The River Of Life And Death…

Looking at the river,                                                                        

the river knows the way                                                                  

as it moves with a silent strength                                                   

toward a great sea to lose its self in mass                                     

perhaps its the loss of its individuality.


Are we like the river moving onwards                                            

to a sea of lost individuality?                                                            

Oh yes I do worry about the loss of me                                         

how many me’s have there been                                                         

in the seas of lost individuality? 

Maybe when the karmic cloak is lifted                                             

we will become god-like and gifted                                                

because all our me’s will have joined together                      

and there will be no storm in weather

[just a thought]                                               

you never know it could be so

it could be me who helps your garden grow. 

So god bless you-and god-bless me                                          

and that’s the key-

god really does bless the true individuality…


Published in: on May 17, 2013 at 2:55 pm  Leave a Comment  

The Prize

Should one take the prize? I really do argue with myself on this one,
because if indeed I am so blessed with a mantled ornament, 
a statue given by some runt whose claim to fame is no other 
than doing a stint on that Big Brother,  
what is it that makes me try to commit professional to suicide?
Perhaps its me who has got it wrong and maybe like those others
I should befriend Elton-or Robbie 
perhaps I should ask Rob to sing a love song 

without him dancing about like a rabid dog 
maybe! When he does his act its only me who sees Norman Wisdoms cap 
we all love you Robbie, the fuck we do 
this of course this is just another’s point in view.  
You know there are those who would say to me

that I was filled with jealousy
you couldnt do what Robbie’s done my son 
because Robbie is the special one  
I wont argue the point my fickle friends
but I bet you also love Ronan Keating and his other noncey friends
Enough said!
My point is subtle and I doubt you’ll get it 

So I will take your critique on the chin 
and bow out like Gunga-din who lived to serve his so called his betters 
they may well have been men of letters-But they were shit as well.

G.H Dudley

Published in: on May 17, 2013 at 2:45 pm  Leave a Comment  

Is This The Dawning Of The Age of Aquarius

We have forgotten who we are and where we came from
and now the gods ignore us.
They were never at Auschwitz or the Gulags
because we ask for divine protection without connection.
We are not in tune with our gods because we go against the natural order
our vision dissipating as the waters of tranquility cloud over.
Confusion reigns as corporatist kingdoms of church and state rule
they control with the intellectual bile of ages past.
They talk freedom as they try to close down the enlightened amongst us
while the scribes and pharisees live in a royal abundance.
They feast at the top table with promise of the prize
these demigods of fear with their doctrinal metaphoric mumbo jumbo.
We make our own monsters in our own time
the karmic forces of change are not preordained.

So if this is the Age of Aquarius it really does scare me shitless.


Published in: on May 17, 2013 at 2:13 pm  Leave a Comment  

Stylized Debauchery/ Will They Ever Stop Sucking On Legions Honey Covered Bollock?

How can you not believe in a them and us society?As you watch them divvy up the crumbs of sordid crust as they masturbate into rivers of illegitimate pools of ego driven sentimentality.

You have Mr Frys articulate rotund Oxbridge embellishments squeezing his guilt ridden tea bag for all its worth.

All this while mega minded fuck wits like Davina and Garry finger their already over worked egos with adverts for crisps and hair care products.

When is enough enough? You dumb fucks!

But these people are so nice,so nice,so nice

as they suck on the pimple on the ball sac of the corporate empire.

Dont you hate the word “nice” and them of course.

As they smile and spout their evangelical falsehoods

Like it was a Little Britain sickie joke.

All this motivated by the fear of truth itself,but of course they the so called illuminates will keep giving out prizes.With the promise of a house on the hill and a seat at the top table,leaving its maggot infested remnants for the masses to bath in!

Will they ever stop sucking on Legions honey covered bollock?Such Stylized debauchery! Its all there”before your very eyes!” (Thanks Arthur).

Its the party hat syndrome, put on the complete disguise and pretend your having fun.Its an instant personality transplant before your very eyes.

If this is fun? Then shoot me! Please, please, shoot me dead,or take me to a cricket match and dress me up as Ted,then maybe I can catch a six in flight and perhaps then my fame would spread!

When did this happen? This death house rumble,this need for notoriety in all its forms,when did it become the fashion? When did Fry become a national treasure?And the likes of Davina and co the ones to watch these embellisher’s of mediocrity.Maybe they came to show us the true face of human kind,fame at all costs!

Its the house that Jack built,we must be gods joke, I hope so,If not we are all fucked.You can intellectualise all you want Mr Fry but being a friend of Hitchens,(such a hubris kind) does not exempt you from the dark corridors of those who prostitute themselves,those who sell their already oversold ass holes those who continue to sell “their bottoms” as you might say when they have all the pennies they need anyway.

You are the Nazi prison guard sliding food under the door in a death camp even though you know the gassing is coming first thing after tea time!

I am sure that I shall not get a ride in your taxi big man,I heard you call yourself a whore once, I know that was your whimsical protective mechanism at work, but I wasn`t  laughing as you perpetuate this holocaust  this corporate raping, this white man thinking!

Dudley George,skint.

I would be anyway because I am preserving my arse for posterity or post mortem, at least if I am punctured then I wont have any say in the matter!

Will they ever stop sucking on Legions honey covered bollock?

Published in: on October 9, 2012 at 4:19 pm  Leave a Comment  

The Spawn Of Legion

I believe that certain elements in our society would laugh at a bunch of  grapes if Simon said they were funny.

I say burn, burn in hell you square headed ponce,yes you will get yours!

If I did not believe that the man was the spawn of legion, I would be better off six feet under myself, oblivion!

This is just ones man point of view my dears, for I know  not a body wants my picture tattooed on their arse!

But what I would ask is are their many others out  there choking,choking on this farce on the dead flesh of mediocrities degrading fist?

A fist that enters you and churns and turns your inner being inside out until the milk of human kindness is turned sour into a hateful need.

The need to want to kill the infidelic  multitudes who allow themselves to be duped and downgraded raped and pillaged.

To be duped like homophobic right wing Christians or anti human Islamic fundamentalists.

Much like the inane X Factor junkies, that brigade of pathetic non plus brain dead Zombies who scream and shout as the idiot board decrees,on que like the soulless twerps that they have become.

To be duped like the lost children of Israel who pack themselves with hate.

All guided by armchair prophets. Its VIRGIN on the ridiculous (couldn’t resist)

Published in: on October 9, 2012 at 3:27 pm  Leave a Comment  

Dirty Lego

Why cant most people see their twisted need?

These fat cats that have an inbuilt need to rule,

So what do these people really think of the common man and woman?

As they sit at  gross tables with retarded grins

and without substance or sensitivity they decide your fate!


If the shit hits the proverbial fan,will they be on the front-line?

No! They will go to their bolt holes  and their castle keeps in the sun,

for there is no mythical round table my friends!

just alpha monkey minds living behind a mask of respectability

with their fat decrepit hands playing dirty Lego with your life.


They piece together a plastic edifice without foundation,

as said, its the alpha monkey mind, the need to dominate

yes,they exist in their high towers,we bow they feed.

So wake up! For their are no kings in this equation

its just a case of fools and more fools!

intellect without vision just builds up more walls.


So what have we got?

Boris,Dave and Nick

What have we had?

Churchill,Red Ken and Maggie,

Tony, Alistair, and Gordon. Really?

Enough said!

Published in: on October 9, 2012 at 2:42 pm  Leave a Comment  

The lady With The Smiley Face

The little one struggled and then stood up,
his cot was soiled with his own waste,
he just did not know this time this place,
how could he? He was just a baby.

He remembered a man once with brush and easel,
another life perhaps, he didn’t understand, why would he?
He was just a baby a little one shaking his cot,
but he does remember a kind lady with a smiley face.

It was dark in this place its not nice here he thought,
and where was the lady with the smiley face,
that other lady she hasn’t got a smiley face,
I wish that she would pick me up;

I really don’t like it here and I am very hungry, I don’t think this lady likes me,
I do try to be a good boy and play with Teddy,
but my Teddy’s not hungry like me.

I don’t like it when she shakes me about,
and then when I cry she screams and she shouts,
I wish I could see that lady with the smiley face,
but that was another time in another place.

I don’t like this dark place I think I’ll sleep, I don’t feel so hungry when I sleep,
Teddy says it would be better not to wake,
and then maybe I will see that lady with the smiley face,
I know that she will pick me up when I cry!


Published in: on March 10, 2011 at 12:52 pm  Leave a Comment  

The Jealous Rituals of the Needy

They come with their introspective smiles, with their eyes a flicker in the shyest of pose,
“oh” you say to yourself “their ok, I suppose,”
but something inside says this doesn’t ring true,
But my dear friends I do say this to you,
go with first instinct for thats the best you can do, because they are the needy,
the ones who really need you…

Remember my darlings we all stand alone,
and all you’ll hear from a needy is why didn’t you phone,
so if you’re caught by a needy,
you’ll wish you’d stayed home…
The needy are jealous and witlessly moan,
so don’t tell them your secrets, they’ll use them for gain,
and when you’re not looking be the cause of your pain…

They will pretend sensitivity, when the cause is their own,and their mantra is self-pity,
when they end up alone,
so if you are a needy -go get a life,
stop living on the entrails of others,
get a dog, a cat, a husband or a wife, anything, just stop fucking moaning…!

Published in: on March 10, 2011 at 12:40 pm  Leave a Comment  

Something At My Window

A tap-tap-ratter tap-tap, oh dear shiver me timbers,
there’s something banging on my windows, and the fact that I am ten stories high
makes me wonder who’s passing by.
I can’t say that I am not a little worried
and afraid, afraid to raise my head above the pillow,
I am so scared to see what I might see
a-waiting in the darkness for me.

I’ve seen those films with scary scenes,
but that really isn’t my reality and a werewolf being up so high
is something that I do not buy.
It can’t be a window cleaner up at night
in a bosun`s chair in full flight,
it can’t be a maiden with long blonde hair
or a fickle bird with time to spare.

It makes me wonder if I should open my eyes,
and see what’s a tapping just outside
you never know it could a big surprise
it could be an attempted suicide.
Or someone with a negative pursuit,
who may have thrown themselves off the roof;
indeed it could be someone on my ledge,
who really should be tucked up in bed.

Should I save this perfect stranger,
from his or her element of danger?
Or maybe I should let them fall,
for that’s what they wanted after all.
With eyes still closed in trepidation, and tired of all this fearful speculation,
I am going be brave and look outside, and see what it is that makes me hide.

And so out of bed I brave the scene,
oh my little chickadee, it’s just the branches of a tree,
a-blowing in its reverie.
There might be a moral here my friends,
if you have one please do send, please send me something meaningful
and perhaps I won’t feel such a fool…

Published in: on March 10, 2011 at 12:20 pm  Leave a Comment  

A Short Cut To Oblivion

Was it some perverted spaceman?
Who did sow the seed of our discontent?
Some Uncle Jesse from the stars
giving Mrs Ape a little taste of Mars.

Maybe the source of our inherent tension,
Is just the result of some aerial intervention?
Perhaps we are result of some bestial union,
made vent by some cowboy from the stars.

So we are the result of a self-centred act,
of a spaceman who couldn’t keep it in his pants,
And so all you folks that are homophobic,
just you remember, If our spaceman was a gay?

We could have evolved in a natural way,
we could still be eating the big banana,
or maybe we would have become shit heads anyway,
I blame god myself, I’m sure he could have intervened…

Published in: on February 2, 2011 at 1:27 pm  Leave a Comment