outsideinroads

Life games, music, magic and all the rest. Adventures of the fringe of the fringe amongst the.. "People's Republic of Brighton and Hove"


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Other Albion

exiting, existing – burning fire out bro heel daggers.

We, unknown and known super individual at a moment

   of 

       perception shift, a shift of perception

that tailormade skip, a fart and a 

cock shaft – laser pen chases

divine birthright claims,

hyperbole magnification of

business as usual in this racist albion

fractured, forgetting folk

deep, dark tunnel of treasures,

golden portals, light in cross pollination.

Dream a dream of bus drivers and

sailors. A new home, away, on the road.

It was always one for the road

in every phase of love, clinging movement

faster, scream.

This dream comes out of a spiral funnel,

spinning Spinee, are you, escapade? 

Escape?

Are you?

(g)nothing

Are you in my bones and cells and molecules,

are you a way out?

are you in those helix structures,

same yearning drift process of my broken not-yet-ancestors?

we ourselves

dead already, 

ancestors already

telling witch tales, walking people, look away…

A circle which is a process

is a spiral. Call it,

speak it. The voice in the moonlight electricity,

learning at last to be gentle in violent times. Yearning, to

let go of… those spiralling accusations, hurts, 

spat vitriol. You, BJ, you are but 

a projection, symptom of this land.

I’ve never understood it. The rules of 

who is spoken to, how to, who not. I’ve willfully 

misunderstood it. Hoof and horn, baby,

is better.

Don’t sweat it. You can’t claim.

Those inner/outer gods remain 

ever One/Many. Ever

Us. You can’t, your centuries at it,

this war, imagination, art

this war, the deaths, brutality,

oh our stories! It’s a dance. You can’t

claim anything that matters.

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and yet not

Doubt, holy force

centre spiral, this life with

central point in all directions, all

directions doubt. To stop

and read, encounter

words, feel

strange

strands,

never

had to

read entire

ancestry through

               colonising other’s

eyes, eyes of my forefathers

             saturated in unimaginable

disconnection grab grab

                                                             grab crab better like my family,

                                                                  like I just learned

                                                                           Gandhi did

also, in

chain

of

like Do Things Our Way but

not too much, know

place, fuck off //

territory not

all over 100 years ago

how we have shifted,

flourished, grown

and yet not,

chasm

       failure perception

Where the road

had taken us

every moment

                                                                             still

                                                                                 here.

and say No.

and remember

                                   transmutation

Hope,

Love’s wells

spring

in

 step

 we are new

  Children

     Weeping

       in the blood and

curses

of our ancestors,

we take foot

and make new

Our own methods,

Will learn

(depths, games

Nothing) from

Everywhere,

Still

acknowledge, respect, dance

only way to play with

gentle footsteps

although

                                                   loud pumping progeny

                                                        rest and grow

                                       Build new queer

                                   Future We Are

                               from nowhere direction

                                  Meet and find the others

Only when the time and stars

                                               And spells are