30 June 2012


Five years eight months, bored ignored, refused and misused, dismayed and waylaid, stitched up and filched up; supplanted and taken for granted.

  • Sluiced truced n abused.

  • Slaved, slithed and scythed.

  • Robot in the corner, Little Jack Horner, toving the line.

  • Filched and filthed. Elginisiamos'd, crossed and bossed ~ no-one gives a toss.

    For the first time, I'm living in Greece. Living in me and for me.

  • Sing it John Lee. Lawd have mercy, git up singin' and crying.

    For the first time the pool has echoed to happy laughter.

    Dulling demoralising duplicitous dementia, where's your fucking sting now?

  • sarah Easy chatter, 21st century chatter, said once and moved on. No repetitious regurgitation.

  • 68 months of simpering guests who couldn't identify a fridge and needed me summoned to point it out, pluck a tsitsibirra and show them how to take the cap off. (OK, so it frothes mightily but, like, they can't stain their party frocks.)

  • My bunch, if they wanted something they'd find the 'kitchen' and deduce where the fridge n where the fuck and how to read a label between beer and Bacardi.

  • cp raised handStrum Pert ~ no big deal. I strewed the strings around and those who could did and those who couldn't still did.

  • guitar in basketWe twanged of youth and self-respect and even-handed dignity.

  • Not a single mention of vile gardenry

  • cp legsWe cosseted, cuddled, huggled and muggled.

  • Cajoled and jumped parole.

    Teased and said 'please' and 'thank-you' and listened and glistened and swam under water and fondled where we didn't perhaps oughta.

  • Everything was new and possible.

  • The house lived and we lived in it and for it.

  • Everything was glorious: the weather was glorious, we were glorious and we glorified in clean pool pumping, and our blood thumping ... and I felt as if i was in Greece.

    chThe kids all cool in Gouvia,
    No matter bling bereft,
    They got luluthia choking
    On its own stench of theft.

  • More photos. No excuse not to churn out more text.



    Anonymous said...

    Dig the poetry!

    Corfucius said...

    thanks about the poetry. as u know, its v bad but it chugs out in the raqe and i think of it as if with a guitar. i will go back n improve it as i go along or i add more pensees.
    that doesnt improve with tampering is the modified cee-lo verse which i must leave alone:

    Cruising thru Gouvia
    Baubles bereft
    Where even the luluthia
    Have the stench of theft.

    that nails the jewel filch spot on.