Try It During A Daylight Moon

Try it on my own,
She sang the tune.
Manipulation pulls me
Towards it.

I went, I saw, I chatted,
I left. I drove away.
It was mine but I
Did not want it.

It was what she, he, her
Them, et al expected,
Presumed, decided,
For me, of me.

Fuck that

I want my own course,
Repeating what I'm saying
Lengthening my prose,
Annoying everyone.

But not me.
Content, sure, knowing.
If it goes wrong,
So be it, I'll learn.

Nothing before suited,
Not ungrateful.
But not mine, tried to.
Not never will be.

So new course,
Dusted off the tasty dust.
Baked my idea,
Kneaded it.

Need to forget,
I'm allowed,
To be ridiculous.
And a coward.

I feel my path
Not the lazy one.
Staying true an' poorness,
is hell scary.

Baker and a Tasty Dilemma

What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with my life. I'm nearly 30, unemployed, no qualifications, loads and loads of retail management experience but sick of retail after 13 years!!!!!

While I've been unemployed I've looked into various things, like minding animals, cooking, baking, reading, photography.... Just to see if there is a more creative aspect to my personality that I could exploit to make some seriously needed money!

After every experience I feel elation, purpose and drive. I'm searching, surfing, exploring each individual profession but everywhere I turn there seems to be a road block.

At the moment I'm thinking about looking into becoming a baker. To display the shallowness of my impulsiveness I just baked my first ever bread today! And it was slightly cheating because it was a ciabatta mix from Lidl. But it involved mixing, measuring and harshly of all: kneading.

Well let me tell you I kneaded like a motherfucker for 12 whole minutes. On YouTube Julia Childs and her pal kneaded their dough 850 times. Fuck that! I lied to my mother that I did it for 20 mins.

I must say that my mother displayed the kneading tachnique to me. She watches enough UKTV Food channel to know.

So kneaded bread needed a rest and so did I, so I went for a cigarette and some Facebook time. Researched some plaiting techniques and decided on a fancy technique called pain d'epi (wheat stalk bread) where you roll your dough into a long oblong shape. Take scissors and cut a triangle into dough (don't cut through) and turn to the right, cut again lower down and turn to the left, and repeat. What you get is a wheat stalk effect. Mine looked like a stalk of saggy old lady tits. So I changed the form to a fat plait.

Another rest for 45 mins, and bang into moist oven for 25. Next came heaven. Fresh bread was amazing and oh so so pretty!!! We did the knock test, all good. Had my homemade bread with some pate and some white wine. Amazing! And everyone agrees, so naturally with two peoples praise I've decided to pursue a career as a baker.

You see the problem is that four days ago I was passionately becoming a veterinary nurse after dog sitting for 27 hours.

So I can't tell if my brain and heart have caught up to each other so I've decided to do the only rational thing which is to bake more bread. Not just because I now have a passion for the art of the flour but because I've eaten all the bread and I want more!

Limbo. Baby. Limbo.

I live beneath the sea,
The creatures crawl far above me.

I might as well be here,
Sitting pretty, music on, waiting.

Can he be real?
I really don't know.

Only time will tell,
We've yet to meet.

That's why it seems absurd,
Crazy, mixed, impulsive emotions.

He's a genius, a fixer of things,
can he fix me? make me..?

What effect will I have on him?
I want to create love, passion and the rest.

We'll see. Chaos or Nirvana.
Lets see. We'll see.

This painting on the wall

This painting is one of many upon the wall,
Some hirsute, some pretty, some yet to hear their call.

Post Everything

After everything is the wish of what you meant,
to happen.
The delicacy, the rapture all remixed in the mind.
If you feel the love, it will come,
unabated to you.
Slippery.
Thats how I see it.

I know these malarky aint what
its supposed to be.
But sometimes malarky and its
disco like flashing.
Is the key to salvation,
Sure what is love but that?

Is not love mainly the reassurance
of the theatrics?
The be all and all and all
and bollox,

I've loved many a man,
By sight of nipples and chest wig,
alone.
Dirty bitch me.

Genesis

There is a new planet
forming in my head.
It is one of comfort
& a cool air about it.

This space in my life,
This is a dot in the grand.
What is to come,
There is so much more.

My life is for the taking,
I dont think it will be long.
before its over,
Lets have a good time!

The demons are in the corner,
I can dismiss or
accept them, conquer them.
Demolish, corrupt.

There is a light,
I dont think it is god.
But there is more.
I am sure of it.

Love beckons,
Climbing up that mountain.
Living, breathing the same
Being together, mostly apart.

The clouds swirl around,
where is the keystone?
The future needs one.
A building block.

New life, new destiny.
Is it in him, Am I him?
Whenever I am going,
I think the course is discourse.

Wrapped in ivy,
Vines to the damsel,
I will be freed,
Or die trying.

The Well of French Serial Killers

How to you keep yourself fabulous?
When next to a french person,
Who talks in poetry
even of the worse things.

Think of a noir, a french noir.
You're to fall in love with the nearest lunatic.
You've been told to do so.
The lunatic narrates it.

The lunatic breeds at the brewery,
On the evil yeast of doom.
This is no doom for the larks.
This doom is everlasting.

Forever to be pulled back from the gloom
of doom.
Cant even write a paragraph
Without falling into it.

There is always my persona,
The personality behind each venture.
That betrays the fierce and the stupid.
The stupid comes clear most.

But I can see the light,
The stupor has been weakened.
It grabs me so much more less.
Lest it be gone soon.

Oh then what a life,
The dramatic love should flood
the barriers of my existence
and dwell there, for a while.

The Empty Candy Plastic Container

These things that hold the most.
The inhospitable things that poison and carry
Your mind, your obsession.
The smoke, fumes, melancholy tunes.

 
In my container, it holds the secret,
The silent whisper of contentment,
of said numbness, confusing and such.
Little things grate the mind on the grater.

Don't confuse the fusion of the minds.
Profound statements are bullshit.
Bullshit is a profound statement.

Mind you dont fuse the confusion.

The Many Moons of Jupiter

In this restless time of doing nothing,
I look around my room and I quiz
The many deep ends of my heart.
They respond in numbness.

I can walk a lot of miles,
Beats drumming through my head.
Pushing me, driving me, forging me
Into what? Not what is me.

What I feel is not me, the desire
To be better, clean, moral and good.
The destructive force wants to hurt.
The force wants to weaken.

Out and away to Glasnevin someday.
These hands dont carry those forgotten
weights of dead. The dramatic the norm.
Oh those who folly love and death.

virtual lover

I've met him all before,
Twisted beauty of what I want
Twisted as I never know what that is
He can be many things but he becomes the one
Thing, that, this, it all that is all required for the heart.

What of this heart,
I fear it,
Loose.
Beggars have knocked on its door,
Beggars who deserve better.
But I made them feel,
What they were.

Too good, or me too bad
for them. Confused.
I is. Backwards, english is
disgusting. Womb hatred.

Emptiness is where I find it,
want so much more,
like the rest have it.

Dont I deserve it?

Redundant

I've been made redundant.

Like:
Cassette Tapes
Paraffin Lamps
The horse and cart
The Steam Engine
The Car Phone
Bertie Ahern (no relation)(thank christ)
The Delorean
Tomorrow's World (loved that show)
Charlie Dimmock
Religion (I'm hoping. any day now)
Sega Mega Drive
The Public Telephone Box
The word Bourgeois (so seventies)
Tenemants 
Small Pox

But I hope that I'm vintage
like:
all of the above (except small pox cause that was just nasty)

Shallow

I feel shallow,
if I was to dive into myself
I'd hit my head.

Concussion, bleed.
Maybe letting it out
would do me good.

I want to go,
to an empty forest
and scream.

Someone always hears,
these days.
I cannot get away.

But in the rush,
the meandering bustle
I stand raging.

Little occurances,
drive me to the shallow,
the nectar.

I swallow the shallow,
it poisons me.
But it does some good.

I see a way out,
its so close.
Don't fuck it up.

I might just,
Maybe the trees will
listen.

Redundo

Give me three months ago, I was a retail manager, style consultant and all the rest of the shiz. I worked just off Grafton Street, I was in the midst of a retail revolution, a new concept in the my field. I worked with the best people, the best technology and in the coolest enviroment baby.
That was three months ago. Three months ago I was stressed to bits, my blood pressure was 167/97, I weighed 17st 3lbs. I drank too much, smoked too much. Spent too much. I was a retail manager, I could sell communism to the communist and a hidey hole to gaddafi. But that wasnt enough.

A new business is the hardest f***ing thing I've ever been apart of. The peeps I joined had a bad rep with staff but having been treating like a bad smell at a febreeze factory in my previous job I jumped on that train like mozerella on a pizza. I joined at the right time, it was the summer, Ryan Tubridy was a client, Pat Kenny was our bitch and Maura Tierney (Yep Abby from ER) was a regular. I joined in the Nasa landing on the moon times. People dropping money, recession was spelt RE€€€€€€€. We brought in the reps and we spent a shite load on stock.

Then September hit, too many staff. New shop opening and too many staff. New shop opening, too many staff and not enough money. October hit, SHITE! Then November, sweet Novewmber.

No pay on due day, no pay week later..... it went on.


In previous job I was paid on the 15th, no hassle. All my bills came out of my account after that date.
New job:

Me: "I need money ASAP to pay credit union tomorrow"
She Bitch: "There is no Money"
Me: " I've done the work, I need to be paid, I'm going to have to look for a new job"
She Bitch....who worked for the UN and now has the role (unfortunate for the staff) of dealing with all negative issues.:

"I totally reccommend you look for a new job, do you want to leave now?"

Me,,,, gayism interjects and I break down.... "Wha do you mean? Ive given my all to this job, this company and you want me to walk out...  now?"

She Bitch " I totally think you should go now, leave. we'll pay you for your work... eventually, but go"


I didnt quit but I went home early cause I was too upset too work. What can I say....

Next day I had it out with She Bitch's husband the supposed owner of the business. I gave it my all. Told him all th shiz, not prepared to work for nothing. I'm a good worker all the rest.


The next 4 days they were constantly on my back observing me, blocking me from my work, intimadating me and generally treating me like fuax shiz.

Friday that week

Felt like a hot bollox on a washing line. Went to Gp in Grafton Medical during lunch and learned I had hyper tension.

Best thing ever happened to me. Was out sick for a few weeks, was given great meds. Was all prepared to go back to work 3 weeks later and went in for a meeting.... Made redundo.

Three weeks on, never felt better. Away from those peeps. On great med to decrease BP. Have been hiking/walking alot and on D.A.S.H (dietary approaches to stop hypertension) diet and never felt better. Now all I need is another calamity to stop smoking!

Sometimes you meet the most horrible of people, they promise you the heaven and the stars but what you got to learn is that its the earth, the ground you stand on that means the most. The sky moves around you but the earth and the people you love stay around you for the times you need.