This is God's Own Country
This is God's Own Country
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PINK WATER

and in the bath swims my honey boy,
his as yet unwashed hair tousled
around the cherub face of an angel.
little toes and fingers wrinkled pink
as he thrashes in the water
to make an ever bigger splash.

because this drenching quenching splash
is not the tidal displacement of my boy
but a whale or a fish or a shark, living water,
where bladderwrack and seaweed are tousled
fronds among fishes silver, blue and pink.
flashes of tiny life from devil to angel.

for in this seaworld my young angel
is prince of his sandcastle and may splash
as the fish flash silver, blue and pink
as they dart around my boy.
for in this seaworld there is not tousled
danger in the weedbeds of the dark water.

no transluscent forms in his water
to bring fear to his soul of an angel.
he does not see the world tousled
with dread or indifferent to the splash
of hope and spirit of my boy.
he begins his journey fresh and pink.

a wrinkled, joyous, carefree pink
thrashing in his seacave water
threading through coral like a marine boy
on the fin-like wings of an angel
in a turmoil of thrash and splash
with hope and spirit never tousled

as our lives have become tousled
and slowly turned to grey from pink.
for this is his time to splash
and share his space in water
brought alive, as if by an angel,
to nurture the essence of being a boy.

for, all tousled together, in water
turned pink by the light of my angel,
resound the splashes of every boy


structure of the sestina

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today's handkerchief is:

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i watched
clear water
circle
and slip
sideways

into the drain

so much water

and no bridge

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WHY UNCLE SAM'S OK

i just wanna say a big hi y'all to the american visitors we been getting on the site recently. it's great to see all you guys (and dolls) checking out wassup in the uk because we're honestly great friends.

it's like that special relationship thing that our euro brothers don't really, y'know, unnerstand?

so welcome on in to god's own country, set a spell and, like, take the weight off? may be buy a t-shirt huh?

oh and also thanks for eating on up all that breakfast syrup stuff, s'really appreciated.

it's, like, two reasons:

1. where would them ruskies get rid of all that nuclear waste that could fall into, like, muslim-communist hands otherwise?

2. it's gotta upset them canucks because all they got is some organic crap that comes out of trees or something.

breakfast syrup


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today's handkerchief is:

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THIS IS THE TRUTH



apparently, when i been looking all over, it's in these bottles and tablets and white round things. so when i, like, says - what is the truth? - it means is something that's distilled from moonbeams or stuff.

because truth is defined different by you and me. each, like, pill thing is a little bit of your own truth that helps you, like, fix stuff.

so, like, wow, y'know? if only someone had told them x-files people, it wouldn't have run to nine series and a movie.



the x-files
homeopathic resources

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a bent-spoke wheel
in this flower garden
reminds us

of a time
when yellow birds
sang and fluttered

because
these
four eyes

see beauty
in everything

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WHERE'S IT GOING?

i've been worrying a lot lately. and a trouble shared is a trouble halved, so this is about what's been worrying me. i've been thinking about all these reduced fat stuff that you can buy if you're, like, weight-watching or something.

what worries me is where does it go? i mean, if they, y'know, reduce the fat, where do they put the stuff they've reduced it by?

you can't just, like, vaporise it. there must be big lakes of it somewhere. perhaps they put it in empty oil wells or something. i dunno. but i bet one day, when everyone's thin, we're going to need all that reduced fat and they could sell to us again so it's probably worth a lot sometime.


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today's handkerchief is:

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HOW IT ALL BEGAN

everyone on the internet has good teeth. there isn’t any bad breath and it is never the morning after the night before. girls are girls and men are men, anyone is whoever they plan to be. fingernails never need cleaning and the greener grass is always freshly mown.

fat has been abolished. along with poor skin, eye wrinkles, excessive noses and sloppy asses like over-ripe plums. it’s nirvana, valhalla and walnut fucking whip with extra crème. it’s a goddam lie and as sweet as the sweetest lie you ever heard. it’s honcho home for shitheads, potheads, technoheads, airheads and eggheads. it’s a lie, lie, lie and it’s coming to a town near you, in a great big stripey tent. lions and tigers and bears, oh my.

this is the story of jonah, venceremos, ghost on the highway. and if it’s their story, then it’s also mine. listen children: out there, in the netspace, cyberland, altaworld, underworld, the shit is really going down.

the real rain washed the scum off the sidewalks and we’re down here baby, under your skin, in the goddam fucking wires, short-circuiting the microchips and the condensors and the resistors, even the goddam valves bro, even the valves (ain’t nuthin sacred any mo’?). we’re up your fridge and through your tube, on your desk and in your car.

it’s a revolution honey, and you’ve been caught.

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today's handkerchief is:

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ETERNAL CHICKENS

he lives with his children
in an idyllic village surrounded by chickens,
a two-storey home in yellow fields
where the corn ripens gold
and mayflies live each moment
as if they have found eternity.

the long summer is an eternity
or so it seems to the children
with their capacity to relish each moment
as if every cluck was the last of the chickens
while the evening sun turns to gold,
reflecting the yellow glory of the fields.

the shrieks of laughter across the fields
echo from the hills of eternity,
childlike joy turning sound to gold.
calls and counter calls from children,
running mad like chickens,
exhilarated by every moment.

and here are we, at this moment,
standing together in the nirvana fields,
amidst the homely cluck of chickens
and foreseeing the passage of eternity,
perhaps as fresh as children,
in a world that has turned to gold.

but we are fools and our gold
is a false belief in the moment
when we are returned children,
walking in dreamlike fields
with false hope in our eternity,
scratching in the dirt like chickens.

scratching in the dirt like chickens
as if to find our pot of gold,
scratching for our eternity
with aspirations of no moment,
lost in complacent fields,
dreaming the dreams of children.

are we chickens at this moment?
we seek gold in arid fields,
faking belief in eternity like children.



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NEW PRAYERS

my children,
pray this way:

palms down,
hands side-by-side

fingers not lips
to murmur
supplications

genuflect digitally

always beware:

the devil
shares this space


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TRINITY

batter my heart, three-personed god; for, you
as yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
that i may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me and bend
your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.
i, like an usurpt town, to another due,
labour to admit you, but oh, to no end.
reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
but is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
yet dearly i love you, and would be loved fain,
but am betrothed unto your enemy:
divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
take me to you, imprison me, for i
except you enthral me, never shall be free,
nor ever chaste, except you ravish me

-- john donne

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today's handkerchief is:

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TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

i was run over by the truth one day.
ever since the accident i've walked this way
so stick my legs in plaster
tell me lies about vietnam.

heard the alarm clock screaming with pain,
couldn't find myself so i went back to sleep again
so fill my ears with silver
stick my legs in plaster
tell me lies about vietnam.

every time i shut my eyes all i see is flames.
made a marble phone book and i carved out all the names
so coat my eyes with butter
fill my ears with silver
stick my legs in plaster
tell me lies about vietnam.

i smell something burning, hope it's just my brains.
they're only dropping peppermints and daisy-chains
so stuff my nose with garlic
coat my eyes with butter
fill my ears with silver
stick my legs in plaster
tell me lies about vietnam.

where were you at the time of the crime?
down by the cenotaph drinking slime
so chain my tongue with whisky
stuff my nose with garlic
coat my eyes with butter
fill my ears with silver
stick my legs in plaster
tell me lies about vietnam.

you put your bombers in, you put your conscience out,
you take the human being and you twist it all about
so scrub my skin with women
chain my tongue with whisky
stuff my nose with garlic
coat my eyes with butter
fill my ears with silver
stick my legs in plaster
tell me lies about vietnam.

-- adrian mitchell

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THIS IS TRUE

i was, like, out there, thinking about the truth and stuff and then it, like, hit me, y'know? and i thought so this is what it means to, say, have something like a revalation or something.

it was, like, kerpow, and i just seen it all for what it was, clear as day or something. like i was stood on a mountain on top of, y'know, the valley of truth, looking down and seeing stuff laid out. kinda laid out like a quilt or a patchy blanket or stained underpants, y'know?

so i thought, like, wow, and had a drink. so i forgot mostly what it was like, but i seen it for sure and that's true. innit?

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WHAT IS LOYALTY?

sometimes i get to thinking about loyalty cards and what i get thinking is, like, loyalty about what?

well i know all about them, y'know, extra groceries or stuff you can get from sainsbury's (or is it asda's) and i think even coffee or such from a coffee shop. but i think that just means that they want you to come back and, say, have another cup, praps cheaper.

now, i don't know about it but i'm not sure that's what, like, loyalty really means. i mean, i know you go back to the shop again but i thought it was about sticking by people. even when they praps done something wrong (and especially if they didn't).

i dunno, praps it's better as it is nowadays and just get a cheap coffee because i bet some of those french people who stuck together at dien bien phu really wished they didn't have done.

sounds like...
dictionary definition
sainsbury's reward card
dien bien phu

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oh be joyful

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today's handkerchief is:

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wanted man in california, wanted man in buffalo,
wanted man in kansas city, wanted man in ohio,
wanted man in mississippi, wanted man in old cheyenne,
wherever you may look tonight, you may see this wanted man.

i might be in colorado or georgia by the sea,
working for some man who may not know at all who i might be.
if you ever see me comin' and if you know just who i am,
don't you breathe it to nobody 'cause you know i'm on the lam.

wanted man by lucy watson, wanted man by jeannie brown,
wanted man by nellie johnson, wanted man in this next town.
but i've had all that i've wanted of a lot of things i had
and a lot more than i needed of some things that turned out bad.

i got sidetracked in el paso, stopped to get myself a map
went the wrong way into juarez with juanita on my lap.
then i went to sleep in shreveport, woke up in abilene
wonderin' why the hell i'm wanted at some town halfway between.

wanted man in albuquerque, wanted man in syracuse,
wanted man in tallahassee, wanted man in baton rouge,
there's somebody set to grab me anywhere that i might be
and wherever you might look tonight, you might get a glimpse of me.

wanted man in california, wanted man in buffalo,
wanted man in kansas city, wanted man in ohio,
wanted man in mississippi, wanted man in old cheyenne,
wherever you may look tonight, you may see this wanted man.

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it's cloudy in the west it looks like rain
my eyes are black holes and i'm burning away

you slaughtered your loving man
killed him in his sleep
the blood and crying of your murder
simply stains your sheets

now you're a ghost on the highway
your gesture’s meaningless
you're lost to the living men
trailing souls to the end

you thought winning as a woman meant failing as a friend
it is not an art statement to drown a few passionate men

you made yourself a diamond
to blind young men's eyes
you claim because they want your shine
they deserve to walk the line

you're a ghost on the highway
your gesture’s meaningless
you're lost forever to the living men
trailing souls to the end

yes i gave you my love
so my soul would not starve
but it could never move the honest rock
of what you really are

you're a ghost on the highway
you're like straw and meaningless
i hate you, but i loved you
i'll carry that to the end

if i ever lie with you again, i pray i do not sleep
if i ever closed my eyes again, i'd realise what you are to me.
you are simply a liar
an animal who bluffs and steals
until you become
a bigger creature's meal

and a ghost on the highway
you’re trash and meaningless
i hate you, but i loved you
i'll carry that to the end

you're lost on the highway

you lost on the highway

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what do you want of me
what do you long from me
a slim pixie, thin and forlorn
a count, white and drawn
what do you make of me
what can you take from me
pallid landscapes off my frown
let me rip you up and down

for you i came to forsake
lay wide despise and hate
i sing of you in my demented songs
for you and your stimulations
take what you can of me
rip what you can off me
and this i'll say to you
and hope that it gets through

you worthless bitch
you fickle shit
you will spit on me
you will make me spit
and when the judas howl arise
and like the jesus jew you epitomize
i'll still be here as strong as you
and i'll walk away in spite of you

and i'll walk away

walk away

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here
in the gore pit
it would be
fey to ask
on whose hands
is the blood

splattered all
in tapestry
of life
and death

we wade
and circle

looking for
an opening

locked in
embrace

above us
the sky
is blue
and distant

yes?

a circle
of sky
like a lid

do not
look up

it exposes
your throat

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spattered
on to my
hand and belly

hot, rich
burning life

creation and
damnation

all i am
and all
of life

succinct

sometimes
you miss it

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you give it
no credit

but i look
between the lines
of verse

as you look
between the sheets

for answers
neither of us

will find

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palms up
or down

i ask

i ask
and there
is no

answer

there is
no one

to answer

up
or down

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FOR WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

my dear
mr williams

is your book
Collected Poems II
1939-1962
a brick
or a bible?

seeking truth
i carry it
in my fist

looking for
shopwindows
and
non-believers

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interlude

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WHY DRUMMERS ARE DIFFERENT

once, i, like, lived with this guy and he borrowed my records and about a week later i stick my head round the door and, like, there's james brown, out of his cover and a frosting of talcuum powder all over him and big, like, sasquatch footprints all over the bedroom floor in this, like, fine dusting of white powder.

i think it wasn't long after that james brown went to prison for a bit, y'know?

well, i'm not sure there's a kinda justice moral in here somewhere, but i tell you this much, if ever a drummer asks to borrow your sounds, don't, i say, don't let him have your greatest hits copy. give him, like, one of the general releases, there's always at least one piece of crap on there anyway.

the bomb party - you know who you are.

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WHY FUDGE IS GOOD BUSINESS

if you, like, live in the lake district or something then fudge is probably pretty good business to be in. i mean, it's, y'know, dead popular with tourists and stuff.

but we probly don't have many tourists what with the foot and mouth thing and not many americans flying right now. so i kinda wonder why the houses of parliament is producing so much extra fudge nowadays when there must be a decreasing market.

oh. and here's an update about elizabeth filkin, the standards woman, and what our mps are saying about what a great job she's done.

sir gordon downey, standards commissioner, 1995-98
yesterday in parliament

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WHY OLD PEOPLE ARE USELESS

old people are useless because they don't spend anything any more. what is the use of a citizen who doesn't have a mortgage? who won't buy life insurance? who doesn't follow the latest fashion?

tell me, how many old people do you know who own a skateboard? think about it, it matters. yeah, sure, some of them have mobile phones but they don't text their mates all night do they? It's just for "emergencies". how can you sustain that as a revenue stream? listen, these people are retired. that means they don't work anymore. and if they don't work and they don't consume, what's the point of them?

according to the age concern site government figures say that more than half of the nation's single pensioners have net incomes of less than £90 a week.

a quarter of couples have net incomes of less than £135 a week. age concern england commissioned research to establish the incomes which older people need to avoid poverty and achieve an "acceptable" standard of living. the figures ranged from £99 to £125 a week for single people and from £149 to £184 for couples. pensioner poverty is aggravated by the low take-up of many means-tested benefits.

that means they are entitled to money but they are not getting it. so maybe, just maybe, if we could encourage these people to claim this money, they could become useful consumers again. you might even see one or two of them eating in McDonald's (for fun not nutrition).

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December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
August 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
March 2004
November 2004
December 2004
February 2005
May 2007
June 2007

AUDIO LINKS

why jonah?

1 et praeparavit Dominus piscem grandem ut degluttiret Ionam et erat Iona in ventre piscis tribus diebus et tribus noctibus
2 et oravit Iona ad Dominum Deum suum de utero piscis
3 et dixit clamavi de tribulatione mea ad Dominum et exaudivit me de ventre inferni clamavi et exaudisti vocem meam
4 et proiecisti me in profundum in corde maris et flumen circumdedit me omnes gurgites tui et fluctus tui super me transierunt
5 et ego dixi abiectus sum a conspectu oculorum tuorum verumtamen rursus videbo templum sanctum tuum
6 circumdederunt me aquae usque ad animam abyssus vallavit me pelagus operuit caput meum
7 ad extrema montium descendi terrae vectes concluserunt me in aeternum et sublevabis de corruptione vitam meam Domine Deus meus
8 cum angustiaretur in me anima mea Domini recordatus sum ut veniat ad te oratio mea ad templum sanctum tuum
9 qui custodiunt vanitates frustra misericordiam suam derelinquunt
10 ego autem in voce laudis immolabo tibi quaecumque vovi reddam pro salute Domino
11 et dixit Dominus pisci et evomuit Ionam in aridam

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