Thursday, 5 November 2009

Word Of Advice

What is a word of advice?
Is it something of a warning?
Or of how to live your life

Words act like guidelines of how to live ones life
But hold on where the hell was mine
As I fell disfuctionalised life
Falling between the lines
With the tick tock not quite right in the head
Meaning all conversations had to be had with me in a mediated state
Engaging with me in a dream like manor
Because all sense of reality was to scary for me
I had to be the king of my own realm
I know that I had heavy dreams
Of who I wanted myself to be when I stick on a CD
Pressing play screaming on my Mapex V5 clattering agressive beats
Trying to shake off mental issues
Of the tittle tattle name calling coming from my school
Dawning In me faking an illness
Taking in security of Dub Wars screams
Or Skunk Anansies wails
Genereating a sense of of fear and social parranoia that would domminate
Making me un easy in parties or gatherings
This made me scared of the outside world
Because learning issues made me confused

What is a word of advice?
Is it something of a warning?
Or of how to live your life

You see when the guidelines of life were being set
I dont think anyone could predict
What I am going to write about next
You see just after turning 20
I suddenly fell ill and so very deadly
Shivering and shaking like dialated alchoholic on the crave
What I am going to write about is the effective death of me
A rotten appendage and 6ft blunder
from the doctors putting me under
Causing me to fight for every breath
My liver nearly left and that would have been me snuffed out
Without any exspansive life experiences
The casualty of life began to crash down around me
Loosing 3 days in Coma like state
Due to a mis caclution on the anesthetics
Meaning that my muscles tensioned with the flash of light
Bighting onto the air tube
I very nearly drowned with my stumach split wide open
Awakening from my sleeping state to struggle
Coughing and hacking up blood to grasp breath
As my family stood on by with relieved looks stuck on their
As I had come back to conciousness
To spend Nightmarish days and nights
Having tormenting dreams split of psychotic realitys
As Morphine and 5 penicilins was slipping through my body

What is a word of advice?
Is it something of a warning?
Or of how to live your life

In the guide lines it is harsh to to have a brush with death
But I had a double slap in the face of life
When a dear friend passed away a mear couple of months after my final desperation
A black cloud flew down as he collapsed from and anyuerism in his head
Causing him to bleed out red and slumber comatosed till dead
Leaving behind a family lodging in my parents pride
That were soon to be sowered By the sounds of angry voices
Smashing plates that began to rattle against the walls
Because daddy had a soft spot for the young widow and the sweet little children
Because he saw was something he used to have
As life had become stale for Mum and Dad
So Mum being Mum exploded
And removed the widow and the Kids from their roofs and lodgings
causing what ever support to cappitulate into local hate

What is a word of advice?
Is it something of a warning?
Or of how to live your life

I suppose the message I am trying to get across
I s that just because my life is different
Does not mean it is any greener then another persons life
Its just that I have a different set of problems
Like having a love life that is non existant
Because sometimes I struggle with knowing how to be with other people
On what terms should I relate to others?
Especially with out drawing heads of steam
Because I find it frustrating and extremly alienating at times
Just wanting to say hello is almost like a mission impossible
Without me being dwarfed by this inflatable figure I hide behind
Maybe I have social and sexual frustrations that I take out on myself
Because drink and drugs dont fir with me
The whole house party scene serves to intimidate me
Which is frustrating when you see smiling faces
And you know you dont fit in

What is a word of advice?
Is it something of a warning?
Or of ho to live your life

Sometimes I still have nightmares
And people play me as crazy
Because I do not relate to people as easy as a simple as 1, 2, 3
Because of having these mental complexs
Playing me from behind this skin
As flash backs haunt this head
Hellucinations of the torchings coming back
Flashing instincts making me human
As conversations of a serious nature and emotional states
I could communicate was with the pen and paper
Leaving around lyrical notations
Of what I was playing up in my thoughts
And this would bring open conversations
Is that what you are feeling son is that waht you are really feeling?

What is a word of advice?
Is it something of a warning?
Or of how to live your life

I have learned from living in the countryside
Words can be the deadliest of weapons
As vocal desicrations have crossed my paths
As locals collapsed like a jigsaw puzzle
Picking up the pieces with an empty shell
Feeling like we have a hex to burn against my name!

Late Night In Queens Square

Late Last night I was sat on the Park bench in Queens Square
Just stairing off into the dawn chorus
With a sweet head resting on my shoulders
I can feel a peeling charm
As I wrapped an arm around
Twitching with a hopefull sense of security
As a warmth travelled out
I staired at bewildered faces of friends and passers by
Jay Birds head wrested on my chest
As her spanish friend wittered on with glee
And then there were two random scotish men
And my friends from the Academy
Who were drugged up on drunken debauchery
Mad cap Micky was on one of his sprees
Ranting and raving as I coverted Jay Birds head with a sense of warmth
A bit like an unstrung harmony
Twinkle around that made me humm
I could feel ceremonious melodies
I felt touches tickled each other
Looking down upon her brown her warm brown hair
And well hidden french accent
Which onlt tilted occaisionally through her drunkeness
She said she hated having and accent
As it made her feel to much of an outsider
For the marketing trade that she wast studying at UWE
Upon the parting touches I felt a warmly glow
As she said that she liked me
And I told her what I thought of her Beautiful tones
Just regreting letting go without exchanging numbers
I just took a stiff breath of warmth
Just pausing to think
There's another one for the softness box
Along with a million others that have passed before me
I hope I can remember her for next time
But memmory is something that confuses me
Sometimes I have the memmory span of a deranged goldfish
Because of all these people that I meet on many nights out
Just remembering one thing!
I always have a softness for those who give warm hugs best

Monday, 28 September 2009

Toilet Rhyme

When you Rhyme you got to let it go with the flow

Im sorry if my rhymes are constipated
I dont mean to be too depictating
They just come to me when I am sat on the Squatter reattling my trotters
Oh no here we gowith one huge humph
And guess what? I am sweating like John Doe
Swine squealing like a blocked up passage way
Heres where damage is done of holding it in
Building swill in the stenching feeling
For the four hours waiting
With the constant bursting anticipation
Of needing to unblock yourself
But holding on as you march from the otherside of town
So you can rush to sit on your thrown
And yell out Timber
Pushing it out of your laurrels
Whilst grunting and Growning
Oh what a feeling

When you Rhyme you got to let it go with the flow

Sometimes I have trouble with diehorea
And so my words come out fast and unclear
As I am sitting on the golden arears
With a wet wibbling thing coming out of my arse
Making a warm sloppy feeling in my undergarms
Generating a pong that pours out of nearly every song
A bit like flipany grammer boiling on Piles
As the hole rumbles ready to blow dark thick chunks
Producing something that looks like a black haddock lake
And a smell that is quite clearly opake
For goodness sake we are going to break
cry my house mates who are quite clearly Irrate
As they had been waiting for a while
I cant help it
Just blame it on my piles
which is making me bleed a rampant vile red
And slapping my arse cheeks raw as hell
When you Rhyme you got to let it go with the flow

Thursday, 24 September 2009


The human appology is something that forever daunts me
As try to appologies for my very existance
To make you make your faces turn with an ugly sight
Son you are not dressed in plastic
So you are never going to be quite right

Thats why they labeled me special and try to push me out of sight
Well thats what the doctors nearly did with success in flight
Right they screamed lets put him under with a 6ft blunder
Because we dont want a boy with un Ken like existance
Squwarked a bunch of identicats with notes ringing for teeth
And a careless pastiffe apart from lets lock up all outsiders tones
You son you spastic come here throwing me crumbs kicking me in the face
Your a fucking disgrace they lauded
As everything I try just gets laughed at
Hahaha son you must be joking We never want to touch with a ragged thing
Stinging words coming from singing voices
Trip stumble blunder take away tears
But fought back from the dogtors blunders
So I am here to slap you in the face with broken jeers
Look out there I dont give a shit about your hair
And prostheticly beautiful you are
Because lets just face we are all really just retards
Especially to the point of in order to make statements
You have to copy one another!

Thursday, 17 September 2009

How Can I Be A Power

I sit behind an empty screen to add an ovuer
To a near tendril sense of desperation
Screaming out in a lone time voice
I need a savoury truth so I can sink my teeth into a slice of reality
Serving it up with a creme fresh clinkering
Falseness is always the way to go forward
So I try not to look at myself with any self conviction
That i may not carry out tasks in a necessary fashion to succeed
Son you will just stumble to your knees
Screams the spokes hitting chambers

I cant help but feel that every time is useless
In trying to fit in with the broken clothes
They tear us all from making a collage of insecurity
How we all break into the same forms of life
Apart from being one of those that exceeds expectations
I am lost in walls of wafted voices
Charmonade insurections of reputability
To count on in the social seconds of need
Please bare source to those who inflict you
With broken skins crackling in the movement

Shall we inflict you with the modern man moto
Of get it whilst one can to the cand on the eye
Break out a sweat when your name is called
For trial and duty of how you must succeed
Indebted to bewilderment voices souring
How can I be a power when I cant open the door for my voice
Power just shuts me up boxing my voice into a corner
Confused and beffudled to be left alone
Sulking with those outside tones
How can i be a power when there is no thorn on my rose

By Jeffrey Johns @ 17/9/2009

Monday, 17 August 2009

The Chateau Wine List

Hey Waiter, waiter what is the best wine on your wine list?

Well sir we have the Chateau Rosie
That will make you go red an pofaced
Like as if you are on the public display

Theres the chateaux Faux Pass
Which is best served with a lardy dah
And false pretences that you can put upon in faces

Theres the Chateau Cordon Plonk
After a tipple will make you go all skronk
And act like a complete plonk

Theres the Chateau Cordon Blah
Which will make you look like you have been
In a blood red spa all singing la dee dahs

Le courvey en vie en rose
Which will make think that you are french
Pose with a pouting tones of look at me

Theres tha Chateau dupree
That will make you splee
and celebrate trable tops with glee
Oh look at me

Theres the Chateau rustic
Which has a bit of an upper lip taste
and leaves you speaking in high ways
like as you can pass for an upper social class

Theres the Duvone De White Ace
Something cheap and fluffy
makes you all roughy and duffy
turns you like a turd in a dress
in disgrace

or you could go for the tripple spree
Of the Courdon du plee
there are so many choices you see!

By Jeffrey Johns 17/8/2009

Friday, 14 August 2009

Little Sparrow

The Vulture in society is casting his eye on me
As I stand scared in a cage
Hearing the racheting of his giant claws aginst my metal cage
And voices are swaying round and a round
Just dont make at sound
I can hear them screaming
When trying to open the doors
Whilst menopause stream on out
And frustrations building away
Lifes just a brick wall
I can hear myself crying out
Nobody wants to listen to this voice
With the Vulture spinning around
In the Wings ruffling
As peaople are questioning my worth

Because I know I made way
For a friend to make the grave
And every day I hear these voices of blame enslave
You my son they would scream at me
You are not worth petance or pitty
They spit with an undignified sence
Of talking down to me and my family
Because I survived a 6ft blunder
Before he went under
Only months was the distance of time
One shock shook another one into action
Like a double sided slap that labled me
The sparrow is who I be

I could feel a little hammlet
Want to burn and blight me
As a stabbing lay blunt on me
Burn my name they would scream
With those ruly tones of authority
Treeting it like a witch hunt
Burning all the proffercies
Not making it clear to anyone
But just only me
For these voices I at times fear
Will get the better of me
The little sparrow that I see
That little sparrow is me

By Jeffrey Johns 14/8/2009