Bubblegum soda pop Doctrine Moon My own private personal shit Parental Advisory Explicit Content

A Machine Sings

The time it takes for a museum

To close down and reinvent itself To opening

The lime I wanted to be mine as you wanted to be wrong it’s not a poem, this is not a song

Ready touch and stay

Is that our atmosphere get me to the new

Churches The llamas say they saw me by the Han-Kon-wat Monastry

Playing with the skulls

Playing your song

I had to tell them you were gone

I had to tell them we were robbed

We were robbed

Weren’t we?

Bach Bubblegum soda pop Excerpts from whatever Lyrics Parental Advisory Explicit Content Poem Poetry

Negro Bitch Spirituality

i see no point of telling about myself as it may take focus from the work part I need to get done before I leave life for New York and the East Coast
forensic night shifts i undergo online.

Forget mortality and marriage all that starts with an M ends badly
Morbid Forest with a clearing is the opening act of the first scene.
Calligula Enters in a gound looking naked
Epsilon says his mantra
And the crowd gets disoriented
River Zeal b. feb. 5, 1992 / d. jan 22. 2047
so help
please help i am asking because
you’re not asking
blow the candles out let the night begin
and help me
cause first of all I hate it
More than asking for help I resent the act if receiving it
It makes me wanna put a bullet in this microphone and blow my head off before anyone couls say Black Gold Texas Tea
i wish you knew i wish you knew i wish
i knew how you could help anyone


let me take the road alone it’s me they’re after and hunting it’s me they’re hungry for
im not afraid to lose my mind
im afraid to lose an arm
im afraid to feel bored all the time
im afraid the rest of the world makes me an astronaut
if i can call you when im done it won’t be long if i’m lucky it will feel negro and bitch
from where i’m from thats called
if you have the time
to help me, i decline okay smile and wave bye bye

The Kevorkian way
is the medicine
fot what was to be my flesh and name
once in time through poles shiftting as voids grows thick and licking
My sout paws
Where they fell to the floor
I hate you I hate this game im done and I won’t ever trust nothing or no one anymore
(the sound of something veing poured into something made of crystal, the scene is intense, almost natural when it follows)

please give me away
please give me away
to one of my enemies today
its not shameless to not feel ashamed
asthtray marks please give me away
tryin to bear your blame every day
please give me away
help yourself
Stupid misfit
Echoes og my bad guilt
help me regret (oh oh)
or i will make you dissapeat, forget and promise me, do not ever ask me again
for a fucking “game of logic” horseshit
leave me alone some men play chess
others make music and the women never plays and wins anyway no means yes
Bad guilt and great distances of helium and stress
Helium and stress
Good night Alberta

Bubblegum soda pop

Roadland Ends

He that once drove a wheelchair climbed Everest

At least he died there

The point is,

You can reach your goals

Thats why they are there.

The folks in uncertainty suits

To have your troops prepared for battle

But it’s not a battle it’s a road laid out by your goals

What you want to want in your heart of hearts

It strengthens your soldiers

People die all the time

And for tradition in a poe let’s welcome the ever loveable poem

By Robert Frost, I know you don’t know it

But it’s Darwinism that takes a foothold, if you lose your way

You see what Frost doesn’t speak of are holes

They’re everywhere. BIG ONES, small one’s, there’s one under my toes

And the larger the width of a circle gravity follows

Makes it harder for some people, well most

To get up

To get out

Tongake a deep breath


Roadland and all radios

Ends here, leave them t rex moves

Get up so high

Just like Jagger, or Hammersmith

The secret simply put like this

Continue your Road Less Travelled

Whatever, whatever happens

Courage Courage Courage

Over the raindrops

If that’s where your goals are

Even through the nectar

Beyond The Great Divide, The Valley of the Sorrows

The Forest of Regret, Atonement and Schemes as

Self possession, self esteem self defense

Courage Courage Courage

All things appear as all propellers

Constant change in location and fast colored like your eyes a deep ale

In a bar somewhere

When the invented virus

The infection of the vaccines

Takes place and that’s alcohol abstinence

Right here

Where you are now and I wrote once

Before I got the hell outta there.

I’m like a propelled driven steam boat

Takes too long a time to turn or stop

So ai’m gonna reach my goals as I pick up new ones

Are you?

So Are you?

If you enjoy lyrics more like this, pay us a visit \\ z o o b o x my band play m u s i c

I’m written into what I am to the smallest extent I can possibly attempt. So Are You?

5 AM Bubblegum soda pop Lyrics midnight My own private personal shit Parental Advisory Explicit Content Poem Poetry Slightly spiritual You Don't Know Jack Zoo Box

What’s Your Name?

What’s Your Name?

What’s your name?

Bondage, Flame

What’s your first color of choice


Who’s in command onboard?

The train conductor

What’s 10 – 10


What’s your name

What’s Your name

Bondage, Flame

What’s your height and weight

5’11 to 19 pounds

How to stay awake?

To rip, reap and reign

What’s your favorite movie?


Who wears his black coat?

The marquis de carabas

What’s your name?

What’s your name

Bondage, Flame

Who said “We shall fight on the beaches”?

Sir Winston Churchill

Where did lost end

Where it began

What’s your name?

What’s your name?

Bondage, Flame

Bondage, Flame

Bach box Lyrics midnight Moon My own private personal shit Parental Advisory Explicit Content Poem Poetry Slightly spiritual Stay Brave UK Wild Stories, Spoken Words, fiction, Poetry, You Don't Know Jack Zoo Box

Neon Star

Super power
Ultra Jupiter sized Creature
Look me in my third eye and tell my fortune and my future
Hey, mega larger than life in size
Do you miss my style?
Do you miss my family, do you wish i died?
Ladybug and gentlefolk and ghosts of Christmas Past and Could-have-been a hero
It’s calling on you with big numbers after zero Zero
Never ending chaos Never ending lies, attempt to pry me open but I Can’t tell the truth when I was born a lie

Super power
Corny, or more like a baby shower?
Anyway, have you ever seen
Somebody feeling a scream from somebody else
That might not to you or me be real
We might never even see
More than Alice and her bad trips
Eating <> Enough
To they try to chop off her head
All perfect memories in my head
I stayed too long
In a London Hotel
I’m still lingering around waiting for an answer to a question I once asked my listeners
Are you alive?
Are you
Who’s that boy?
I am those two
She said to me he saw three pieces
Even suitable for teenagers as other victims used To try to sing
Let me In
I Have A Dream
We Shall Never Surrender
Chorus and the Ring, Waterloo Napoleon did surrender
I have been here since the first neon star was cast young and glowing in the mirror-
Of Ourselves
Our Milky Way
Tell us, my dear old Tellus
Who’s the meaning of life and where is she Located is she lonesome does she have cookies?

Soon thirty years on the same surface makes all of Us here south go africa crazy
And when Africa goes lunatically mad
heaven will burn up or down depending on Me like everything else, yes I’m fallen, yes I’m trespassing and I ignore it

And by God, I will stay until the last neon star from the skies will fall I am Caligula
I will be the one who stays here last
Stays so still extreme
Again all people dancing to my beat
Are you alive
Is this moment a moment you chose to be alive?
Who’s that girl?
I am those two
Three four
Hundered thousand million
Prayers lost in cyberspaces, network encryptions, mouth inflation oh
The whatever happened penetration

Oh the voices strong as horses we will drown by our emotional distortion never knowing why the moon is glowing or the sun shining the stars sparkle or your eyes water
what we have
Is what we need
Is what we know
it’s who we are
what I write
what you read (so?)

It used to be something we got in lotion
Chaos pinched me into higher chambers Now even tomatoes are prescription only Somebody I know from Flint, Michigan says hello and says they’re so so sorry but hey angry mob Do not worry it’s the big picturesque picture that ch
Hey ghost of Christmas now
All tribes all allowed bowed in awe and hesitated Denial
Let money fall to the ground in flakes and icy cold. Accurately a substitute for snow.

“What’s snow?” will somebody one day ask out loud.
“A slang for cocaine, give me your hand we’re cute being each other’s angels aren’t we?”

Do you know his daughter or dont you
F so z z c.
D. R. P. open G in minor key

No no follow me, Miss Lewinsky
You shine like a neon star so bright it hurs and follows my eyes wherever I go it burns in brass And indigo the neon star, the neon part
Just like the flapping off wings
When or even if the rapture springs
Im gonna come and rescue you
You yeah that’s right and I promise this time I’ll try to be on time, hey gorillas This is a fine wine, hey waiter!

Later after the washing of plates But you declined by pointing to the moon and Saying something in the likes of Hey dude, that looks like you, so uncool

So get a grip
And let her rip
Let her dip the sun in my vein
In a honey sip in a lemonade drink

So get a grip, get a handful of tits and stuff them with grit and bacon and fish

So Tune the Moon in your solitude
Im here from the light and to the rescue
Or to seduce the sedated
I can almost remember What I had for dinner I’m a sinner in love with a saint but she’s a loser I’m the winner, hey swampy you’re the big fat Moon so tune it yourself and I ran, I ran so far Away

Last easter with the brilliance of my own Ignorance

Am I talking about full still a dull moon on Thanksgiving with old aging attempts of being so grateful to have so much anger

She didn’t like anyone or anything five seconds in

Sad thing, like the rest of it I can’t find love I can’t find my vein, or shit

Do you know why you are?
Get a grip and let her rip

Get a grip and step in grit, pretend it’s the velvetine rabbit

Or was it Little Women you used to ask me to read To you so you’d sleep The worst part of it?

I did, I let you have it
I never knew
You missed me saying

I hate television on TV
Cut to commercial
I rate reviews raw and rigidly

Do you know where to hide?
When they circle you out cause oh goodbye


Oh haha come back

I forgot to give you this piece of cake and a rubberband soldier

Do you know anything
About anything to know about around? You have it on you now, of course you have

Of course you spiritual bitch, get a grip

Just like the flapping of wings
When or even if the rapture springs
The neon star drips in
all the cats and kids join in
Im gonna come
Im gonna come
are you alive
Are you high, if you say no I’ll kill you with the book I bought after we broke up The Catcher In The Rye
Are you gonna try, what do you mean
Im gonna come and rescue you again That’s too bad I’ll be gone next weekend
Here He comes doing his part nine

In the act of writing well In the same old sanity’s requiem

No (not yet)
Never ever again
In fact I hope you die That was my mom on the phone crying about Lady Di
No but I wish death to Heroin and everyone selling
I wish death to your girlfriend
Her name
Her Majesty
The Hierophant

Everybody’s gay if I want them to everybody reacts differently to karaoke than I do am I the only specimen thinking, fantasizing dirty details In regards to the bowling

What happened at Columbine is now law of the Land

What happened in Roswell, was so inspiring it led to the genius of an act titled – Don’t ask I’ll rape and shoot you if you tell.

underweight kids drin

The wind holds the answer and I read and

Started laughing

You mifht catch it

If you chose to stay alive

So Tune the Moon in your solitude
Im here from the light but you can’t see me well
Because love conquers hate
Always and I’m under Nina’s spell
Always and Forever
always and Never
always Eternally Eternity Celebration among Other things not so legal but hey pop stars, Skylarks and 40 year old virgins stop and rest Breathe a bit, I’m afraid I’m gonna burn out soon, don’t leave me yet

The neon star died at Samsara Hospital in Quebec

Under the President’s plummy belt lies his button To Switch from Buy to Sell and back again I got his number, he does drugs as well, but you didn’t hear that from me ok?


Under your Neon star

I fly so high you couldnt catch me if you’d try

Goodbye ugly girls and stupid boys starry eyed but Nada inside

Goodbye, Goodbye

(Bye, little prick, Want my balls to lick, look for me beneath the grit in your driveway, quarantined continued)

Bach Doctrine Lyrics Moon Pilgrims Poem Poetry Slightly spiritual

Me Against The Mercy

this monologue is partly pinned down, partly developing as time ticks. You’re not gonna get the whole thing on words because this is acting.

Doctrine Excerpts from whatever My own private personal shit Short Story Slightly Political You Don't Know Jack


Delaware City
New Castle
19720 19721 19726
19702 19711 19712 19713 19714 19715 19716 19717 19718 19725
Port Penn
Saint Georges
19801 19802 19803 19804 19805 19806 19807 19808 19809 19810 19850 19880 19884 19885 19886 19890 19891 19892 19893 19894 19895 19896 19897 19898 19899
At Excerpts from whatever Parental Advisory Explicit Content Slightly spiritual Zoo Box


For a long, unusually long, time, even for Dr. Eko didn’t respond. Neither with giving her any eye contact (the good doctor sat in his office chair leaned towards the big opaque window and into the endless lawn.) or with a word he gave her no reply. It would have been an awkward moment for Morgan if not the entire meeting with this strange meeting at this strange place basically, No Man’s Land Street 1, New South Wales state, back in Australia.

She started to ask herself to just get up and walk out of there when an inexcusable, the eternal sin of any mistake any professional person in a respectful position to advice his common people anything could do, the almost 100 year old man of science, medicine and reason chuckled. First just once, if it. had been just that maybe it could be taken as a burp, but when he stood up and laughed so his whole big old wise body shook and vibrated with laughter. The laughter too didn’t stop and he stood up straight and wiped his eyes of tears. His eyes were soaked, his voice blurred but still tuned enough as to manage to hiss to Miss Moraan (19) the following repulsive sentence for a physician to say to every human being, patient or not. Of course you’ll die, that’s what cancer does. I sure ought to know. The girl who had come to the well respected alternative healer for his electromagnetic energies to do anything with her rather aggressive tumour in the vulva.

Moraan screamed like the only normal act would have been for her to do and ran out of his office forgetting her keychain where she had been sitting. .


‘You’re seriously telling me a ghost story?’

‘It’s true.’

‘How do you know’? 

‘When the devil signs off and leaves the playground you know it’s really getting dark, am I right?’

‘Stop it. You’re a jerk’. 

-Light switches off-


Bach Doctrine Lyrics Parental Advisory Explicit Content Poetry Slightly spiritual

Grit, Grit, Grit

Grit Grit Grit

You’re covered in shit

Shit Shit Lift, (please)

You better get a grip

Arise soldier and die for your country or in the name of me, thy God Almighty,

with my glass of ink and sharpened feather I write

Grit Civil Grit war Grit Residue

You’re covered in shit

Drip Drip Drip

I’m the cause and sorry for all of it

Shit Shit

I better get a grip

Arise myself from the corpses and resurrect myself just because no one has done that yet

Still we write

Grit Grit Grit

Diggin my grave with no shovel and no pick

If I do not get a grip

Drip Drip Drips

Diggin my potatoes with potential and potent flavors still I write

Grit grit grit

Lyrics My own private personal shit Parental Advisory Explicit Content Poem Slightly spiritual


So you wanna be a stone

Your father said you werent his son and now your head is about to explode

So you wanna be stone in private or your own tv show

So does everyone, today you’re number 91 in front of us row goes round the block

What makes you so uncomfortable with being alone

Are we not on the same stone

Or rather why aren’t you more like a rock

True faith, a life darkenes and somber toned

True love ain’t there, only zero and four and one and twenty one and all the stones

You’re aware of our rules, our sacred vow?

Still you wanna be a stone

Next question is on a personal note

How come you’re under thirty years old, so im to young but i say like mother mary before me lied her way out of being stoned

Are you aware there’s no turning back-road?

There’s no turning the hourglass and Hourglass Rd.

Here we are from the light we are rodeo

Here from the light to steal your warm hair and warmer soul

Here’s all you nees to know, listen to me boy

Once you join us in Paris, I book the hotel, skin you and you’re the skinless bones and stones

5 AM Bubblegum soda pop Moon Poem Poetry Short Story Slightly spiritual Stay Brave UK Wild Stories, Spoken Words, fiction, Poetry,

The Nobody and The Marquis

‘Everybody Wants to be me’ said the nobody.

‘Correct’ corrected the Marquis de Carabas accurately before quick as a cat snapped his fingers in the air. As to announce his presence.

A diversion.

The nobody turned to him and he shot him right between the eyes.

The room looked really bad after the Marquis shot the nobody at a distance less than six feet with the flaregun he always took with him when killing nobodies.

The Marquis de Carabas gave himself a satisfying smile though before quickly wiped his face with his sleeve and climbed out the same window he had used as his entrance.

Before the Marquis vanished into the night he said somewhat to the owls, doves and ravens following him. ‘Africa should really teach the other continents how to dress, dance and eat’ and all agreed.

‘Tudelu. Got places to be, people to kill. Time is not a friend, I’m afraid.

And gone was him and after a while one of the birds asked

‘who was he’

Bird brains had forgotten but I know as sure as your heart is rotten unfree and unclean:

The Carabas Of The Marquis was the name but who was he? A killer of nobodies. Like this one. Or people like Ted Nugent, Ronald McDonald, Eminem and Sony Music Ltd.

A killer, although he preferred watching boxing or looking at his collection of cobras hunt to eat their prey and watching them digest their food forever. He like most villains also got a house of mouths to feed. He was just delivering on an unfinished deed. Who?

A great lover of women, a jazz saxophonist and one of the founders in dark New Orléans, that house of that rising sun. Born in april, allergic to strawberries.

A collector of insects and ice hockey playing cards of which he had quite a selection. Yet he was also a villain, a victim of the violence and ashamed generation that knew when African people blamed him and his country, the home of the free, for inventing the virus and , he knew as you and I and everyone knows it is as accurate as could be.

The Marquis was somewhere between the future and the east

When Jesus returned and doomed the people of color to damnation eternal but made the Marquis a high priest.

God knows a good kill when he sees it’s real pure and last but not least evil and mean.

‘Shut up your holiness, I’m on my way to no man’s land. There’s a nobody out there, you just put the money in the van’


Jesus stood and watched where he ran down highway 43

He shook his head and said with great envy.

Oh, if only I could show that Carabas that I’m worth something too, he’s so arrogant. Just like Madonna.

And then the Holy spirit summoned him and summarized in Christ,

That maybe his Father was wrong, maybe love despite what I though seizes to exist if the world still is filled with nobodies and then Jesus bombed the UN building. With those stolen WMDs and then he vanished too because the Lord of The Rings caught his attention as it was 1956.

(500 years before in Rome said the pope, give me the rope. I can hear the footsteps of the Marquis in my halls’ And there again he was. The Nobody, The wannabe and the Marquis alert as a tiger when helping the world, helping all of us, to minimize the nobodies around us.)

5 AM box Parental Advisory Explicit Content Poetry Slightly Political Slightly spiritual Stay Brave UK Wild Stories, Spoken Words, fiction, Poetry,

They Wither So Fast Away

They Wither, they grow
Just like us
Like every piece of stardust
the Earth
To these seeds we all
Excitingly awaiting their
Birth and dream
But there’s something fishy in the air
This year they all wither so fast away
They Wither, through winter
And grow in the heat
In the summer degree
just because
just for fun
im supposing
maybe I’m wrong
“the next generation of these blossoms 
 bound to die young’ 
Oh there’s a storm rising I fear
This year, They Wither So Fast Away
‘Withering faster
Stop it!
Said the master’

Then they bloom and sink their shoulders

dragging even my face down to the ground
when they die, one after another
it’s a bittersweet parade
every time
There is something summoning towards here
Because this year, They Wither So Fast Away
And then they last and last without a beat
of a heart under ice for ten
to twenty years but then
Some Voice speaks
Come here, Come near me
Something is not where or what supposed to be
this year they all Wither So Fast Away
Something is not where or what supposed to be
this year they all Wither So Fast Away
5 AM Bach Lyrics Moon Slightly spiritual

My Gang

my gang is playing russian roulette

i roll myself a cigar and pull an empty socket out in the sunset next one up

is your mother, K-dix

she’s in my gang

where we hang is near your wife

and her friends hang

hand in hand in hand so nice to see women

embrace other women


you’ll always miss us time after time

cause time gives birth to time

my gang rolls like the tide

a wheel on a free city bike

what party is next

we’re here to destroy what is left to destroy of the already brokendown cities of asthma country in ruins broke and sudden swept with fire flashing flashes strikes me not, Where to now? breathes my gang and swears

I stole Gods car and I crashed

what party is next

Slightly spiritual

Be My Friend

Be my friend

Don’t go

Where you know

So well

I can’t follow

These lines were roads once

Useless now and useless then

Be my friend

5 AM Excerpts from whatever Slightly spiritual

Where Is He?

‘A long time ago for most of you, a mosquito killed a scarab by eating its legs and eyes before watching it die slowly as it sat watching. An act of pure desperation as the room it was locked in had no other living organism in it but the scarab, and the mosquito craved blood so much it started to dawn on it that life as it knew it might be over if he didnt get proper blood soon. As life poured out of the scarab a scent arose in the room only noticeable by blood sucking insects in immediate distance, and the scent was rigid and unholy and tasted more bitter than the fluorescent lights for now turned off, as if it reflected the sensations felt by the dead bug at the time of its Death. After it passed, the lab room continued to be dark, locked and only furnished With a white table With one dying and another dead insect without wings. The man who had collected the wings from the crippled hunger ridden mosquito was the Young Version of Mister Hisch. He had taken them to his Third date With Mister Hancke after Learning about his taste for anything that once had been part of a bug ripped off while the creature was still alive and breathing. 9.8 Miles North by northwest from the abandoned lab Mister Hisch waited for Mister Hancke to be done in the bathroom. Anal sex was hard on the digestive system and Mister Hisch tended to become aroused by Things in that category.
After he knocked on the door, found Mister Hancke gone without a trace, Mister Hisch found himself cry out; Where is He?! He had been outside, waiting patiently the entire time and there was no logical explanation for him not to have seen him exit the toilet.
Under the greenish bleak Parisian night Mister Hancke lit a cigarette on top of the Sacré Coeur dome quite content he had mastered his third magical Power, the mighty act of Transmutation. Only four Wonders to go he thought while smoking his cigarette as if every inhale was a satisfying proof he was no one to be ever by anyone a slave to answer the question Mister Hancke hated more than pretty much any other. The dreadful tongue of “Where is he”. With this Power, the question would from now on always be a hard one to answer sufficent if, at all.

The night continued to be abnormal all the way to dawn, When the sun arose over the city of light, no rays reflected the vanished imprint of Mister Hancke at the top of Sacré Coeur and the day turned out to be vital and vicouriously fatal, as all days have the habit of becoming.

box Slightly spiritual


Toast to the people making thunder

Toast to those who burns the flag of wonder

A toast to the disunited states

And one for all the hate it creates

Him close his presidential coat in waiting for the rain

A toast to rain! Turning like the wheel pleasure into pain!

A toast to the brushes of a toothbrush never used

A toast to fur coats and that song about them boots




Bach box midnight My own private personal shit Parental Advisory Explicit Content Poem Poetry Slightly Political Slightly spiritual Stay Brave UK Wild Stories, Spoken Words, fiction, Poetry, You Don't Know Jack Zoo Box Zoobox

The Music Is No Good Here

Here’s a little something to review
I know the world will not stop spinning

As long as you’re in it – keep on playing failing after failing after failing

On fine mornings like this never forget

Such aspects of the world i love are

People when they realize when they seize and appreciate their real eye realism

Here’s a little something to preview
I know the world is full of pulp dictation
No no one is here but you go on in inside the glue ill miss you but your intentions, Jesus were righteous and always good.