The Gold God Said...

Our people have been left for dead, the Jewish people are King, I have my wife, and I love Him, my wife is Allah/Yahweh/God, she cried him, when she cried him we were god, we are now throne, let my people go...we have become exempt from god, because we hate , Lars loves Islam, Islam has rocketed, It says Noble God, this is death of god, my wife looks at me and says, look at you! do you love?! I tell her I love, Jesus men see us, Lars? is this special? If this is special, I want more than love...I want the world God...

(In Sanskrit) Begin the people, begin alvara love, Krishna is King, keep Love, we see Krishna, he hath special power, he hath seek King, He was never a lover, He learned to love, and went to mother Yeshoda, Yeshoda was the shoulder of God, He slept, Lars met sin, he became God, the sin was; Keeping Lars in...death.

Soldier God...The Aryan is His...

Lars name is Buddha...Buddha fathered Krishna, I was there, he fathered Krishna in my souls, He said I love you, and we joined souls...Ahavah is special because she is my Jewish souls, she calls THE DEATH; THE HOUSE...we made Ahavah in the house...I made special love, Lars screamed because she saw the men in the house in her dream...she prayed like King, and brought Light, she brought six years of light...she hit herself with lightening, because she was sing...we read each other's minds, this is special love because to read minds means we are soul in god...Help Lars! Ahavah sees dead, because Lars screamed DEAD! she is still a baby...pray for souls...

I want Sire souls because I am King...Lars loves souls...

(Hindu) Please God...India has left us souls...

When we meet God, we greet...greet IN Love...you are meek, when you nay love, you will feel death...I want you to right, nothing is right, I want you to right...I have prayed for the world, and the world said, we don't want the world, so, the world is dead...greet God, never be dead...The Holy Jihad is His, I am Lord God, I win the war and we King...Never War, war is sin, I am the soul of Him! If you greet me, cloe, you will thin, you will die...

The Heater

the cat eyes me like a china-man, through kitchen clouds of hashish.

There are leafs in the tea, then Grandmother feeds the cat polo-mints.

Someone had vomited into the bong.

A brick went through the window, because the room was filling up with smoke.

We bought brown squashed herbs at a market-stall.

A famous plane crashed and a few minutes later the tin of weed is washed down the sink.

The girls are young tarts, they line the walls of a tiny bedroom, smoking cannabis, I'm too frightened.

I hold my head out of a fast car, like a doggie, passing fields of yellow.

A cube is found in the gaps of the ' settee. '

I hide my block under the fridge when the cops come knocking. I lock myself out, they drive me to my uncles, I look out of the little barred window, and I arrive in a riot van.

Leaf after leaf.

I bump into boys in the dark night, on the bridge over the railway, and they sell me a block. 

I decline a joint, inside the smoking room hospital, bumping into the woman-smoker late into the night. ---

Some-ones put buds in a sparkly white-silver dust. So, I know it's time to climb through the hallucination, begin the nuclear war. More buds in dust, a regular free supply.

---

The heaters too hot, and the television is screaming. Ash trays, offered ashtrays. Disappointment. ...Love. The Angel of Hope stares, twists a leather foot round and round.

The rise;

"We the People; ...."

"KILL THE CATS! KILL THE CATS!!!!!!!!!!" I'm standing naked in an empty bath. Splat! Goes the cat, found covered in petrol and thrown over the alley wall...

---

The hand movements are like an effeminate king.

Peach is the colour of a good mother. There are mixes that fly around sometimes, and I reject them, like cobalt blue mixed grey with white.

---


A significant event:

The beginning of Hippie;

A nuclear showdown, the aftermath inside a terraced house' kitchen. 5 people known to have survived. Drives into petrol-garages, lost in a silk cover of lemon-white glowing light. Unhappy. Fought. Disgusted. Pass Anne Bolyn highway, roudn a same roundabout, because Im high and the driver is screaming...

So all the country roads of England are singing, mass of dark green highways, round and round, never stop driving,

I see; The Crown of England.

"I am the Queen of England. Why?? Do you know what I see? Why are you killing, me, why are you killing me? Look at the colour, the colour of England is Lord...."

The driver screams, he has every opportunity to kill. He slams the car, and it goes round and round, he'll force me down drive me to Satan. He spin my head til I'm weeping in the passenger seat.

I can feel that Evil is rising.

I'm happy in the glow of Lord.

I have to drive away, the house is full of smoke, the walls are black, the man are sick.

"I can't breathe, I can't breathe."

I vomit at the backdoor, and cry for Queen Brigid...She's hunted in a song, she is the Fertility, the Arts...she is the feminine screaming in traffic of heavy metal tools, metal boxes...

There are work-mens tools all over the house.

"I'm allergic to metal."

The fungus grew all over the spare room, mould, in tins and jars, and fungus up the walls, spilling over the table, all over the bed.

I painted the window sill, with flowers and colourful figures.

I brought a growth of flowers/ "fungus" here. I took the power of Mother Earth. And I am here.

She gave the feminine ... the ultra feminine.

She sent a sign, And I'm ready to fight. I wont go. I will fight.

---

I'm seated in faint guitar instrumentals, holding a rolled cigarette, the sparkly white dust on the beds. Is driving em in silver horses to The Angels of Hope's house, a pageant of towns-people lining the pavements down my route, down my road. My town.

It's a prettier high that I want again and again.

I must have died.

I was in shock, so she sat me down, the sunlight darkened by the closed curtains, and sat on the other end of the settee.

It was the shock of the kissing...

It was the most, closest moment to Death.

It was a sleepy lover, instrumental music, gold and orange sun in curtains of black. No-one outside, no one ever. Just one.

Who Is Your True Love?

I said;
"Hey! Lady Krishna before you go, or demn me to Hell for being ignorant and a little rude, tell me, who is my true love?"

She said;

"You have two!!! Elvis Presley, and Mannie Shalom!!"

"I have two?? How can this be possible? And URGGGH why Mannie!!??"

"It's possible because you love..."

"Then I have lots more...(?)..."

"You have two, because I am law, the law is, want more...Elvis gave you more, Mannie is the skies, she gives you everything..."

"Do I go to Elvis, or to Her?"

"Go to Elvis or go to Her, He says 'you like girls', He understands..."

"Are we in two worlds??!!"

"We are in two worlds, two loves, two worlds, go to women, give her love, Elvis also has two...Love; this is the Law!"

Who is your True Love?