an ode to israel (i can't believe i'm doing this)

oh israel!
to sing your praise would take forever
in short you're a teeny little country
where the natives think they're clever.

the cities burst with holiness
each skyscraper and hut
but what's with all the life forms?
every second one's a nut.

a holy tongue is only fitting
for a sacred land
thank god the people are bilingual
-the language of the hand...

the land of milk and honey!
hatikvah and the hora!
the kingdom of heaven and city of gold
where everyone's a schnorrer.
---------------------------------

alright! enough! i can't go on.
sabra, this one's for you.
i hope this is satisfactory enough.

(p.s. i love israel. it's just that 1.the jewish wacko magnet of the world 2.tiring to be pumped with radically pro-zionistic beliefs [especially by people that have no clue about anything else of their culture except yom hatzmaot and falafel balls]. and so i don't like falling into that genre. i try to leave it to all the thousands of rabbis who beat me to it)

cry of the addict

Not another!
I quit!
I'm finished!
That's it!
I learned my mistake!
No more shall i take!
I've left it behind!
It's out of my mind!
I've changed to the core....
-alright, just one more.

----------------------------
this one's for you.
(you know who you are)

on a trip

-while i'm in the poppy garden
i can simply sit and gaze
at the flowers
oh for hours
drifting through the pretty haze
- falling in and out of focus
like a voodoo
hocus pocus
with the plants all begging
'smoke us!'
as my eyeballs start to glaze
- and while the colors blend together
i feel lighter than a feather
then there's sudden change in weather
lightly falling neon rain
- and when each raindrop touches ground
i can faintly hear the sound
of my vision laughing merry
as it's spinning round and round
-in the backround there is singing
gently adding to the fun
though it rains
the sky is clear
and there shines

PSYCHEDELIC SUN
---------------------------
composed on account others' experiances

the uncle s.j. show

hey kiddies!!!

it's me, uncle s.j. here to tell you you don't need to use razors or snort coke to feel happy.

yup. safety pins and magic markers are just as potent and they're a fraction of the price.

alrighty then, my young impressionable zombies,
your favorite uncle must be off.
stay tuned next time as we try to make this world a better place.

till then remember: don't eat dinner when you pour cynide in the cooking pot.

from comment to post

for those of you who haven't seen it on trixies blog yet (shame on you), here's s/t fresh and not too moody. as for the rest of you...
um... you're screwed (don't worry; new shit soon)
__________________________________________________

socks socks
socks socks socks.
why does everyone assume you need a pair?
socks socks
socks socks socks
is it 'cause they're braindead or perhaps they just don't care?

everytime i get a gift
i first give it a sniff
to make sure that's something good (like cash)
but if it smells of socks
won't open up the box
i toss it out the window to the trash

socks socks
socks socks socks.
is to get thought out gift is just too hard?
socks socks
socks socks socks
don't bother waiting for the thank you card

i'll go a tad extreme
to show you what i mean
a man i knew had no legs past his knees
when is his birthday came about
you should have seen him shout:
'what the heck am i to do with these?!?'

socks socks
socks socks socks.
kneesocks, anklets, argyle, herringbone
socks socks
socks socks socks
next birthday, think i'll hoof it all ALONE.

spring cleaning for the soul.

(trixies, you might want to skip this one.)
-------------------------------------------
ever have a moment of self introspectection?
you know, those pesky days where you wake up early and say:

"shit. what time is it?
only five o-fucking-clock in the goddamn morning?!?
dammit. you know, i probably shouldn't -fucking- swear so much.
hell, from now on it's only 'fricken' and 'shite' and whatever.
no more cussing shit out of me.
ah fuck.
alright;
starting right..... now.
...
...
....
um..
........
dang i'm freakin tired.
{shit, i sound like a fuckin hillbilly.}
...
crap.
i was doing so god damn well.
at least it's a start...
...
{yawn} well, how long was i able to hold it?
let me see...
SHIIIIIT! five o ONE? only 60 GODDAMN FUCKING SECONDS?!!??
ARGGGHHHHH!!!!!"

know what i mean?
it's days like these, i try and sleep in.

the end?

to all the fuckers and friends who peruse this excuse for a blog:

it's just about time to shut this thing down.
don't have the nerve to hit 'delete' quite yet; -but it's coming.
be seeing you.

brain worm

i suppose it has s/t to do with the music that tomboy posted and the watching of 'apocalypse now' right before conking out last night, but i can't get this short 'film' out of my mind:

the scene is all 20s black-and-white-intense-sepia footage style.
with the little squiggles and lines that pulse in and out of the picture.


little children running in an endless field; playing to the flow of the pan pipes.
and as the piccalo(?) picks up, it cuts to WWII era fighter planes flying skyhigh in formation.
then, the two scenes converge as you see the children are frolicing in the same direction as the planes are flying.
then as tempo increases, the squadron drops their bombs on the tykes.
by that switch over part (you know what i'm talking about), the clueless (yet scampering) little ones disappear one by one in small dusty explosions as the missiles contact terra firma.
the planes swoop off and the field is bare;
and the music loops back to the beginninng...


unsettling, in a pleasant sort of way.