The cossack year of the Mountain Goat…Welcome to the Now, 2016
I slip and slide on my garden lair pew, pondering what I seek, what I value, what I need to nourish and inspire. And my old chum Blueprint, emerges from the shadows, calmly broaching the value of dreaming big. Which feels a sturdy starting point, for my intended maelstrom of a manifesto…DREAM BIG. I remember finding Blueprint in a Brighton nightclub, after a show with Slug, I had a poem written on crumpled paper to give him, or slug, whoever I could find. So stoned and messy on cognac when I collided and spoke with Slug, I forgot, so sought Blueprint after the show…Found him surrounded by a posse of squealing wannabe hippety hop girls, yet waved my paper in the air, and he saw me, shook my offered hand and took my poetry, with a thank you.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJItd-o8a64
“acting like the world’s a stage and there are tickets for sale”….finely put, given the spastic tendencies of the masses. Who strive to meet the models put to them by a mass media machine which is rooted in a death and control cult broadcast behind the images of the Kardashians which find your screens and my screams…
I am nourished and aligned in a roundabout way to Nietzsche. For the richest wine that can be drunk, the most invigorating and formative elation of mind, heart, spirit and soul we can find, is found through facing off against adversity. And seeing and feeling how we fare…I do not seek trauma, shaky nerves, shyness, yet I have been long aware that to approach such scenes with zeal and interest, bring my joy and satisfaction. Nothing is learned or acquired without struggle and hardship. Of that, I have no doubt.
Yes yes! Let us chase true romance…as I still will, though the cynicism abounding from a life spent doing so, and the agony it has caused to my haggard shell of a man who once was, leads me to encourage the same of others, yet also advise pointlessly, to take care of YOURSELF. I say pointlessly, for those prone towards and with the capacity to give their EVERYTHING are likely to become as mangled and tangled in hope and pain and remorse and echoes of true bliss, as myself. ANd why not eh! For what life is worth leading other than one of honesty and bravery and total transparency. Better a life led truthful than one riddled with fakery…
There is a time to love, to give yourself wholly to the bliss you can find not just between the thighs of, but in the arms of, a wonderful woman, connecting, combining, colluding, to such a degree, that you cannot tell where you end and She begins…entanglement of more than flesh, of the soul and the heart…chase any hint of such a thing. Other than which, fight the good fight, against the mong masses, against the selfish, against the fiend hordes, against the superficial, against the FAKERY MERCHANTS…indeed, it can and will cause you bother, but remember Nietzsche, for…such experiences will be nourishment to the growth of your soul, if not your mind…Through adversity we find our true colours, so why hide in the shadows when,,,,adversity strikes???
In absence of doting devotion, chased and hopefully received, what more is there to seek…other than Adversity? We need to stop this bullshit routine of shying away from confrontation, when our hearts are involved and ablaze. Share the fire. let the flames burn whoever comes close. And if they cannot bear the heat, leave them be thereafter, as pilchards meant to swim amongst solely the crowd, yet I am not interested in safety in numbers, when that safety is the very opposite, the very enemy, of all I hold dear and near and clear…
Nobody knows me. Not even my self. I need to write my way into this world. For I have remained for too many moons…apart from the tribe which numbers me in shape and biological delineation. Fighting fang and claw, against the global march towards total authoritarian rule and control, yet creating solely sparks in the bed pan, which dazzle, all too briefly, then sizzle into the ether, into nothingness. Some have a cause, even fewer have a voice loud enough to conjure momentum into that cause. I am of the latter reckoning…yet failing, miserably, causing storms in tea-cups when I should be lighting fires in hearts and souls.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQ9FWV1ZdKE
I talk to strangers and I look at strangers, in the eye, where it counts, and I find ants with the outline of humanity, I find affectation abounding and applauded, I find muscular spastics with wench mutton dressed as lamb adjusting each other’s sun-glasses as they wade, very carefully, into the shallows of the ocean, which, as I dive into the waves, disentangle with a squeal of the wilderness from a length of seaweed, I ponder they do not appreciate, but deduce, as something far removed from my instinctive awareness of and devotion to, the wild and wonderfully natural expression of Mother Nature…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXzK0AFpmcI
From where do you find and measure your sense of value? Of how valuable a creature you are, to both yourself and the world in which you exist?
to be able to be so raw, freestyle, and make sense of depth and play and pain and agony and love, is something very precious indeed. Eyedea was a twisted genius who left the wakeful realm too early. Yet remains ever more potent, his spirit inspiring my own, to different ends…He spoke a lot of Truth and never felt or seemed in any other sensation from afar, anything but totally naked of the masks worn by the vast majority of people.
I’m a child that believes in magic.
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