The Fub

2008-05-17T12:56:00.001Z

In a dream a boy can grow
To be an honest man
A path of life strongly lived
To become the best he can

He may seize the gloating wind
Wrap fearless to his chest
Steady in resolve and heart
Would pass this bitter test

Word and deed would lend him thus
Roam there where others run
Held in warmth and softness, yet
Loved as a wayward son

If nothing else have the dream
Let touch you when it can
Taste just what you might have been
Were you a better man?

.

FISHER

2008-04-18T15:39:00.004Z

Angler,
Plant the false line,
Tempt, beguile, flatter and lure,
Sparkling Siren
A titbit dancing,
Fallow lie.

Strike.
Vicious aching.
Promise ripped in briny gyre.
Taught on hot rock,
Drying, dying,
Wondering why

fubsport

SKYDIVER

2008-03-30T15:01:00.001Z

The wind battered his face, slapping him like a scolding lover and pulling his cheeks like a playful child.
His clothes clattered and flapped, pressing themselves hard against him, holding him in a tight, insistent embrace. Breaths came in struggling bursts, as his speed plucked each one away, leaving just enough, barely enough.

He neither minded nor noticed.

He felt the sheer pleasure and exhilaration of the fall.

Marvelled through squeezed eyes, at the misty curvature of the Earth. The clean blueness, the horizon. The wide spread of the land below him, which for the moment, appeared to be captured, still, a photograph.
The world was such a beautiful place from here. For a few short moments, he forgot the ugly, escalating canker of the towns and cities. The greed and hate, squalor and deprivation. There was no global warming, no dying planet; there were no extinct or ruined animals. This was the world as it was meant to be.
This was God’s vision.

For the moment he was a bird, an eagle, a being of light and lightness. He was a swimmer in the divine. He was flying with God and he was bursting with the joy of it.

Soon, he felt the disappointing ground rushing to him, as if on a mad lift. It grew, while the horizon shrank and soon he felt like a mere man. The divine far behind, life and mortality poking at his consciousness.
His arms spread apart, like an aerial crucifixion, as he accelerated towards the ground, vomited from the morning sky.

Suddenly, the desert below became real. Definition grew and he could see the terrain clearly as it shot towards him with a terrifying impetus. He could smell the humanness of “civilisation”. The factories and machines, as they farted out their foulness into the planets once perfect perfume.
He recoiled involuntarily as his senses sucked in the putrid taste of human detritus.

Why had God allowed this?

As his descent seemed gathered speed, he felt his motion, saw the sand and broken trees race towards him. Just a few hundred feet.

His sorrow almost stopped him from saving himself. Almost.

He didn’t want to be another sin on God’s growing list.

At the very last moment, he pulled up. Swooped high into the air, briefly away from the decay and misery. Arms stretched at his side, like a stunt flyer. Scaring a crowd of expectant watchers, giving them a sliver of hope that they would see the awful crash and death. A wish too horrible for most of them to admit. But it was there in the deepest corners of their corrupted souls.

He landed gently on the branch of a dried, dying tree. Gnarled and beaten from sucking up too much of the world’s verminous poison. It had lived for over fifty years at the edge of what had once been an exuberant oasis. Now just another foul stench. The tree had suffered its’ decline with humility and born the pain of mans’ advances.

Stroking the brown leafless branch. He whispered “Soon,….”
The angel kissed the tree gently, fed his love through its’ sickened sap, felt it shiver in recognition.

They sat together to await God’s work.

This Night

2008-03-22T09:14:00.004Z

You sat and
held yourself
tonight,

For who else
is there to
believe?

Your soul your
heart, your mind
are raped

Too battered,
broken, sad,
to grieve.

The cursing
wind, scarred, maimed,
tore you

A storm that
threatened yet,
not raged

Condensed you,
a lesser
mortal

Truly this
night, you were
your age.

21 Words

2007-02-10T13:39:00.000Z

We fight
We fuck
Leer and Love
Kill and consume
Dramatic bravery and kindness
Ill will and blindness
The human perfume

Whenever

2006-12-05T17:32:00.000Z

Whenever.
The day seems lost,
The night awake and long,
The kettle takes too long to boil,
My socks and pants feel wrong,
The wind blows rain in my face,
My car won't start, then I miss the train.
The shaver cuts, cologne just stings,
Cats mess on the carpet,
Shoes don't fit,
I hate my job,
And people are rude,
Or caustically try to kill my mood,
Sales dry up,
Bloody computer crashes,
Kids leave a mess,
My mum's a pain,
Toothache rages, arthritis pesters,
I hear of murder and child molesters,
The world's insane,
People fighting,
Wars and famine,
Selfishness and shame,
The end is nigh!

But then again,
Whenever these things get to me,
It's you that makes me want to live again..

.

Fublove

The Weresnot

2006-10-22T11:07:00.000Z

the wizened, weaseled, wasted mind

stood alone in distance from it's kind

the reek, the stench of leprous intent

the gurgling place where thoughts ferment

the pseudo mind with pompous breath

all arrogance and stolen wealth

puffing code the thoughts are tame

and hide behind a veil of shame

the moon it rose in its minds eye

prompted it to leave its sty

the pseudo soul stole others glory

intruded in anothers' story

malice drowned the human sun

spoiled a game and called it fun

the pith that lies within that breast

will always falter at true test

to have a thought to call its own

truly inspired by itself alone

is a feat beyond the empty pot

of the red eyed, raving weresnot

fubsnot

Fuboween

2006-10-22T11:03:00.000Z

Beat the drums, sound the rhythm then

Don't expect to raise the fusty minds of men

The hoarsest shout be lifted and harnessed still

Sweet fortunes notes arrest the bitter pill

The fawning cavalcade invokes it's fallow wit

Bringing down the grinding, mindless bit

That choked the life of every soul that strayed

Into the crusted chasm, that held it's foul decay

Hopeful laughter lasts only 'til the falling moon

Stabbed on the silence that filters in the gloom

Forced to hide among clinging shadows' light

Trembled in it's bile filled coil of spite

Fanciful yet mindful of the wretched watcher's eye

Began the dance, unmasked the wicked, swollen spy

Hammered the beat to curb the cussed, feared despite

Shivered as the day became the night

Whirled and wheeled on threatened, tarnished field

Took the blood, to stave the horrors of its' yield

Held no delight in the frantic swash and sway-

Yet drank the life, to keep the craven beasts at bay

At last when quenched, frenetic dancers done

Then left there, strewn, unfocused, awaiting sun

Implore the spirits that fed and curdled fears

To rest this night, the mortals lying here

fubpagan

Bad Ghost

2006-10-19T22:34:00.000Z

he tried he tricked he troubled he trembled

he made the face that most resembled

a warped and shrivelled ghastly vision

a vastly scary apparition

he wailed he warbled he watched he waited

his enthusiasm unabated

he banged he crashed he chucked he blew

he just didnt seem to be getting through

he shrieked he screamed he shouted he shuffled

his groans and moans left them unruffled

despite his efforts to fright and scare

he just didnt seem to get anywhere

he gathered together all his resources

he hit them fully with ghostly forces

but finally his energy paled

now he'd always be known as the ghost that failed

he floated away despondent and sad

he'd tried his best to be scary and bad

he thought they'd been strong immune to his feats

but they'd simply been busy watching tv

fubhorror

Nothing

2006-10-17T20:21:00.000Z

there wasnt any time to take it in

there wasnt any space to worry in

there wasnt any place for joy or sin

there wasnt anything since this thing

there was no warning no noise or din

there was no fright or fear of limb

there was no heartbeat inside of him

there was no feeling since this thing

there was no moment when memories rushed

no sensation at all as he was crushed

no notion that his time had rushed

nothing at all since the cars had touched

now his body torn and smashed

now his futurebeaten and bashed

now his past has turned to ash

nothing at all since his car crashed

fubdriver

The Letters

2006-10-12T17:39:00.000Z

he worked all the day

but the letters came

then he worked in the night

but still the letters came

he toiled in the snow

in not enough clothes

but still the bloody letters came

he fought against the heat

but the letters came

till it burst his head

still the letters came

he tried his very best

and he took no rest

but still the bloody letters came

he never even stopped

but the letters came

til the day he dropped

still the letters came

on the day that he died

while his widow cried

even then the bloody letters came

when she sat and mourned

still the letters came

when she had no more

still the letters came

they threatened and raged

with every page

and still the bloody letters came

when she could take no more

the bloody letters came

when they saw she was poor

still the letters came

when the money ran out

the bastards took her house

and still the fucking letters came

fub bastards

The McFub

2006-10-11T14:54:00.000Z

He wobbled and jiggled

and bobbled and shook

and wiggled and slithered

and gurgled and took

a bumbling and stumbling and fumbling long time

to reach his goal one small step at a time

he flubbered and blubbered

and bimbled and spread

and gobbled and swallowed

and lolloped his head

he wibbled and dribbled to make his way back

so that he could stuff in another big mac

fubfood

The Rascal

2006-10-09T20:15:00.000Z

the trees bristled in their empty anger

the breeze whistled clearly of its danger

the leaves fled the branches like golden feathers

abandoned their home to this cold weather

the sun shivered in its unhelpful gloom

glowed only palely in its omen of doom

the sky hung just above the buildings heads

the man tramped past with feet of lead

dim clouds bulged on the murky set

splashing toward the grinning threat

the rascal hid himself lost in shade

deep within the abetting glade

the man came closer unaware

the rascal pulled the man in there

the rascals blade was sharp and ready

his fist was hard his grip was steady

the man felt only the first thrust

then his life just left him left his trust

the murder scene was bound with tape

to passers by a theft a rape

no name or knowledge did the landscape show

no clue or hint to let us know

it held its silence without shame

and never gave us the rascals name

fubmurder

Fub Bitch

2006-10-09T12:57:00.000Z

if you're in the nick

with a tattoo like this

there's a really strong chance

that you'll be someone's bitch

fubart

Fub Poetry

2006-10-07T18:28:00.000Z

in the moonlight
in the starlight
in the sunlight
in the fading light
at midnight
under streetlight
by candlelight
by the firelight
by the lamplight
i catch a sight,
of my reflection
it's shite.......
wanna fight?

.

fubfighter