Poetry Corner

Poetry by Flaps Huarneck

Horse with No legs

The meat was good,

Fresh,

My belly full,

But my horse had no legs.

Don’t Drink Bleach

I saw him in the distance,

Beautifully Poised

Beautifully dancing

Beautiful collapse

My Grandpa drank bleach

I found a lost friend

"In a moment, when I throw myself down among the absinthe plants to bring their scent into my body, I shall know, appearances to the contrary, that I am fulfilling a truth which is the sun's and which will also be my death's. In a sense, it is indeed my life that I am staking here, a life that tastes of warm stone, that is full of the signs of the sea and the rising song of the crickets. The breeze is cool and the sky blue. I love this life with abandon and wish to speak of it boldly: it makes me proud of my human condition. Yet people have often told me: there's nothing to be proud of. Yes, there is: this sun, this sea, my heart leaping with youth, the salt taste of my body and this vast landscape in which tenderness and glory merge in blue and yellow. It is to conquer this that I need my strength and my resources. Everything here leave me intact, I surrender nothing of myself, and don no mask: learning patiently and arduously how to live is enough for me, well worth all their arts of living." (N, 69)
Nuptials at Tipasa
Albert Camus


I found a lost friend 
who reminded me how to see.
I found him with the bats in the attic. 
I say I found him, but really, he found me. 

Go figure

Dance dance dance dance

Hendoooo (SQUAWK)

Just got back from my best pals hendoooo in 'The Big Smoke'.
High points of the weekend are as follows:

1. Our massive pink inflatable unicorn named Andre (RIP)
2. Wearing so much glitter it caused minor disruptions when dancing
3. The moment when some guy called me a bird and I spent the next half hour shouting "AM I AN OWL? AM I A SPARROW? at him. (Obnoxious twittering)
4. The early morning tribal dance routine with sparklers in the dark (never witnessed so much raw emotion)
5. My girls face when we showered her with liquid adoration (sweaty hugs)

All in all, tip top, summed up by the fact that I keep finding bits of glitter in my mouth.

HAHAAHAHAHAHAA

Squid Spermatophores

I totally did not expect anything to come up when I typed 'Pregnant in the mouth' into Google.

You gotta have faith

I believe her

Gagged

Signing into Ebay is always a good indication of my own personality as the recommendations pop up on the left hand side. Generally it is a musty selection of old suitcases and veggie cookbooks however yesterday they were of an entirely different nature. All the items recommended seemed to be either gimp masks or gagging balls. As far as I can remember I have never looked these up on Ebay before, however it did remind me of a project I did many years ago on the idea of silence, freedom of speech and gagged women in pornography. I spent the day gagging myself in various different ways (for anyone considering the papier mache technique I wouldn't recommend it- far too itchy). 

The concept of freedom of speech is currently being questioned in various ways in the press, one of which being the controversial pictures of Prince Harry in the buff on holiday in Las Vegas. The Sun 'Britain's favourite newspaper' (in their own words) are defending their right to publish nudey pictures of Harry cavorting in a hotel room and *gasp* having fun during a game of strip snooker. "It is freedom of the press to publish these photos!" they bleat, brandishing copies of their 'special collectors edition' rag to the weary camera.  I slow clap at the Sun's attempt to argue the importance of the role of truth and freedom of the Press (Leveson Enquiry anyone?). I wonder if it is instead due to their earnest sweaty need to make money money money more money ahhhh money more please yum money. 

Back to Harry or 'Hanky Panky Hazza' as I think he should be known. "How dare he?" I hear you ask. "He is a Prince! Third in line to the throne! He should bluddddy well act like it! I myself am appalled by the shocking nature of these pictures. They make me want to wring the necks of every God fearing swan in the country in a fit of blind anger. I see why Sun readers must be spinning in their white van seats. But this is more due to the fact that: 1. They are pretty bad quality and so therefore impossible to wank to 2. I personally don't really want to see HP Hazza in particular clutching his scrote. I am sure it is a lovely scrote, however it's not really my favourite one. I would much prefer The Duke of Edinburgh's  for example. Much more entertaining.

But REALLY. The only Prince I suscribe to is the Little one. (although I don't really want to see him naked either in case all the loveliness stores in my mind are destroyed) And wait, I forgot! I don't buy the Sun (Britain's 'favourite' newspaper) anyway so I can just sit back with a tasty gag and a copy of Antoine de Saint- Exupery's classic tale.