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Showing posts from July, 2010

B is for 7 am Vamps

when light comes, we hide behind even the smallest sliver of shade. quick! light is upon us. moral vampires. feeding off the pranic energies of others. quick! to the shade. away from criticism, judgment... and excitement. for out of the light is safety for our dark deeds. better to be secretly sad than to be brazenly happy...

written on my cell phone. i get thoughts a lot. i must edit and book them in my project.

B is for Picker Girls

She clings to me like picker on rugged jeans.
She clings to me…
Won’t let me go.
She clings to me like picker on rugged jeans
If I touch her I’ll be pained again.

Wrap my arms round the thorns
The blood enhances the scent of roses
Needlessly vicious.
Should I die to become victorious?

She clings to me like picker on rugged jeans.
She clings to me…
Won’t let me go.
She clings to me like picker on rugged jeans
If I touch her I’ll be pained again.

Five to fourteen needle points
Pricks my heart
It beats a thousand beats a second
Five to fourteen needle points
Do not cling to me like the pickers that I walked through
That stay on my clothes like yesterday’s sweat
And cologne
You,
You nah.
You, you little prick.
You who make your bed beneath me
Stuck in the fabric
Stuck in the pores
Stuck to me like a pain in a roving blade of grass
Or a rose…

Five to fourteen needle points
Pricks my heart
It beats a thousand beats a second
Five to fourteen needle points

She clings to me like picker on rugged jeans.
She clings to me…
Won’t l…

B is for... Things

You know that thing?
That thing within you.
That thing that you know you have to do but don’t; because to do… that thing you SHOULD DO seems all the more ominous. So we fight against it.
fight – hard!
But the thing is…
The thing about that thing that seems ominous is that perhaps if you, I, we look into that thing.
It may altogether become less ominous.
It may very well free you!
That thing nah?

pax
© 26:07:10
tracy j h

B is for Electoral Ink

Electoral ink,
In your eye.
Bloodshot promises you disguise.
Hide you truth behind the shades.
Hear that sound?
It’s the lie brigade.
Burn your ballot.
On a pyre.
Henceforth speak of your desire.
Wipe your hands from all this ink.
Wipe your mind, no more to think.
Of bloodshot promises.
In the eye.
The sum total of all our lies.

Tracy j Hutchings
© July 26th, 2010

B is for Phone Poetry

Go to bed dry and hope to wake up the same
The shame of wanting.
Life on this cold belly.
I should’ve been on a belly.
Took the moral high ground
Cock. Bull. Same Story.
Watch the world run down like sweat on my face.
Salty.
I hear her kiss is sweet.
Still I stay…
Away.

Away from touching
And grabbing
And sucking in oxygen wrapped in pores
Wide open
For me
If I wanted to…
And I did want to.
BUT FOR the honor of Deity.
Instead of the love of…

Of Wanting

© Tracy J Hutchings - 15/07/10

B is for AdMan

last night i said to a friend of mine, "i live in a world where a skinny art boy an a slightly bigger copywriter wrote an international concept where people at present ask the old spice guy to PROPOSE TO THEIR GIRLFRIEND... FOR THEM. i...can't get my client to say 'no purchase necessary' in a promotion. wondrous"

he responded: "colonialism"
he is indeed the master of the short tongue.

i'm a copywriter, which basically means i write all those captions under the pretty graphics. that's what i do. sometimes i like to think i am capable of actual thought, but really what i am is a caption correspondent trying to get my clients to understand that there is in deed life on other planets.

now this is not naivety; almost ten years in advertising tells you - GET OVER IT! but:
when my client shrieks at the idea of creating targeting material
when my client gives me a half assed brief targeting THE WRONG... TARGET
when my client says they want a rootsy jingle when…

B is for Walking Home

The places my mind goes i cannot follow
So i breathe a laboured breath;
Keep these hands under my sheets.
The ambiguity of my actions led me to...
A lone nes'
There is no warmth on this planet.
iFroze.
The further away from the Son iWent
iFroze.
Rejected His Light and Her Gravitational Pull
...collective comfort...
My mind stores up the "shouldas"
And often hitchhikes to warmer climates.
Like maybe the birth of my child,
Or dancing with my lover.
Places iRefuse to go.

© Tracy J Hutchings 12:07:10

B is for Narrative (bullery defined)

the sign on the bottle said chewable. i thought about it and i realised i never chewed... a bull! i've had cow. but i've never had bull. i don't think i would be able to anyhow. i thought - "i've got to share this with my friend..." the vegetarian.

"i never heard so much bull in my life." he said.

"but think about it," i countered, "what do you suppose bull tastes like? you think it has the same texture as heifer or maybe it's got more... you know."

"no, i don't. i'm a vegetarian." he turned to walk away. "you need a good bull, you know that?!
find some girl nah."

i looked at the bottle again. i thought of the cows i knew.
"what 'bout that darkie you was checking?" he asked by the door.

i looked up from the bottle that started this bullery - "what, that bovine? please."

he sucked his teeth, flailed his hands and muttered... "such a buller eh. jeez."

i looked closer to th…

B is for Work (simple enough)

the universe is built on, demands and responds to principles. even in the simplest things.
you never really hear of the guy who wins the Lotto by casually picking a quick pick (although there are the odd exceptions i'm sure)

the universe demands work and a process. think. what numbers should i play? are these the right numbers? did i bet enough? even if the human walks into the booth; shades any random number and waits, there is still an action at work (ha! action at work!).
maybe even a prayer to guide us on our way...

pax