Nature Doc on a Loop
I want someone to grip my wristsand look straight back at meI want the clock to stop,so I can take a look and seethat maybe I’ve been wanderingfor a while too long, like a loose broken turnstile,spinning cleanly, unbound,though not exactly uninhibited or free.
It’s not a tragedy. It can be another moment that wasn’t meant to be,the aftermath becomes the new normal,the temporary is now the permanent,a workaround to adjust to the instability,to help cover up what is still wide open.
Do you see why I need someone to grab hold of my wrists?Sometimes I need a moment.
It seems like a lot of people want this movie to end,but I don’t.The point is moot. This theater plays films on a loop.The lead roles shift back and forth and with time, we all learn each other’s lines.One of the characters is you.I don’t remember where our words came frombut as you say themmy lips might move too,knowing that it can and cannot be true.
I tried to run away from home onceI had internalized their arguments andbelieved they were both right.Missouri without a car is close to impossiblea child walking down a highway with a backpackknows there is no pointkicks some dust off the shoulderbut isn’t yet ready to be picked up.
Everyone I know is overloaded.Their clients are falling from the windowsand squeezing back in through the front doors. Even their ledgers seem to be near their limits.
I feel a kind of total emptiness.The grass grows back strong when my weight is lifted off of it. Turns out the blades are indifferent.
I’m one weird ass bird and you are the treesYour roots are strong and I’m in the breeze.I can put my home in your branchesand hide in your leaves. I have no mouths to feed,the worms I catch are all for me.
I’m on the tip of a feather, thenI sink heavy, far and deep,the rush of living distilled into a moment of peaceunder your familiar canopy.
I can never be late here.
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 1 January 2022 19:45 (six months ago) link
for some reason i've been writing a lot recently, and i really don't want to have to get a MFA and wait to get to be published in a friend's book before i am credentialed to put a poem in a public space. maybe you feel that way too, so please post yr poems if you want. otherwise i'll just keep posting mine, who fucking cares
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 1 January 2022 19:47 (six months ago) link
Loose Control
Sometimes I try to put myself in a state,call it Loose Control, for now,where expressive results are bent into javelined roads,temporary paths getting all covered up and forgotten under relentless waves of new stuff.
Imagine automatic writing but more visual,thin and slivering lines instead of language,the brush’s residuals replacing the text.
When I Loosely Control my hand starts to moveon its own, independently,thickened water sloshingly flyingup and around the edges of a bucketwhich is swirling in elliptical orbits,the inverse of my motions,the effects of my causes becominguntethered from their origins, and yet I know that I am part of it all.It is from me and yet it doesn’t see me back.
A forgotten mark gets scattered up,reforms as a ladder and tipstoward new directions,one of many landing strips,loud movement then stillness,a flood and then a covenant.
I make my bed and I sleep on top of it.My heart beats are uninterrupted.They make me live so I listen,five liters of blood in a circuit,all sustained without a rhythm. I barely understand but I know I’ll wake up.
out of this tape hiss comes some light
i've been dropped off here,old train running on a fresh sea,with fingertips all cut up and worn down fromconstant use, my newer skin turns rough
I wanted someone to talk to but instead I had a beer or two.it’s only more water pushing against my barricades.we build ourselves back up and see each other off at the door.I wonder who is watching who. I wonder how long I can keep this up.I think about what it would be like to see you stop.
I broke your locks but fixed your door sweep.Your car was fine but I brought it to the shop.I made your day easier and that was enough.
Tough love, that’s kid stuff. I’ll clean the dirt off, don’t worry.Your hands are blistered.Mine are sweating. My glasses fogged up.But I still drop them off at school.
Two-step around the room. The drums and the singingand I’m feeling warm again.I’m stretched out and dry.crushed in, drawn tightI haven’t touched skin so soft in years,my knuckles pop like firecrackers,My hands are stupid bricks. My WPM is 96.The words pile up and I keep writing.
There’s a ship that sails back.I can still see it.I think about my sense of humanity. I think I saw my spirit dancingwith the one that brought me,the thought which took me out on the town and spun me sideways,our long naps in the evenings,unwarned,unearned,walking on air, enchanted.
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 1 January 2022 19:48 (six months ago) link
a moving checkmark has caught my eyestarkly black on blue tinted gray.2 birds to the left, 6 to the right1 at the heada flying nonet not at all like a Monetbut beautiful all the same
you had to be there I suppose.
Hey look, we’re right on time.This place has been designated for our recovery.It’s sponsored by a local charcuterie.
You know I’m only kiddingand the bit is that there’s nothing to get(everyone’s least favorite)
What do you know, we’re in another lineThis place is dedicated to making moneyjust like pretty much everywhere elsenow that anyone or anything can be a marketour dreams got commodified in the bargain
Remember those glow-in-the-dark ceiling star kits?Did you ever peel them off, or did someone else do it without your say?And what happened to that dog we had, anyway?
Some kids recreate the solar systemat a 36 billion to one ratio“whaaaah bakkken-mah day”, old man me may say, “o kai, Pluto was still part of the solar system”as if it disappeared from existence altogether when it lost its placeas the 9th and furthest planet on the wayto waypoints in other galaxiesit’s still there.It’s still cold.
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 2 January 2022 20:30 (six months ago) link
Old man me complains a lot, probablyI used to think about him every day,trying to avoid becoming him.The more I think of him the closer he gets,so I drew a line and put myself on one side of it,turned 180 degrees and went on autopilotit means smoking in the sunroom and washing downpizza crust with another beer on the way to the couch.When I finally turn around I know what to expect.Old man me’s shadow will be my own before long,a long-scheduled appointment well met.I shake his hand and we walk back into our apartment.He watches the shows and I hit refresh.
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 2 January 2022 20:35 (six months ago) link
That’s a part of our bargain.It’s about forgiveness.
I have quite a bit to apologize for.He at least acknowledges that it happenedThen he goes on and on and makes no sense.I try to listen, but can’t.
That’s when I want to think of something else.
That’s when I think about what I think a home isWhat we’ve all been through, andWhere have we gone, andwhat my friends have seen, their new families are growing.It’s aways the right season for fertility,I see all their children and I think “what if that was me?”And in every single case, I would be happy.My friends mean a lot to me. They keep me going.I think if I fall on my face they’ll love me all the more for it.That means everything to me.That lets me remember my inner child,cartwheeling straight down the street,sliding, careening, skinning a knee,getting all bent out of shapefrom anyone or anything I might meetknowing full well I have a place for recovery. Not my local Schnucks or wise-ass charcuteriesbut with my chosen family, the ones who are really there(and don’t charge an arm and a leg and a fee,
Happy anniversary to 1 of 365.25 people, on average, we might meetSoon the shops will open with the year’s first work week.I’m rooting for you, from the margins.Unemployed by choice, that’s the jargonI’ve rarely said “beg your pardon?”I usually say “I’m sorry?” and regret my decision of words immediatelythe theater of the absurd grows stale quicklylet’s break bread and dry it out completely.
― Karl Malone, Monday, 3 January 2022 04:53 (six months ago) link
Poetrylike potteryleft me coldas a pot of teain the studio
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:22 (six months ago) link
Shins
Whose thistle-blistered shin is this? The other one must surely missIts criss-crossed country counterpart If one is one and two are two how many shins am I to lose To bracken stumbles cuts and grazes, nettle stings and turns of phrasesSod this for a barrel of laughsI'd rather use the underpass
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:23 (six months ago) link
Borstal sorcerers
Don't grouse on my greasy undergarments with your oleaginous jeremiadsMetastatic angst in the antechamber of Anthea Turner's tanning atelierHock your snot into a truffled fist, you sunny-spayed evangelistsServe my sirloin on a praxis of half-shined rag-and-iron collidersBillious squalls from the Gorbals bill tables while we celebrate Clark Gable's nasty garlic nails.Slop a bucket of hot-steam gas on the coalface of the midnight mass Sick chicks peck at plastic packaging Dejected ingestion of a pupper's playthingRubber throats on the road start to rollick:"Hen, you've had your fillet!"You embattled borstal sorcerers
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:26 (six months ago) link
All mine were written into my phone while deeply hungover
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:30 (six months ago) link
(no match for KM's work of course, which I'm loving)
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 13:27 (six months ago) link
i'm just a doof in the wind, dog latin
Slow synth waves wash over 2amIt’s 1994 or 2024, doesn’t matterI didn’t have NickelodeonI’m falling asleepI might be falling again,By all signs I am(Each step is a kind of broken forward motion)According to Laurie Anderson.We can’t bothered paying too much attention right nowIn the midst of the everpresent competition of the senseswith touches and smells and sounds and visions,And on and on in bottomless provisionsThe brooms grow arms and pick up the bucketsand flood their lair in lemminglike motions
It tastes like wineIt tastes like honey
Let’s dim these lights and turn up their hues a degree or two warmer then cool daylightThe heat’s on 72I’m sweating, through the sheetsI see you moving,Do you see me watchingI hope you do.
We could just go.We could go to the Blue Lagoon.There’s a free layover at Reykjavik On the way to Europeor at least there used to be.I haven’t really left this town in a week or three.You sit in the sulfuric water and smell like eggs.Weird for a minute but plenty-fine in a daze,3-feet deep water, half crouchThe low-flying clouds of steam out the mouthHot stones on your cheeks against the North Atlantic breezeFor us it might be heavenFor others it’s a Tuesday soakOne to take off work and enjoy a floatfacedown for as long as their lungs can handle itThen flip and spread the arms toward all four directions,The cardinals, the original sin,Imagine you’re the tail of a lizardFeeling left and right and centeredAs naturally as our hearts beat and lungs breathe,We’re so lucky to sit at the top of these complicated systems,We don’t understand but we benefit from themTo live our lives in a way that honors that gift is to repay back only part of what we’ve been givenTo truly enjoy a sliver of the life Is to be adrift at sea, at home with the upheaval
I was really sick on a small boat the open sea there, near Iceland.We had paid a small fee to try to see a whale swim.Now I’m the boy on the big wide cold open ocean for the first time sincehis father drowned himself semi-voluntarily,probably out of ignorance,Out of a misplaced faith in his voice of intuition,One voice out of many in conversation,A form of improvised unpredictable organization, Sorted starting with numbers aBefore the lettersI opened my eyes and my stomach went sideways,I almost threw up but sat my way out of it.I closed my eyes and leaned back my headAgainst the cabin and the shapes inside my lidsWatching some puffins landing near a dark cave lit up by a tourist captain playing an echoing woodwindAn alto saxophone with an unexpected soulful lilt,A long quiet note held steady with tremolo flicksBouncing off the walls and my own index fingers and wristsTapping along to the the perfect story, followed by that solo, the one I just mentioned.I was haunted, what’s wrong with me, live.
― Karl Malone, Thursday, 6 January 2022 01:58 (five months ago) link
unexpectedlysubtle black cat climbs the fenceleaves night incomplete
― Halfway there but for you, Friday, 7 January 2022 18:49 (five months ago) link
Dr. Howl
The moving men just finishedThere are two of them, two guys, along with a truckThey’re dancing in the front cabinand filling it up with vape smoke and laughinghotboxing at 3pm, done with their shift
One of my neighbors is leavingbut I didn’t see who it was There’s a beagle next door that I call Dr. HowlThe good doctor documents his agony When his walker walks off to workhe yooowls to absurd lengthcaterwauls until no one can stand it
We all struggled with his lonelinessThose of us living within a 200-foot radius, that isOn some mornings it would go on for hours. He’d clock in early then go back to bedonly to wake up again around 9amto resume his fit at an even greater volume
I saw the Doctor Howl in his apartment’s side window sometimesWe’d make eye contact while I locked my front doorI loved seeing him in his window frame, looking at meHe single-handedly ruined my sleeping patternsand I’d give him some more time, I’d give him a treat, if I saw him
Now the truck and the two guys are goneThere’s a large empty space where it wasI haven’t heard a howl all daynow to think of itI wonder where that sad boy is
I hope he’s running in a big open spacemiles away from any other propertybarking and huffing and squallingthe doctor in his countryside residence, at peace
― Karl Malone, Friday, 7 January 2022 21:00 (five months ago) link
That's great
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Saturday, 8 January 2022 11:21 (five months ago) link
thank you dog latin! what is very strange is that when i finished that yesterday, i posted a video clip of me reading it, and almost the instant i hit send, i heard Dr. Howl going again and was assured that he's still around. I even saw him in the window looking back at me when i went outside later. it was really nice :)
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 16:54 (five months ago) link
the nice thing is that the poem stands up completely on its own, unaffected by those later facts
― more difficult than I look (Aimless), Saturday, 8 January 2022 17:05 (five months ago) link
thank you aimless! you all should post some that you're working on, if you want. i've revised all the ones i posted above, quite a bit in cases, but i think it's sometimes a nice thing to have a place to post work in progress. i'm working on a decent one right now, i think. i really enjoy using my mornings to write poetry. it fits in really well with the rest of my day and it makes me feel very productive. i've never really organized my writing before, but i think maybe part of that was that i assumed i would be best at doing it at night, which is when my creative outlets are usually sparking. but with writing, i think i am a morning/coffee person. anyway, just rambling, back to the notes :)
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 17:58 (five months ago) link
and no joke, just as i post, the same two guys and the moving truck just showed up! i think they're moving someone else in? looool. well, i'm sitting here at the same window, on the same couch. unbelievable
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 18:02 (five months ago) link
The silence of a new apartmentWaving to the one you left behind and closing the doorcrying and knees and hands touching the floorDo I want to be remindedNo, but I wouldn’t want to forget
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 18:34 (five months ago) link
one more, sorry. this is the one i've been working on the last few days
Mary Lou Retton Skips
Look at him, skipping ropeHe skipped up and down the full length of his block’s sidewalkwithout a single slip or halt, not a moment of hesitationIf anything he seems to be craving a mistakeNot at all like Mary Lou Retton, you remember a nation held its breath, it was the 1984 Olympicsthe sprint to the vault pushes those watching to the edges of their seatsshe launches, flips, soars, and of course sticks the landingShe demanded perfection of herself in a life full of limitsNow she’s waiting to see what the judge’ would thinkThen we saw the score and she heard it and said Yes!and we all said it together, Ten!, watching on our analog televisionsMoments like that certainly capture my attention. One hundred percent of it, the career-defining performanceThe tip of a spear dipping ever so slightly into transcendenceThat’s the boy who effortlessly skips, in the moment, in this moment,at the top of his game, when life seems so easyHis kid sister walks behind him and watches and smilesnow she’s spinning and he’s romping down the block again
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 19:45 (five months ago) link
(sorry, that's supposed to go into this:)
I don’t want to be disenchanted, as I sometimes amAs we all are bound to be, lost at sea in the knowledge economyI try to push back against that drift because I enjoy being enchantedIn fact, it means pretty much everything to meWhen it feels like magic I don’t know what I sawI know what it felt like, I don’t know it allI know every spell gets broken, I know where I belongEvery day can’t be like this and this might not happen againThat’s why I hold onto this feeling tightly for as long as I canwhen I can find it, when I can hear my voice and change it
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 19:48 (five months ago) link
(and then figuring out if i want to include this or work it into something else i've been working on. it contains many baseball references, which i'm sure will be wonderful for some and horrible for others, haha):
When the bus dropped me off, as a kid, I had a ritualI would take off my bag and begin the great spinWielding my backpack like an Decathlon competitor holds a hammerFeeling the slack of the Jansport bag’s thin straps tighteningGaining momentumA trapper keeper slammed up against polyester liningThen I’d whip my book bag off into the air as far as I could possibly throw itOften with a grand arc, as a performanceAs the bus pulled off with some kids laughing from the windowsthe school day was done, the home was still home
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 19:58 (five months ago) link
i changed the name to Skip to my Lou, and the last part is now part of something else. also revised a lot of things, after reading it out loud a few times and hearing where things needed to be
Skip to my Lou
Look at that kid, skipping ropeHe skipped up and down the full length of this block’s sidewalkwithout a single misstep, no miscues, no reservations If anything he seemed to be craving a mistakeOne to break the winning streak so he could move on to something else
Not at all like Mary Lou Retton, you remember a nation held its breath, it’s the 1984 OlympicsHer sprint to the vault pushes those watching to the edges of their seatsshe launches, flips, soars, and of course sticks the landingShe demanded perfection of herself in a world of limitsNow it all comes down to what the judges should thinkShe walks past the NBC cameras and we seethe pressure of theater on the brink of the rinkno one blinks, I think, no one breathesThen we saw the score and she heard it and said Yes!and we all shouted the number together, Ten!the announcer, the audienceeveryone at home watching on our analog televisions
Moments like that certainly capture my attention. One hundred percent of it, the career-defining performanceThe tip of a spear dipping ever so slightly into transcendenceThat’s the boy who skips, seemingly, without effortin the moment, in this momentat the top of his game, when life seems so easyHis kid sister walks behind him and watches and smilesnow she’s spinning and he’s romping down the block againHis streak is still goingHe can’t retire while he’s still on top becausehe hasn’t worked a jobI hope he doesn’t have to for as long as he can
I don’t want to be disenchanted, as I sometimes amAs we are all bound to be, lost at sea in the knowledge economy or whatever it is that we call thisI try to push back against that kind of heavy drift because I enjoy being enchantedIn fact, it means everything to meWhen I feel magical I don’t know what I sawI know what it felt like, I don’t know it allI know every spell gets broken, I know where I don’t belongI know most days aren’t like this That’s why I hold onto this feeling so tightly for as long as I canwhen I think about my voice and who is changing it
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 00:32 (five months ago) link
god, things can never be done.
last stanza now starts like this:
I don’t want to be disenchanted, as I sometimes amAs we’re all bound to be, emptied into the seain the knowledge economy or whatever it is that we call thisevery droplet of water makes its own slow way to the ocean
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 00:34 (five months ago) link
That Dr Howl one is pure late Bukowski, not a bad thing, I love late Bukowski.
Is this thread really for "works in progress"? Cus your standard and workrate is intimidating, and personally my brain doesn't work between October and like March or summat, so when I had a Big Day opening mail/taking a walk/reading the bible I wrote this down in full awareness I will not be fixing the meter and such until the sun hits my corpse:
I love my auntie's handwritingIt is genuinely illegible, butIt swoops and it soarsLong curves, that (to me)Illustrate: birds in flightMessi shots at goaland paths never tookOn walks in the forestIN THE HILLS
Turf HillScare HillBoy's HillBurnieshag, GaerlieThese are high points in my life(geddit?never mind...)
BellhangieShoolbraidBogton (fucken BOGTON)These are apparently individual "woods"But really(come bosie up and I'll tell you a secret):It's actually all one big forest(also my life is one big forest)
But my auntie's handwriting was NOT ALWAYS THIS WAYI knowBecause of my grandfather's bibleHis wife put it in my hands when he died, andInsideI found a slip of paperNo more than like 3/4 inch squareWith a verse from LukeBland, rote, capital lettersI would have never known who wrote itIf it wasn't signedHilary White
I just wanted to get for my own records before I forgot 1) my Auntie's baffling handwriting 2) The names I googled of where I was walking, I thought it was just "up the forestry", turns out I traversed multitudes 3) the tiny piece of paper I found in the Bible.
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 9 January 2022 02:38 (five months ago) link
Oh also when I woke up today I found this written "chase yirsel son, finish up your compendium of left-handed bassists", I AM COMPILING NO SUCH COMPENDIUM so my only guess is that is meant for song lyrics or poetry
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 9 January 2022 02:43 (five months ago) link
wearing a t-shirt says "emo-adjacent", that's also a scribbling I need to put in something
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 9 January 2022 02:56 (five months ago) link
i really enjoyed reading that! "also my life is one big forest" is something i will remember, hahaha
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 16:58 (five months ago) link
as far as workrate goes, i'm in a weird temporary thing right now for the next year or two where i don't have a job and i spend my time doing whatever the fuck i want, all the time. it's incredibly self-indulgent and i've only getting to do it by obliterating every dollar i've ever put in any location
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 17:02 (five months ago) link
for example, i have a list of TO DOs that are getting more urgent - your payments are failing, your prescription is ending, your insurance hasn't started, etc. but instead i'm going to spend the rest of this morning drinking my coffee and working on my baseball poem, because fuck you only live once
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 17:03 (five months ago) link
also j h m i appreciate your use of capital letters and you sense of parenthetics (in this thread it is ok and good to make up words)
gonna do a quick test to see if this works, using the formatting...
Jonah was tossed overboard and Jesus walked upon a sea of expectations and Kurt Vonnegut’s reminding me so it goes, it’s overflowing, the need for emptiness to continue on as your body craves activity blood vessels carrying oxygen and nutrients
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 17:55 (five months ago) link
A Dead Armed Pitcher is Not Yet a Man
The path of a pitched baseball can be curv or sl ing urv ing tnarrow or a l lcutt n ing or k u arc's ckl the f ing bends a the wind l lslid ing or drop p ing like a sick stomach having just reached the top of a rollercoaster ride that screams like a rocket until the bottom falls out of it and comes to the most sudden stop
Instead of throwing the ball like any of thatI throw it right down the middleas hard as I canMy ass is handed to me in front of an audience
I grunt when I throw because they asked me tobecause if I don’t they’ll ask why I didn’tbecause they thought it would add a couple miles per hourto my cartoonishly slow and extremely hittable deliveriesThe other kid grunts back as he slaps a loud smack The crowd roars because our team is away and they are safe at homeWe’re 13 years old, I suckedI got roughed up on the usualbut our team had no reliable bullpenso they left me in to soak up the remaining inningsuntil the 10-run rule arrived, the rule of mercy
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 18:55 (five months ago) link
Pool
Movies on black and white tvs in barroomsFred Astaire smiles and a man plays a fluteI was watching him dance in a musical on mute
When a coquette with a curly qsticks three quarters into a table which removesa stop inside of it and prompts sixteen balls to click together as they roll down a slope to her waiting hands
If I’ve seen it twenty times here, I’ll see it againbut I’ve never anything resembling thisshe takes the 6 ball and puts it in one coat pocketthe 4 ball is flipped up in the air as the 9 ball is touching the floor and now it seems like everyone’s staring at her
Cue ball in her left hand, 8 ball in her rightthe green felt under the hanging billiard lighttinted with oranges and yellows and grime
She wound up like a pitcher in the bottom of the 9thlike an old-timey pitcher with the long-winded wind-upWe all saw where she was aiming and where this was going
He started running toward the door when she finally launched itwhere his body had been only a second beforethe mirror exploded and the shattered glass scattered quickas his shadow was seen down the corridorShe grabbed the coat he left behind and walked outsidewith a flick of a cigarette
Later that night as the owner cleaned up and grumbled about the cost of pool ball replacementsthere was something that caught my eyea clear view to the sky, ripped through the ceilingthe size of a cue ball, when did she make that happenwhat else does she make happeni’ll take a manhattanshe paid less than a dollar to make things plainthat’s a good deal in most centuries
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 22:44 (five months ago) link
You lads <3
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Sunday, 9 January 2022 23:32 (five months ago) link
Oh you're "on the spectrum"?We're all on the "spectrum" that's what makes it a spectrumBut some of us use it as a synonymFor "I Act The Dick On The Internet"
Some of us get pennies threwed at our headIn those horrific high school corridorsBut (bosie up, I'll give you a callback)You can feed your family off the subsequent coins
No, we don't use that termIt's ugly, pointed, dismal and tawdryDon't listen to me, a Doctor will tell youBut that doesn't appear on your 5 year plan
It's like Peel saidon first play of New PuritanIF YOU THINK IT'S ABOUT YOU... IT'S ABOUT YOULet's just go back to bed
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 01:14 (five months ago) link
6 years into my 5 year plan, and I'm not where I said I'd beSo I live my life in Comic Sans, a forced attempt at levity
3 years on this sofa and still haven't got no sleepBut I live my life in Papyrus, cus I'm ~mystical and deep~
Had my eyes closed when you wrote that note, but I took a sneaky peekTry to live my life in Futura, up to date and somewhat sleek
So next time you need to move your shit just give me a shoutI'm whatever font but Sans Serif, nae fucking about
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 01:35 (five months ago) link
Sorry, that one is pretty bad, closer to a party game than a poem, but this is a safe space, right?
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 01:37 (five months ago) link
I wrote a poem about my REDACTED but then it seemed too TW-ish to post so I replaced every use of the word REDACTED with REDACTED and now it seems creepily sexual? But in a humorous way so here yis go:
There is no honour in this townBut there are a lot of REDACTEDmostly plastic, yellow and blackhow can I respect you with that toy in your hand?
My REDACTED was my father's REDACTEDMaybe his father's REDACTED before? I dunno, we don't speakThe REDACTED is my father now
Stanley 99E, for whatever that's worthOne side half decayed, but then increasingly shinyAt the top end, rubbed by my fingersAs I grasp it in my pocket
The other side, only the tip is burnishedWhere my thumb residesThe knife hides secretly as I listen to your tiresome anecdoteWaiting for the bigoted punchline
My brother visited my motherWhipped out his REDACTED, to prove he's a big manI just stood back, smirkedKnowing I had the superior REDACTED
And when I sleep tonightI shall hold the cat against my chestBut the REDACTED will be in reachJust in case
It resides on the other side of the bedVacant, except for the REDACTEDBut the REDACTED's presence reassures meBecause I live in REDACTEDTOWN
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:03 (five months ago) link
Fuck I missed one
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:05 (five months ago) link
Better:
The other side, only the tip is burnishedWhere my thumb residesThe REDACTED hides secretly as I listen to your tiresome anecdoteWaiting for the bigoted punchline
My brother visited my motherWhipped out his REDACTED, to prove he's a big manI just stood back, smirkedKnowing I had the superior REDACTEDAnd when I sleep tonightI shall hold the cat against my chestBut the REDACTED will be in reachJust in case
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:07 (five months ago) link
And that time somehow I deleted a verse break, but I'm not pasting it thirdwise
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:09 (five months ago) link
I’m out of milk, out of butter, and eggsBut I don’t think I’ll be headed to the supermarket todayI‘ve eaten and smoked, I’m partly dressedI haven’t washed the dishes yetI’ll be broke soon if I can’t sell somethingand I just broke another french pressit fell with a cracking splash into the sinkas I closed a kitchen cabinetMy pointy elbows poked it off the ledgeI’ve been making a lot of clumsy accidentsand it all started after I started wearing glassesnow I have three plastic plungers and zero carafes
― Karl Malone, Friday, 14 January 2022 17:05 (five months ago) link
Not all messages are displayed: show all messages (371 of them)Can someone tell Batman why not?!?Reply to: pers-164487✧✧✧@craigsl✧✧✧.o✧✧Date: 2006-05-25, 8:25AM EDTcan someone tell Batman why not?!?Why he can't luv Batgurl? Why can't he luv Batgurl? What's wrong with luving Batgurl?Thanks! kisst plus kisses for Batgurl* this is in or around manhattan* yes -- it's ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests164487171
can someone tell Batman why not?!?
Why he can't luv Batgurl? Why can't he luv Batgurl? What's wrong with luving Batgurl?
Thanks! kisst plus kisses for Batgurl
* this is in or around manhattan* yes -- it's ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
164487171
― The 25 Best Songs Ever Ranked In Order (Deflatormouse), Monday, 17 January 2022 02:09 (five months ago) link
There was a quiet family in a crooked landand a series of bad hands which came to surround themThey lived within a kind of bewildermentbut thought they were outside of itOne day the heavy fog fell on their porch at dusk
They were watching the oranges and bluesand noting the range of lavender hues on viewbut mostly they were listeningto cicada waves piling up on each other picking up the patterns in their rhythms andgetting their whole story and then somethe decayed phrases phasing and fading in and outpapering over the seams of the loopso there are no beginnings andno endings
only an old dog’s tail which keeps wagging every which way smelling like wet grass shavingsCome and get it while it’s still hotA person that never really wasTheir family lives on the corner of a blockYou might find near the end of the bookas a form of epiloguewhen the rising tension has been resolvedwhen the plot no longer thickensThey see their friends and warmly thank themIt’s as cold as the dickens out there, isn’t itI guess some things never change, do theyThese are the ones we come home tothe ones who have been missing usThat’s the story we like to tell ourselvesnot how it really was
The quiet part has been said quite loudlyCan we roll the credits now?Can we hear an old favorite in a new arrangement?We know something’s wrongbut we don’t have the same explanation for itbut do we have to have the same explanation?I remember when we didDo we at least agree that the sun has gone downNobody says anythingWe could all use a breather
When we step outside the shadows are detachedfrom the objects they used to representthey fill the valleys with a sense of dreadand grow strongest where there is no light at allI think they’re leading us to the bottom of a welland I’m strangely compelled to go along with their planto put a lid on me to be covered up and let it sink inthat I don’t have the faintest sense of what I’m dealing withthe window is closingPurple and black and darker still until the chill of my breath is the only thing that’s movingSomething small to take full account of
I’ll speak to you in the morningthe rustling wind under your door, whisperingthat something inevitable is approaching
― Karl Malone, Friday, 21 January 2022 05:16 (five months ago) link
King’s Highway
I saw a dog at a bus stopbut she wasn’t waiting and neither was anyone elseshe ran through the repair shop’s lotand everyone was moving away or staringShe worked her way a bit down the blockAnd was soon back in the traffic all the tires squeaked but no one honkedshe weaved through the cars likewater through a sieve andwound up west of the King’s Highway
I watched all of this in horror from the driver’s seat of my car from the very center of the same King’s Highwaytraffic rushing toward me from the left and away from the righttrapped from all sides in a left hand turn lane, waiting, having to wait, how long could it stay greenshe was running out in front of my wheels
some of the cars began to come to a stopI looked for anyone who was running toward the dogand found someone holding a leashher hands were in the air, frozen like me it seemed
The dog was back out in the streettire squeaks and still no honkingI put on my right-turn signaland felt the seat belt sting against my neckas my right hand gripped the passenger headrest
like thin rice noodles squeezing through a colanderI couldn’t believe I made it through the moving automobile lines and off of it to a taco bell parking spotand immediately leapt out of my car like a fool who still remembers to lock the door with aremote key while scanning the periphery
I ran down the street to the person with the leashAre you the ownerYes, her name’s NalaWhich way did she goI knew the answer before she answeredI saw itNala had turned off the King’s Highway down an alley
My black jacket made rapid plastic swishing noisesI was wearing gray mesh allbirds shoeswith gray pants and a gray shirtmy hair was lavender and yellow and orange and brownI’m a complete mess, I know itI took off, completely
She was looking at me, she kept looking back at mewhile still barreling down the alleyI turned the corner and ran like the T-1000that I used to be, for about a minuteprobably closer to thirty secondsit was a longer sprint then I can remembersince the pandemicBC AD BCE CEbefore and afterwhen meeting people was easyNala was on a leash and now we can’t find herbut I’m on her tracks, the only one with the sensor
I couldn’t catch my breath, I was pantingI went over the fence and through the back gatethere are no woodsthe alley was grass, then dirt, then concreteNala stands at a pass and looks both waysShe instinctively manuevers t-bones at top speed
Somehow I’m at the main street, the person holding the leash says to me, Her name’s NalaI’m EmmaShe won’t come to meShe knows we’re putting her awayA postal worker overhears usand is filled with disgustWe are one of the obstacles in her dayand I see the leashholder’s face is filled with bruised spotsEmma, she’s laughing and her eyes are emptyNala’s running toward the trainyardI keep chasing
the same landscape, again and againthe gas station, the restaurant, the intersectionthe tire change chain, the telephone lines hanging overthe cars, everywhere cars, starting the carsstarting the story in a car, gradually exiting a careveryone else is in a car, or otherwise waiting for somethingThis is a Thursday afternoon, this is a thousand placesthis is a hero with a thousand facessitting in a car
I almost caught herI was out of breathshe was down the blockabout 200 feet off and I calledNala! Nala, please! The same words from before but with a different texturenow I was down and Nala was the young pupmore than ready to run for another hourNala, please, Nalaand she came to me with her leash dragging on the ground behind herI could see the whites of her eyesin the prime of her prime of her primeand no discipline she came within 5 feet and I jumped the gunwith no discipline, I missed
I reached for the leash but it was beyond my capabilitiesand I saw it disappear down another alleythere was a girl watching and she askedis that your dog?and i said it’s not my pooch but I’m helpingand felt so silly and I sprinted again, off
I never did find herI was eight blocks away from my carI walked back. to my car. the car, the car.
I ordered 2 cheesy bean burritosI was out of breath andforgot to wear my maskand the man at the window hated meI thinkI never found her, I ran out of breath
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 29 January 2022 23:32 (five months ago) link
The street is cold the dawn is gray my heart says no but my head says stay
― calstars, Saturday, 29 January 2022 23:45 (five months ago) link
What a mess.What a horrible mess.
The rest of it, shortly to follow.
Where to begin?
The ending started as a walkwith talk of the “immediate future”.
It started in the garden of Eden.Adam dreamed of an Eveand was relieved of some of his burdens.He needed help and they felt no shame.
Dead end street.
The people in the steeple are dying to meetthe one-winged angel with mangy hair and sores on his feetto be blinded, to be brought to their kneesonce and then twice again.
Dead end street.Dead end street.
People are dying here on Dead End Street.
Here is the rest:
It’s a mess and we’re out of time.An archeologist digging through our wreckmight be disappointed with what they find.
They won’t find these wordslong since windsweptthe way we werethe way you arecannot be capturedI wonder what I have leftand when to leave
I am starting to believe in some thingsthat didn’t make much sense before
― Karl Malone, Thursday, 3 February 2022 01:23 (five months ago) link
I love your poems Ztbd
― assert (matttkkkk), Thursday, 3 February 2022 01:44 (five months ago) link
How is it when I walked around BrickfieldEveryone thought I was Doogie?Teenage girls on the street: "HEY DOOGIE!"Shouts from high windows: "WHERE YE HEADED DOOGIE?"I asked Fiona, who lived nextdoorShe said "no joke, you're a deadringer for Doogie"So apparently I have a doppelgangerNever crossed his path
Malin moved, Fiona died, I stopped walking those streetsBut I still think of the people I metThat middle-aged guy dressed up for karateI paused on the pavement, bowed for him, a mental gong hitThere was no one there to confirm my comedic skillsExcept the child who asked me if a had a fagI said "yes, thanks", and showed him, ALSO HILARIOUSI was wasted on that estate
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 16 May 2022 13:23 (one month ago) link
FasetiousnessCome take a piece of thisCome teach me how to spellPretend you're doing well
I like your wobble, sometimes subtly encourage itNextdoor blatantly cheers on the shimmyCurtis frequently tussles with his one true best friendI love them both, but maybe one more than the other
DON'T. MAKE. ME. CHOOSE.
In a flip between heating and eating, I chose drinkingSeemed like the best of both worlds at the timeIt's good that your siblings are increasingly politicisedBut your mother needs to not be on facebook
Yon Kid smirked, said I only write of "knives and mothers"Not true, I frequently mention you tooBut next time he retunes my guitar to some weird shitI'll stab his maw with a knife, then maybe write about it...
This poem is called QUAGLIARELLA, for ReasonsCome hereSit on my sofaAnd try to talk me out of it
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 16 May 2022 17:06 (one month ago) link
Dusty pockets, bottle rocketsDoublecheck what's on the docketFemale, about 9 years too young, she needs to not apologiseCount her cats, ignore Twitch chatHallucinate more vampire batsSix steps from the stairway is the best place to hypothesizeN-n-n-nineteen is somewhat greenBut she's been on the café sceneSquinted at her wrists, clean of slashes and/or needlemarksA litany of past mistakesAnd Gochugaru chili flakesReverberate throughout but I knocked it out the park
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Tuesday, 17 May 2022 01:04 (one month ago) link
(the answer to your first question: my little brother) Sorry about when I threatened Kid's motherIt was a jokeI would NEVERNEVER, I SAY!In fact I'll name my next-but-one cat Kid's government nameCus, y'know...I love himY'know?(also his mother)
(in anticipation of your next question: KOSTAS)
V.'s getting pissed off at the words that I send her"Why don't you just MARRY HER then?"Cus she left like THREE YEARS AGO!She's prolly in London, most everyone isNot everything I write is contemporaryI thought that's how poetry worksWhat do I know?But if you see her, tell her I miss herHer name starts with an AFirst time I went to that shithole alone I slept on a sofa myselfIn the room of a guy whose name started with BI jokedly grumbled "I was told these streets were paved with gold..."Maybe I'll call him, I've still got his detailsTell him to look out for a girl who's name starts with an AOtherwiseJust tell the penguins me and my sister said hi
(...ictoria. NO MORE QUESTIONS!)
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Tuesday, 17 May 2022 01:57 (one month ago) link
Try to clear my mindBut the puns return againHonkin’ on bobo
― Agnes, Agatha, Germaine and Jack (Willl), Tuesday, 17 May 2022 02:16 (one month ago) link
All eyes turn to me when the mediator asks me what I thinkI just tip my head back to get the last dregs of the drinkThat's the only reason I notice the stains on the ceilingThey somehow give me power to explain just how I'm feeling
You've met my father, eh? Well tell me what route to followYou're Lobby McCuntface, and I claim ALL THE AMERICAN DOLLARSCome summer and Gala week I'll lay it all down on some duckBut if that boy's on the bridge again I guess we'll be shit out of luck
Pop Quiz Hotshot! What comes in flurries? Snow, and... blows?What else could I expect today? Who knowsSmall mercies, at least there's ice for the swellingAnd sledging later, and exaggerated stories for the telling
Brandy/Coke in plastic bottles, a natural chillbox on the groundKid takes one big swig and promptly sprays it all aroundCan't be a spit-take, I've been assured I'm not that funnyMaybe he's just sharing the wealth, like his maw does with my money
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Friday, 20 May 2022 21:57 (one month ago) link
Cops down the close today, chapped front and back and peered in windowsThen walked back out slowly, questioning the biddiesYoung Laura was far too excited, leaned out the window, followed it like Love IslandOr Wagatha Christie or whatever, all I know is that cushion will need cleaning"Boy stays there is dead" she said, maybe, or wanted for somethingI spent the afternoon trying to recall if the tenant had changedCus all I recall of that house is the dog who tried to repeatedly kill my catChased him back home and jumped at the window, snarling and droolingEach time eventually his owner came down the lane to drag him homeA cheerful "sorry!", like oh deary me, it's happened againLike as if he'd dropped crumbs on my carpetAs opposed to try to murder my best friend
Whatever's going on in there it'd take numerous bodiesTo jump into the top 3 village dramas1. pub explosion 2. impaled cyclist 3. "gun siege"Actually I take it back, fuck that last one
That time some cars got keyed in some domestic shandybang?More dramatic than "gun siege"When the councillor didn't turn up to judge the dog show?More dramatic than "gun siege"When I spilt Swedish meatballs out that amazingly tasty wrap, and they bounced right down the front of my second best Busan Giants baseball shirt? More dramatic than "gun siege"If that boy has fell asleep and just isn't answering the door?Eh, prolly statistically exactly the same drama as "gun siege"
The worst thing about "gun siege" to me(not that girl who missed her birthday party, no one was turning up anyway, cus she stunk of piss, and her house stunk of dog)But the daughter of the perpetrator, crying next day in schoolCus the elder girls were giving her grief
That was fucked upI can't pass her in the street now without that flashing through my head
But point is, if that dog owner still lives in that house down the closeI've wished death on that boy repeatedlySicced the minature demons with their deathrays on him (never worked)So if it is the same boy, and he is dead in there...
Good.
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 21 May 2022 22:31 (one month ago) link
"SPINELESS"?!? Fuck you I'm all spine, it's just painfully crookedi came in fourth that one time, why is that still relevant?OK I don't "own" a baby, but I held one onceIt worked out FINE, why is your pinched brain attitude entranching on my territory?
Summatsummat bout yerma, let's try this: SSSSSHHHHHH!I recall you waltzing with me round this (yes) pretty small roomDid you actually grow multiple inches in your twenties?Also, when did the Irish learn to speak Italian?
Swirlyswirly, it's (hmmm) possible we'll both get out aliveAre we picking corners now? I only brought one bucketBut when you're pegging it down that street, remember to thank meJust stop, catch your breath, think of me, and whisper "thanks..."
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 22 May 2022 01:44 (one month ago) link
I like your poems, Jonathan
― Dan S, Sunday, 22 May 2022 01:51 (one month ago) link
Your socks are RED and PIRATE, so double luckyI put "DARE TO DREAM!" in the groupchat, but that was pure postureIt was for the benefit of the youngers, whose brains are still mushy and impressionableI think it's important to leave some fingerprints on there
Really tho, you heard which song was playing when you walked through the front door"I Think It's Going To Rain Today"You tried to distract me with talk of various versionsBut c'mon, in this household it's Judy Collins, for now and til eternity
I'm not good with facial expressions, we've discussed this beforeThe cheatsheets from Jigsaw were less than uselessBut that's concern, right? I've seen it a lot recentlyLast time from youknowwho, followed with a verbal "are you alright?"
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 22 May 2022 12:32 (one month ago) link
No the Ragdolls don't need a website, the whole folderol's 79% (plus/minus) imaginaryAnd 3/5 of us can't even spell our nameBut while you're buying domains, can I have Timothytherockband.com?Seriously, you don't get that reference?
You're really far too young for me to be associating withDo you even remember a period when your arm was an arm?Take a lap round the estate(with a lighter that actually works, I'm not a monster)
I remember when vaping was a different conceptEvery fucker had that same wooden thingWith that same shitty platitude wrote on the backMines prolly in that drawer there, I'll leave it you in my will
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 22 May 2022 13:20 (one month ago) link
Sorry, can I append the following to the preceding:
That girl you brung in? Sat on my sofa saying nothing?I'm afraid to ask her ageBut the way she holds her hand over exactly half her faceSeems like an important statement, if I can only decipher it
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 22 May 2022 13:36 (one month ago) link
IN MEDIAS RES: I'm crouched on the linoMy stomach retches two or three more timesNothing comes out except... I think it's bile?Bright yellow like egg yolk, mind them funcy eggs?
Slowly raise up, check my legs are still workingCarefully place a single square of paper downRinse my mouth with... VODKA? Fuck has my life come to?Make sure everyone sees my teeth as I walk back in
Crouch by the records, as an excuse to crouchPretend to scan the spines, as if I don't know them by heart"Inspector Norse again?" comes the cry from the cheap seats"No" I lie, pulling literally whatever's where my finger landed
It was a Numero comp of gospel musicWe all sat there in silence til both sides played outIt was really cool, but that night I imagined everyone lying in bedPondering exactly why I picked that specific record
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 22 May 2022 20:31 (one month ago) link
Frankly Kid, I disagreeWe've reached the point in the year when I need to go visit your auntieSit in her backyard, smoke a few cigarettes, unload everything onto the slabsI know she'll not hug me, just hesitate then pat my head
That's all I ask for
I deliberately won't preannounce my arrivalCus I feel bad when she lays out the big spread2 pots of coffee and an ashtray, I'm setFind sneaky banknotes in my jacket pocket after I've left
That's not necessaryShe's no more well off than me
The wind hits my face as I turn down the lane to the harbourDetour past the Bamse statue, tip my hat, if I'm wearing oneInhale the chinese fumes as I scuttle through the tunnelOh they've got a sign now, good for them
Never going in there againThey will ask me about Someone Dead, that's too upsettingAlso their menu is far too lengthy for my feeble mind
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 22 May 2022 21:14 (one month ago) link
Fucking 2 decades younger than me, apparentley 2 decades smarter than meLike, mimicked my groan, mimicked my body languageThe same two fingers pointed at the same screenTbh, she's prolly fucking hilarious on a day-to-day basis
HOW MANY CHILDREN HAVE WE LEFT OUTSIDE?I didn't care til she bust out that singsong voiceFuckit, let's feed EVERY SINGLE ONE of themYou gunna make tempura batter?
OH WOW, SHIT, I'M EXPECTED TO DO THIS?YES I'M AWARE I'M BETTER AT IT THAN YOU!No problem, I just want it documented in a book:"Timothy Fed The Children.""Jennifer just stood and watched."
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 22 May 2022 22:55 (one month ago) link
Oh yeah this morning, when my mother walked inMy dick was in your hand, we immediately broke apartI somehow developed a deep interest in that stack of boardgames thereYou were suddenly making coffee, which I know you're shit atYou sighed three times while she was sat on my sofaShe smoked 4 of my cigarettes, she better fucking pay me backYou sighed a final time as she walked out the doorThen just giggled, I caught Curtis as he walked past, we all just giggledThis afternoon, that time spent on the carpet, the three of us gigglingI forgot the reason, Curtis never knew the reason, we still carried onGiggled til my chest hurt, Curtis eventually got bored and leftMe and you never spoke a word to each other, but eventually we were just gazing in each others eyesJust smirking at this point, but you never looked cuter
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 23 May 2022 00:01 (one month ago) link
One of the cousins visiting from Australia, WOW!Give me some football snark, I have some genuine upper groundI fed you fish pie, AT MY MOTHER'S HOUSE!Like, I genuinelly cooked a fish pie from what was available AT MY MOTHER'S HOUSE!It got late, you whipped out the whiskyCus apparently you'd been on the west coastI forget what distillery, but I just called it "pleaseantly peaty""not peaty at all", you saidAh fuck off ye smug fuckJust cus me & Mark can't afford these bottlesBut then when drinks were taken it all gets political
I said "so yeah, seems better now in Australia, from what I've followed?""Albanese, better than Scomo?" "NO!""They're all EVIL!" "yeah I guess I agree..."It got quite cool when you called for "REVOLUTION!"Less cool when followed up with "...or Demagogue..."I deliberately went out to smoke, missed the end of your sentenceOn reentrance: "what Trump got right..." I had multiple pairs of eyes looking at meIt was only that one hand on my chest, I got it, maybe sit this one outWhen he started some shit about immigrantsMy mother joined in, "both sides" yeah whateverI brought up the Tasmanian genocide, he started fucking fuming at meI lit a fag, walked up the street, sat on my sofa, petted cat, wrote this
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Friday, 27 May 2022 23:54 (one month ago) link
btw SORRY KM, THESE WEDDING FOOTBALL COUSINS TURNED OUT TO BE APPARENTELY MASSIVELY RASCIST! someone bring me hard drugs right now
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 28 May 2022 00:07 (one month ago) link
i hate when that happens! but not your fault.
― Bruce Stingbean (Karl Malone), Saturday, 28 May 2022 00:08 (one month ago) link
So I sat on a sofa, in a weed houseI was half (eh prolly three quarters) cut when I arrivedAnd IT WAS LOVELY! Lots of positive vibesUNTIL! (yeah obv there's an UNTIL!)This kid (NOT Kid, another kid) who (I think?) lived there said something like...Like...(forgive my poor memory, I was half-cut, at least)"It's just words, words can't harm anyone..."
So I went into a rant, can't recall the specifics(cus, well yeah)But it definitely involved the Rwandan genocideAnd multiple references to the use of the word "cockroaches"And machetes, far too many machetesPossibly the holocaust, I forgetbut definitely Ricky Gervais, "Gamergate", JK Rowling and spitTwitter(blehblehbleh, wash your mouth with another tin)
The one thing I remember, the old guy who was the actual tenant(I know he'll be 70 this year, cus he's the same age as My Mother)(I know cus his daughter told me so, fuck is this another tangent? Kill it at birth)(just this one time we were talking about the Rolling Stones in Hyde Park after Brian Jones died and they both NO! NOT RELEVANT!)This guy who was silent all eveningApplauded me at the end of my spielHis son sat there, I could see his cheeks burningI stood up, made some flamboyant gesture and left
Last night I overheard my mother talking to a cousin, in the kitchenOn my way back from the upstairs toiletApologising for me, said "he only sees things in black and white""it's because of his disabilty"I gritted my teeth, went back to the party roomPoured the wine I acquired from eh long storyPondered on that statement tho, even when I got home, yknow she's probably rightBUT I WILL NEVER APOLOGISE
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 28 May 2022 11:03 (one month ago) link
Fuck the Queen, Fuck the PopeAlso fuck the fucks who write "Fuck the Pope"Fuck the children who throw rocks at CurtisIn fact, fuck everyone who isn't Curtis
He maybe has longer legs than meBut is eternally the Little SpoonSinging Kettle in the village tomorrowSome family going, me and Curtis said FUCK NO thank you
That cousin had an objection about QatarNo, not the basic slavery deathsBut apparently one referee is from Rwanda and female SHOCK HORROR!Imma shut up now, maybe die in my sleep
Rubbish cups, squint the buttons look like tinniesCurtis can't keep eyes open, Áine eitherI chucked the Lucky Pirate Socks, worth sum total of fuckall"beacons" yeahnaw, we might burn down your house tho?
(6'1", apparently. pffft...)
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 29 May 2022 00:41 (one month ago) link
Sample and hold? Story of my lifeJust happy to have a younger riding the filter knobWe walk in Pub, That One Lady shouts "IT'S HARD BEING JOHNNY MUMBLE!"I was trying to gauge the sarcasm level before I decided how much offence to take
Some Jacamo Fuck thinks he can criticise my physical being?I caught the eye of my eh Secret Sexual PartnerHe blinked something to me in code, I didn't catch itBut then started fluttering his lashes to the beat of the jukebox
Threw in the occasional cheeky syncopationIt was the cutest thing I've ever seen
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 29 May 2022 23:15 (one month ago) link
In Silencethey’re still waiting
to unlock the gateto the theme park we madeand turn on the rollercoasters just for us
The machines would whir to lifein the dead of nightthe time they prefer to workwhen our bodies are on autopilotwhen our conversation dries up for a while
Our midnight passes indicatewe are visitors from the mindWe shave our hair in the parking lotand float into the park like holograms
Our dim shades look just right underdrooping strands of pale christmas lightstracing the paths of old waiting lines
winding toward the biggest rideswaiting in this emptinesswalking among the deadand what was left for it
you and me, passing between our dreamsand my stomach is somewhere back there in a ceiling
― Bruce Stingbean (Karl Malone), Wednesday, 1 June 2022 18:05 (one month ago) link
I played JUKES in the panto, he had Megadeth lyrics on his sword(personal choice), never helped my backstoryYou shaved my trousers, I guess I'll think on my feetThe bottoms were blown off by FUCKEN CANNONBALL!
North Wales is the land of my forefathersBut the Mearns is the land of three of my four fathersBlack Bart has like a million glossary referencesMy Mother has apparently one, hid her face when the notebook crowd asked Operating on one eye nowWhy? WHY? Ask yer cousin's Plus OneJilly John is now mouthing offAnyone understand French please expain it
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 4 June 2022 22:46 (one month ago) link
MY HOUSE. MY RULES.One of them is DON'T BE BRINGING DEAD ANIMALS IN HERETry to bog me down in semantics about the contents of my fridgeWhatever, but you're not entering holding THATOh OK, you're just gunna sit there on my lawnScaring away... wait... who am I expecting?
I cut every Fascist and Bigot out of my lifeAll I'm left with now is Creeps and BulliesEveryone decent scarpered to LondonEveryone half decent scarpered to GlasgowOut of those left, anyone with a driver's licenceJust fucken DROVE, I guess til they fell in the sea
I've spent time in London, I've spent time in GlasgowThose times were filled with Fascists and Bigots and Creeps and BulliesSo I guess I don't understand the ExodusIf I try harder to be better, could you please come back?Yeah YOU individual, I don't care about the restShow me the list again, I'm ready this time
I mean it.
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 5 June 2022 12:28 (one month ago) link
"Deal with it!"Pure distraction, point then flitThe main problem with your brother's coin gameIs the constant crossing the road
Moue, "who, me?"Barrel of bunting sat there for freePass the Duchy left until it falls in the seaAnd pray nightly it drowns
In high school when asked my solution for our situationI proposed swordfights for the tallest hillsEveryone laughed, I was King For A DayBut now I'm 42 and googling "swords buy uk"
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 5 June 2022 16:23 (one month ago) link
Don't come to me with your teenage bullshitMaybe cut off your ear, that will surely impress herPaint her a picture of some random shitJust don't go out in the fields, they all look like DEATH
I used to see Angels, like full-on actual beingsLurking at bus stops, or memorial fountainsFuzzy shapes, they made my eyes waterIf I looked at them too long
I mean, I called them angels, to give them a nameI am now fully aware that was the onset of mental illnessAnd in my wiser years I know not to point such things out publiclyDoesn't matter, I don't see them anymore
These days it's all about the Black CatsConstantly lurking in my peripheriesA comforting presence, if I don't think too hardForce ghosts of my favourite boys
Face North: DEATH.Face East: DEATH.Face West: give me one good reason(I will never face South)
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 5 June 2022 18:08 (one month ago) link
You walked in the room muttering to yourselfI heard "(somethingsomething), only one left now"But I have no idea what that could be a reference toCertainly nothing related to HERE or ME
"What were you up to last night?" I forget, let's check...Oh, arguing on the internetWith Some [alt-right adjacent] boys, they got no respectFor me or my loved ones
I remember writing those verses for (I assume) youbut I don't remember exactly what I wroteI remember signing some shit for your crew cus they asked me tobut I never knew exactly what I was signing
I'm sure we'll find out eventually
My position was shaky right from the get-goEver met anyone in real life who says "potatto"?Ah fuck it, cut the child in halfI'll take the part flipped the bird as it bled out
Shouting numbers out loud while I'm trying to Deal With ShitYou think it's hilarious, me less soBut that 4/4 THUMP THUMP constant beatHides the fact you only really use one meter
Hides the fact you only really have one master
And a multitude of your other sins
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Friday, 10 June 2022 17:55 (three weeks ago) link
Yeah I'm comfy here, please stop askingThis window points the same direction as minesOK true, I live at a higher elevationSo mibbe keep an eye out for THE FLOOD
Yeah I've warned of THE FLOOD, I'll stop going on now"Is it a metaphor?" Who even knows at this point?But every morning I catch Curtis squinting warily at the skyAnd he knows a thing or two more than you or me
I'll be fine for this evening, hot and cold drinks both welcomeIf I stand and turn I can recognise windmillsBut answer me one thing (phones allowed for this question):When is this rain due to stop?
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Friday, 10 June 2022 19:07 (three weeks ago) link
Hello Glasgow FolkI travelled south to get hereThank you for the pavements firm beneath my feetThank you for the bushes in the park that I will sleep in tonight
Thank you for the secret vodka in the secret shopThe one the they give you when you ask for "the cheap one"Thank You specifically, the one of youse taught me that magic trickI wouldn't have made it without you
Maybe that would've been betterTil these questions started I thought flounder was a fishYou say you never hounded anyone out of anythingYou're hounding pretty heavy right now
You should have some respect for the OCD massesPut a double N in your made-up wordYou're speaking aloud, how do I know that you didn't?I can tell
I CAN TELL
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 11 June 2022 11:57 (three weeks ago) link
Gird Up Thy Loins! Don't give me that shitShort shorts then big shirts is how I grew upStill working on that coal to diamond processI was shaving in a pub cellar (until it blew up)
Long story short, I deboned fourteen chicken thighsMuttered "fail better", cus I couldn't fail worseI walked in the side door, saw your hand on treble twentyBiro cheat codes on your forearm, bleeding through your shirt
I hit on a random til they brung up the flute shitThen whipped medallions out, flashed the broken teethYour partner's from "Melbin", ask them say "Embra"Then punch them in the face, shout WELCOME TO LEITH
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 12 June 2022 21:47 (three weeks ago) link
Medication scarcity is fucking up our day-to-dayYour auntie's youngest still available to meEyeball the youngling whilst ignoring that one thingWe're both flipping coins, I bet we die on the same day
Keep up now son, you genuflect, but I genuinelly just checkedYou're exactly (to the day) ten years younger than meProselytize but tell no lies (I see your father in your eyes)Comparing tattoos (whisper) I got mine for free
Exhalation, procrastination, sceptical of fashy-nationYou have more towels than maneki neko... but it's closeLying on the lino fucked on amaro and vinoI've done a survey, we have more scurvy than most
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 13 June 2022 18:12 (three weeks ago) link
Sorry, that was terrible
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 13 June 2022 18:14 (three weeks ago) link
Lino doesn't rhyme with vino, for a start
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 13 June 2022 18:16 (three weeks ago) link
When you briefly stepped away(to the fridge? to the toilet?)I took a sneaky peek at your notationWritten on graph paper, three colours and so much geometryI heard you coming back and rapidlike took my spot againBut I got itThese days I want you to to know, I got itI don't understand it, but I got it then and I get it nowFuck, I could show my (SCIENTIFIC) guitar solo chartOr my double-sided chord progression wheel(but not before I patent it)
One side major, one side minor
I mind all them righteous rocks you threwI mind when you claimed every word was trueI mind when that guitar was shiny and newMost importantly, I mind YOUYou had a different name thenBut the same offbeat nodThe same involunantary twitchesThe same way you'd glance sidewaysRaise your right eyebrowWhatever goes downI'm still Team You
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 18 June 2022 13:53 (two weeks ago) link
(ok, I woke up to that drunkenshit unsent in the text box, I kinda hate it all, especially the misspelling of involuntary, for once that's not deliberate)
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 18 June 2022 13:57 (two weeks ago) link
I had started on At Last! A Poem About My Cat! but now I'm in a mood and deleted the whole thing. Also had some note about how discussing the opposite of onomatapeia is NOIOSO, it was very clever but I couldn't figure it out
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 18 June 2022 14:03 (two weeks ago) link
The savage youngers close in on my lawnI stay silent, interlock my fingers, drop to my kneesYeah I threatened to kill himBut I added "in Roblox" so I'm legally sound
I'll be walking high street by like latest tomorrow eveSmirk across the pub at the chud fucken narcWave a knife at him through two kitchen windows, that's legal, right?Rope the kids into a Busby Berkeley routine on the tarmac, find a specific charge for that
Pick it up like some Ramsey, drop it like it's FrancoI've got more fingers than my Granda, sitting pretty prettyIf you didn't go full tankie in Disco ElysiumI can't even look at you
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 20 June 2022 09:01 (two weeks ago) link
You've been spielling now for dunno hours, the shadow hit my foot and I stopped listeningI still don't believe Darth Vader killed Martin Luther KingSave your platitudes, I'm Christopher Walken hereLook outside, flash count, 11 enemies and one chainsaw
Eleven faces, twentysummat eyeballs tracking meScarper to the hall, you'll miss me kickflip off the wallYeah that happened. I have a witness! Oh, she passed outWhen she wakes up youse pair can debate the length of my dick
I took a walk round the estate, re-entered to the same BatshitChecked the running time, fuck you're only halfway through!Knives don't require charging, what was I up to?Don't ask, winkyface...
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 20 June 2022 15:00 (two weeks ago) link
Just checking with tu padre, che é vero, che non é veroHow rapid is your brother rotating right now?Same old sammiches, same old quotes from the same old booksIf you continually stand in my room I'll continually raise whatever eyebrows I have left
Cheapish chinos, she wiped the blade on them with a finger to her lipsThen we both plastered on the grin, Simultaneous "HELLO!" as you enteredChecked the fridge, not giving you that, hell, definitely not THATBrew you black coffee, this is a dairy-free house, you heard!
Ned Raggett once said:"I don't believe that radical subjectivity obliberates the platformsso much as creates a series of dispruptions within axioms as chosen"Now, ask me how I recall that word for word?DECADES LATER! I didn't look it up, I swearThat shit is tattooed on my heart...
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Tuesday, 21 June 2022 14:44 (two weeks ago) link
Dammit I realise I fucked up the literal one sentence that I wasn't meant to fuck up. "to be tested within limits as chosen", I thnk the end was
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Tuesday, 21 June 2022 17:20 (two weeks ago) link
Is it time for a redemption arc?Let's me and you talk a walk down the parkI can tell who's at the window without turning round(different bells have different sounds)
Drummie Games, an annual traditionJust keep the shades on, no one knows who I amAfter a point stop explaining to Canadians"Heavy Stone Throwing" is an actual event
I'm holding right til the end of the levelI'm holding this baby til her mammy returnsI'm "Holden Caulfield"? fuck you, am I fuckI'm holding nothing, forget it, I fold
Still better than A Child's Christmas In WalesThat horse skull still haunts me in my sleep
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 25 June 2022 21:48 (one week ago) link
Debate hitboxes with the scurvy kidsTry to not look impressed at the scorpion kicksThe Good Witch blessed me whilst I was lurking on the left wingPearly curl, but in return, never talk to those people again
"finish your thought" sounds more aggressive each time she says itEach time an extra word gets an exclamation markI can take it, I know she's got my backWhen the Nardise close in she's taping a torch to her shotgun
(metaphorically I mean)
"sounds unlikely" I said whilst smirkingThe cops left but that one boy still lurkingImma carve a swastika into his foreheadThen get off on mental incapacity
Or whatever...
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 26 June 2022 17:20 (one week ago) link
First off: that's an exaggerationSecond off: it was entirely justifiedThird off: ok, it wasn't an exaggeration, every word is trueNow I've said it out loud can you please remove the handcuffs?
Why are the neighbours contacting the other neighbours who contact My Mother when I'm away from my house for like four hours?I mean, I know that particular wifey is a KIDNAPPERThe cat can sit outside, it's particulary clement wetherFlick a fag-end in her back garden as a sign I'm home
Day One (yeah I know say that every day)My Mother owns no pearls to clutchWe play "The Xabi Song", it's not called that but we all in unison mutter his name over that other nameAnd when youse all leave I will raise a glass to his memory
But pour nothing outC'mon, that's wastefulCurtis just stumbled and acccidentally hit a certain piano chordIt was the sound of DOOM
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 27 June 2022 11:36 (one week ago) link
Last one is called "Nothing Is On Fire", or "The Dangers Of Playing With Knives", or possibly just "Autism"
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 27 June 2022 11:47 (one week ago) link
So I'm working on a new language, it's kinda latin based mixed with scandi but then transcribed phonetically by a computer, this is what we'll be speaking in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, imagine this coming to you from some RPG NPC:
Noonky partson ventry dakkyDammy undro kwalky sommy si?Yaya, "kee", canfar ulty zaza neyTosi "dungbanny" nen farfaran nenty
Ba septi mes darnar
Undre, drakko, trick, fantis sorly frakken de neyMik prolly mik bondKapshi, tempy venty?
(your clues are the the last line is "did you know, the storm is coming?" and you can see the counting to four line. Work from there)
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Friday, 1 July 2022 22:41 (four days ago) link
This is tough going, trying to write poetry in a foreign language + still keep the flow + also establish new words as needed which must follow the etymological formula. Kansky = maybe. Framty = future. Cordy = remember. I've retranslated "undre" to "preem" as new details emerged. I've wrote 4 lines in 6 hours. I need like 8 more whiteboards and a gofundme.
Foory sol kansky nunky de fooryVoo framty mig, forfanny da heyJully preem, sunnerary por preemyNeme cordy tally por "bank"
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Saturday, 2 July 2022 17:13 (three days ago) link
So I spent all morning trying to translate "numerical midfield superiority" and eventually came up with "siffry park vint", and now I've forgot why that was important. The other thing I got today is "dalto" means "sum", in case that comes up.
― The Speak Of The Mearns (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 3 July 2022 12:03 (two days ago) link
I eat poop for breakfastI eat poop for lunchand when it's time for dinneron poop I munchI love the textureI love the crunchand when I'm feeling fancyI eat poop for brunch
― Being cheap is expensive (snoball), Sunday, 3 July 2022 16:34 (two days ago) link
what were you thinkingwhat were you drinkingwhen you signedon that line
they appeared in your videoyou name dropped themon the radioright on time
how can we trust youseems that you will doanything formoney
product placementpaid for your basementrumpus room