الأحد، 17 يوليو 2011

Father Muhammed

"Lu-weesa!! Lu-weesa!!" 

I was thrumming through the alley at the side of the world, dressed in blue side-long pearls, one Imam's hat atop the head, coloured in jewels, a black and a white, the trousers were cut above 'delicate' ankles, they were darkest blue (the Mothers) (note; I am 'quoting some-ones eyes'), the shirt was black, she wore jewel, eight white bangles, one crown, (silver with flourescent blue elfin inscription; "We have Love Forever) on the right hand third finger, a light in the left eye, a wink...she walked through a barren wasteland called the Temple of Love...

..."Lu-weesa, We Still ('stop it.'). We are going to fight! I am the Lord-King!!!"

Lars thought Stop. She didn't want to fight. She wanted to soul. Where she walked was glass, where He sat was like a glistening fool.

I called them because I went mad. I called every help.

The Rabbi's Epiphany:

الثلاثاء، 12 يوليو 2011

الاثنين، 11 يوليو 2011


I have a empty bottle of water, that I use as my 'Ramadan Box', I've started filling already, devising 60p to one pound each day. No fifty pences. For teh reason, that, even though they don't 'fit in the box', they are too special to actually give away. The two pence won't get in either, so I've decided on adding only one penny coins, and of course the twenty's that make up sixty pence. No pound coins, under the reason, that that is not change.

There's a gypsy van, behind the tree, at the back of the garden fence. And just one fish left in the pond.


what is it about this Turkish girl, with the classical Royal Ottoman face? , and what the Hell is going on with all the Love Lines around us?

She probably stares at me, because "I have an interesting face...yes, I'm Greek Cypriot...I say that because it's souls. " she probably stares because I'm nerd, no need to describe things, but as the jewish boy said, "French women are (generally) haiier..."

The Turks created a genocide.

"When I was at school, they were always calling me German..."

"I like your husband, is he pretty?"

"What if me, and my boyfriend adopted a chinese boy and made him wear pink? And turned him into a poof"


Then a few months later:

"Why did I see you have me?"

I lay down to rest, and  I see her hair flowing around me, a brief very clear vision of her hair swaying and her head turning.

"What about horse willies..." it drives me screaming nuts.........always bad talk around me.

"Is this sick, you're in my bed?"

"Men would always look at me, because I had big boobies..."

"What if I'm a lesbian??" she disgusts me with a few months after meeting.

The teacher is flirting with the jewish boy, because I dare. "I dare you to flirt." this was supposed to be:

"Becud she vants your Love."

I've avoided that Love, since the marriage in the metro station in Paris...I just go nuts, and stare away from her, I go nuts because I hate all my work, and she picks the crap. "I reckon, I reckon...for a very long time, she sounded like she was weeping when she spoke. Because even though I'm on the other side of the room, she is mind-reading me for an opinion. And I reply in an angry manner, it was going that, I either stayed silent or I got too angry. And then I would lauugh.

"Yes, it's long and it goes all over..."

"I'm dead, dead. Why did you do that?"

Why did I see her again, in bed, wearing slightly see-through traditional turkish pyjama trousers. Hareem trousers.
then she stares at me, whilst I'm consuming her home-made meat-balls.

We are walking down Brick Lane, I'm hopping beside her. She is talking about something I expect, burning gay-men, I found myself agreeing, and very elated that she agrees with me. I stay silent.

"Do you like Gay men, Lars?"

"No, I 'ate them..." ("NO, I ate em, I eat em, I  burn them.")

I'm abit high, being out and about, and I'm sure her Dad is Sultan. So I begin my silent chat.

("Its wonder! Blood of Sultan meets blood of an Anglo Saxon King!!")

We walk into the Beigel shop to pick up food for everyone...it's a shock, it's a filthy walled, place, a little cafe, grime all over the counter, run by a fat english man, and a short cockney blonde woman with thick arms..."Yes, I did find Noam Chomsky in your bedroom,

I cant remember why I was there...."

The fat woman starts laughing and pumping out her arms merrily, it reminds me of Mum drunk, with similar thick arms, kinda punching the air...so, I throw a joke;

"Agh hahha, found Noam Chomsky in your room we did!!" I get a tea, it's a special tea, 50p, with lots of sugar.

When we walk out, I spin round to look at her, I turn soul, I wave my arms in circles and do a little bow to the blood of Sultan, dressed in Islamic black, a black box hat on my head.

"Do you think it's Providence?"  I ask her?

She looks up at me briefly. ("You're keen....and you're pretty....") HASHEM! Found it!

"Maybe, I'm King Cnut blood, King C*(&*(! Grandad alright Grandad!! King Alfred!! King of England!!!" A week later I find out Grandad is very ill, gone blind, unable to swallow, with pains in his face, yet the entertainment for Grandad continues...He says: "Good Girl.."


الثلاثاء، 5 يوليو 2011


(Katie B-Broken Record)

Shonie exclaimed:

"You've met a Shit??? Are you bazza's?

Atashe sank everything.

"What??? WhattTTTTTTT?? WHAT is that THING!!!???? exclaimed Hannah, beginning to violently shake, as she pointed....

"It's me! Lars! I slept on the floor!!!"

"Lars!! I remember, you kept crying sin!! You said I was the wife of shit...You said, she's a baby, rest...." (I said, on the single one blanket bed in the hospital, "Oh shit....I have a wife!"...it translated; this wife is shit...)

"I said : " OH Shit!! You're beautiful!! ""

(Ya, shit...O, shit...an aswad red...a red light...Arabic book for beginnners three,; 'Oh (Ya) My Fatima, of Al Quds, Palestine.'))

Dad said:

"Hallo there, Lars!"


She couldn't look at Atashe, as she slid through the door, heavy head of hair, whiter than white. SWELL. It's tiring, being awake after today, and I'm terrified of bed, only because bed has become an event. I was terrified in the car, happy at the bus-stop, happy because Sultan and Mummy and I, greeted the german exchange kid at my sisters school, with "Ach vat, mein digger?" Then the teacher starts shaking in her chair, and 'i think she has heard a baddie.' I sent Sultan a white toy car, made from a car that passed the bus, just like a remote control car that he can control with his fingers, then I see my toddler levitate. Worries, and worry. Can they hear the baddies?? So, the event, has become swell, except that I'm terrified, today has been light, apart form two spriks of paranoia, once in the bowling alley, I ignore my other sister in her tight pants and her new all-over tan, which, well, actually looks like a real sun-kissed glow, not, orange, because each time she throws the ball, she does some kind of shaking butt thing with legs wide apart, and I think slightly of our childhood, with her mousy brown very curly curly hair...(and now I can hear demonic laughter)...and something about when she fell off a pony in the mountains in Wales, my pony was white, and she landed on her head, and I cried, and expertly turned the 'horses' head, and 'cantered' a little...that was 2 second recall...I have 50 second terrors and thoughts and talk, that seem longer, much days wasted, pasty and fatter in front of screens and fears...and once at Grandad's...ol' King of Bavaria, the paranoia's at Grandads...so I talk and talk to the little sister, try some polite german , questions, talk about my collection of german music, and about a gallery show, and where I got a list of german music at another gallery show, and dad's eyes going black twice, because I remember before I hit ten yrs old, in weeks it seemed like his hair had suddenly become tight brown curls...something about he works forever on money, and I wanted a pound coin for a guitar hero arcade game...and how he jumps me in the room, while I'm trying to put foundation and eye-liner on, without actually having had a shower or teeth wash, my hair not even reaching the bottom of my skull, but suddenly curlier, than it could ever have been, being dead straight, as a toddler, playing with toy cars, dead straight, lemon blonde hair, and what looks like giant black eyebrows on a baby, that picture always reminds me of when I swept wall-paper across the floor, of an Iranian Jews house, and the ducks walked by staring at the floor, and I'm sure I'm someone special at that moment, and Prokofiev, R and J, is on the radio, and she looks Chinese like in that photo. So, I spend an hour, or more, telling baby all about school, and leave the day brighter, because I didn't see her when she was a kid...

Shonie is tire me...The thing is; When Dad walked in behind the open, door, which gets stuck on the carpet, I jumped physically, but looked and saw no fear, like when an electrician in the house made me jump at the bottom of the stairs and actually scream, because, his, face was fat and round and covered in dark red and yellow...when I looked at Dad , he shone gold, and I said; "Nay a demon, but an elohim..." then I had to go through, Why is he Elohim?" I tell people I tell strangers, through the doors.