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who is & ?
at the time this page was written, & was a university student, in his fourth year of study in computer science
how can I contact & ?
post to ash, if he replies, you've contacted him.
why is it that sometime & posts replies to a whole lot of articles in a single article ?
because the & uses an anon remailer, which effectively means that he pays for his net access in proportion to the number of articles of mail/news he sends.
depending on your viewer, this may look better if you narrow your display.
What's wrong ?
What's wrong with me ?
Why am I letting them do this to me ?
Why don't I cry out when this pain cuts so deep ?
.......Into the soft white squidgy
.......bits, the bits that you can
.......never work out the function
.......of when disecting a mouse.
They are maiming me
.......Even if I feel better in
.......the morning these
.......lacerations will scar.
With these accusations,
.......I was too young to know
.......better; I trusted them; I
.......LOVED THEM; I thought they
.......loved me; They still say
.......they do.
You pin me to the drying board
.......I opened to him like a
.......flower to the sun.
Not
Being quite up to speed
She warned me
Against
The evil of the world
Myself
Not
Being one to rock the boat
....I screamed
....``I love U
....I love U
....But please understand
....I can't ever be
....The daughter you never had
....Nor the biologist
....For the family name''
I say nothing
Of all the ways
To find out
This
.......is the worst
I can imagine
Of all the
Uncertainties
This
.......may be the
Most uncertain
Just below an article
On the rates rise
Just beside a piece
On shady salesmenship
Two lives end
In flat
A gun is recovered
Police aren't looking
For anyone else
I didn't at first recognise
Your name - we always called you
Sandy
I still don't recognise his
Flying up is out of the question
They just wouldn't understand
That night we spent
While I was
.....................screwing your sister
But they'd ask, ernestly,
For the truth
A truth they'd known forever
And were looking for denial
They just wouldn't understand
We raced, across the sanddunes at Otaki
we walked in from the station
closer than friends
more distant than lovers
each rebirth left you
with a little less to give
each blossoming reft
a wound that wouldn't heal
each waning stranded
you in a sea of depression
each death killed
you a little, a little
As you walk out you assure me
I'll have no trouble replacing you.
I swear I'll never love another,
But you laugh and turn away.
Sure enough, that very night,
I'm alone with Miss W. Sword.
I look at him,
By himself at the bar,
And wonder
If he's drinking to remember,
Or drinking to forget.
And whether the straight scotch
Is as strong a spirit
As the one he's trying to drown.
It won't be after he's cried into it.
And he looks up
And he thinks he sees her in the mirror
And the barman understands
And pours drinks into him
Like coins into a wishing well.
I have returned to the egg that hatched me
To find it cold and damp and vacant
And the present occupants of the nest
Are not whom they were when last I passed this way.
This is not the egg that hatched me,
For it was full of joy and adventures,
Of trees to be climbed and cupboards to be raided,
Of stones to be thrown and paths to explore.
This is not the egg that hatched me,
It smells of time, books and pot plants,
No more does laughter echo these halls,
No more is this a place for children.
It's not the falling that kills you;
It's how you stop at the bottom.
Cats can safely land on four feet;
After falling thirty stories.
But if one falls head first;
It'll land head first.
People have fallen from planes,
Landed in snow drifts, and lived.
A fall of a foot can kill
If there's a noose round your neck.
at the time
it was reasonable
it was the only
....... thing you could have done
you were single
in a mans world
with no one looking out for you
but later
....... when your ship
....... came over the ocean
....... carrying family
....... and forfillment
you had the
....... time
....... money
....... resources
....... support
but they lay idiol
....... while Rome burnt
and that morning
....... after i'd walked
....... three times round
....... the manicured block
you weren't to busy to say
....... to say you weren't ready
....... to say that
you loved me
you needed me
you wanted to get to know me
but not yet
not until
....... you'd told your family
....... you'd come to terms
....... with me
terms like the fine print
....... of a deed of disinheristance
....... signed in my blood
....... by my blood
....... to keep me out
large weave nets
....... catch large fish
small weave nets
....... catch small fish
a cruel fine print
....... catches humans in it's web
struggle
....... or die
....... or cut free
so that afternoon
....... i call the Seekers
....... and withdraw my name
they ring up a week later
....... asking if i'd really withdrawn
....... i say ``yes''
....... get the feeling there is
....... someone else in the room with the nice young woman with brown hair and
hazel eyes who'd been so helpful in my Search
....... more to help her out of a difficult spot than from any real wish to talk
``put her on''
....... someone fumbles the phone
....... there's a breath
....... it grows to pause - the kind of pause that hides under beauratic desks
waiting to snare the unsuspecting
....... slowly i reach over
....... touch the flash bar
the hum hides the tears
and whiskey the sobs
The rain drums on the roof,
Recounting a tale of woe.
Distorted by a millennium of retellings,
The words are forever lost,
But the message is of the sea,
Of ships storm tossed,
Of shipwrecks and drowning men.
And the rain is the tears of the mothers,
And the sweat of the orphans,
And the blood of the lovers.
I turn up the radio, I don't want to hear
How many times each sailor came up,
Before going down that last time.
But the rain told on,
And somewhere, someone listened,
Some lost soul, looking for a destiny,
And he answered the call,
The age old call of The Sea.
Slow puncture: noun -- a hole in the tire of a car, bicycle etc. which waits to observe the most inconvenient time to show itself [ 1936 from slow puncher -- boxing terminology ]
Little old ladies
Are part of the conspiracy
They know the things
You've forgotten that
You needed
First thing this morning
So when they greet you
``Good morning''
They're asserting they're
Having a great time
And you should'a
Stayed in bed.
A cat lies at an odd angle
A dried pool like a speech bubble
Out it's arse
& a small weeping hole
In the side of it's head.
Someone's pussy
Beyond the reach
of T.L.C.
The brighter colours
Have been bleached
Like driftwood
On this urban strand line
The neon lights
(BUY ME | OWN ME |
DRINK ME | EAT ME)
Fade in each others light.
What needs a bum a whore
When he has a bottle
a bag and a can of glue ?
A week night drunk
Out to prove there's
Life after marriage
Holds a one man party
I'm hip
I'm fasionable
I'm an attractive man
I snared a woman 10 years ago
And can do it again
(I love her
glug
I love her
glug
I love her
glug
I
glug
love
glug
her
glug
glug
glug
... )
When You Look At Me
When you look at me,
What, what do you see ?
Do you see these cuts,
This blood on my face,
Bruises big as walnuts ?
Do you see the welt,
Inflicted on me
By mine own tongue,
The pain clearly spelt ?
When you look at me,
You look at this face,
How can you not see,
These bleeding wounds,
Their horrid degree ?
I wish you could see.
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