stripping the rose of the fierce winds

is like releasing a thousand prisoners into sudden tumultuous, orgasmic {release]

hold your breath gentle reader, hold it hold it hooooold it…………

why tears  like burst dams tear down my face

nd here like the first man i steer ’round disgrace

sheer is the the hike, from otherly to this now place

dear is the white, befreckled divinity-led appearance of her grace

dearer still is the carnage-cacophony in the mind – still now in its silence – her complete silence. People dont hlf go on dont they?

she is mute

i feel guilty sharing this with you

i have often used my life like a cheap show, cheap soapopera – dip in and see how distractingly dashing and dirty and devious and doubtful or definite MY life is

of late, i seem to have fallen foul of love and its fuckeries

fantasy fueled by all the facts, copied out with care and corrected of corruptions and calamities

chinawhite found its way into my backside

er, yeah – my little life

i am mostly in the arms of this new bird.

i blush.

you see, we all like to crack on with what it’s not unlovely to live along the lines of right? like in onlyfoolsandhorses when DelBoy is approached by an extremely posh shop assistant who asks:

“and what is sir’s pleasure?’

“er.. birds and curry i spose, but i wanna buy some clobber etc..”

got the most unrelenting pulse of parcels, proper trinketry and antiquities oblivion, and binies [pr. ‘been-eeze’] pussie, like, cuz, i mean…my cousin, nay, fam, my family, MY BROTHER my sister

lowlit langour, slow, smudged eyes of the moscow girls as they fling about our now ritualistic triplesome – our mad silly threesome

me [huh, me, imagine me!] trying to keep it low lit

the taller of the two [3? gosh] trying to keep the lights light

the dark haired one , the smaller one, who is unfeasibly misleading in her clothes. like, brother oh my brother the spleet-rousing,ruckrousefucking castle cutting down walls and all huge walls knocked through kicked in firestranglingfury of desire that forms like circles in the spittingguts when a girl pulls you on to pressure the point, to pull the undull dobba into stupidly warm heats and hip close waists, sheets drained of light

sometimes the word russia alone has me spaffing in my Bjorn Borg breifs

spunk, weed, spit, vodka, faint birnt foil under fat bugs of brown brilliant is the foil in the marble cave of gold and marble that is the bathroom

colapsed horror spun over and sorted right out/ banging away

tender in this other gaff

debauched in Derry, Dublin, Dieppe, Dunleary, Deptford, Dorset, Devon, Denmark, Dijon, down the end of the street, Dresden,

er, yeah, all that kinda caper is over

one woman man me,

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7 Responses to stripping the rose of the fierce winds

  1. Assol says:

    The fact my native country quite often gets a mention in Peter’s posts cherishes my heart, however I’d appreciate it more if it was on his tour schedule. It’s been a while.. And please don’t you tar everyone with the same brush. Russia is a land of contradictions. Remember, vodka in teacups ) take care x

  2. The Lonely Greenoakian says:

    oh how words can easily jump out and punch you straight in the mush
    blackeyed and dishevelled the truth from ones own heart hurts more than the truths/falsehoods from the pale thin faces who regularly hang /slouch/mope around
    imaginations creating epic scenes from ones heavy heart
    romances and dramas played out but only i know the script
    maybe you would know it
    do you care to see it?
    first you have to see the horrors of reality
    if there is such a thing

  3. billiella says:

    WINE comes in at the mouth  
    And love comes in at the eye;  
    That’s all we shall know for truth  
    Before we grow old and die.  
    I lift the glass to my mouth,          
    I look at you, and I sigh.
    Billy Yeats

  4. julot_lunaire says:

    As usual back from the pub withintellectuals firing off their memories of higher highest
    You are welcome here, beneath and beyond what fear I’v e conglomerated \
    Noowonderfire picksup o n dry cunt

    read this code multiple of easter half eggs:

    35 eqgf ucguqp etguegpv
    uc4 11 f i

    key under the Trev

    xxx J

  5. Mara says:

    Long time since you’ve been around here posting new writings :) I love the way this piece overflows honesty and to me personally it always seems like you’re “definitely,maybe..” in the writings, so here in this one too. You were amazing at Nambucca the other evening. Looking forward to next gigs in London and pleeeeeeeease write more often and make a new album, we are desperately crying for one! All the best to you, such an inspiration to me..and many many others :)

  6. MisterJohnSourly says:

    if only it was like that when I was fucking about with oils and foils. For me it was only uppity stems and foily downs with a 40 year old ex-stripper prostitute who looked like she was 50 something and i was a 24 year old construction worker……..anyway…………….

    Kill that awful wreck
    That reek
    Let set go, writhe to and fro
    Be gone

    Horrible illusory skin of thi(gh)ne
    Be gone, be done, finished, dust
    Even though was thrust upon a soul
    Blow on

    Away you go
    You’re a lie to be sold
    Now shoulders turn
    And rightly so

    But if and in case
    Someone should know
    The real man under clouds so low
    Tell him I send some smoke up high

    With prayer and tobacco I fire my pipe

    Ahneen Boozhoo Gitchie Manitoo
    Welcome and hello to you
    It’s obscene what some will do
    Conjuring constructs ugly untrue

    Help a friend, ma’iingan too
    The healing song transcending through
    The cultures of a friendly few
    Of which the last they stand

  7. Outside of Listening to The Queen is Dead Over & Over. & Shambles Life Can be a Complete Bore
    Thanks b to you I Take My Trips to Albion via a mouse on My Right Hand & Monitor! Yikes. Life is Grand
    Life is Soooo Complicated. Alas we have Love, Music and Monkey Shines. You Are Appreciated Peter