My father died, Tick Tock.

All in to reality
beyond the fearless
scope the surface of sensuality
check out the breast
of life
scape
inescapable
palpable
tense
tenable
weirdness
Arabic
where the brick
that will build,
the house of pain,
where the Hell, of the insane
membrane
tap in to the
world of the perhaps
of the inebriate
associate with
all that you will
left to the grandchild,
on the windowsill
because of who you are
drive the car
left to who
in the right view
mirrors tissue
fabricator
of lives
and lies
of monumental
abdicated
remove the man
and the emancipator
of the balls of testicular cancer
of his bones
that only go so far
do not ever question the answer
for the surprise is around the corner
it will hit you square in the face
like beating on the law
and receiving the mace
a good sense of tumour
is all that we have
so accept and involve
with savvy and save
we are bigger than that
when it comes to the father
the mother and sons
it will set with peace and anguish
the bigger man wears the hat
of discontentment
of discontinue
i will draw together
forever
the noose around the blood tie
why?
because i have to
that is where
part of the pi
equation
persuasion
to that god we don't believe in
part of the sin
that punished
my father land
to this
He will not fall in
the bin of life
and be taken away
on my damn watch
not here
not today
so with will
and the power
we will un cuff the handcuff
and release the wrist
why?
because I
god damn insist
that my children will enter
and he will see their chubby face
it don't matter what breed with
don't matter what race
it is all inconsequential
part of the colour jigsaw
like a giant bird swooping down
catching prey with its claw
to feed its young ones
the family
to teach
to explore
My daddy will live
he will teach sponsors of mine
fuck the diseases within him
address and rewind
I slap the face of God
and remind him of why
He will not be able to judge
this passage of mine
for i grant me
this judges wig
for its my fathers land
that will wilt amongst the cotton
that will last grip my hand
dare not let him go
not without my permission
enslavement
of needles
without the
indecision's, incision's
he, is more towering than I
because of all he has been through
his blood may be black
but he hums all so true
i often wish that i go before him
that's selfish i realise, that's part of the sin
in confession to a priest
behind the red curtain
I openly admit
that is the part of the certain
I will not bury my daddy
before i am buried myself
I will sacrifice my life, my will, my health
yet i will also fight
to be the solid rock
that the blood
that is my father
will out live
the tick, tock.


Dad died, i felt useless. m j martin

The Jackson conspiracy theory

RIP Michael Jackson, or is it? I'm taking a light hearted look at the death of Jackson, is he really dead. I don't think so. I think his recent life in Dubai is a tantalising perspective as to where he may actually have 'retired' to. Imagine and suspend rational thought for one minute( pretend you are devoutly religious for instance), A burka, jacksons eyes. That's it, constant sustained immunity. Still able to walk freely on the streets, in a place where wealth is simply the norm, big cars, shadowy figures, unbelievable wealth. For a man so in debt, whose career was on the ropes, Dubai is like butlins for the poor. A holiday camp for anonymity.
You imagine if you had just enough cash to sustain yourself in the lap of luxury, but not enough to continue for the next 30 years without the embarrassment of bankruptcy and more court proceedings(something Jackson would avoid at all costs) A burka to the outside world(after all terrorists are us, have been using the technique for decades) it is possible!
Plus, add to that record sales(top 40 songs in the top 40) and record royalties (its a fact dead artists make even more cash than the living ones), well, who is to say this couldn't happen.
If the Jackson family do gain the rights to Michael's estate, and all future earnings, well, every ones a winner. Of course you could pay for the cover up, especially with the Kin, Michael has been the bread winner in that family for 40 years, why stop now!
Its just a thought, and i am not the first to suspect, well, no foul play.
He would never have been able to do the 50 dates at the o2 arena, but as cover stories (yes, used in context, as in, multiple layers of a story!) it is plausible, a wave of publicity, before, Bam, dead, the stress, the pressure, the fitness regime, it killed him don't you know.
Money is a funny thing, it can buy you anything, including, loyalty, on a scale we mere mortals will never be able to purchase(unless you include a Labrador)
I would do it, you maybe, would do it. All your life in the public eye, the last 10 years in a negative way to many.
Q of the day, so Michael here's your options, We are going to pin you to a wall, you over spent, and now you have to pay it back, every cent you make from now on until you die, will, I'm afraid, be ours, any future sales, concerts, albums, etc, will go towards paying your debts, or, and here is a real seller, you disappear, it's not as if you are not used to living a hermits life, existing in the shadows, think of 'your' kids, they would be able to be free, and so will you, what do you think Michael?
It would take one hell of a contribution from his inner circle, but if you love someone enough, let them be free.
It's just a thought, maybe I'm bad, I am bad, I know it.

There is a realisation
where a wet wipe begins to seep
no matter what meadow
the shadow does weep.
waves, tide us over
and the ocean drags us down
into the sea seems introductions
upon my loved ones ball gown.
There is a jazz, played over saxophone
that allows me to weep every night,
I see your face, shining on roof tops
you disarm me, weak wristed the fight.
Castrate me, i dare you,
take away the essence,
a thousand desperate are do's
or the mathematics that lessens.
My heart, involved
I dont even know how to conduct
the orchestra any more
my blood i never allowed, vampire lover, sucked.
inhale
and regurgitate
fake and facilitate.
i will lie here against the willow tree
i will lye here against the family belief
i will fly here against my lowly be
hold me, this once, hold me.
and if you do, i know that its right
its all so correct
mimic the wind and fly up the kite
the bows on the string, resurrect.

I met a girl out on united states way
she may have changed the ordnance of the things that i say,
remember that, in the sixties exact
i dont think i need that old prozac.
anti depressant thrown down the drain,
storm chasing tunnels with nothing to gain,
question in the queue with nothing to ask,
this girl allows to me sit on a rock,to sit and to bask o
hot relish
she is. I announce,
nothing wrong with all of that.
vixen
trixen
me
what do you take me for?
it would need a thousand solid sunsets to tear you away
pouring over oceans without a seer surf to care
why i have spoken these words
im a fool?
maybe i am, so sue me
take me to court
see what it does, for see
i announce
pronounce
try to test
i have to digest
and now spit it out
and i am happy
no illusion
no delusion,
you know your name
conclusion.

A pollen nation

Mediocrity kills souls
drives inspiration from the heart,
allows contentment through disagreement
where the essence falls apart.
Some bees collect more pollen that others,
because ambition is there goal,
which pressures the thinkers that lay amongst them,
morals drained,
replaced by rigmarole.
True happiness can not be determined,
it is unique within all of us,
children, marriage,a Mercedes, detached,
what ever drives a bee to buzz.
Yet I made a stance
one morning at work,
I decided pollen meant nothing,
along with collars and shirts.
maybe i am sanctimonious,
an arrogant beast,
perhaps I will be wrong,
but at least i tried, do you see.
This whole fucking poem
maybe a rant and a rave,
forget the structure of its layout
things need to be said,
who am i to preach?
I am no one at all,
just a confused inner journey,
a fly on the wall,
alcoholic infused,
maybe?, but hey
we all need that buzz
didn't we say?
The point of this outburst,
I do have one you know,
is that they,
determine they as you please,
are extinguishing the cells inside of our heads,
they are making the thoughts we have, dead.
I know amongst the train tracks, and stations
we all have to depart,
there is a station for all of us,
and that is determined by you,
but i have not found my station,
so i continue,
on and on, on and on, on and on, on and on, on and on,on and on,
do you here the sound of the tracks?
when the on and on is silent,
I will have found, whatever racks,
the cerebral torment.
I need to find the station,
I hope you truly find yours.
This is not a lecture,
nor is it a lesson,
I just want the pollen to reach the end of the line,
where the true peace of mind,
allows the black and yellow tickets,
to be stamped.
Then,
I will relax
and unwind.

Love

Love is such a strong emotion,
committing yourself
total devotion.
Love bites us all sooner or later,
writing a book,
spitting out paper.
chop down a tree,
lick at the sap,
love infects the heart,
creating a gap


the gap grows bigger
as time grows, stretched
and when love ends,
the gap repents,
leaving us to cry the tears
of a follower devoted for what seems like years.
A palm tree sways in a still cold mist
A gentleman chews on a ladies fist,
I hope you are starting to get the gist,
about love,
of why it exists.
It is there to torment whoever it finds,
loves an illness of the mind.
It may well be there,
it may well be true,
love
is really down to you.

Green for Iran.

Twitter, it seems, is doing its bit for Iran, where many of the people I follow, and those who follow me, have gone green. It is a remarkable turn of events, and may be the first time(that i am aware of) that this has happened on twitter. Facebook, of course, has long had 'groups' which you could join, in order to protest about one thing or another, but twitter is not that kind of social networking site. So this protest has been organised, and it has taken a bunch of unconnected individuals, most of whom i find to be educated and well informed, to stand up, and try to do their part. Its not a lot, although twitter itself has, it seems, been a very useful tool for those protesters actually in Iran. Although we have only played a minor role in showing our support, if I were an Iranian on the streets of Tehran, hearing that the people of the Twitter world were standing in solidarity, people, who, i might add, are from all walks of life, colour and creed, religious and non religious amongst them, I, would feel more empowered.
Although it will take so much more for a free Iran, the best we can do, is to apply pressure to our MPs to take action. Maybe this is the future of twitter, maybe this is the future full stop.
There will be new issues to deal with once this one has passed(with a positive conclusion one hopes), I, at least, am happy, and proud, to be a part of that future. It will, i suspect, always take an army of individuals, to take to the streets, to voice their concerns en mass, but every incensed, passionate, metaphoric ship of change, needs a cyber wind of supporters to encourage them on that journey.

new joke(these are hard to write!)

A man is involved in a motor car accident and is rushed to hospital. Upon arrival the doctors check him out and deem it only necessary to stay the one night to be monitored. As soon as the man is taken to his bed he begins to talk. “this bed is terrible, I will never get to sleep, and the bed pan is disgusting I wont be using that, and this light is not bright enough, I cant read with that” this continues for the next hour, until the mans wife arrives. The wife has no idea what state her husband is in, so she rushes to the ward where she is greeted by the mans attending nurse, “is my husband ok? “ she asks, “I'm afraid not” replies the nurse “ He’s in a very critical condition!”

agnostic / atheist

I have long debated my own beliefs. I am not religious, I am an agnostic/atheist. more importantly i am a bright(link below). there are many arguments amongst non religious types as to what an agnostic or an atheist is. the comment from askegg below this piece is the most succinct version i have heard. I wrote the below when I was about 18, I still believe some of what it says.

I am agnostic, This leaves me with the power never to be wrong, and to never stand corrected. I accept your beliefs, because i have neither the evidence, nor the intellect, to prove them incorrect, neither, may i point out, does anyone else.
I do not believe in anything i have not see. Yet i do not dispute it could exist.
This includes everything from Santa to Satan.
I will never preach to others my own individual beliefs, because i have absolutely no conviction in them, at least i am honest.
I once saw Elvis in my local supermarket, that did not mean that Elvis was alive, it simply meant that I, once saw Elvis, in my, local supermarket!
If the entire population of the world were agnostic, there would be no wars, no fighting, no arguments. We would live in peace as brothers and sisters, comfortable with the fact we are all different.
The only way that anyone of us will apologise to the next one is when we die, and the truth is revealed. I will not need to apologise.
I can remain happy within this life knowing that i do not know the next chapter of religious evolution.

At the end of the day, all religions give and receive gifts, wrapped in various forms, as part of some celebration.

The only guarantee i can give, is when these gifts are unwrapped, someone will be disappointed.

Birds of Pray.

Our father
This rip cord and I, over Devon
parachute pre packed by name,
This war will be won,
don't let me be undone,
plunging to earth,
and end up in heaven,
give us this day upon the countryside, bled
and forgive us my strings, lessen
as I, forgive the strings, that gave up against us
and lead me not into acceleration
but deliver us from the unbelievable
for thine is the kingdom,
the power of the story,
we plunged to our death,
airmen.

M J Martin.