Somerfields throw-outs, he'd been scuffing it all down, sour milk running down the side of his mouth all down his beard-patched chin as his jaw chewed away on both Russian accented words and dried pieces of liver, duck feet and what the hell they put in pound-stretchers pet-food.

He'd appreciate the fig-rolls.

Knocked seven times on the wonky door to the squat and some wind-blown smackhead-look-alike opened, empty eyed, mouth half opened, it made him wanna put his fist in there to see if the idiot even fucking notice...

-Yeah?

-Gorje

-Yeah

-Yeah, Gorje, I'm here to see Gorje, mate

-Uh, sure..

That's bloody it, he deserved more in life than standing hanging around some shitty quarter of a door to some half of a house...

Smelling of cat shit and all, he stepped in and walked to the kitchen, where Gorje usually where sitting watching TV, as he where today as well...

-Hey, Fine Fly!

He couldn't even say his name in a proper way, but decided to let it go,

he was a foreigner,

And he'd escape some prison or some bad work or something..

He could relate to that...once Fine Flying Finn had to work in Harrods warehouse, it only lasted a couple of weeks, but it was fucked up, he had to wear some green plaid all button up, and all staff had to walk in a special staff entrance, like sheeps, every hell-made morning...it made him wanna puke his guts up every fucking new day at 8am...so sure, he could relate to Gorje, so what if he called him a fine fly, it had a twang of Curtis Mayfield, yeah, Fine Flying Finn had soul...

He scratched his balls and nodded as he threw the fig-rolls on the table...pretended not to see the intense stare from the smack-head fuckwit that followed him down to the kitchen...

As Gorje was munching away on the sweet fig-rolls, Finn started feeling funny again, like really fucking uncomfortable, itching and almost nauseas as the smell of this rat-like people breeding their body fluids as stinky as they could ever manage...Their flees where running all down his shirt as the walls were woo-wooing at him and the ceiling sank towards his head...he got up and got out without a word.

-Fly, fine Fly?

He heard the Russian shout his made up name after him, almost choking on those bloody fig-rolls, he hoped he would, and that the smack-head squatter would suddenly get on top of Gorje and eat his throat open...as he imagined his last gurgles, he slammed the door after him and started running down the street,

Back to the old flaky door, where his sexy Five-legged-Lacy would be waiting for him, unless she'd been fucking herself with some twig she found, or maybe she could be using

her own leg?

As a man of scientism, he better check it out, why search outwards for some interesting shit, when it's just under your own bleeding nose...

Five giant steps to reach the door, 4 seconds to get keys out and open the lock, a bit more than a second to shut, and before the count of ten, he was safe inside.

It's all 'bout timing, cannot let the manmade world outside rule your life he thought as he fingered his way down some branch in his favourite living creature on earths glass box...

She smiled curiously as she wiggled her stick like body and said with her northern husky voice;

-Alright man, give us a wee winch, so to say welcome home..

'Cause, Home is where your heart is.

short story

2008-08-03T05:07:00.000-07:00

Current mood: blank

Fine Flying Finn went up the stairs to his mamas bedroom,

scorning for some cash, like he always did when he was desperate

for some action to wake his spirit up to the fine use of anything really..

Great thunder!!

Ejaculation through strangulations he heard of, never tried it though

If mama didnt pay,

He gotta find something else to hose his breath of life up..

-Oi. Little boy, dont breath on me,

Ill cover you with phlegm, snot and other gruesome stuff from my gut...

Leave me to my business, and you get on with you life,

Its time to cut the navel cord at some point...

Fine Flying Finn bowed his head in disappointment and left the house

with the door wide open.

´Hope shell get damaged in some way,

the worm, always happy to leave great remarks

and an advice with no regrets, in the back of his head wheezed

Out in town, looking at all the pretty manky girls strutting about,

nothing else to do, he wasnt really all about girls anyway,

theyre just not so fun, mainstream thinking,

nurturing only whats in front of there made up eyes,

pouting and being quite pointless

He turned his stomach upside down for a laugh before he left the town centre.

´Easy mate, piss off governor!!

All true friends stay an inch away in case misery crawled through the pores,

it could be contagious..

All the mats on the floor in his brothers neighbours flat had fleas on them apparently, since the neighbours dog was a gutter rat, always good to know,

but news like that always runs out of time before you could do

anything about it.

He eased down the road back nodding at all people thinking they where

nothing but little working ants, always staying on the ground floor,

He was above all that boringness, he was different, always knew that.

Just needed a little thing, just a pinkie fingers touch of a shot, hed show them all

Success is the best revenge

Signing posters of Fine Flying Finns excellent services

Doing nothing else but being him, pure steady, ready, go, excellence

All in full honesty, nothing else would do really...

he wouldnt mind treating people to some real honesty

Hed be like the modern world Messiah and in the next two thousands year;

Jesus would be real old news

And sacred babies would be named after him

Fine Flying Finn

Once in school he got named Fun Flu Flid, when he blew his nose in his hand and threw it on the floor in the school cafeteria and stepped in it and fell

He didnt enjoyed that name, it didnt stay for that long though,

he beat the shit out the clever guy who came up with it,

Even though it was his mates little brother Starry Scary Steve,

who moved away five years ago

cause he shat himself when he heard Fine Flying Finns voice scrawling into the café after hed beating him up again, still after ten years.

He kind of missed having an actual reason for beating someone up,

after

Starry Scary Steve left all the getting-someone-quick-and-hard business felt a bit empty.

Maybe he was turning to a Messiah after all?

He might be broadcasted worldwide speaking his honest words into peoples homes, bars and hotel rooms

Hed be so fucking wise and know all this stuff,

everyone wouldnt believe theyre ears, theyd had to open theyre mouths wide-open,

drooling and look at each other with actual question marks in theyre stupid eyes

And all the pharmacies would be happy cause the had to sell loads of cotton buds, and the cotton slaves would be rich and earn more money, cause theyre the only ones who really know how to pick cotton,

They would get their revenge

Success, Slave-success finally

After all the people had cleaned theyre ears,

they listen again and understand

And everyone would understand how to really think,

No wars

No fucking bullshit

Just cool things. His way

Yeah...

Hed be like fucking Superman, unbeatable,

he might even try to catch some diseases and get away with it

Fine Flying Finn went funny and out of his head and never returned to town.

Starry Scary Steve did though,

returned to town but just for a week only to scorn his mama for some cash.

She kept his navel cord in a box by her night table.

V.S.S Loyalty declaration

2008-08-03T05:06:00.000-07:00

Category: oh brother.. Writing and Poetry

Fuck her slap her and leave her

Tough Lord, tie her to a pole

She mirrors herself in your reflection so if you happy and walk away feeling lucky,

Its your call, vastly superior sibling

Stay or go, go go go go go go go, shes a reckless soul, dont owe her any loyalty

Fine Flying Finn wouldnt stay a stale second, if things got so bad,

You leave her to leave with that wet-eyed puppy that cant use her like you would

Wastage bastard enjoy all that lingering twisting and head tilting

Posing like a mannequin with onion rings to share with the world

Till you drop with exhaustion

Guess you done a lifes worth of characteristic love beating at least you can proudly shout and scream about your broken dream, when she stamped you out with her sharpened crook for linger-fingering..

Rude behaviour I say

Over and Out

lullabye

2008-08-03T05:05:00.002-07:00

i have been

on the run in the city that greys me

i wear grey a lot

grey is the colour that worn will damage nature the least

so finally i return

with a new recorded old song ´lullaby for puck´

recorded by Magic Cousins,

who sure is making good science in the lab of alma songs

really all is magical where he points his tuned fingers

huffing

we are puffing

not out of breath, just slightlty salty fed makrell superhero food

i rub my belly in delight

all is well

told off

2008-08-03T05:05:00.001-07:00

Category: Games

no rude words that could offend

people are sensitive

and even silly words can be missile aiming arrows right and straight in someones

secret-in-security

shit

it´s a little bit inpåossible to watch tongue and eager fingers tap tap tapping

word of advice

mell out the smell

all is well

mini blues for eyes ears and definitly mouth

2008-08-03T05:04:00.000-07:00

Category: movement of fear Pets and Animals

no no
sweetheart gone
troubless
true bless
(still) oh troubled in mess
ai ai ai
the breath is squeezed
like elves stacked on collecters shelves
eyes small and red
strange wet drops
holes in nose drip drip
so mouth goes on holiday
so long
sunset sun sat down and wept for no honey
nothing sweetee sweeter than thee
no no
brake the shelves silent tear
release the collected
no no
sweetheart gone

old news rot in thell then after thell, make sure brush those teeths clean from tha suga

2008-08-03T05:03:00.002-07:00

no
i ain=t got no cozy ghosty time to spare
all is real
when I wanna swine real bad in a money deal
noddly no
fiend
fraud
find five faults
duplicate doubles

make it into fours

direct double trouble in genital genious

that=s cozy in a ghosty flaw?

really, i wants to make mud cakes for
litttle tea party
(since mis placed hound dog on brit island, so super tarty)

lick the cream get tommy=s cramp tummy

if hell so desirably yummy
why the boy’s in love with mummy
sorry no c an do
actually,
im in love too
noddly no

aggro the laddo...

2008-08-03T05:03:00.001-07:00

Current mood: mini war mama mini war

pick on the girl who hold bike with heavy guitar on hot hot day

tired in dress on commercial street by traffic light

bazooka her with water screaming lads in fancy silver car

see what hell broke loose just start a fight

heavenly mix cranberry blueberry juice

sticky and sweet

pour into car shiny and new ooh borrowed she ho hope

angry motha fucka laugh and cry through the heat

cheer cheer the crowd shoutto hail the aggro dope

home tweet tweet

2008-08-03T05:02:00.000-07:00

i screwed up in most delightful fashion

amazingly good

but probablyu bad, cc please don-t be mad,

i do not believe dfddlove have to husrt to be felt

this is just so sinfully lustfilthy good/bad

that

kind of love

then i jumped ten meters cliff straight down the dead fall

i had my eyes open even under the green streamy water

after half hours philosophy balancing on the cliff edge with my mind companion and sister, Liv

how it is not about letting the courage come out, but just to let freaky fear go

we lept out

i fell for quite a while

i thought i would hit water before i did

Then barbiequed little prins man made sausages with Mother

and her foreign aquintence, who said i spoke broken home language because of

strange setting of word and pronaunciation...

i said

no, i do not

under my teeeth i swore at her

fuck you

but Mother said also

no

i have ndfno need to feel foreign in the woods, by the waterfall, with my family

i keep thinking about the little ninjas

every time i need perspective

instead of the old man on the moon trick

(i now see them little ninjas coming through where perspective is needed)

even just for kick

on the train i wrote about wolf alice, who looked for her missing tail

it is interesting

whose tail really?

sometimes we look for things to miss

miss so bad

it becomes the main thought of task to period in life

period

over and out

2008-06-28T14:47:00.000-07:00

i want a house like an Empire
.
with a cat of course
a large smooth but rude talking, smoking gambling cat with big black boots on, like the one in master and margerithe, but tiger stripey

then I had parties and entertain a lot
all friends are invited to my big Empire house
All fit!

siri&sixten (apt.2f 100 sutton street. n.y)

2008-06-28T14:06:00.000-07:00

Siri&Sixten, Apartment 2F 100 Sutton St.

He's on the hunt, the hunt for love
He speeds for love, love's his race
He's loves the hunt, the hunt for love
He thinks a heart is a riddled maze
He wants love, love from all
He's all for love, so for love he call

Who do I love, who do I love
Who knows the love I've been dreaming of
Who loves to love?
Who do I love
Who loves the love I've been dreaming of
Who loves the love

She takes it slow, in her own pace
She don't in love, easily fall
She knows that love, love ain't no race
Though that certain love, the love of all
(She's)seen love confused in misplace
Still for love, for love she call

Who do I love, who do I love
Who knows the love I've been dreaming of
Who loves to love?
Who do I love
Who loves the love I've been dreaming of
Who loves the love

They live so close, so close to love
Never in love, in love they'll fall
They live so close, so close to love
He's on the hunt, the hunt for love
All for love, with love for all
They both want love, so for love they call

Who do I love, who do I love
Who knows the love I've been dreaming of
Who loves to love?
Who do I love
Who loves the love I've been dreaming of
Who loves the love

2008-06-28T13:55:00.000-07:00

this beautiful picture, grassland
was sent to me from a number one

more space to the people..

tale of tails trail

2007-12-28T11:40:00.000-08:00

Mother of misfits craves a new mate
she searches the woods
A male of a man
He needs to be mean
She is the strong kind
The black widow type, all men desire
He needs to be brave

She sits with laughter and cry
not waiting

She mates cause she´s hungry
A beauty of terror
She gave birth to me,
so I sing not to be
the same
Terror of beauty
(because she can & when knows what she wants)
She takes it all

The greed of hunger
The long for a mate
an equal to say;
cannot be found so close to shame

Mother of misfits give births quite often
then abruptly departs
With a real heart so salty and smoked
been laid in snow, lost then found

Sex of six or four kids from tricks

We are the misfits
that grows under ground
You'll see us perform & entertain for a while

We sit in silence
not waiting

part II

Goldplated gestures
I dance like a clown
When I think I will see you
I dress in a gown
For your fingers touch
to easy come closer

Black widows daughter
is now turning tricks
With funny wordings & swaying hips
Tongue black from lying
I lick like a cat

Neighbour don't leave me
When to feel to belong.
I thought to tell you
If too crazy for owl
then lets not get along

Fight off hands, sticky of drugs
diluted from cravings & visions not mine
My head's a fist where my mind is anchored
Ruthless behaviour
I spit in your face

To know the bastard
that grows in dark waters
We bade in tears
cried by big bad wolf

My finger's been burnt to make me sing loud
My back's been beaten to make me stand straight
My leg's been broken to make me walk proud

We are the misfits
that grows under ground
You'll see us perform
& entertain for a while

So sit in silence
not waiting

2007-12-08T04:27:00.000-08:00

Time is a loud noice

-with tools of destruction all hidden behind
& so well kept inside

2007-11-01T14:44:00.000-07:00

Sensitive Say-my-Name fell handless down grubby stairs
cringing every limb in pain
of a hit really not that hard
Bell me the love please
Lease my the love
Bell me love
Ring no please
when Sensitive Say-my-Name cries, she don´t look pretty
not pretty at all
It´s too much of a cry
They cannot take it
Lick tears rid of face, the taste not even salty

Brothers of five
the last one has big eyes and a leaping tongue
He does not have same talent as the olders
He make friends through others names
the names He knows,
Perhaps a little
But He is good,
He is a good cook of lies
the Meal is mixed with unknown distans and stories
Good stories

Now Sensitive you-know-who bades in compliments
She cannot get clean like that
Itchy mind with burned tips of finger
softly memorised linger round same chunk of words
To make happy feeling come and stay
Move rest in chest to peace of mind
Then freeze human kind so Sensitive-Say-my-Name may live without fear of hurt

Little brother sways in the sea of confidence
with no bath ring around his arms or legs,
His mama owns a pub
He loves Christmas
Mama of brothers of five make soup for the homeless
they might get ale too
Then they are lucky homeless
What does he make
Oh, He makes
But never without showing all around
He needs pats of appreciation
To know

Ms.Sensitive shortened her name not to be offensive to the verbally dyslexic people
No trouble please
She knows
She is all trouble
She bades in it
Bubbles of trouble
She can never be clean
No help needed
Never been
Always the never
Sensitive-Say-my-Name should go to bed and wake up with a smile
She knows

Brother of five should talk less
Then his words would come out with finesse
He knows

She knows it again
Plaster of knowledge comes in funny colours
Like neon Jesus
Perfect for burned tips of fingers gathered in pray

They joined the Party of Prays
Each one on their own
One for one
All for All
None for the Lone

Grubby stairs
Big eye ball boy stares
Look at girl fall down

2007-10-31T07:37:00.000-07:00

We all gonna go there

it´s only a natural curiosity

I am not exploring death

cc found a spot for me to dwell on this matter

Crossbone Graveyard

for the outcasts to rest in peace

only found recently when building jubilee line round there

the big mountain of bones

smallest baby bones

bones from women whilst alive selling there bodies,
for manly treats
the bones from outcasts
the band
the bastards
the none believers
the top believers
you know, those ones

my silver skeletons & copper sculls.....

Anyway, sweeties for oldies, charged 10% less on tuesdays in Whitstable...something to look forward to......

halloweenytweenyparty

2007-10-31T07:22:00.000-07:00

arrived with direction home

softly trash halloween mdma bruises cuts selfinflicted by roofclimbing

new hair new life for a night

left much later with wip resting round waist & tophat from a clown

2007-10-31T07:12:00.000-07:00

Taj´s shoe in Whitestable seafront

I salute grey

grey is the best!

it harms the nature the least as a colour

& it´s not vain

sleep&the wakenings

2007-10-31T07:00:00.001-07:00

slept with candid eyes of desire

sure slow fever feeble fire

burned dream after dream

like evil child with matchbox at hand

all lite light

very much too bright

i went boooom bAng

off like a gun

just like that

and killed all fun

claw strings harder the tensions insane

hopes and heart sinks like deatchchained men

hang

from rusty anchors of neglect

or simply reject

close those eyelids real thight for the love potion he drops every night

blink away

the blur

molded under his palm i lure

everyone knows of my ship left in shallow water

keep sleep keen

be as nice as you can be

of that i´m sure

i´m not sure..drop the anchor of reject (no regret) & heart set sail for new adventures of that i´m sure

...sure

lullaby bye

bye

the tissuies of wishes

2007-10-31T06:35:00.000-07:00

i have lazy hopes that fingers of steel will continue to play and make forms, forever all i wanna do, yeah that´s all, i do not want to pay bills or speak to people about my phonebill or tell people what they should buy to make happiness
might get married to some kinda sponsor an old professor who believes in my head cause it´s so full of secrets and sometimes get so so empty it can take in more of the other worlds for a greater understanding or for the making of rubbish torouettes tickling words on my tongue
like south park episode when cartman discovers the wonders of speaking freely to let your tongue spit out the words the brain hovers over like some kinda hackney gettobird to watch over the mess and make sure it wont slip out....
but the brilliance of the body working and making, slipping fingers making tunes carving shapes is like an inital fingery tourettes, an outlet,but with time to ponder, it springs from outlet to project, which leaves an ohhhh-feeling, re-life re-live re-think
the body tissuie makes incrediable wishes for to do only so..