at the entrance of the mountain kings hall

oh the siren calls low at this latitude sir

jumble bundle common and care

i lost in this photo outside of eden

hurry worry wriggle and writhe

i just a poor wanderer alone in me head ma’am

gnashing thrashing bang em n woe

(english peasant song circa 2012)

i just a old minstrel fall down on me luck there

i rippy van winkle i sleeping for ever

in those languid dreams which glide through my skies

oh i am nijinsky who moves like a black cat

no gravity has any pull over him

he moves with the grace of a swan through the air

or  salmon flashing berserk through alpine stream

purgatory saturated and enhanced

in the afternoon of a faun-ification

see me suspended over the stage because i really can fly

see us burst from the cinema  a fruity comet

i feel like robbing a river bank

i feel like asking god a million questions on behalf of mourners

i feel like blowing out to white in vishnus effulgent white

i feel like sinking in magnesium sulphate till there is no ache tonite

above all else is this castle in the cloudlands

potency throbs in the silences and blank sheets of water colour paper

acid free and textured rough

a lunatic chucking round sound n colour a self taut tantric turkey

this insight into my life was made possible by the time being . com

no infinitives were split during the creationism of this blog