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Wednesday, 11 September 2013

  if  (1)

        If,    with   seasonal   shift,

                                            the  swift  had  flown,
                                                      we would know its temperament,
                                                                                     understand its ways,
                                                                          satisfied  that       in days  to come
                                                                                         radiance  of  eye
                                                                      and steeping mouth
                                     could  restore  soulful flight
  to shivering,  ice-tipped wings

SmokeyLinnet;Ise T/LemonYnk;Sonney(&Nonsey)Klimet;  

If  (2)

if any  Miss  or  Mister  currently alive
had any faith at all  in the contrived
moneystates-of-overstuffedbankshirks                   Bankwank : ?! What is to be doug
-and-overwhelmedpolitnerds                                             -  LENYN E. SITKOM
then          I                           4      One
would treat the trillionzillionmarillion(s)
miscalculation of the debt incurred by
zimmerdillion  with an evencontempting
despise  that  even       I    could  realise




                                                    WOT R  ?  THE  CHANCES   RIGHT     ?  INNIT!
                                                           In the spirit
                                              of sound financial investment
                                       I put all my unpaid mortgage on Earth 
                               being hit by a giantAsteroid.                    ! Fukkit    
                  I could  have got a much better return by lumping on TheKammerleg
                            identifying and using accurate political categorisation
                                         and / or  (sir) harryRedknapp ( HRH )
                                                 betting  on  a  dead cert
                                                    that aint a deadloss

                                              Symon Kleenit;  moneyTinkleS ; 
                                      james garner                    Barney(s)Kurley-Rubble-Ecclestone

                  -  taken from   REFLECTIONS OF A PYRAMID CELLAR   ( Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.)   )
                                                                                                                   muhammad Husni mubarak

in jewish north london  the tottenham yobs are mobbed by police for being   Non-PC

!                   YIDS     !! YIDS        WE   R
                                        YIDS     YIDS        !    WEER      ! NOT         !

          FUCK OFF !      BOLLOCKS   ! !         YOU'RE A CUNT  ! ! !   YOU CUNT  ! ! ! !

                                      SAMMY DAVIS Jr
                                      KOLIN SEYMENT
                                      DAME ALAN SHERGAR
                                      HARRY REDKNAPP
                                      TELE KYMONNIS
                                      WOODY ALLEN
                                      CLIVE ALLEN

all i was expectin' was a magnum of shampayn, kaviar, nice choclates, cheeses  that kinda fing ..  so to be perfickly
honest wiv 'ya, i was a bit miffed to keap getin' 'ampered
in the Final Furlong                      ! !
                                  HRH  - 'ARRY (redKnapp ) ' ( Arry )

      -  taken from     Always Managing 2 cockUp : My FootsieWootsie
  in witch  HRH  talk kandidly about   Financial Misdealings, Misgivings  &  MissedTheBoatings ..
                and how He was consistently duped by  an  8'3" tall   "ex-jockey"  who sold him  insider racing tips 
                                                                                                                                                   that never  came up  ... 
   well  tbh !   bent jokkeys  .. bent orses   i'm used to all-of-that . .. butt   tbp(erfickly)h  i fort it were just bad luk  
  they alwiz lost (? innit)    !ya' know ..!  hmmm    ( l o l ! )


           HERTHA BERLIN    -      Sieg  romp


                  A CURIOUS THING  :  REFLEKTION(S)  ON/OF   THE    masterRACE

Hey steady ! on    but  ? is it not  a curious thing that the Olympiastadion in Berlin, built
to Nazi specification (Speer/March) and purposed for AryanDomination, should provide
my virgin visit on September 28, 2013, the day preceding  The Berlin Marathon.
Curious but why ? 

Saturday, Sept.28:  Hertha Berlin v FSV Mainz 05 : Key match stats.
                             Hertha's first two ( and winning ) goals  notched by Sami (Tunisian )
                                                                                                 (Man of the Match)                                  Hertha's third (definitelywinning) goal notched by Ben-Hatira 
                                                                                                             ( Tunisian)

The next day, Sunday Sept.29:  The Berlin Marathon was won by  a Kenyan
followed by a Kenyan     then another      an Ethiopian  I think next      then another
Kenyan          something of that order.


Mikel E sonnyt
adolf eichmann / martin doorman /  alberts SPEER  & TATLOCK

? is it just me  or is it j?ust  you :  an idiots guide to the german anti-greeting   ! Tschuss

         Is it just your Teutonic  choice ?  ( I wonder )
                                                               but when you voice 
                                                      !Tschuss                 it sound   camp-ish   .  ....     .
      .    . .           more  like                 jizz                               in  fact
                                      and     2     close   2              comfort
                                         by  half                    now  I  look  back

                                                         Slo-tyme  Nekin


                                                                         Mintey Klones
                                                                                     Toye Klinsmen

late Spring                                                                               in   Weimar
                           where the sun beat down
                                                                  like an    unbalanced   Father;
                                                                  onto a square   which  frame
                                                                  not some  Bauhaus scape
                               but  a hell-bent                                                headshape ;
                                                                         unified  thus
                           in bloodcuss                                                              and  batoned                                                                             onto            banditBlunderbutts
             Who  cut  and  strut  
                                 and   thrust   y'all       unstinting  prayers
                                                             down   yon   liver-tipped   throat.
      They are   one  rabid crew
                                    these   hairbringerz of   shadow-gloom :
                                                                               byzantined         ducklined
                       born  in   barrakduels
                                                            uniforming                        Uber-crimes

 Stop at Leipzig zoo.    Disappointed at absence of leipin zigs but lifted by the sight of
a kea's rear; or a rhea's kia.    Leave car park, and head in on  TheRoad2Hell  thro'  TheEingang  where i'm met by a solitary yobmob , forcing me to pick an easier passage past a children's playpark;  where i exchange grooming monkeys for grooming children.
                NOTE:  The Kea  is called    Nestor Notabilis   which obviously refer to its status
                   as a   'notable nester',    which is remarkable really, being a bird 'n shit
 Make a toilet stop.  Find door marked   HERREN.   Pass through.  Come running out
speedy-shrieky, chased by a sizey-storkish bird.

  THE BEARDED BARTVOGEL :  The accompanying world map for  the BB   show a tiny
                                      area marked in black, denoting its place of residence.
                                      BB   would appear to be a native of Milton!Keynes (England.)
                                      Well,! it turn out that the real story is nothing like as
                                      straightforward; the black mark on the map is just a bit of
                                      beard that one of those damn! BB's 
                                     (literally  a bearded-bearded-bird )
                                     has stuck there    
                                     Still, if you're a bearded-bearded-bird, I guess you may have
                                     a fair-few options on what to do with that doggone sparehair

Saturday, 22 June 2013

well why ?not / ? well why !!

      Babooshka  of   windsa'

yet  another  
               royal Liliputia                                            dont  catch   Us      
                                       jumpin  up'Ndown                                  !
jon swift ,            turned on his gulliver,
                                                             might   tender   his grave
                                                                               if  quoted  thus :
                                                      WE'VE  JUST  ENOUGH  ROYALTY
                                                                                                         TO  MAKE  US  HATE  THEM
                                                                    ( & )      QUITE  ENOUGH           2    LOATHE THEM

                          toni yesmenkl / menkl noseyit
            gorgeousGeorgehamilton (the Inundated )                                         
                                                                                             SIEN KOMENTLY & THE LOCKNESSMUNSTERS
                  sidney james & the House of Barbara

                 When,                       to be  explicit ,
                                                                                          the  pore egret
                                                                                                            got savaged   by the beagle ,
        I         ( The Eejit  )       shapeshift                             -    !  illicit (elicit)   pity  -      
                  into  sickening bird  //  an ill eagle           
                                                      jo(h)nny Morris-Marr
                                    ELISYT KONMEN

           summer storm.       rattling panes .
           sick bird break wind    ,                     then  glass.
    intrude .                             wait  2  swoop.

 I,    ever-a-nerd
                 ( & thinkin' on me feet!)  ,
                                                                            do a hasty  'Spurlock', *
                                                 speedgrubbing tasty
                                                                             bigBigmacs ,                    (&)  becoming
                                                                                                       fat /   Obnoxious-hitchCock.
  (nooh) That! can't save U
                                   rasp  sick bird,                  pecking out my  eyes
                                                                                                                            with  Peckhamrelish

                                                             * Supper !SizeMe -  morgan spurlok/jamieOliver
       Sik(ment) Loyne
                                 sineme T lok-yn

  ode (!Oh)   2  Barney ( who's a luckyBoy  (then)  ! ?    )
                                                                                                     when  Longlegs  yelp :
                                                                                       HEY / HERE! BIG BOY                       i  sit   erect ,
                                                                                                                                            outblarney      her    Barney

Yomti Kennels
                        BARNEYS KURLEY & RUBBLE

 As SolKleen sail on
          in merryglare            a small crossrunt
    stand                                             solitary,
               in  canny  grasp 
of  sandflat                          which   space  me
                                                                      from inCorrigible sea.
                                                                                 Crossrunt  stare ;   beg me

                                                                  to  share  mockball
              in time-honoured  fashsplash                                 and /or                     sport:
                                                                                                 OldCodgeDogDodge  !   fudge
                                  !Beg all you like, crossrunt ,
                                                                        but(t)/tho'  U  and I   both know
                                                                                              'balon'  be  egret's egg
                                                                                                      which i eat
                                                                                          in  glutinous  facsimile.
                                                                slushwaving :   Adieu !oh Crossrunt
               in  language    best fathomed
                                                               by   brightspark(s)

trad / anon


   .. where  all that is left after a night in a summercamp is a fuckedup record of the frequent-faux-firealarm         the compressed remains of a distressd teacher             and the afterglow of a wanton

              . . .               dying    where/when    it lie.   .. .

  So,   at night's mootpoint,   
                         what  suit  Her  best                  is  to  rest ,
                                                 burrowed ;   blind-furrowed.
  As (faux) fire alarm  crank
                                             we  wake  in  chuntergrunter
                                      and line up                 half-skank .
   ( while )     She ,   absent  ,     sleep feign,
                                think  there  no smooch without fire
                                                and kiss pillow         again .
          Yet/But(t)   this  breath   insist
                                   and when that lack       so  the odds
                                              be  stacked against  Miss.
               Days  later,               Teacher    . .

   (  days later ) .  ..
                           .          ....

                                                    ANON / TRAD

I love your  aloofness                     she say
                                                                       I love  your  astuteness   he say
                                  but (t)
  as she  turn    to                    smile
                                                                he  quickly       disappear
     leaving   her subjected
                                                                                                        to  a   pre-eloquent
            of                 cbjective   condition

        in witch  David (Mohamed) Moyesi leave Oldtrafford at the drop of a cat
and head back to Cairo to face the music there

                 Well  .. having spent quality time with  LadyAlex (fergie)
       Egypt  seemed like a bed of roses       in all honest
                                                                                                   david moyesi ( president)     (ex)

    summer  &  Nothing

Ryde.                     Isle of Wight.
               Fed up.                                    Portsmouth-across-the-Water
    (looked)           for all the world
     like    Dubai                                                   on a   Saints'  day ,
                                      given  that  the  sun
                               was  bang   in  my   eyes               !
                                                                                                As   tears  welled,
                                                a  portly beadybeak   sidled  up to me
                                                                in  palship ,
            and,                                                                      wa(i)ving away
                                                          the  wellsack  of  a  washed-up  seal ,
          nabbed  my  scragchips         .

               STEEMIN ONKYL                                    SONNEY   ( & NONSEY)  KLIMET

                                       Summer 'n  all
  as the sun sank,
               the skimmerships       and semiPort
                                                                                      waged  pointless  struggle
                                                                                        with a  black-clad
                                                                                   whiteygirl ,
     head butted               arse ended                                                  silhouetted;
                                                        whence  I  dipped  into my pocket
                           so    I     could         consign
                                                 my last  Penny
                                                                        to  her  being  named
               ada                             and / or                                          abetted ;
                                                              (which I think he called Her.  )
                                             MONE  (  &  NEMO ) LITESKYN

as  Koilkleen ( SPRING )  cede to   SolKleen ( SUMMER )   we  bring you uptodate  with anything and everything
that  has been happenening  as far as pK  (PopeKoo-thehighKoo)  is concerned

and    at much-and-the-same-time  report  on the tragedy  witch  befall  our dearest friend and/or colleague
Ole Nitemynks,   gored by a bull when running out of   KarpetRite  ( in Pamplona)  with unpaid goods

                                                                OLE' SKIN(T)NED

  poor !Ole                                                             bullwhipped
                                             when  slipping out 
                       with    a                                                                   single-warp     redcarpet

(report by )
Leo Nitemynks

? ! WHY

              Science take clear stance :
                                         LochNessMonster  result  from
      underwater         fault  -line                         !
                                       SIKMENT LOYNE / JEREMY BAMBER

IN THE STREAMOFCONSCIOUSNESS                       !
IF                            ALL   OF  THIS IS              TRUE
               THEN                                                       ?  WHOTHEFUCKRU  (eh)
                                                                       WHOTHEFUCKRU        ?  !
   sien komently /  jeremyklarkson

                          well, why not ?

            UK                   say   DNA  from 3
                                                ok     4    IVF     !
          Well  ?    why not

the conjoined triplets : Milo, Moli & Oli M Tenensky
                      TheTripleWhammy :  theKammerleg / Y?Not Melenski

                                                                                              the doc; doctorWho;  Dr.& Mr.spook

         For Susan

   On the centenary 
                of         The Rite of Spring
              I erected a  small. 
                                    garden  marquee
                                                                                on  Susan's  say-so.
          In view of my questionable
                                      D.I.?Y?,        " I erected "                     
                                                                    would usually need
                        But  on this  (e)special day ,                                                                                    ( the centenary  )
               being challenged    vertically, 
                                                                                                         and  up - (many) - a - blind - alley,
                     proved  to  be         
                              of  minimal significance :
                                 In that  the marquee  poles 
            - or struts -              inserted  themselves
                                                                                           into  a  concerted/conceited
                                                                                                           structure                acceptable 
                                  to   dearoldSusan ;
       for,  overriding  
                                               my manual  dexterrible ,
                                                                                          a very strong wind 
                                                                                                        was  there   blowing,
                            which seemed to guide the struts   (or poles)   
                                                into    the requisite shape;
              the  whole  thing                                                        - ? maybe -
                                              springing  magically to life
                                                                                      with  the  helping  hand(s)                              
                        of                             Igor Stravinsky.
  No matter.                                                                   As I sit
                                                         quiet                                       in that   shelter
                                                                       I  gaze    heavenly
             at    five    sheeted    quadrants
                                                                                where     insects   mobgather
                              in   celebration 
      of  Spring                                  Summer                  Autumn                                    Winter          
                                                                         and                       Spring                                            again   .
        And  thus   I wonder,                          
                                        as  I  sip  my coffee
                                                                        and  listen  intently   
                                                          to  Beethoven's  
                                                                        Pastoral  Symphony ,
                          ( I wonder)     whether   I  am   really  closer
                                                                                         to an  earwig   
                                                                                    ! ?than to  Ludwig            At which  point
                                                                                                                  - ! wouldn't you just  know  it   -               
                 down my cheek                                    roll  a tear
                                            (where )   momentarily                   a  minute  fly
                                                                                            splash                   masterful  backstroke .

                                    dunkan  GoodooG


june and the peacock

  Down our lane     or up
                  and seemingly unfattened
                                  but(t)     unfettered    whoop
                                         a  peacock ,                          tied  not
                                              to discoloured season                           tho'
                                                           tending  favoured       plot.
   So story unfold :
                         Fooldom  may  summon   failJune ;
                                                                                      peacock  ruff   huffcold ;
                              majesty  unfurl
                                    in flailing  feather-fed   whirl ;
                                                       still                  He   !  hath  no girl
  Whiff    !    no  If   ! !                               No   butt
                               !  No pretty hen  enticed                           spliced
                                                                         on   stiff   peacock   strut                 !?
         Now   hardened  heart   bleat
             for  sweet  bird                                   who       cometh                                      not
                                           down  our  lane            or                      street .
     And His  cry infer
                        not  just  His  own savage hurt
                but our unjust  world ,
                                                               for  Misery   breed
                                   a  formless    false - flattery.
                                                              puffed  out          chest                   mean  speech,
                  which   dost     speak  volumes :
                                 !  Oh   that    Aah !    !Aahh    peacock gnarl ;
                                                                                                         we  agree its  stem -
                                                                               like  Dot Cotton  shrill
                                                             when     stuffed   ( stockingfeetfirst   )        thro'
                                                                                                                  a  northern  sawmill..
               (oh)   ? ! But   what do they know!   ?
             ( those )   Braying  neighbours     drowned   in      waves
                                                                                    of           discomfortglow
                                                                     where peacock-whoop     stoop
                                                                  not  so  low.                       Steeped    as it be
                   in  minds   more   astute:
  Hirsute   Mr Cock
                               lip  projected  gnarl :  Rhyme ! it
                                                                              !Beat  it            Slip  ! !      Unfrock
                 Like Haiku                          He rasp
   five times                  then  seven                       then               five
                                                                                                             in  regular  tack   .
                                                       And              ass-clasped                                     a  fan
          where,     true  to  type ,                           a pin-note
                                                                               lie   :             Made ! in Japan

          MIKEL  E  SONNYT                                    john Terry-&-June
                                                                                                                                      MotsynLineke / LinekeMotsyn
                                                       Lady Roman of Polanski-Abramovich