2010 ( a review)

2010 is a film directed by Peter Hyams, it is a sequel to Stanley Kubricks classic 2001: A Space Odyssey. Comparing 2010 to 2001 is like comparing the sculpted work of Rodan with an expert at Lego, yes both involve the creation of a three dimensional object but we all know Lego is just artistically more rewarding.
In an unrelated event 2010 is also the current calendar year,

Curses

The voice told me not to fall into the uncertain trap of believing in certainties, a difficult thing at the best of times particularly with me liking to know what's around the corner, these certainties would trick me, coerce me into letting my guard down, imagining the rose garden would not let seasons fade it petty petals, imagine that because something is so at that time it would always be so remembered. I know now that this is not only not true but not false either. Point of view, perspective to you rules this roost like a Jay atop a Yew. Things may change, in fact they always do and these truths not only change the them and the you, but the way you are seen and the things that you do. You sit there in front of this screen, yes you: saying he's not saying anything new, he's not dazzling us with marvels or star spangled truth, and I must confess that whilst I type away in the dark feeling blue I am not bedazzling you or playing the flute. But at the beginning of this lark I let you know that a voice had told me all of these words, and none of you have found that in the least bit odd.
Comforting to know I am in the majority.

Baker's Dozing

Monday breadcakes on my table
Tuesday crumpets at my side
Wednesday cobs cooling in my window
Thursday muffins on my mind
Friday scones scorching under the fireplace
Saturday fresh bread just that morning made
Sunday realise I don't like baking
Monday try another trade

Your Past Behind

Your past behind
Merry Christmas
Your pass to love
Merry Christmas
Your past behind
Merry everything
And nothing I've been thinking of
You're passed behind
Merry Christmas
You're in my thoughts
At your funeral
Your pass to this
Merry Christmas to me
And you and no-one.

To You

Everyone here at Tumbleweed Mansion would like to wish you all a very merry Christmas, but would also like to ask you a question.

What the hell are you doing reading this on Christmas Day? Surely there's bad television and chocolate to keep you occupied, to keep you from perusing this festering corner of cyberspace.

On a brighter note, just remember: No matter how bad things get, no matter what festive mishaps occur, you're not Chainz, just be thankful for that.

Icicles Fell

I can describe only so much, what hid under my artwork
What thoughts and drawings lay over my heart
I can never truly aspire to inspire with my life's work that far from finished
Who knew of my doodles, unfinished or halved.
The sky fell and icicles plunged through my soul,
The heat of their sharp truth stabbed me everything I must know
You can't be alone and expect things to happen
And if nobodies watching, then how will they know when?
Around a corner kicking me is the person I was
But now my art has a reason, a why, a because.
And if I falter and no longer make sense,
Then I'll keep on imagining of the because, the why and the reason
And my art will continue to be wrong and still be pleasing

Chicken

One Day the Chicken will win and will have his way
And the twenty fifth when we celebrate Christ Mass day
Will no longer belong to the Turkey and to all of the Presents
But to the Chicken, the one who defeated the Pheasants.

Donald

Dangerous creature picking fights with those down on their luck
Pluck the feathers of this mean spirited and sinister crook
Hiding behind innocence and a jacket of down
All smiles when you're looking, nary a frown
Then you turn and the eyes grimace, no longer the clown.
His plan to turn you against me begins the result winning him the crown
Webbed feet into weapons that scar like a hook
Never, NEVER takes your beak of this twisted, malicious duck

Baggie's Return

I told myself I wouldn't write
After last night's upset
All lion's jaws and regret
But resistance is a wretched beast to tame
It can make sentiment feel the same: it can maim.
That last one
Became an issue
If you please
Enough to make a fire breather freeze
I'm on the tightrope
You have your head
In a lion's jaws,
And Baggie The Lion
Will make me repeat myself
Like a total cheetah.

Baggie The Lion

That last one
Became an issue
If you please
We are a circus act
I'm on the tightrope
You have your head
In a lion's jaws,
But Baggie The Lion
Will hurt you,
He's a virtual leopard
And a total cheetah.

The Second Place

Should have come to you
In the second place.
And I'd have taken you on a
Mystery break so good
They'd have taken the past away.

I should have hired a magic wand
That mesmerised me
Before it mesmerised you.

Should have gone to you, my love,
in the first place
when I was dying inside but
I was smiling on the outside
murdering myself one shave at a time
Each morning as I saw
my hate in the mirror.

As for him,
he may just walk out the door
And get run over.




























































































































































































































































Like now.

Turkey

It's Christmas at the door knocking
And the Turkey wants to say
You'd all be vegetarian
If the Turkey gets his way

A Someone

Of course you haven't seen me, nor spied between my eyes
What once was darkness and bound by truth, now cast down living lies.
These words used to come in swathes of blood and blues
Then the world did change and a life awash with colours not moods
This fairytale nonsense written here not far
Seems birdie in golf terms much better that par.
I no longer see violence in my everyday eye
It's the doom and solace that I struggle to try
To put into words and make dimensional by three
Because for me there is A Someone, a someone for me.

Breakdown Circle Holiday

Circles in the sky

Making me wonder why

Sky that wont come down

Images from an unwanted town

Tears spiral down a drain

A mirror with faces that look like forever pain

This man once was a stranger who cried alone

Now alone with a stranger to call always home

Because the clouds in the sky no longer come down

Winter Winterland

It has been bought to my attention that these past few weeks have been covered white with frozen water vapour. If this blog were a demeaning local news show or paper desperate to fill space left for wanted ads and articles about jumble sales, this entry would be resplendant with glorious white landscapes and abandoned cars. So here it is ladies and gentlemen, without delay The Tumbleweed Memories tribute to Snow.

That's right it's Snow, legendary rapper who told the world that the Police did in fact "Look down me pants, look up me bottom"

Enjoy your winter.

Bloggers Block

I Got Nothing.

I Am Facepaint

I wear facepaint,
if only to ride with the river
And the river tells me
not for sympathy.
I'm beyond rhyme,
any that I make
From hereonin, are an accident.
You're flying in the cloudbeam
Defending everything
Defending nothing.
Somone looked out for us,
And then they bailed.
Don't give up for no-one
Give up for someone.
You are facepaint
Said for nothing.

Rebecca

I saw tigers with the help of cider
So imagine what I'd achieve with you.
I made a manifesto with a glance in Tesco
So imagine what I'd think of you.
I saw clearer with eighteen pints of beer
So imagine what I'd be with you.
I saw lions with electric pylons
So imagine how life is without you.

Remember, Remember

Remember, remember
The line before last
And the one you read after
You take in the next.
Remember, remember
The line after next
It's the one you saw after
The line before last.