And that is all.

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Saturday, March 26, 2011

You got Lent, I got Iggypent ~

Who is a GOD like you,
who pardons sin
and forgives the transgression
of the remnant of his inheritance?
You do not stay angry forever
but delight to show mercy.
~ Micah 7



Forgiveness. Whatta concept.
How radical of Iggy to remind people.

Friday, March 25, 2011

KUMQUAT 2012

Whoever speaks on their own
does so to gain personal glory,
but he who seeks the glory
of the one who sent him
is a man of truth;
there is nothing false about him.
~ John 7



EVERYBODY DANCE!

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet,
Praise him with the harp and lyre,
Praise him with timbrel and dancing,
Praise him with the strings and pipe,
Praise him with the clash of cymbals,
Praise him with resounding cymbals.
~ Psalm 150

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Neighborhood Threat

Has not Moses given you the law?
Yet not one of you keeps the law.
Why are you trying to kill me?
~ John 7



There's nothing to get...
I'm your neighborhood threat.

After Me Comes The Flood




Therefore put on the full armor of God,
so that when the day of evil comes,
you may be able to stand your ground,
and after you have done everything,
to stand.
~ Ephesians 6:13


I must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I, oh, must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice

Be afraid of the lame
They'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old
They'll inherit your souls
Be afraid of the cold
They'll inherit your blood
Apres moi, le deluge
After me comes the flood

I must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I, oh, must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice

Февраль. Достать чернил и плакать!
Писать о феврале навзрыд,
Пока грохочущая слякоть
Весною чёрною горит.

Fevrale dostat chernil i plakat,
Pisat O Fevrale navsnryd,
Poka grohochushaya slyakot
Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit.

I must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I, oh, must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice


The Russian is from a poem by Boris Pasternak
English translation:
February.
Get ink, shed tears.
Write of it, sob your heart out, sing,
While torrential slush that roars
Burns in the blackness of the spring

February. Get ink, shed tears.
Write of it, sob your heart out, sing,
While torrential slush that roars
Burns in the blackness of the spring.

Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas,
Race through the noise of bells and wheels
To where the ink and all you grieving
Are muffled when the rainshower falls.

To where, like pears burnt black as charcoal,
A myriad rooks, plucked from the trees,
Fall down into the puddles, hurl
Dry sadness deep into the eyes.

Below, the wet black earth shows through,
With sudden cries the wind is pitted,
The more haphazard, the more true
The poetry that sobs its heart out.

I'm not my own
it's not my choice

Gratuitous Tatas

REAL BOOBIES 2012!

Because of your father’s GOD,
who helps you,
because of the Almighty,
who blesses you
with blessings of the skies above,
blessings of the deep springs below,
blessings of the breast and womb...
~ Genesis 49

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

You're Wearing A Mask

I do not sit with the deceitful,
nor do I associate with hypocrites.
~ Psalm 26


You're wearing a mask
You look better that way.
Are you my friend ?
Are you my plumber ?
Are you my god ?
What do you do ?
Wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
Which mask are you ?
Complicated crushed up disappointed
squirming angry thrusting stabbing
regretting starving greedy
human alien being,
struggling down the street,
up the alley, in the elevator,
through the party, to the office,
in the bedroom,
on your way to the morgue.
Bullshitting, lying...
doing a good deed or feeling loved?
Barely possible.
Aware of insatiable demands
of not a society all around you.
Chunky frat boys in their shorts,
pimps with old semite eyes,
sex hoochies of the jungle,
sensitive smart alec college graduates,
critics fronting frantically in New York city,
every body in L.A just plain licking ass
or having it licked, irony in place of balls,
balls in place of brains,
brains in place of soul,
where is the soul?,
where is the love?,
where am I?

You're wearing a mask
which mask are you ?

Fun House

Your Majesty has issued a decree
that everyone who hears the sound
of the horn, flute, zither, lyre, harp, pipe
and all kinds of music
must fall down and worship
the image of gold
and that whoever does not fall down
and worship
will be thrown into a blazing furnace.
But there are some Jews
whom you have set over the affairs
of the province of Babylon
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego
who pay no attention to you,
Your Majesty.
They neither serve your gods
nor worship the image of gold
you have set up.
~ Daniel 3

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

We Don't Like Children Anyhow...

Therefore, you whore,
hear the word of the LORD!
This is what the Sovereign LORD says:
Because you poured out your lust
and exposed your naked body
in your promiscuity with your lovers,
and because of all your detestable idols,
and because you gave them
your children’s blood,
therefore....
I am going to gather all your lovers,
with whom you found pleasure,
those you loved as well
as those you hated.
I will gather them against you
from all around
and will strip you in front of them,
and they will see you stark naked.
~ Ezekiel 16



Leonard Cohen - The Future

Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!

Give me crack and anal sex
Take the only tree that's left
stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is murder.

Things are going to slide,
slide in all directions
Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant.

You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little Jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder.

Things are going to slide ...

There'll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and a white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'.

Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is murder.

Things are going to slide ...

When they said REPENT REPENT ...

Welcome To The Dalihouse

Jesus said to him:
Today salvation has come to this house,
because this man, too, is a son of Abraham.
~ Luke 19



Monday, March 21, 2011

The night is so black, that the darkness cooks...

This is the verdict:
Light has come into the world,
but people loved darkness
instead of light
because their deeds were evil.
~ John 3

She's a Business...

You whored yourselves
to the Assyrians too,
because you were insatiable;
and even after that,
you still were not satisfied.
Then you increased your whoring
to include Babylonia,
a land of merchants,
but even with this
you were not satisfied.
I am filled with fury against you,
declares the Sovereign LORD,
when you do all these things,
you brazen whore!
~ Ezekiel 16


... and business is good.

Sunday, March 20, 2011