Saturday, 19 April 2014

Half-Wit Blues

Emmy Lou ties
the knots
in a gut wrenching spiral
never so clear
as to who was
her rival.
When button mashed
shirts and
full-fledged lips
kiss and remove
all long lasting riffs
it becomes
A Whole
as to where
it’s gone from.
and where did it come from?
When Spring Cut Leroy
and Cactus Pete
found their instruments
all chillen-na heap
It was fine.
It was fine.
But then Emmy Lou
said with unspoken wisdom
“Take one moment
take a few
and look.
And look at
the fall.
The fog.”
Leroy spent time
working the mine
he said to his fellows
“What is there
for me?
Just leave
me a sign.
Leave me a sign,
And days passed
and ice-storms melt
it was a waste
as it was never
ever, really felt.
The highways sprung
and the watchtowers fled
Spring Cut Leroy
talkin’ to Ed,
he said:
“Don’t bring the time
on a watch, floor, or lime.
Bring it on a wrist
worth the edge of
a sword
between the bread that was
here, all before.
Hesitate, ask, and you shall
through the glass-ed mirror
and the filling cup ball
it just suppose from
the eye
of a deceiver
and cold cotton leader
that the water you looked
for, was not but a litre
and if you knew now
you would never even leave her
while the brain-bats and
children speak, of soft spoken cats
that never inched, if not, for a meter
and the lemon women would
tell you the weather
while sippin on juice
and spring-willowed charcoal
and dust in the eyes
of heavens and hells
that pricked from the lies
of all those who fell
onto their heads, shortly to die
they never knew Ed,
and this is why
I congratulate the man
with electric ties
and slim-buzzard whistles
cokes and ryes
that poured from the glass
like a tear drop in the eye
that fell to the Earth
and became a new high
while it formed in the sea
and went miles wide
you could never receive
what the cotton candy seemed
so eagerly to hide.”

Saturday, 28 December 2013

An excerpt...

An excerpt from:
"Half Asleep Deaths and Melancholy Springs"
by Melancholy Springs [John Doe]

Cool down the jet engines, off board the inner flight. Get into the dimly lit caverns of yesteryear in door-way brimming station papers. The corner was the moment of thought, and where I'd spend most my time, or what I would make believe to be time. Yes, you could say that time stood in a boiling pot of overflowing fireworks. The sax sparked and flood the hall, the sax sparked and flood the dim hallway. Take the cigarette, tap the table, light the work and let god's beacon run through the veins of clockwork energies.

Halt the stop-wilt, halt the wit to stop!

Furlongs and bud-housers spoke through empty veils of chains and rains. It pours onto the hat group, and the outweighed sections. The light section, the brim-detention. It gathers waters into the pool, and sprinkled out of top down taps, and it gathered to the utter sanctity of breast pumped balloon of hydrogens, and nitrics.

I approached the woman, whom looked up through heavens and hells, lighting the cigarette in that everlasting candle. Malanie, my sister Jane, whom spoke without words and became without knowing.

"Wake up, John, wake up. Don't you know the war ended in 1905 and the times to get with, are here and now"

"Don't you know, don't you know"

"No I don't, no, I don't know."

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick

Blasphemous percolators, and gates.
Blasphemous penetrators and rebellions

who kould they be that they kould not become. Well, well, well.

No. No. Stop. OK? Just take a step back, take a step

I had watched the lunacy ravenous burn for over an hour, as it flickered on and on from some past hear-says, and here-nows. I stumbled across the lot, and saw the man I thought was my uncle, he polished the slim-trick Buick Light, and spun the wheels (Suspended by air) and gather rocks and twigs to keep warm at night. He was not my uncle, he was a man without name or history. A man without a face, or a place to call home. He grimaced through thick whiskey stock, and built an ocean on waves. Built a sanctuary on broken ground.


It was time I found a plank-galleon and bludgeoned through thick milk-waters, and muddy drains. The bits grew and hardened, and correlated into a steam-pool that was to become the broth. Peppers and weaved batons. I put it into the cup, and formatted it's interior motivation.

I was going under, down the night-walks. Keeping in step with my eyes, and avoiding the look of passers and posers. The old women look out, other side of night-walk, with their furry companions and back-liggets.

A dog wolf-hounds out across the echo

I keep in step with my eyes... I try not to budgeon, all too much. Walking with Melanie. Who goes on about...

"...and those fuckers need'ta know, these fuckers. And the gates need'ta, the gates need'ta, well open'ta those fuckers, and..."

I keep in step with my eyes. Nod, nod. Gravel up the steps, and clamber doorhandles and stair rails. Open to the smokey interiors that I used to call Reality. I repeat it from memory:

'Duck, there's a plank. Take an extra step, them cable-corded guitars trip ya the fuck up. 28 paces, and 31 breaths. Turn left. Sit. En-fuckin'-joy, ya fuck!"

My eyes blink on auto-capacity. And refill the night. 

I can see again.  

Order the ol' E.W. and chug that fucker down to Hell!. With each swig, the night returns fuller. Fuller.


The guys go at-it, pulggin' and pullin' Ampin' those amps to the rock-aways. I loathed it so much, I couldn't help but enjoy. Rip through the zingers and plug the ear cannal off an over-drive truck. Out the pit and down the stairs. 

I'm back in the room, the bull-pen. Ravaged the storm, pullin' the horns. Gnashing of teeth and all that. Beating the wall, curbin' the chair to the ground with splash mountains of glass shards and billiards that bounce, bounce, bounce my skull. Grappling the fridges mantle, and fumbled for bread scraps and peanuts... Lick my palms, lips, and scratching my scalp clean off and batting it to the floor as I lay in an abandonment of my inner psyche, 

wondering who turned out the lights.

Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Dear readers

Haven't been updating my top 100 list. Mainly because I decided to scrap the idea of doing write ups. I've been watching new movies, and re-watching old ones, and finding myself wanting to change the list up. What i will be doing instead of write ups, is putting up my list under the "TOP FILMS" section on the left, and I will be doing write ups for my Top 10, which will be coming out for the next few days or weeks, we'll see. I have a top 102 right now, I removed some I didn't want, and added others, just a bit of reworking... But I will have them up as soon as I get pictures of the posters to put up. Until then, here's a video of a tap dancing chicken

Just kidding... you'll have to play that one in your head, I'm not even going to look for a tap dancing chicken, with fear of the fucked up stuff I may find.


Thursday, 17 October 2013

Top Films: #80-71


Seems to me, Robin Hood is better when he’s a fox. Kind of ups the cool factor, and makes it stylish. Plus Maid Marian has a Julie Andrews vibe in this one, and that’s always good. In fact, all of the characters look really cool... The film is filled with action, comedy and despair... What more could you want?


This was probably the third Godard film I had seen. While it is impressive, it more goes to show that even his most basic films, have some odd aspects going for them that make them into a slightly better film that it would be in someone elses hands. The way the characters interact, the way it is essentially about nothing (while including a story) the way it plays with the laws of reality in some aspects. A good effort to be sure, and just plain fun.


This is one stylish film. Everything is pristine. Burt Lancaster is amazing, and this is the best film I have seen of his, to date (not like I’ve seen many...) It becomes more and more clear to me that a lot of these older films were willing to be rather intense (while I used to think they were all rather light), and sure enough for the most part, the better ones are.


It’s easy to get caught up in this one, and see it as a simply depressing look at... everything... But the truth is, it’s a bit more than that. It toys with a few ideas, and mainly follows them to the utmost worst extent they can go, but I respect that. While Charlie Kaufman normally misses the mark, for me, this one I could at least get something from it. His films are normally greasy, and this is no exception, but this does have something to offer that, seems more productive than the rest.


Really just a strange little movie, and absolutely hilarious at times. Quite different from the rest of Scorsese’ mix, but it really is cool. Surreal in an ordinary sense... Which is to say, it is very odd, but there is nothing unnatural about it. Really dig this one, and I’ll have to watch it again, soon. 


Quick paced and fun. And a complete disregard for anything that matters. I think that sums it up. It’s a good effort by Godard (as everything is) but it just doesn’t match up with some of his later films, I feel. Still has some beautiful poetic moments, and it keeps it all rather simple. Neat characters and story that doesn’t really matter. All good.


Pierce Brosnan deserves to be in more movies like this (ie: Good ones). It would’ve been cool if he was Bond a bit longer, but this film really is just an extension of that... kind of an older washed up James Bond. This film has cool vibes through-out, and is a lot of fun. 


Awkward and hilarious. I don’t find it particularly unsettling, but I do see how it can be viewed that way. DeNiro is nuts, and entertaining, and delivers one of his best performances. Jerry Lewis is quite good as well.



Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews on a strange and animated adventure. Sounds pretty awesome.


Phillip Baker Hall and John C. Reilly hang out. It has some of those wonderfully ‘composed’ moments, where the music carries whatever is happening in a prolonged trance, that I am very fond of. Based slightly on PTAs short: Cigarettes & Coffee (which is quite awesome, in itself) Love how it starts, and love how it ends.