How Much Reserves? (Trigger Happy)

When I was seventeen I was called up for the Army reserves. I always fancied being being a soldier. I played 'war' alot as a kid. And I was bloody good at it! Playing one on one I died often because we would just start again straight away. And acting dying was fun. Then! But if there were fifteen of us in the woods I didn't want to die because it meant that you had to sit out the rest of the game untill one side had won. So in those games I tried my best and the enemy walked past within inches before I shot them in the back. I had no consciousness of any wrong doing. I didn't think twice. "Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap. You're dead Walker."
"Where the hell did you come from Archie?" But that was my secret.

Six weeks of basic training. Screaming Sergeant Majors, crawling through mud and upperty corporals. I had the time of my life! I saw thirteen stone Neanderthals crying at the end of exercises. My seven and a half stone seemed to stand me in good stead. Because I shot a perfect score everytime on the shooting range I gained the respect of my fellow squadies and soon became the main man. I began to think I was officer material. Bloody hell, Sandhurst!
On the forth week of basic we went to practice the throwing of 'Stick' granades. Granades designed to stick to a target. This was many years ago of course! The instructions were given by a very bored corporal. We stood in a line on the edge of an old slate quarry. There was a fifty foot drop. We were to throw the granades onto or as close as possible to a mock up tank. We were in full battle dress. Rifles and backpack. I was second in line. First in line was 'Wattsy'. David Watts. The worst geek in the squad. And we had enough geeks! Anyway, he armed the granade and drew it back to throw. It stuck to his backpack. He gave a yank. Nothing. He turned around to face me. I kicked him very hard in the chest and watched him dissappear. I noticed that he had turned very white before he dissappeared from view. He exploded before he hit the ground. Of course I was thinking of myself but my whole sqaud was also in danger. The bored corporal looked at me blankly and then managed to squeak "Good move Archie". And then remembering his position bawled "The right thing to do Archibald". I still wonder about that. But all of a sudden I was not only Squad Leader but a hard man to boot. Not one of our squad agreed to sign on. We all went back to civvy street.
Years later I got called up as a reserve in Northern Ireland. The situation was actually pretty cool by this time but we all knew the history and the risks. The little kids took the piss out of us when we were on patrol and I couldn't really blame them. We were amatures after all. The worst thing that happened there for me was a night in a pro-brit pub where there was never trouble and everybody got on with everybody. Normally! But this night there was a squadie who couldn't have been more than nineteen, but he was a regular so he thought he was the bees knees. And he was trying to pick an argument with an Irish local. He kept calling him a Provo. He was pissed as a newt. The Irish guy was brave and didn't react. The squadie suddenly stood up, drew a pistol and shouted "disrespect the Army you fu..." He didn't make the sentence off. My hand had reached for my knife the moment he started to stand. It was a very good shot. He fell like a sack of potatos.
God made it easy on me.
Two years ago I went on holiday with 'Cooky'. Martin Cook. An army reserve buddy. We had pistols with us. We both thought it would be fun to play war again. I had a 9mm and he had a '38. We were in a forest in Germany. He gave me 30 minutes start. Inches away. I shot him in the back.

I now live somewhere in East Africa. And I meditate quite alot.

Ha di Ha di Ha..!!!!!!!!!!!

Old Premonition.

Blending into my surroundings I'm careful you don't see. I'm careful to the last degree. A captive moment savouring the joy. We're flying high above you , coming out of the sun, melting with the light contemplating the satisfaction though never showing our feelings. Pouring all over you blending in. I have lost my shame and you have exorsized your demons, we merge and reamerge anew. All the time in the world and only a second away my redemtion running around to the sound of an eternal clock. How long have I waited? Seems like only yesterday. All the time in the world if you have the patience. The moon comes up, you could see us now if you would just try a little harder for we are not very good without the light though the darkness is no problem. And we're coming for you. We're coming for you through the past to your logical conclusion. The irrational conclusions you drew are coming back you haunt you. Time and time again you prove me right. You are the living proof. You hang in the balance. All above the time, all above judgement and all waiting to see what will happen. I'm blending in you still don't see. We should shake your foundations. And we probably will.

Circa '93.

Derrick and Susan.

Derrick had had a hard day so he kicked the cat on the way in. The cat hated Derrick as he had many hard days. Susan, Derricks wife, stood in the kitchen preparing the evening meal and still after fifteen years of marriage she was glad to see her husband come home every evening. She loved Derrick very much. The cat hated him. Derrick loved the cat and his wife but he still kicked the cat and didn't pay half as much attention to his wife as he really should. Susan and the cat were very much in love so they were okay.
Derrrick knew he loved his wife, after all he was still here after fifteen years and he liked to come home to her to go out with her, and to be in the same bed with her so that was that. He loved her.
Susan would watch him and listen to him talk and she would be thrilled. She was deeply in love with Derrick. When he said, "I love you", she could almost weep with joy. When he said, "I love you', he knew he should tell his wife this because he was happy. The cat never said anything, just purred and pissed in Derricks shoes whenever he got the chance. Derrick had smelly feet. Susan loved him nonetheless but he was still very embaraced about it.
One day Susan caught the cat pissing in Derricks shoes so she grabbed it by the tail and broke its back over the back of the bed. When she told Derrick that evening he immidiately sliced her throat with a bread knife and fell in love with an actress in Brazil. Her name was Marrianna. Everytime she made a move or made a sound he shivered in ecstatic bliss. But she would smile cooly at him and wonder if a sardine didn't have more brains.
Recently I heard tell of a cat named Susan that stowed away on a flight to Brazil with a bread knife between its teeth. Wheather it relates to Derrick, who was in love, and Marrianna who wasn't I guess we shalll never know because nobody catches up with time but the future catches up with everyone. And I was in love!

Pure Murder

The evolution of a heart was all I had to offer and you just could not see or percieve what it would mean to you or me. Like an outdated decaying religion our temple began to crumble. I thought you were going to leave but where we went to was too sacred to retreat from. So you went on sucking my spiritual lifeblood and I couldn't help but feel exillerated and light headed even though all the while knowing you were killing me. Why didn't you just leave when you realized that our love was not on this world and we couldn't live long in the place we go to.WHY? Were you just human after all? That I can't believe for as the blade cut into your belly and the blood showered out so too were many dead spirits freed on the stenching breeze.
And your face! God, I wish you could have seen your own face as you stood there surprised and dying but somehow calm, knowing, and above all beautiful. And both of us were freed.

PURE.

Gibberish.

If you were told to be bold instead of cold would it hold..........water?
If it were said that you be fed with nought but bread would it get in your head....... mistress?
If I were to say go away and play would you do it staight away or......... delay?
If you were to use glue to stick me to the loo what would I do...... when the vicar comes?
If you commit treason in this season there must be a reason more than peas 'n'......... carrots!
If you feel shit it must be its that your a git that should commit........Hari Kiri!
If you're on a roof don't be aloof or you'll lose a tooth when you fall......SPLAT!
If you're on cloud nine beware of the time and watch for the sign........ that's going to fall on your head!
If I shout go without without a doubt would you pout or call me a lout and...... put me out?
I'm a poet who doesn't know it or show it or tow it along ......... to its logical conclusion.
Watch out for Fred 'cos he's not dead he's in quite good stead to bite off the head............ ache.
If you're called Dave and at a rave pills hoard and save and do them all in one go........ to the grave Dave!
If you've time drop a line to say you're mine.............field!

The Hum.

Woke up one morning and spent a good ten minutes just trying to open my eyes properly and focus. When I eventually got out of bed, roaring symphonic music blared in my ears. I jumped back onto the bed and it stopped. The moment my foot touched the floor again it screamed in my head. ' This is a good day to stay in bed ' I thought as I pulled the quilt over my head.

I dreamed in that days sleep. Sleep came easy as did dreams. Landscapes, colours and you. All peacefull places with no effort to move on when the time came. Time was moving past with no panic whatsoever. There were few waking moments in that day of sleep. I remember studying the floor for a couple of minutes wondering if it may have become safe but I let that train of thought leave without me.

The next day I did't think twice about getting out of bed and when I put my foot on the floor an almost imperceptable low hum rang gently in my head. That was four years ago now and the hum has remained, never wavering and never getting any louder or softer. It is just there. I've thought once or twice to go and see a doctor about it but that was an express train.People don't look at me any differently since the hum came. They still look at me as though they'd scraped me off the bottom of their shoe. And I still smile at them. I haven't done too much dreaming since that day though. Not even after I had saved a drowing woman from the river. I can't confess to being particularly scared as I dived in, I only thought how clear and fresh the water was, and how clear the hum was under water. The drowning woman was very greatfull when she had recovered which I thought was nice of her.

Sometimes, just for the hell of it, I put ear plugs in my ears and sit on the floor and just hum along with the hum. I can get my hum pretty low if I try hard enough. I think I did change after the hum came even though people still treated me the same. I started affecting other peoples characteristics. Even fictional characters charaterisics. Sometimes I would have a favorite thing to say such as 'I laughed like hell.' Or 'cool' or 'absolutely ghastly.'
I even thought for a time that I looked like other people. One time I thought I looked like James Dean and another Albert Einstein. It didn't last long though. I thought I looked like Woody Allen once and had to snap out of it.

I told a girlfriend one time about the hum and said I wanted to crawl inside my mouth and embrace it. I didn't see her around much after that but that was okay by me too. I met her once sitting on a park bench and she told me that even though she knew she didn't want to see me she hadn't been able to stop dreaming of me since the last time we had met. Like an idiot I apologised. It was sincere idiocy.

All the fruits of the days experience should be ripe for picking by dream time but it would seem that my orchard slumbers in permanent winter.

It's not easy to think of things in the past or at least not rationally. Since the hum came I don't dwell on things for too long. The hum beats a kind of rhythm but remains static.
One day about a year ago I met someone else who said they also had the hum. I was walking in some deep forested hills when I came across a log cabin with what I took for a frail old woman sitting outside. I greeted her and she gestured for me to sit. I asked her about herself and she told me she was a gypsy. She said that people didn't want other people roaming wild anymore so she found a nice spot and built her house. She asked me what I was doing so far in the woods and I told her it was a good place for humming. She said she had noticed that too and that even when she wasn't humming she was humming. We ate rabbit which was cooked over an open campfire and then we sat around and hummed some together. I stayed with her for a month or so and we quickly became lovers. She didn't know how old she was but I'd say she was about sixty. Far older than me in any case. She was really quite skinny but far from being frail she had more life in her than I did. We made good love and we hummed alot too. We were both grateful for that time. When the time came it wasn't hard to move on. Thinking of her now has just reminded me of something that happened last week.Just for a moment I thought the hum lowered in frequency just for a second or two. I was standing on a railway platform waiting for a train feeling a little miserable as I had a slight cold, and out of nowhere a woman I had never seen before came up to me and put a purple shawl around me. As she arranged the shawl about my shoulders our eyes met for a split second and the hum seemed to deepen as though it were using less energy. I tried to express my gratitude with a smile and it seemed to work because she smiled back at me before walking away. Incidentally, by the time I had reached my destination I felt quite alright again.

I sometimes wonder how many people on this planet have the hum. Not too many I guess. Although it could be that people with it don't feel any particular need to talk about it. I know I don't. Especially since I told my girlfriend that time. I thought Buddhist monks might have it but I went and stayed for a couple of days in a monastery and there wasn't a hum among them. They were nice guys and all and I was grateful for their hospitality but they didn't get what I meant by the hum. They talked some about a perfect tone with which they tried to be in tune with but I could tell it wasn't an audible thing. They allowed me to sit and hum along with my hum while they chanted and I think in some way we both benifitted from it. They said they didn't dream much either.

I never become not aware of the hum. I'm always listening to it. Even when I am talking to someone the words seem to come out of thier own accord because I'm too busy listening to the hum. When I saved the drowning woman I didn't think twice about diving in I just listened to the hum. I was listening to it too when I was mugged. I kicked the knife out of the muggers hand as I listened. He wasn't very grateful and he didn't smile at me before he ran away. I kept the knife. Funnilly enough as I put my hand down to pick it up a cat came out of nowhere and started butting my hand with its head and purring. Then it lay on my feet and let out a long low growl and looked up at me. It followed me home so I kept it. She's very beautful and very sure of herself. At night she sleeps on a pillow next to my head and sometimes I hear her softly growl. She reminds me a bit of the woman in the woods.

I've just been having a bit of a hum to see if it would help me remember any more anecdotes but it hasn't and as all this remembering is becoming a touch tedious I think I'll just go on humming a while longer.

The Woman From Oak Fields.

It wasn't the first time in her life that she had been alone for more than a few days but it was the first time she had ever experienced this depressing desperate loneliness. She had lived for forty years full of energy, spirit and a life lust rarely seen in any man or woman, but now the most gloomy cloud had decended and she was confused.
Though her breast and buttocks were full and rounded her body was long and very elegant with willowy arms and legs and smooth slender neck and shoulders. She still looked as if she were in her early twenties. She had the freshness and innocence of a four year old and the and the logical female wisdom of a loving grandmother.
Her reletionships had always been whole hearted wheather it was a casual affair , or as happend on very few occassions , the true love of body, mind, and soul. She enjoyed sex , enjoyed a mans body and she enjoyed being enjoyed. In bed with a man she loved she would know him totally and they would expierience the true one being of true love between two people.
Ten years ago all her friends, male and female, had started to get serious about life, or scared of it, so they had all paired off and settled down to a kind of non-existance so she had made new, younger friends but now slowly but surely they were all doing the same.She had seen so many wonderful beings become stagnant by marriage and although their lives would go on for another forty years or so, she thought these people would grow no more nor know no more. She felt that people and society in general were demanding that she grew up, conform and gracefully fade out of her social scene and her present way of thinking.
She had been pacing her flat, weeping continually, trying to figure out where the fault lay. It was age that seemed to make people conform to the mass populace but she was still so...??? Independent! From the masses. And she had no desire to even pretend to fit in with a way of life that seemed to her to be a living nightmare.
She knew if she were to play thier game she would go insane from all the uncaring, unloveable, smug madmen all around. And she was too wild to accept her seclusion.
She looked out of the French windows of her fifth story flat down at the street, the air warm, the sun shining but no consolation. At once there were no more tears rolling down her beautiful face which was now expressionless and calm as though everything had been suddenly and sadly understood. She wakled over to the full length mirror and staring into her own eyes and she slowly started to take off her clothes. Only when she was fully undressed did she move her eyes from her eyes reflection and took in the rest of her beautiful elegant body. She took in every detail from her fine neck and shoulders to her full breasts and down to her slender waist and hips and her flat smooth stomach. All the while she was thinking of the men she had loved and who had returned her love so warmly and with all their heart and her heart thanked them deeply.
But everything was now all too clear. She ran her hands down over her breasts and on to her hips and smiled wickedly at her reflection. Then her smile softened into one of pure joy and knowledge and she walked back over to the French windows then offered herself to the breeze and the street.
She smiled for a couple of more seconds.

Written in the early eighties when I was still innocent. I couldn't be bothered to write anything new. It's late. Work tomorrow. Wish I could make a living from writing nonsense!!

This is the day that was.

Red Fidel whining for food. Pink red gunge.
An aging face looking back at me, a stranger. A big mug of milky sweet tea. A roll-up.
The same old route. I could do it blind.
Face's I know, people I don't. A helpless body and a beautiful soul. Mr. Parkinson invading a sportsmam. An old interlectual who has basically lost it. A hard rain. A beautiful soul.
Food. Because it must.
Drink!
A young woman who reads the papers, regulally wiping her nose and above her upper lip and who disappears into the toilet every ten minuites. And she smoked like a stack. She left in a hurry.
Not being bothered to eat. Battleing with technologie. Seeing red Fidel almost jump from four stories up. A rescue opperation. A heart attack.
And it's still only 21:00 .

Nothing .

Nothing changes. History only repeats its self! And I'm talking about this bloody log!!!!!

Dumb ass.

Apparently I'm too stupid to maintain a blog web! So now I have to re-write my old blogs because I want everything in the same place. Maybe I'm autisic! Maybe I'm just having trouble with the world in general. This log will begin with the beginning of the old log which hopefully I can get down as quickly as possible so that I can carry on. But I type very slowly!
This is another test. Do not be alarmed........