Friday, 10 April 2015

Timeless Tessa

Mixing everything up that you've half learned or
ear-wigged from a table beside the window that
you admired so heavily that weekend just gone by.
So reminds me of Tessa with her upside-down-writing
and her sideways paintings and her left-leg-up to draw.
She is backwards and fast forward into the past and

out towards the future. True meaning of timeless,
as she can glide forwards or backwards on the time scale
#Timeless true; so so true. Timeless Tessa who never
wears a watch and has no need for a clock as she's
always on Tessa's time, Tessa O'Clock. Beautiful
words for the only heart that understands the letters sent.

Her uncommon ideology being fearful of modern technology,
teaching you nothing. Only how not feel and the illusion
of happiness and social depravity. Thinking Online so little
of others so maybe she right, only time can tell, but she is magic,
and timeless Tessa, our heroine of now. Always so mindful
and perfectly constant. Working so hard on her Tessa O'Clock.

The rejection of all and absolute everything from sense to nonsense.
A way to be free in a world full of winners, success and wannabes.
We stand and admire those that care so little for what others think.
Independence comes only from clear minds that are thoughtful,
not to be conditioned in consumer consumption but have rational
thought of what is important for the now and for the ever-after.

Awoman | amen.


Monday, 6 April 2015

New Style of Writing

Thinking Out loud | 07/04/2015

Making my voice heard in a world of white noise. Punching above my weight in the realisation that God or Allah are just mere delusions of divine emptiness of a world without pain and suffering. The chitter-chatter in the mind’s eye and the rattling of skeletons in cupboards of trophies of past glories. The stupidity of an omnipresent life-force shattered and a way out of the nonsense of our present time here made whole. Propaganda and the media coverage with the sole purpose of finding division; hatred and the group mentality of mindless violence. Never thinking that the rational mind seeks reason and the ability to comprehend clear and modern thought processes. Many are starting to state that they simply cannot compute and will never relate to the notion that religion is a gain for any society, for in reality, it is the controlling factor of the powers of the few over the ignorance of the masses. Marginalized and intent on forging derision between communities.  Busy splitting up streets with bedroom taxes and Mosques upon Mosques of social workers fretting, about children going feral and the relationships enjoyed with broken childhood friends.  The word racism is thrown down as if an Ace of Spades, a Joker in the pack or the Trump card. Thinking the reaction would be greeted with fear of being cast-out and branded a 'human-hater'. Terror found in every public toilet and discarded wastepaper-bins and the sound of angry halal Muslims as they mutter their morning prayers, all head butting the ground, as the sun rises in the East. 

My life is turning around as I have a youthful heart to love me. A breath of fresh air who was born with a wild mind and a keen interest in all things that matter. Bothering never to question the love between a man and his beau. The age difference ignored and seen as a hurdle straddled.  She seems intense, blending her smoothies and sipping her Coolade through barbed-wired fences. Building bridges between worlds yet created and world vision thinkers all guessing who, why, what and where to go next.  Puzzled as to whether or not the church roof will be fixed before next winter as the winds howl around my ears of sounds of others telling lies about Christian values and the family break-ups of divorced parents all screaming their unhappiness in a society that demands you demand more of yourselves and your feeble partners and their spoilt lazy nutta-bastards with their two point five litre children all acting up and seen to be OCD, ADD and FCUKed. Learning nothing from schools without education and lectured highbrowed fibs of liars all. Mindlessly turning pages without sense of past, present of sight of any reasonable future in a bubble known as terrorfirma. Keeping feet firmly off the ground as the words keep us up at night and wake us in our daydreams and again in our early to bed nightmares.  Respecting without question the majestic and regal bloodlines of the inbreeds in our multicultural societies of the masses of individuals all praying that they too can gain celebrity status and joining the Royal few in the gas-chambers of tomorrows concentration camps of past memories lost. 


 

Thursday, 26 March 2015

First Impressions of Istanbul, Turkey


Cityscapes of Istanbul | 2014
by Joe Pollitt




İlk izlenimler | ISTANBUL 2014

Ben geldiğimde SOMA olaydan önce bir hafta var.
21. yüzyılın en büyük Madencilik felaket.
Medya ilgisini gizli nerede oluştu dehşet.
İnsanların ölmesi ve hangi onlar öldü yol tutar.
Seçimlerden önce sorunlar susturulması.
Tüm bayraklar yarım maske uçuyordu ve yas başladı.
Hüzün omnipresent. Kabir azabı tarafından etkilenen tüm.
Güneşin ne olursa olsun, üzüntü içinde Turizm Merkezi sahne aldı.
Bu trajedinin ve topluluklar içinde 800 artı madenci öldü
Türkiye'nin batısında etkilendi ve gelecek nesiller için olacak.
Ölümlerin her bir dokundu; Aile, arkadaşlar, komşular ve daha fazlası...

Ve Başkan'ın yardım bölgeye askeri adamları ile geldi,
Bu Soma nezaret ve bu bölge için bakan ama.
Galatasaray forvet sanki çılgınca masum tekme fotoğraflandı.
Bagajda bir protestocu koyarak, iki asker savunma tarafından basılı.
Bir yardım olmadan şefkat, her milletin ruhsuz ve kalpsiz ayakbağı.
Bu vahşeti, mutlak alay hissettim tanık bir vizyon görüntüsünü yapıldı.
elite hangi belli oldu. Kalpleri ve zihinleri nefreti
Bu etkilenen şiddetli idi. Öfke, kelime, daha fazla öfke değildi.
Çıkışları, işe yaramaz ne'erdowells ve kendini maddeleri kullanılmıştır lideriyiz.
Başkan'ın oğlu, haksız kazanç doldurulmuş bavul sürükleyerek bulundu.
Ve rüşvet para ağırlığını taşıyacak tüm ama imkansız.

Ve sonra kesişen mecazi köprü arasında dünyalar bölme.

Istanbul ve onun çoğunluk kuralı liderleri bir dalış tabureye yerleştirilen
çocukları olarak İlköğretim Okulu dışarı gel ve kendilerini daldırma
Yüzme havuzunda. Istanbul'da aptal kim?

Dünya karışık din barındırıyor. Camiler, trans, tekne ve vizyon.
Bu antik şehir İstanbul; Genel, gerçekçi ve olumlu vokal.
Kültürler çarpışır, Doğu tarafında ve geçmiş nerede tamamen iyi niyetli.

Ve Müttefik savaş gelinler haklı, istismar ve Kaptan'ın masaya eğlendirdi.
Nerede insanlar fakir ama sık sık oynak. Mükemmel asi için bir üreme alanı.
İğrenç arabaları ve kaçaklar. Şapkalar, palto ve throwaways; Istanbul şehri burası.

Müzik geceleri barlarda duydum. Görüntüleri ve ses sokaklarda gördüğümüz; arabalar flash ve
Modern Sinema, Şişman kediler ve çocuklar, yüksek sesle kendi ucuz gitar tıngırdatma iken Küba purosu.
Erkekler puffin nargile ile yüz yaralar, wannbe Asla Superstars bu sevinçlerini Türk barlar vardır.

Ezan ve kamet biz taze bahar sabahları hafif hava karşılaştırmak gibi bizim yüzler yıkama için düşüyor.
Cesur iletiler, yasadışı içecekler; bizim yabancı İncil tarama gibi keskin kenarları ile kitap okudum.
Biz dört kabile olarak görülen ya o ya da sadece kemik idolü. Muhteşem şehir Istanbul gitme zamanı

Reddeder ve yazarlar, kaybedenler ve dışlanmış, şairler ve dansçılar, tüm Konstantinopolis'te bekliyoruz.
Güvercin kanadı ve boğaz dalgalar - bilge adam kravat takan kara gözlü veda.
Kalıntılar içinde yatan bir üzüntü. Beni hiçbir şey düşünmek ve beni asla unutma.
 



First Impressions | ISTANBUL 2014

One week before the SOMA incident, is when I arrived.
The greatest mining disaster of the 21st Century.
Hidden from Media attention where the horrors that occurred.
The amount of people killed and the way in which they died.
Just before the elections the troubles were silenced.
All the flags were flying at half mask and the mourning started.
The sadness was omnipresent. All were affected by the torment.
Regardless of the sun, sadness took centre stage over Tourism. 
800 plus miners died in this tragedy and all the communities within
Western Turkey were affected and will be for generations to come. 
The deaths touched every one; family, friends, neighbours and more...

And when the President’s aid came to the region with his military men,
overseeing those in Soma and caring for those in the region but he was
photographed wildly kicking the innocent as if he were a Galatasaray striker.
Putting the boot in to a protester, held down by two military men in defence.
An Aid without compassion, a soulless and heartless nuisance to any nation.
This was an image of brutality, a vision witnessed of utter derision felt from
the elite which, became so obvious. The hatred in the hearts and minds
of those affected were raging. Anger was not the word, more fury.
The Leaders are sell-outs, useless ne’erdowells and self preservers.
The President’s son was found dragging stuffed suitcases of ill-gotten gains.
 And the weight of the bribery money was all but impossible to carry.

And then the crossing of the metaphorical bridge between dividing worlds.

Istanbul and its majority rule, leaders placed on a ducking stool
as the kids come out of elementary school and dip themselves
in the swimming pool. Who are the fools in Istanbul?

Harbouring worlds of mixed religion. Mosques, trans, boats and vision.
This ancient city of Constantinople; Global, truthful and positively vocal.
Where cultures collide, down the east side and history is utterly bona fide.

And allied war brides are justified, abused and amused on the Captian’s table. 
Where people are poor but often playful. A breeding ground for the perfect rebel.
Filthy carts and stowaways. Hats, coats and throwaways; this is the City of Istanbul.

Music by night is heard in the bars. Sights and sound on the streets we see; flash cars and
Modern Cinemas, fat cats and Cuban cigars whilst kids strum loudly on their cheap guitars.
Men puffin shisha with facial scars, wannbe-never Superstars those are the joys of Turkish bars.

Rising to the call for prayer, washing our faces as we compare the lighter air on fresh Spring mornings.
Bold messages, illegal beverages; books read with hard edges as we scan through our foreign Bible.
All around we’re seen as Tribal either that or just bone idol. Time to leave the glorious City of Istanbul

Rejects and writers, losers and outcasts, poets and dancers, all are welcome in Constantinople.
Pigeon wings and Bosporus waves - goodbye to the wise guy with the black-eye wearing a necktie.
The sadness that lies inside remains. Think nothing of me and remember me never.


THE MAGNIFICENT CITY OF ISTANBUL

Istanbul II, 2014

Istanbul III, 2014

Istanbul IV, 2014




Istanbul V, 2014 
Istanbul VI, 2014

Istanbul VII, 2014








Wednesday, 4 March 2015

FREEDOM

ORAL VERSION | FREEDOM

Freedom is a gift we can all afford to grant ourselves. It means nothing to most and everything to a few. Those who dare to stretch themselves away from the mainstream and are bold enough to bank solely on their ability to communicate and have ambition to see it through right until the end. Those are the works worth waiting for www. Those are the memorable voices that will, over-time, be heard by all..... 


Bubbling like brown rice in giant metal pots.
Listen to the sounds of the Underground. 
The murmur of distant voices rising, 
tiny sounds at first until the fullness is 
truly realised and the volume reaches our 
ears in order to be heard. Suddenly, 
the agony is understood firsthand 
and then those high pitch screams. 
Those unbearable shrieks that pierce 
the body like poisoned thorns, 
sending shockwaves into curdled blood, 
rapidly flowing around weak deflated arteries 
and thin human veins like freshly 
generated, clean and sharp electricity. 

Downplay the ignorance. 
Support the ground offensive. 
Play War Games on foreign soil. 
Drill bullets through the skulls of the damned. 
To ignore these cries would be a shameful travesty. 
To not download their significance would be an
utter disgrace. Grand plan, final attack, Drones 
released, terrorism hunted down, 
removed for good. The cries are coming from 
all those offended. All those affected. 
All those that are now gone. 
Dead and buried. 


Feet firmly rooted to the spot we, the afflicted 
have no chance but to digest this torment found. 
Head-splitting memory of reliving misery. 
The constant throbbing on a broken-heart, 
mended only by a night out and a finders-fee, 
bright lights, Bingo and cups of tea. 
What started as a friendly sparkler, 
quickly turned to fireworks, 
to mass murder 
with missiles never missing 
every site on target hitting. 
Blowing up the innocent 
from Baghdad to Kabul. 
Avoiding all the criticism 
from Edinburgh to Liverpool. 
Sending out our brave young lads 
from Islington to Hartlepool. 
From Gravesend to Nuneaton 
from slightly bruised to badly beaten. 

Catchphrases, soundbites and Celebrity. 
She’s pedigree and soon-to-be my destiny. 
Mix friends, stir well with a bedroom key. 
I'm-in agony on-ecstasy, medically I’m fine you-see. 
Watching you so jealously, finding my own chemistry. 
Fearful of nonentity, hoping for longevity. 
Regrettably I cannot be, the man you want so eagerly. 
I am pure complexity, a man without identity 
but plenty of integrity and I will love you endlessly. 


Here is to the freedom of saying what you like when you like. 


JP 05/03/15