Friday, April 29, 2011

Agatha Loves Her Some Creepy




DEADLY DELIGHTS FROM DOWNUNDER

by  AGATHA FALKNER


Gidday!

I'm writing in this week from a different Location. A nice little watering hole I stumbled into after a long day  running around from meeting to review and back again. Not one of my regular haunts, but you know what they say, whether I'm at the back of bourke or hitting the big cities, you just  never know what you will come across in your travels.  There is a whole world out there to discover, and I have found that, it's whilst going walk-a-bout in those off the beaten track locations(so to speak), I seem to find my rarer, hidden gems, or unpolished diamonds,  just waiting to be discovered by me, while I'm out here, exploring some new and exciting territory.

Let me give you an example.  I was out the other evening, after running from book launch to book signing, and let me tell you, I was hanging for a bevvie or two. Been burning the Midnight oil.  I found a respectable drinking establishment. It was the end of the week, and I was knackered.  All I wanted to do was knock back a couple of gin and tonics, with a twist of lime of course.  But you know me, 2 became 3, and next thing I'm onto the mescal straight up!  After a solid hour of doing my research, I took a few moments to stretch my legs, and back, and to have a squiz around the place.  From the corner of my eye, I notice a book,  sitting on top of a pile of those trendy magazines entitled  “You Can't Play A Player” 

Well the title alone certainly aroused my curiosity.  I had a quick read of the cover, and saw that it was written by some bloke called Thaddeous "Creepy" Rollins.  I'd never heard of him, so I flipped through a couple of pages, and what I saw, was something quite unexpected.  Matey, I'm here to tell you, there is a whole pool of talent out there,  waiting to be discovered.  And this book is a prime example. So much so, that even in my slightly (ok absolutely) blotto state, I know a great thing when I see it. This is one discovery that is too awesome to pass over, and I must tell my readers all about it!

From what I read in this enlightening and edgy piece of work...now mind you...it does not contain proper grammar, or a language your average reader will be familiar with, but is written in its most purest, rawest,  and highly believable form.  It really does have an air of authenticity to it, that most of these bullshit Bobby Dazzlers could ever come up with in a million years.


So a bit about the book This is where I got hooked right from the outset, the premise.

A one night stand leads two people into a web of lies, deceit, double cross and murder as a young woman, desperate to save her sister from a life of drug abuse and prostitution. Goes undercover and hooks up with a man she thinks can help her maneuver the streets filled with hoods and thugs and bring her close enough to the pimp that is controlling her sister. When they finally confront the pimp and buys her sisters way out of the life, the man wants to go back and rob the pimp , that he knew from before, of the other money that he knows he got.

Who writes stuff like this?!  This is hot stuff!  Fully Sic! This is one bonza bloke!
So...why do these up and coming authors always seem to get shoved on the overpass, when quite clearly, they are showing incredible initiative, superb imagination, and masterful talent  (not by conventional standards, but by keeping it REAL standards).  People will go berserk for this kind of real life depiction.  It's streetwise, and highly insightful.  It's a window into worlds that most of us will never get to experience or have to deal with.  The daily dilemmas of living the hard life on the real streets. Here’s an excerpt I thought you might
enjoy….




…so I was sittin’ at my spot, right. Chillin, minding my own biness , you know,  getting my drank on. Now understand that I wasn’t out on the creep or nothing like that. Just tryna get a grip on some thangs in my mind, you know, and needed some atmosphere. The place was hella crowded, right, music  banging, motha fucka’s was in the back slinging. Can’t get mad at ‘em though.  A fella gotsta get his cheese. That’s real talk. Just as long as they ain’t up in here, acking a fool to where can’t nobody else enjoy themselves. Or doing shit that gone cause the police to roll up.


I’m at the bar, right, ‘bout to order me some chicken wings when I look over to my left and notice this baby girl got her head on tilt. She scoping me right, all up and down. I knew she was liking what she was seeing. Even though I wasn’t sporting one of my vine’s or none of my ice. I smiled at her though, right. Told my boy Ant, the bartender to slide her some Hennessy. So now I’m peeping her back right, and I gotsta say, bootylicious. I mean, baby girl was bricked out. A redbone too. Make a fella wanna cuss when he see something that look that good. Which I did, I said to myself. “Motha fucka”.

Anyway, Ant serves her up, right. Now here she come, tryna contain herself, looking all serious. Gone ax me what’s up with me right.  I put my best mack down on her, you know, woo, woo. Then next thing I know she talking ‘bout getting ghost wit a brother right. At first I was like, damn, I ain’t tryna get with no braud tonight, but then I told myself to just go with the flow. We skyed up and fell in over at her crib right. She showed me around her place and all. Baby girl  had it all plushed out. Next thing I know, I’m all up in them boots rights. Blam! I have to admit that I beat it up for awhile, you know, like it was for the world championship.

The next morning I was finna leave but after giving a brother all the butter and sugar he could handle the night before, it was no surprise to me that when I woke up she had already fixed some grits, bacon and eggs. So I figured I would eat before I bounced. I sat down with her, you know, got my grub on. She served me some coffee too. Sitting there thinking, I figured a brother could get used to this. Yeah everything is perfect. Everything was too is perfect, but  still, something ain't right…..


Here's the thing.  If guys like the author of this book, Thaddeous "Creepy" Rollins were given even half a chance, with the natural born killer instincts they possess, they would run rings around these pretentious Clayton dipsticks that are hiding behind fancy titles, who crumble  like a flake when the real shit hits the fan.  The REAL talent is actually right under our noses,  right here...they are tough, streetwise, witty, and highly skilled at their game, legit, the real deal!...oh and did I mention, a good perv.  I tell you, I wouldn't mind getting tanked and having a bit of a pash with this Thaddeuos bloke, especially if he's wearing a pair of budgie smugglers. Until next time Matey's



Written by Rory and Divina


©rj2011 ©Divina








Saturday, April 23, 2011

Circumstantial Evidence



it was in the middle of having one of those days
where inside I was feeling somewhat contentious
at the time I wasn’t content with (you name it)
I began considering what (exactly) would be the benefits
…of changing my ways
found myself seeking the counsel of intoxication
not sure why

despite any self imposed ruinations
I do believe that with a new sunrise comes the of opening your eyes
shortly after hitting the block
I came across this brother
his circumstances appeared to be worse than mine
I don’t think he had a place that he called home
unkempt and jagged around the edges
one could tell it had been a while since his hair had been comb
his clothes were ripped and ready to fall off
…and he wreaked badly of alcohol

he approached and says to me, “give me penny, as raggedy as I am”
I said “brother if I had it to give I would”
“got damn”, “that’s what I’m talking about man”,
“everybody taking but ain’t nobody giving”
“I didn’t figure you for one of them”, his reproach
“give me a penny, as raggedy as I am”

He then whisks out a bottle of Thunderbird from one of his pockets. Quickly he twists off the top, takes a couple of swigs and hands the bottle over to me. I recognized the gesture. The brother had given unto me everything he had. A sort of communing.

mad and filled with strife
he needed to be heard
he spoke with some very choice words

told me about how he had tried to make a nice life
paid his taxes
wore the latest fashions
thanked God and lived it up on Friday night
then went to church every Sunday and gave God his tithe
only to come home one day to find someone ran off with his wife

making things worse
he kept getting passed over for promotions
having grown tired of his bosses inertia
he finally raised a commotion and suddenly
…found himself without a job

It was then, according to him, when he made the discovery that keeping up with the Joneses meant keeping oneself fully supplied with the vice they jones for.

After taking a couple of drinks and carefully examining my own thoughts. I returned the bottle to him and went on my way. Wondering if this (his life story, our meeting on the street) is what God wrought?

thinking
questioning
taking in consideration
jonesing for understanding

deviating from my proclivities
needing to calm my nerves

(found my own bottle)

as I began to drown my anxieties
these thoughts emerged

why it is that we continue to live
against the principles of evolution
is beyond my ability to comprehend
how can man claim dominion without having solutions

prosperity for everyone
a concept long lost to
…the profits at all cost demand
instead we are enslaved by a system disguised as democracy

why is it that our cultures still live mostly segregated
rather than fully engaging the differences
we refuse to trust each other, holding fast to trepidation
while  also bringing forth carnage over which is the right religion

apparently we have been successfully propagandized
to the point of becoming collectively docile
confused, desensitized, waiting for Armageddon to crystallize

yet to have the true nature of our consciousness roused



Rory



©rj2011



Monday, April 4, 2011

Someone In Mind




much like when the sun, moon, and earth
… are in perfect alignment
as their combined forces cause the spring tides to occur
such is my attraction to her
each day I gravitate to pictures of her
reiterating to myself, how fine I think she is
at least in my eyes
wishing to have her as mine
I begin to imagine
stopping myself and... starting again
the pleasantries in my mind turn mischievous
once more here I go
caution thrown to the wind
admittedly I just can’t resist
she is, just so voluptuous
her lips
it’s like I can already feel their tenderness
a slow waltz of soft, gentle, seemingly endless kisses
placed all over each other’s physical presence
together kindred spirits laying
adoration, exploration
absorbing the delicate contrasts of our skin
breathing in one another’s essence
breathing becoming breathless
my imagination getting the better of me
I stop myself and... start all over again
evening has fallen
ambiance
lust
surrender
belief
intensity
her lavishing me
me caressing her
together our bodily responses become
heightened radiance
relishing in the idea of (the day will come)
smiling
imagining

Rory


©rj2011



Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Prayer Request



Invocation


having decided to turn the page
that something may be done about the internal battle
…being fought within
the spiritual warfare that my psyche relentlessly wages
I began to care again
…and it was right about then, she caught my eyes

flowers were sent

so too her favorite perfume
daily greetings met with  enthusiasm, smiles,  laughter


somehow I believed we had both become attuned
to what the other wanted and needed
taking delight in visions of what I hoped would become
the happily ever after

I couldn’t have been more wrong because before long
she became another nay sayer,  making excuses

once again anger began to perfuse my body
slammed my fist on the table, looked to the heavens

…and made it known that I was done with that prayer


what ever happened to getting excited
how does one not allow love walk through the door

after inviting it in
poor judgment on my part I guess, this I must accept
seems that page wasn’t turned at all

…because I’m still confronted with the same mess

people hearing but not listening to what you say
people hell-bent on accumulating accolades
people unwilling to meet you halfway


tired, so very tired I’ve gotten of people playing me close
testing my mettle to the point to where I could just explode
their one-upmanship
like their capitalistic callousness deems them exempt
the thought of human connectedness, I dare not attempt
I look to heavens realizing I’m done with that prayer

Cessation

Rory

©rj2011






Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Still Invisible

finally it got to the point to where
I was no longer willing to listen
to the voices that kept vying for my attention
distracting me rather
that sanctimonious vitriol they kept spewing
damn know it all’s
with their envy ….and…
passing of judgments

pretty boy, nigga with the good hair, who do you think are,
ain’t going to amount to nothing,
always finding something wrong (the crap I used to hear)


all that and still they would manage to seek my counsel
wondering why I would choose not to come around
often times I would stand above it all
but mostly I was being standoffish
never allowing anyone to get close enough
due to my attitude drifting towards the acrimonious
I needed someone around me that would talk sensibly
especially since my actions began bordering on the felonious

had me questioning my identity while my motives were being questioned, where are my answers? Where is my love? Where is my confidant? (the concerns within my prayers)

all my primary vision ever contained really
was the person who would drop everything whenever I called
we could share moonlit walks accompanied with heart to heart talks
taking simple things and transforming them into the bon vivant
understanding, knowing
not just superfluous words but actually showing one another
a love indivisible
this is what I choose to give


Rory


©rj2011






Sunday, March 13, 2011

Invisible

it was that kiss
firmly planted on a cheek unreceptive
the reaction was cold, numb, isolative
like ocean waves retreating from the shore
i remember feeling pushed away

trying desperately to process the negation

aren’t kisses expressions of love?
aren’t kisses at the very least, supposed to make everything better

an instinctual act born out of spontaneity
how could I have known any better 

i was only mimicking
…and these were not the sensations I had expected
my sense of security transitioning into uncertainty
then those familiar, adoring eyes landed upon me


whisked away into the reassuring bosom
soft hymns quietly soothing my anxiety
reminding me that everything was going to be okay
a kaleidoscope ideas appears before me
as steadily I was  being rocked to sleep
what developed inside me was…a knowing

i knew what my intuition was telling me
uttering my first mantra
if i could only get past this point
i knew when I was to grow up
it would be better for me to be invisible
so my kiss never again would confuse things


thus began the squalor which became my life

spoiled
 selfish
  temperamental
   impatient
    inattentive
     lazy
      defiant
       careless
        ineffective

          imprisoned




i remain all of those things
working moment to moment in effort to release them
only now I let my intentions be carried by the wind

that they may merge with the tides
...and the mountains in the distance

hopefully recognized for what they truly are, and received

Rory

©rj2011



Thursday, March 3, 2011

Beyond Known Quantity

A story told in senryu


Pathway To Emptiness


 

what I wanted most
to have her heart and spirit
could not be obtained

******

More Than This


intimacy fades
when our aberrant pleasures
turn indifferent


******


Fathoming



far greater must be
the experience which
transcends the physical

******

Obstacle Course




scars hidden deeply
  gives love little chance when trust
was stole long ago


******


Recogn(eyes)




she wondered if the
look in my eyes was also
the love she now felt


******


Lucid Dream(s)




...and if I were to
ask that we meet on Venus
would I see her there?

Rory

©rj2011