That Rant - JP.
That Rant - JP
That’s the thing about living in movies Then there’s the speed of writing A snail’s pace Like a state of slow living Betraying some basic requirement for living When I sell out with words Like I should be a farmer Go back to the roots Not mill about here at the upper reaches of the atmosphere The famous What do they have on me What do they share What a drug they own To know they are in so many people It’s funny The more movies I watch The more I want to watch Shouldn’t I get tired of them But no They are an addiction Like an extroverted hermit’s lie I’m moving through the still pictures in my head growing out of the tortoise shell As it slowly moves along the beach At a pace all its own It owns the land under its feet It walks with an assured grace Like a dancer without music The dancer still feels the beat in the breath of the world Go to enough raves And even the jack hammers do something to your heart And what is that key That formal thing that happens One of those gems to be found To be converted into a moment of beauty When those sounds around you become music because music ever changing Ever remixing is just spinning and spinning and it keeps on spinning in your head Like an ocean alive It works for the faithful It is the world we live in To face the friendly works in the oblivion sets to break off and burn without the feeling and the breath to the first wave of the forest gods to work for the mellow place to reawaken the past and formulate the pace of the gods and before the roam is finished the friendlies will welcome the beast into their arms like the wagon of the first god the one before the forms were filled out the one before the worms were laid out the beast will come and the eggs will roam really far out into the ocean and the really long film will no doubt be the first and the last place I'll look so don’t you worry about it just go to sleep my darling wake up again in the morning there is nothing to see here just another deadly device laid out before all the ways are ready before all the forms are prepared where has all the golfing gone where has honey been it’s the fourth of July and I’m wasting away in the place over a rainbow and between large breasts where is the make up room I need to be famous again I need to feel the growth of my penis into a large pipe organ to be blown with fingers and to echo through out a church like the worst nun’s wet dream to even think about sex is something I need to come to terms with now I need to open up to this world and film the worst in the best and make the worst in the best be the films maker of motion pictures who would’ve believed that the world’s away would find it another way to feel the first thing again and then there is the first thing again and that is the welcome one is this starting to become a flaw this complex need to be something to write something special what am I tripping on that I would value what a value based on only what I hope would be popular well fuck that I will write whatever the fuck I need to because the demons are in my head and they are screaming my brains out they are a triumph and I feel fucking great like the rivers of the ocean beating against my breast and then there's the flames of the ocean wishing me a good night’s sleep so I’m a demented fool waking up every night to the same world again and then there’s this family that moved into this place this place so this fun from the place the piece of big the food in the fridge fun from the family and the friends of the family find the feeling is returned like the breaths of the ocean so I will repeat this fame to you based on a novel or two this world ain’t big enough for the two of us so let’s divide it up between the fourteen of us in a way that will suit us in a more perpendicular fashion that’s it that’s all gentlemen lets take it again in another way when the reams of the ocean are closing in like curtains I want to be ready to base it on some kind of play that I can excuse away and then bet like I was really thinking it is sort of a game I can play with the ocean I a can play chicken with it rushing to meet the waves then running back fast as I can like catch with a dog my pet my beautiful forever pet is the broad blue thing that is spread out like a body of water and the flaming sun above is the shade of the moon for me to rest on and then there is a sulking in the background some kind over preparatory thing about which I have no clue but it is a faith based religion which is out of necessity what maybe all religions must be in truth I don’t know I don’t care and I’m going crazy in here it’s like a banshee that can’t yell I’m trapped in a body from hell I’m waking in a dream about bleeding gums I’m afraid of the ocean it’s going to get me I’m going to sink into it like a bloody fish like a bleeding blooding fish and the flames will eat me up like a greedy fucking frying pan ready to grease me down and fuck me with a fork I’m going to die man I’m going gonna die what’s this I hear without the fair the feeling of the werewolf inside my pen I’m from England fuck you all to I’m from a nation based out of Liverpool frantic flames eating at my carcass will roam like the devil's own like the Satan worshipers you all are on the inside fuck you instead fuck your Christian neighborhood we are the people now we are the people now lover love rrrr fuck you fuck fuck fyoyf fuck youf uck you like me that hurts.