NaPoWriMo 2019/Day 1 – Recipe for Disaster

So a little precursor for day 1.

I stand on the precipice of some amazing opportunities but a combination of depression and witnessing the pointless cruelty of someone stifling the creativity and growth of a loved one while also affecting a potentially beneficial project have gotten me royally fucked off. Jaime Lannister may have said “by what right does the Wolf judge the Lion?” but a larger question for our society is “by what right does the fly hinder the workhorse?” For a fly knows nothing but the stench of shit and hindering those that are doing or have the potential to be doing good work.

Anyway. Here’s the piece:

Take a pinch of reality – oh shit… the whole cup

with the wisdom of Solomon to ask for none.

For knowledge without power is lacking in agency…

I have no taste for fuelling falsehoods flagrantly.

Is a pigeon stand-offish when the ledge is spiked?

I carry the message that’s needed, not the one that is liked.

Many are stupid, and many more crueller…

they sip Arbor Gold, gallivanting to stupor.

Bereft in agony, for my loved ones oft afar…

my heart remains open while life is ajar.

The ingredients are gourmet

but the pan is rusted.

I’m brilliant, alone and depressed

but is it me that’s busted?

Aquatic Stardust

Aquatic Stardust

Aquarian Aquarius,

everyone be hearing us.

What an exciting life you lead,

cosmic superhuman centipede.

I’m Centric G pause for the D:

ejaculating antiquating – even thoughts dilapidated.

You should go through twice

extinguish anguish from your life

cosmic zombie souls are sliced.

Universal detoxification

electrocuting nation-notions

rubbing Atlas, struggled rolling

infinitesimal scrolling.

CTRL ALT DELETE

on an overlooped repeat

of every idea we can infernally excrete.

Firing Hades,

call me maybe?

Rae Jepsen with Jetsons,

Bicurious George sliced through Jetsam

and Flotsam shall blossom

from all the things we’ve forgotten

from top to the bottom.

Queefing lies from the Metrix,

while I’m high watching Netlix.

Separate one from the Zero

sublet from Herculean heroes.

What is a God

and what is a Terry Flap?

Pterodactyl tearing tracks up,

Buzz light the Zoot

cos Andy’s next – Zucc

everyone and Zucc

everything like Jon Lajoie,

knowing nothing

bout the beginning

of True Runes being.

Sui-ko-den,

and I’m back from the dead

like Gremio, screaming out your stereo.

Luc’s Wind Rune stayed true forever though,

cos what else could you ever know?

How can you judge war

as a spiritual non-combatant yo?

I loved them games,

and I live for kills:

but FPS games I’m bereft of skills.

But both has to be a concept

as consoles land a suplex

and it’s wrestling in vests,

all’s a work

but the next

choice that you step

onto the world…

‘s Cosmic Justice

staged courts are a must in

– for all life to be bustling

or else sociologically combusting

from universal abundance

of choice to be trusted

enacted, with more sting than a buzz kill.

Honey-looping through custard,

Tubby chasing through Worcester-

Shire dressed as Hobbits

all addicted to Bop Its.

Slap it and twisted,

got more logs than Limp Bizkit

eating TESCO’s own biscuits

through Brexit Gnomes excess

into a Noseybonk Nexus.

But it’s ok to have no thrills,

that’s your choice:

I took both pills

now I’m stuck in the MATRIX,

aware of the reality yet struggling to shake it.

Lucid dream wake this,

as Shakespeareans shake fists

into another timeline

_ every choice has 3 lifetimes.

So no need to be rushing,

Take your time and press buttons;

like Sheen,

on the Wayback Machine.

Your intellect will intersect

where internet can search for skets

but that ain’t for me;

ain’t nobody tainting thee

stay peeled as thine’s potating thee.

Freestyle over gotta go,

man’s soul eternal flows

resurrecting from infernal blows

is the only way this world can flow,

I be feeling wilful yo

but nonetheless I gots to go

before I’m smarting,

bury me a G R R Martin

against any punkass pirates starting.

Make your own choice,

Ushiku is yours

– the gift from God

is a gift to from all worlds.

So caio, chai betta

stop me before I start to get clever

I’ll resuit for reshoots

as reality reloops.

Good music comes from people who are relaxed

so I shall unfurl these eclipses,

Extract S from ellipi

… hell if I know,

one from t’other

roll up for galactic snuggles

blepping puggles

underneath covers of cuddles.

So now I’ll finally Skadoodle

turn your dicks into noodles,

light up the room like your Paddy the Yoodle.