Thursday, 30 July 2009

The Listening Post

Lost in the vacuous space of of time
As rough shoddern guitars
Rang like rappids through my ears
With the CD spinning
Creating a whir in the background
As the machine skipped and jumped
From track to track

Clunking up the numbers
As I close my eyes
To see colours and shapes
Screaming Daughter of a Looney
At the hieghtend volume of my voice
Causing Joe public to look
Almost freakishly in my direction

As I thrust and moved to the beat
Hands flapping with pecrussive feels
With 16th beat syncupations
Chanted voices wailing through the headphones
That sweated with a snuggness around the ears
My springy head and neck jerked about
As I saw shapes streched past me

I was completely oblivious
To the growing que behind me
As people turned into savaged dogs
With maingy teeth
All wanting to listen to audio products
As I was lost in a sonic wilderness

With my ears locked firmly
As one extracting wail
Lead into another foot stomping riff
The record store clerk poke me angrily
But my ears where find it hard to escape
But his near Nazi styled prodding
And screaching Look son there are other people here

I looked around and saw gangrinous Monsters
That replaced human beings
Making me humble
And turning me into a quiet soul
As I whimpered a soft sorry!

By Jeffrey Johns 30/7/2009

This is Art

Splintered into cold showers
Looking at the hounding walls
Screaming at me every waking hour
Like eyes looked like they were
Staring through barbed wire
Cutting against the skin
Like Jesus to a wire

Burning a reef above his head
And the ropes tied behind his back
Your suppoesd to be an artist
Screw voices tightening taps in my head
I looked out with my eyes burning
A rough rugged shrugged blue

I am an artist
I just don't want to follow you
And your identicate fits
With your identicate Tracy Emin rip offs
And stuck up false presentions
Of how we are to identify with ourselves
Without words rippling of corrections
To be made and how games are meant to be played

With the snob gobblins and ta ta parades
Screaming yippeee yo yippee yay
What a fantastic display
Of plastic hearted emptiness
Said with the sneers
With an una toneable sense of jeering

This is Art with a deadpan certification
You can't bend the rules
Like the the box you have as walls!

By Jeffrey Johns 30/7/2009

Sunday, 26 July 2009

God Knows

My friends god knows everything
He even knows the truth about Mary
He can tell all the final scores
1-0 to the city a wind assisted debarkle
So put your pounds on the bet fair
And take all your winnings
to spend sporradically on wild eccentric things

He knew how to make all the leaders sing
Just wisper in their ear
That there is a new relligion here
He said with sence of austerie insencerity
And just sit back here and watch the action
With me on my Plaza luminated TV
You see all the best action from me

Isn't it fun when the rights wings
Hang and maime whilst the tyranicles bomb and blame
Whilst Hollywood lies deep inane
For scientology is their game
And what was that about Mormonism
Otherwise known as the Donny Osmand syndrome
Oh yeah I spiked his plate with something nasty

You see sometimes its fun being me
When you know everything
He would say bending over gingerly
Maybe some day you can be a marta to
Bit like my supposed son
That people keep on going on about

The thing about god is
That he always knew what he was on about
Ask me a question and I will give
It will be the truth
Even if it is not what you wanted to hear
Most people just twist it in their ears
Believe what they want

I Had true control then there would be no right wing fundamental peeves
Lioke the Vatigan which is lined with sleaze
Of how we control humans by spreading STD's

God is really a lager lout
And a lazy bumb who does not like to shout
Let it out, lets twist their minds
play noughts and crosses with Maries mind
To make martas of Jesus kind
He often scoffs down a vindaloo
Or a Madhar Jaffrey that he invented

and many othe quite disgusting habbits

By Jheffrey Johns 26/7/2009

Thursday, 23 July 2009

birds in the cage

What you looking at me for
Screamed the sparrow to the Hawke
His eyes were wild and frightening
as he opened to squwark
I'm gonna pick you off
With talons rattling
Leave you in the starving quater
While I rattle and swoop
With victorious coops to prisons you

The birds in the cage,
The birds in the cage
The birds in the cage is me

The Hawke is society
Looking at me through the bars
of this flesh that sticks to my bone
as he screams out at the sparrow
I'm gonna get you alive
But the sparrow put up resistance
Building like a brick wall
As every breath the Hawke became societies Big bad Wolf
Screaming Little Pig, Little Pig
Why dont you come out and play?

The birds in the cage,
The birds in the cage
The birds in the cage is me

The sparrow tweeted out no way no way
I aint gonna come out and play
Because I'll know youll beat me again and again!

by Jeffrey Johns 23/7/2009

Saturday, 18 July 2009

Just anothe Night in The Safari Zoo

I miss the Wild life
wehen I walk home late at night
seeing 1000's of gorilas pumping for a fight
After they have had another splendid Friday night
Of cheap shafted alchopops
And being driven home by the cops
Those 40 year old bints bloated like balloons
Staring at me as if I was a loon
For not going to their saloon
Full of Orange peeled skins
And making myself look like
I had come out of a toxic waiste bin
yeah but thats supposed to makes us sexy
yeah but that really does perplex me
As to why you think it would be sexy
To have a slap on personality
As the daily grinds hits the rails
For a bit of slap and fickle
As the men gaupe like baboons from the local zoo
At the you know who
With their biuts hanging out like Brussle Sprouts

Just another night at the Safari zoo
Bumbling along with the you know who

I miss the sounds of the blairing sirens
The classy tones of 'Ello sexy
And look there's Jesus
Come screaching out from gaggling hags
Looking like abused, torne and shragged hand bags
With the men draging their knuckles on the ground
Making gargantuan sounds of apes
As they pound around
With all the intelligence of tarzan
With no space for thought in the brain
Or cans that they have in their hands
Wangling their wongers
As all space for intelligence drifts on out
As the larger lagers drift on out
And control their rotting spouts
Oh yes here louts shout it out boys
We are all girls toys
They said all tuffed up and the wronge waye up

Just another night at the Safari zoo
Bumbling along with the you know who

By Jeffrey Johns 18/7/2009

Feed the World and Geldoffs Girls

Feed the World and Geldofs girls

Living on a diet of Meth amphetimines and white powder
Bourne from the rocks and shed together
A peerless sprog of Dearly departed
Mother and father died for one another
Take one poor miss advataged youth
Who was brought up in disasterous rich upbringings
Of being a Geldoff Sibbling
To be thrown down with the common classes
As the flash, flash of Ok magazine
What a public hoob
After stumbling down the nearest tube
With a blearing nose and an attitude
That is quite simply spoilt and rude

Feed the World and Geldofs girls

So how should we do it?
I know we we'll screw it
We'll do a campaigne inouter Mongolia
Where people barely know her
So we can get the orphan to rattle and humm
Like desperation scum
And shout out save our Pixie
Save our Peaches
So they can live a life of luxury
And watch us starve and plea
Taxi for three they would scream
Take us away to Camden and gleam
They would say stairing into the seren
Of rustic shacks and dusty floors
Lets swap this place with plastered floors
And cheap shags
Where they can act like celebrity whores

Feed the World and Geldofs girls

I mean they cant help it
Being desperate that everybody felt it
To see their poor withering withdrawn eyes
Make everyone cry and mop sad tears
Oh look at poor diamond
As they plea on Children in need desperate and weeded
As they both cry we are all needed
Well let look at allo the good work they did?
I mean who did you screw?
you, you,you and you
As they point out all the indie slews
With their skinny thin brittle looks
And bones that snap and hook
Oh what good you have done by being a pointless bum

By Jeffrey Johns 18/7/2009

Wednesday, 15 July 2009

The Application

Today is the day I apply myself
Not for the wanting
Of things blowing up in my face
Because I have a lack selling
Abilities that I come across
Within myself
There is this voice that in my head
That self doubt will always rule
And I don't want it no more

So here goes the cieled letter
Across the space of screens
For you to read in the great seren
The occupancy that you have
To choose my skills
Or ignore me
Because I wont fit in
To your picture frame

But give keep on trying
Hit your head until you fit right in

The shape is something
You don't want to see
As I apply myself with whiff of honesty
And send it off packaged ruffled
To be unfurled
And drawn to pieces again

Tuesday, 14 July 2009

Undefind Love

I sit on down at the computer
Looking at my gun
As everyone seems to be jumping up
Popping up and down like fun
From the dirty dozens
Of the faces that they pull
with the screaming of the come on over
Watch me play with my pride
I will be the hearts lonely fool

I toy with myself
To undefind love

I see the eyes
Screaming more from my action
As appendages bend themselves
Into one another
With enthusiastic screams
Of those wanting to be pleased
With a confidence they drive from their bodies
As tongues twirl in twilight

I toy with myself
To undefind love

Bodies rise sore up and down
With the sweat drowning
Off of their browes
As they know they are being watched
by those with the one eyed loaded guns
and lonely hearts
To fire out the amunition
Of another empty man
He only seems to get love from his hands

I toy with myself
To undefind Love

By Jeffrey Johns 14/7/2009

Friday, 10 July 2009

All I Want Is A Warm Heart

Life is uninspired
Each Breath feels lik a chore
As my heart clunks like a heavy heaving machine
The Coggs slowly grind with slow creeks
As the eyes lure with insipped images
Of peoples faces gurning at me

I bwould scream at the man sat opposit me
Looking sullen at me
He asks whats going on in my head?
My thoughts are buzzing around my head
As I gear up my voice
To try and project it out
Stumbling over my words

I try to rattle out my thoughts
Not wanting to lie to the man
For costing me arms and a legs
To listen to me
My falling voices lear with a nervouse energy
The man swipes away with his ears
And points of view are spinning me
Trying to trip me into something
Of a possitive menta state

But I know that when I am outside
My slate will be wiped into the cold dark dusk
Even if the sub is shining
I still can't see it
Because there are so many clouds in the way
I spoke with a heart choking frustration
As I talk of smiles intimidating me
Like shody clowns from the IT factory

The man cringes looking at my face
An airy scaredness trickles down from his eyes
I don't know why I am mentally in this place
Like a weary bird in a cage
Staring at the blank spaces in this world
A cold hearted mess in this life

All I want is a waRM heart in this world to try and hug me

I find myself looking at groups from the outsiders face
The happy chatting voices press press alienation
Haunting words in my head
I explained to the man
How I was better off Dead
Son I can see your voice is drowning down low in the muddy waters
But please don't go you have everything to grow
Just remember th smiles
But I aint seenh them for a while
God I used to remember Iused to love a smile
but now I can barely twinge my face
Without a worthless distate around me

By Jeffrey Johns 10/7/2009

Monday, 6 July 2009

Burn the faces of the stars

In the cold mid winter
I sweat with shivers
Pouring out of my bed
All the time the blank box
Is feeding me useless garbage
Steaming out those monsters
From under my bed
Haunting me with caffiene dreams
Soaking in the nightmares
My Eyeballs stewe in constant wiring

My Eyes burn in the face of the stars

Wet drips of tear dust
Hang from my lids
Forming bushy bags
Growing into my sockets
Pumping viegns against
These glassy eyeballs
Staring like gob stoppers
At the tic toc clock
The radio hisses and buzzez
With the late night tittle tattle
Of small time conversation
I feel the fires burn into my head
For sleep is lacklustre
I am falling under daybreak again

My eyes burn with the faces of the stars

The piercing lights
Slatter through the glass
In hypnotic soundscapes
Burning up the fever staind shivers
Pouring waters onto the bed
Kindered with stenches
That run off my back
Like monsters in the night
That slabber my teeth

by Jeffrey Johns 7/7/2009

Sunday, 5 July 2009

Do the Oppression

Wake up and make yourself something your not
For today you have to fit in to get ahead alive
Theres nothing for those outside of our ring
As we are tightening the ropes
Exclusion zonesbecome bigger for those who can not cope
The borders of disibility become the grey pits for humanity
How can we be fighting for the same scraps of society
To take some money and break somebody
Down to the edges of this person
And within his personality
May lay the seed of something beautiful
But no one will see it because
Who will be there when I flaunt it
Hit it up and Laud it
But knowingt your going to totally ignore it

So Do the Oppression Baby
And take away your shine

Take away the glint inyour eyes
And replace it with something a little bit flat
Creativity is not encouraged
Because it does not ring with the monopolies
Of pounds and pennies that sting the publics purses
Wriming with the meat of what we need to eat
So lets change our our personality
Into polstychrine idiocrassy
So we can wait alonglines to be pecked and pushed into designs
Outsiders won't ever fit in
So we will chuck them right in the bin to be discarded
Don't let them litter this place
So we must keep them out of site
Even if they cheer our names
We must hide it all with shame
So lable us and Dont be scandlous

So Do the Oppression baby
An take away your shine

whatever glitters that is gold
Is forced onto to be sold
A bit broken and bold
So tone down your voice so it fits in with the ears around you
Don't stand on creates to speak
Because it will only make you weak
Nobody will listen to this high pitched squeaking

by Jeffrey Johns

I am Tea Bag

I am Tea Bag all fine and swift
At the begining of the week
Like a fine mans darjeeling or Earl Grey
Swooping on the Victorian Display
Quaffing and Quaying
As by the end of the week
I tend to sower like a dodgy smart price tea
With felt falling to pieces
Like a cheap PG Tips
Falling out for the mucky builders
And frumpy towns ends
And not so much the upper class trends
Or those in trends of the floating leaves
Herbs floating in gold blends
Of Rich flavoured brain cells do decend
As I wake up almost new every morning
To be battered against the edge of a cup
Straining every last molocule of my 200th of a brain cell
As they float around in warm water
To colour it a feverent Brown
Rosehip Red or Roobosh dead
All to end up with mud inflicted crustiness
With Ponchos of White Ridiculed mess
Oi your a Tea Bag at best!