This space intentionally left blank

The poem is a form and a shape
_____it minces _____ and mances
all
_____over
_________the
______________place

Is it made of mere lines,
a prosey rose of poesy?
Containing petalled rhymes
________so predictable
that your heart feels cozy?

____no!
___it
__is
____astonishingly
_exclamatory!
__________I bet that the human gaze
__loves to
_______waddle in____my___spaced out

______glory
___!

Why are these
words
?
__________over here?
___But
______not
___here
______or
________...
____....

_______uh oh

_____________...

_________...


fiddlesticks______my words fell off

... It was too energetic and now they're all lost
Perhaps the visual excitement was too much to take
And now my affogato poem is just a baked prose cake

_________tasty...
____!

Scripted.

[White letters fade into view over a pitch black landscape]

The Dawn Mammoth presents...

Directed by that guy who did Memento. That was a cool movie.

Produced by a bunch of people with more money than cents. Aha.

... Inspired by true events. ...

[Cut to an overhead shot of me]
[Zoom and track at the same time to do the freaky effect into my head]
[Amazing special effects as the camera enters into my mind]

[Shot of a monkey running on a treadmill]

The monkey takes a cigarette out of his mouth
[Voiced by Sir Anthony Hopkins]Monkey: I really do protest at smoking these ghastly things

[Voice from off camera - Nicholas Cage]Voice: Well. you see. With the whole thing including those ghastly things that you are, in fact, smoking right now, then we are, as it happens, going full circle, right now and again, aren't we?
[Cut to closeup of monkey's face, he is beginning to sweat]
Monkey: You are also ghastly.
[Cut to voice - it is a scientist in a long white coat]
Scientist: I know. Smiles like Nicholas Cage. It's what they pay me for.
[Cut to lab door opening, Jessica Biel walks in as the lab assistant. She is holding a vial containing a glowing red chemical]
Assistant: Here is that dangerous chemical that you wanted that would be hugely disastrous for humanity if the monkey got ahold of it.
[Cut to ECU of monkeys pupils dilating]
[Cut to long shot of Scientist and Assistant]
Scientist: Thank you, assistant. And might I say, you look nothing like any female assistant I have ever had. It's not even that feasible.
Assistant: I will take that as a compliment.
Scientist: Shut up. You are talking too much. Just stand there and be quiet.
[Cut to midshot of assistant]
Scientist: Good. Now, I also wanted to say that from some angles, your face looks weird. I just wanted to let you know that.
[Sound of the treadmill slowing]
[Cut to Scientist]
Scientist turns to treadmill.
[Cut to treadmill... there is no monkey on it.]
[Scientist is now Morgan Freeman. ... Continuity knows what it can go do to itself, so I don't need to tell it.] Scientist: My god...
[Cut to Assistants hands, they are empty]Scientist: Where is the vial?[The light's flicker, then explode.]
[Screen goes to black]
Scientist: You have doomed us all!
[Sounds of monkey screeching and screams from the humans. Then the humans go silent]
...
[White titles come onto the screen...] ... The Vial ... [the words fade]

Then there's the establishment of some young hot characters and they go on an adventure and stuff happens.
We will pick it up around an hour and a half through the film...

Young male hottie [One of them ones with silly fringes]: We have failed in our task to stop the monkey.
Young female hottie [But not so hot that she can't act. Yeah. You know who you are.]: At least we have the memories of that night we spent together in slow motion with the orange filter on the camera so we looked really tanned.
Young male hottie: Yea... about that night... there's something I have to tell you.
Young female hottie: What is it?
[Cut to close-up of young male hottie]
Young male hottie: I've been infected with the vial.
[Cut to closeup of young female hottie]
Young female hottie: Nooooooooooo!
[Cut back to long shot]
Young male hottie: All that is left now is to name the disease...
Young female hottie: How about...
Young male hottie interrupts.
Young male hottie: Shut up. You have done far too much talking. I shall call it...
[Zoom in on young male hottie]
Young male hottie: ...AIDS.

Fade to black....

Roll credits.

Receive OSCARs.

Outstanding in the rain

The music stopped when I got the text on my phone
And then there came a knock at the door
As the thunder gutter-balled noise over my home
The coincidence was too much to ignore

The lights flick flicked like a cricket guitar-pick
Then wind troubled curtains like Jesus troubled the sinned
With the smell of fried bacon... Which was misguided and mistaken
Just as static pins of electricity tweaked my erratic skin

When I flapped my wings, it was just the one time.

I swear.

Pantoum-ine

Arising from the sea came a huge horde of zombies
The invasion began, taking on Covesea flats
Inside the building, they dressed in Fitch and Abercrombie
Demmy led the charge to turn zombies into splats

The invasion began taking on Covesea flats
On the lobby floor was where the battle waged
Demmy led the charge to turn zombies into splats
But they were no match for the relentless rampage

On the lobby floor was where the battle waged
The undead fought hard against broken tables and kegs
But they were no match for the relentless rampage
The waves of zombies were cut down by tablelegs

The undead fought hard against broken tables and kegs
Demmy shouted her rallying cry, "Into the shadows!"
The waves of zombies were cut down by tablelegs
They shaked and shuddered and walked to the windows

Demmy shouted her rallying cry into the shadows,
Inside the building, they dressed in Fitch and Abercrombie
They shaked and shuddered and walked to the windows...
Arising from the sea came a huge horde of zombies

The Silt Grain Trio

Deep deep down in the very depths of the sea
Is a squat pile of rock silt, that moves in groups of three
Some very brainy grain detaches with two friends
And wanders over hills, going ‘round bends
They pip and they holler and make shocking noise
These little silt grains pound their loudest toys
They bash and bang and they clash and clang
With their jingling jammers and their trumpeting tang
Up and down the sea-streets where the gubberfish live
The ‘silt grain trio’ got up to mischief

‘We’re bored!’ cried One.
‘We’re hungry!’ cried Two.
So One made some fun,
And Two stole some food.
‘Come back with my pie,’ grumpy Flub Gubberfish yelled.
‘Stop nicking my pastries with your tangs and your bells!’
The silty boys scarpered like salt in sea breeze
All the way to their hideout in the continental-drift-trees

‘Have some of my pie!’
‘I don’t mind if I do!’
One widened his eyes
At a big slice from Two
Three gave a sad sigh.
‘Hey Three! What’s wrong with you?’
‘It doesn’t excite me at all, my tang is quite bangless,
I don’t like shaking my jammer or robbing the fangless
Both of you silts, One and Two, are crude and rude
And when you sit down to eat, you don’t chew your food.’

‘We can change our ways and be nice to the fishes.’
‘We could bake them some muffins and wash their dishes.’
One and Two each had such a good look on their face,
Three couldn’t keep up with their change of pace
The silt-gang hideout became a ‘help the elderly’ base
Where they organised the bimonthly Gubberfish race

One, ‘What a change of heart!’
Two, ‘We are the real winners,’
‘When we die and depart,
We can ditch the sinners.’
‘Three is quite right, this is our heavenly ticket.’
‘When we kick the bucket, St. Peter can stick it.’
‘Our free pass past the angelic gates.’
‘Good deeds mean we sweeten our fates!’
‘Then with great celestial howls as we jingle our jammers,’
‘And with Jesusy bellows when we crash with our hammers,’
‘We’ll make lots of racket and wake demons in hell...’
‘Running all through the streets and banging our bells.’

Animal Antics? You'd think so, but you'd be wrong.

There is something whimsical in the way in which humans percieve animals.
There is an instant instinct [an instanct] to anthropomorphise every creature.
From researching cartoons, this involves:

1) All animals must use hind legs for balance and all other limbs as arms. (Unexplainable exception: Elephants.)

2) All animals must wear some form of clothing. Pants are usually not necessary. The bounds of a logical mind cannot accept jeans that fit a duck. (Again, elephants not included in this rule)

3) All animals must have some incredible superpower that is perfectly acceptable because they are animals. (Pretty sure elephants would flaunt this rule as if it were a bag of peanuts poking precociously from an unwary jacket pocket). But importantly, is completely made up.

Chameleons don't change colour to blend in with their surroundings.
That is quite disappointing news.

Ostriches have never stuck their heads in sand to avoid danger.
Never.
Not even one ostrich has done it once.

Opossums don't hang off branches using their tails.

To summarise, animals are far less interesting than anyone wants to believe.
To put this summary another way, people make animals far more entertaining than they actually are.

Apart from Barbar. That elephant conforms to my hyptothesises in ways that make me feel uncomfortable. That is a weird green suit, Mr. Barbar.

Also, on an unrelated note, taking light-shades off every bulb in a room makes you feel naked. Through some strange visual perception transpatial over-identification, I believe.

Finally, on a positive note, touching a baby bird won't cover it in some strange cursed human scent that forces it to be rejected by its mother.

Balloon.

Want to see a balloon flying away in the wind.

Would you like to see it now? I will draw it right now, right here:

Q

It's flying away to somewhere up and left. Australia maybe. Singapore? Germany, perhaps.

Mein Balloon fliegt nach Deutschland. Aber ist nicht neunundneunzig.

After it flies past the northern hemisphere, it will continue up and left, and go past the moon.

It will look like this:


__O <Moon [Not to scale]
____Q <Balloon [Extremely to scale]

Then it will fly away past the moon and into the stars.

And it will look like this:

____.____._
___._______..________
_______.________._____.
___________Q_______

The best exam ever.

How are you?

It's a nice question, the how are you. It allows for great scope and breadth in its answer. This means that the answer is often only one word.

If someone wrote down "how are you" as the only question in an exam, then there would be a riot of students storming the buildings like it was a windmill in Frankenstein.

I think I would give up a kidney to read the answers that students submitted.

What I would submit:

EXAM:
Question One (Worth 100%... ahahahahahaaa!): How are you?

Did you know that recent estimates put the number of galaxies in the universe at around two hundred billion?

I can't even begin to fathom how large one galaxy is. (I can't even fathom it in fathoms.)

The fact is, I can't even comprehend the size of the solar system that we are in.

And when it comes down to it, I am entirely unable to wrap my mind around how fast a Boeing 747 can fly.

That plane can travel at over one thousand kilometres per hour.

To reach the edge of our solar system, I would have to fly that plane for well over three million years.

When I got to the edge of the solar system, our sun wouldn't even be the brightest star visible.

It would be lost in a mess of three hundred billion stars that shine in our galaxy.

Then to go on ( I am glad I brought a picnic), to travel to the edge of the galaxy in my plane, that would take a certain number of years.

It would take an even bigger number of seconds.

I can make this number is an insignificant number. I can make this number the smallest, most irrelevant number, there is.

By comparing it to the probability of my life existing.

So let me tell you how I am.

I am fantastic.

How are you?

A verse.

I just ate a unicorn.

Apparently, I didn't.

My brother just told me,

That I can't say "unicorn"

When I mean "One kernel of corn".

I think he's right.

"And, even if you didn't have a brother,

You wouldn't be a unison," says he.

That too? Damn.

"And you know King Ted?"

"Of course I know King Ted," I reply...

..."He has his own kingdom. Obviously."

He nods wisely.

I say, "And there is only one of him." (Triumph).

Says he, "There isn't any of him." (Less triumph).

My brother continues, "I can show you on this atlas.

"It is a regional mass comprised of

England,

Scotland,

Nothern Ireland

and Wales."

"It says right there," says I, "A Ted Kingdom."

He shakes his head.

I begin to extrapolate my growing understanding of language and think.

"And the adorable picture I have as my desktop background..." says I, defeatedly.

... "That was taken last year at the north pole?"

"Those two animals can, under no circumstances," says he, "Be called bipolar bears."

Nuts.

The list that sneaks down below you.

The new Google thing.

What I like to call, 'predictive search'. Where it comes up with the most common things that people have typed into Google.
I find it absolutely entracing that it has been implemented. I get the strangest feeling that in those lists are the answers to all of human psychology and all I need to do is type in the right words.

Speaking of the right words, the words that we most struggle with as humanity and need a handy internet to define:
1) Culture
2) Ethics
3) Globilization
Impressive, in my opinion. Really open questions that can give broad, overarching answers involving philosophy, politics and actually are probably just a massive bunch of schoolkids looking to copy and paste some homework answers.

"Deine", which for those who don't know German, is the possesive pronoun, "Your".
Hilariously:
2) mutter.
Which, for those who don't know German [And have never talked to a teenager nor have a sense of logic], means "mother".

"what is":
3) What is Twitter?
A fair question.
Twitter is this: Texting in reverse. You can choose who to get messages from but not who your messages go to. It makes sense because of entropy.
4) What is love?
Awh. Isn't humanity so sweet. Even though Twitter is slightly more important.

"An elephant is":
3) Bigger than the moon.
4) Soft and mushy.
Google is either a liar. Or a hilarious prankster. Or mentally insane.
I think Google is mentally insane. If I had Three trillion websites inside my head, I'd be insane too.

"How many":
1) How many weeks pregnant am I?
Aha.

"Google is"
2) Your friend.
Awh.

If I knew the internet was going to be this nice to me, I would have typed my inane thoughts into it years ago.

Boo.

Death and life.

Given the choice of living forever or dying, I am undecided.

I mean, it'd would be great seeing how the world turns out.
See how far we get with technology. Whether we could fit a laptop inside an ipod and fit an ipod inside our head and fit our head inside the nearest empty receptacle.

Then the earth would explode. I assume at some point it's going to explode.
Scenario: The last person on Earth, has a devastatingly powerful new technology bomb (that can fit inside a cowboy hat).
Does she press the button to blow the world up?

But on the downside of living for the rest of existence (there must be one, popular culture has explained to me the pains of living forever), once the world gets old and blows up thanks to Miss OK Coral and her button-pressing ways, there isn't much to do except drift around space.

But then again, what I'm gonna do when I die is drift around space as a soul and zoom about to see all of the star clusters and nebulae and all those pretty space things anyway.

So in conclusion, death and life.


{ o o }
_._J

Is what an elephant would look like if he dressed up as a ghost on halloween.

A conversation with beer.

"What's the time?" I ask.
"It is Me O'Clock," Beer replies.
I say, "Hey. You are brown."
And Beer says, "I am Cyan. Try my caramelly and toasted hop flavour"
So I chuckle, and say firmly, "No, you are brown. Nothing nice is brown."
"What about chocolate?" Beer raises a petite eyebrow.
"Okay, chocolate is brown and nice but nothing else that's nice is brown."
"What about peanut butter?"
"Orange," I reply cannily.
"As if! Peanut butter is on our team, man," Beer makes an obscure gang sign at me. "We are all part of the same family."
"Well then," I say as I inspect a convinient spectrum. "How far does 'brown' extend?"
"All the way up to beige in that direction," Beer points it to me, "and down all the way to bermuda."
"I don't even know what bermuda is."
"That's why it's part of the browns," Beer nods sagely. "We are mysterious and arcane."
"Would you say you were antique?"
"I would say we are antic," Beer puns casually.
"Say you got every food in the world and put it into a blender."
"I won't say it," Beer explains, "Because my alcohol to body weight ratio is extraordinary and I'm surprised I can even open my mouth."
"It is a hypothetical exercise to prove a point," I persevere.
"Okay."
"Would it taste good?"
Beer considers this, "No. But I would try it."
"What colour would it be?"
"Brown!" Beer says excitedly. Then Beer makes the connection and frowns. "Oh."

And then things get a bit rowdy and one of us ends up punching the other. You know how things get when alcohol is involved.

Did You Ever.

Did you ever eat soup with your teeth closed
So you could pretend to be a blue whale?
Twice in my life I tried and did fail
When gazpacho spurted out of my nosed.

My friend laughed at me, "It's like a blowhole!"
She proclaimed herself as 'Captain Ahab'
And left me to pay the whole bar tab
She has now become my greatest foehole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A friend in need is a friend indeed: A convincingly argued essay in ten parts.

Cliches serve as an important tool for many reasons.

Firstly, they are amusing.
Take, if you will, my example of skinning a cat.
Apparently there is more than one way to skin a cat.
Catskin could be used to make clothes.
And clothes make the man.
I'm a man made out of catskin. Apparently. Who wants to skin cats? Leave the cats alone. They might join up with a gang of dogs and start raining on us.

Different strokes for different folks.
Too true, my cliched friend.
Secondly, cliches are sexual.
Sexual like a fox.
As sexual as a wham-bam thank-you Ma'm. I just bent her all out of shape then knocked her socks off.
Slippery when wet.

Thirdly, cliches and myself see eye to eye on many aspects of life.
We both love seeing the pool of language being diddled with.
We both know that one can never cease all diddling of language, [I use 'one', because as we both know I am a gentleman and a scholar.]
One can only diddle with language properly if he joins all of the other diddlers in the deep end.

Fourthly, in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.
For the first few minutes, anyway.
Then he would be a dead king.
Who the hell would believe someone if they said they could see when noone else could?
Look what they did to Jesus.
People. You can always trust people to be people.
Therefore fourthly, cliches are the best way to describe people. Because people = cliches.
Which came first, the person, or the cliche?

Fifthly, cliches are philosophical.
Philosophical like a fox.
Ever found yourself in a hole?
Hmmm. That cliche there needs some serious punctuation.
Because I don't know if I've ever found 'myself in a hole'.
Neither have I 'found myself', in a hole.
Or been walking along and suddenly stumbled across myself in a hole. Possibly a future version of me that has come back in time to warn me about falling into holes.
Ever found a hole in yourself? Metaphorically, I mean. What's gross for the goose is also gross for the gander. I shall have no smut in my fifthly argued point.
Sixthly, cliches are reversible if deep metaphorical ponderings are needed to be done.

You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.
But you catch even more flies with shite.
The only thing more useless than shite? Fly-covered shite.
Seventhly, cliches are shite. Heh. Shite.

Eighthly, using cliches is like reinventing the wheel.

You know what really gets my goat?
When I get bats in the bellfry.
Ninthly, cliches make no sense at all.

Tenthly, cliches are unbearable.
Almost as unbearable as puns. Ever seen a bear wearing clothes that it has superglued to itself? It's an un-bare-able animal.

The light at the end of the tunnel: It seems the cat has got my tongue. It's bitten off more than it can chew. I am now beating a hasty retreat to the land of nod, in order to get forty winks.
If only I had some cat's pyjamas to wear.

And now the mice can play.

Fascination

Vacuum has an unusual amount of 'u's, but not as many as 'unusual'.

Speaking of vacuums, hands up if you love the vacuum display where it thrusts a ball into the air, held perpetually like a drop of spittle on a saliva string when my dog spies a meatloaf.

The vacuum set to 'blow' holding up the ball is amazing. I could stare at it for a long time. I think that I would be part of a crowd.

And yet the letter j remains one of the most underrated letters in the alphabet.

Blood.

I just killed a mosquito.

I slapped it with my hands. This mosquito had bitten more than thrice. But it had bitten someone else... I am fine.

Now there is a surprising amount of someone else's blood on my hands.
An astonishing amount.

If you are reading this and are feeling a bit faint... like you are suddenly missing a lot of blood... then yeah... you probably are a hypochondriac.

I have been told that only female mosquitos bite people. This is a fact that I believe simply because someone has put in enough effort to open their mouths and flaunt their vocal chords at me.
I imagine that this is how the "oral traditions" in those far-away cultures get handed down from generation to generation.

On a side note, I might have aids now.
Or malaria.
Or vampirism. Which, of the three options, would be by far the worst to get. I am sensing a counter-culture approaching by the tingling in my halteres. Ever wonder why Van Helsing hated vampires so much? He saw way too many on television.

... That was a fat mosquito. No wonder it couldn't dodge my flying hands of fury.

Haiku School.

Some philosophy:
Imagine if all we did,
Was sit here, and think.

Some psychology:
How would you feel if all you
Did was sit and think?

And some history:
There was some stuff before us,
It may reoccur.

Now for some english:
There are a bunch of things to do,
When you have choice words.

Finally some math:
Would be written here if I
remembered any.

A Good Day For A Bird

=

[Bird's eye view of two worms having a competition to see who can be the flattest]