Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Saturday, September 30, 2006

South Lanarkshire mushroom season

All taken 30th September 2006, in the woods 15 minutes from my house.

The Empire of the Crow

and the dark angels held a party to celebrate the dawning of the empire of the crow and to the party each of them brought a gift...

doriandra a cactus with a prickly skin and the scent of decadence

cocaine jesus a bottle labelled provocation

inkblot a bruised heart wrapped in razor wire

stickleback2, elegant celluloid

raven a cloth wrapped in menstrual blood that contains dark secrets

porcelain skull a mirror of skewed perspectives

killer luca, promiscuity in flesh with blush red lips

having delivered to you their exacting gifts it would be rude not to accept them, would it not?

visit the dark angels


your eyes
shimmer secrets
flash smiles
whisper confidences
and jagged edges
of broken dreams.

invisible bonds
stretched out in dark moonlight
between two pairs of eyes
hushed. with not a sound
to break the fragile thread
like a spider web
glistening in stray drops
of neon
by the weaver
and the world
in the background
of the voices droning on.

ur eyes
seek out mine
and whisper on
and on
and on.

my eyes fall
ur eyes smile
my eyes smile
ur eyes fall
endless games
and secret conversations
at night

silent questions
and pondering
gently probing
futures and possibities
what might have been
in a dream
or memories
of another time and place
where we werent u or me
did we meet?

echos ring
of laughter and song
in dark glades of old forests
by flickring firelight
flames stroke damp skin
warm hands
waves giggling on sombre sands
moonlight blanketting
silent nights

was it you
that shadow by my side
in my memories
of a my forgotten lives

what is that wet?
how did they get
so sad
ur eyes that can twinkle like that

what did you see
who made u weep
who took ur dreams
and twisted them
to stab u from behind
what brought those shades of sorrow to ur eyes,
sweet gentle child

ur every dream
i ever dreamed
wish u were mine

when i'm tucked in
the traces that werent wiped out with time
pull at the corner of my sheets with tiny hands
they echo in my mind
behind tightly closed eyes

confession - i was listening to creed (those eyes, that stare at me in the dark)

cross posted on verse and my blog


its just a memory
but so alive

a swirl of cotton
white. green bordered

soft warm skin
crinkled. wrinkled. white and pink

warm drinks and brandy
swapped escapades and memories

stories. of my beginning
yours.and journeys. one for every hour of day

stories of the beginnings of love
ours. yours. mine

talks. philosophy. logic. religion
lessons. how to walk. life

stars. moons. gentle warm sunshine
battles. tears. laughter

childhood troubles and worries
slowly growing up

all sorted, aired and put away
in your little black box

but its just a memory
and you're so dead

its that time of the year
to remember you

look at my body
and wonder at how you made it from yours

look at my yesterdays
and how you took me in

see how i've grown mamma
come back home again


the sun falls on your back in gentle waves
and wind comes in on your face
the week is done, and the accounts logged
the two days bonus free
life swerves and turns
you catch your breath and wait
for the monsters that this lap will bring
but its just days of gentle sunshine
and mild and gentle, near-happiness
once again, the song in ur head
says let it never end
all things said and done,
what a beautiful world
what a wonderful life


i've switched off my heart
and put it in my pocket
sheathed my words
and put them away
buried under the blueberries
on the way to the sunset
i cant forgive
u didnt teach me how
but sometimes
i try and forget ...
and now baby,
i've come home

walk in my shadow
put ur little hand in mine
and follow me in through the back door
i should have done this
years ago

if i'd opened my eyes
i'd have seen
their blackholes and red eyes could be locked in their bedroom
while u and i turned the key
baby, how could i not know
what my fear was doing to you

they're bad men and women
they're monsters and bastards
they're ugly and sweet
and fatally lovable

baby, ill let u play
this time ill watch out for u
this time i wont run away
this time i'll grit teeth and stay

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The death and evil merchants

A bit O reality porn perhaps?

Monday, September 25, 2006

another from the pen and lens merchants

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Snowy White
Vicious Bite!

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

The Few and The Many

these are the few,
the hindus,
the pagans,
the rastas,
the sikhs,
the shinto,
the buddhists,
the taoists.
these are the few that number two billion.

these are the many,
the jews
and the christians
and the muslims,
who number four billion and kill not only themselves
but also the few with their games of whose word of god is right.

why won't you listen to your singular god?
"thou shalt not kill"
why won't you practise what you preach?
"love thy neighbour"

and the few shall inherit the debris of death.

words by cocaine jesus

The water's in the refrigerator. get it yourself.will you?

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Our New Presidential Team in 2008!


I don't know about you, but I think these guys are the dream team for the next big election in the States. Do you think they want the job> Posted by Picasa


   `Fury said to a
mouse, That he
met in the
"Let us
both go to
law: I will
YOU. --Come,
I'll take no
denial; We
must have a
trial: For
really this
morning I've
to do."
Said the
mouse to the
cur, "Such
a trial,
dear Sir,
no jury
or judge,
would be
"I'll be
judge, I'll
be jury,"
old Fury:
try the

good morning, world! just a lil humour, with no implied rumour... and yet its spicy like all things dicy -- yhew! a very bad attempt at Carrollesque Poetry! :)

Sunday, September 17, 2006

edges - sharp edges

sometimes, amidst the happiest of your days
you suddenly are stuck in strife
of daylights that were gloom
and the nights that did bloom

people around are happy for you
or at least pretending to do so...

glorify or villify
sometimes, even with wings
one cannot just fly...

Copyright© Neerja Yadav

disclaimer: the pictures used in the collages are off the web - if the owner/creator has any objection, kindly let me know, this would be promptly taken off

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Fusion of Ideas

  Posted by Picasa
  Posted by Picasa

Nothing original of my making, but boy, what a happy marriage. Bush is next.


He taught the epic
his students wrote poetry
always talked of coffee and cigarette
sometimes they used alcohol
the lesser ones binged on sunlight and romance
acres of filth
words .wasted.
came home everynight
college gave over at 2pm
had philosophy classes at the pub.

Nailed tight.afraid.very afraid.

Swed leather . Warm milk. Gurgling tap water. Psycho.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Henry Morticular

a neat little rash developed on the back of his hand and spread along his arm forming the vague shape of a distant star system. an angry but attractive rash that glowed its poison when the lights went out.

words by cocaine jesus

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

destiny halved

a virtual painting by cocaine jesus


i hear the world in colours
i taste the world in music
but not like you
i shape my different contours
i float a little brick substance
somewhere distant
you dress the window with varnish
you fake the plastic with subtitles
now let it hang

words by cocaine jesus

heart stops heart hurts

dirt under fingernails
skin torn
flesh fails
skimmed heart bleeds

words by cocaine jesus

kiss my ring

i heard them whisper
with a lip curled snear
that my words ain't good enough.
is that so?
you think my metaphors a little rough?
well son, that strictly speaking is tough.
kiss my ring.
i heard them mutter
with a hand over mouth
that my storys are a little duff.
is that so?
you think me incapable of better stuff?
well son, strictly speaking fuck off.
kiss my ring.

words by cocaine jesus

dreaming of love between the wrong sheets

The Furnace aka Government Machine

Don't you hear the generator in the distance?bursting helter-skelter.
How do you feel by the end of the day?Are you sad because you're all alone? Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

figment of imagination

crumbled to numbness
she called sky drops
whirling in fanciful worlds
satin laced screams

spitting omenous dreams

The mask summons


Careful of that passing prop!

Words: Cocaine Jesus Pic: Stickleback2



Ghosts, like spasms,
tear into my belly.
Rarely adored,
their face is a trial
like witches burning in Salem.
Innocent, guilty--
They make me believe that
Satan, not God
reigns over us, laughing at tear-stained blurs,
our faceless spirits.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Words: Cocaine Jesus Pic: Stickleback2

Words: Cocaine Jesus Pic: Stickleback2

Words: Cocaine Jesus Pic: Stickleback2

please help



Sunday, September 10, 2006

Thistle Down

Two Brothers

The Haunting

Like the moon calls the ocean, when everyone's asleep
Like the night calls the day; silently
Like the love calls the young
Like death calls the weary

You called me
I'm sure you called
And I couldnt turn away
Woe is me

And now I'm here
Past the crossroads
My bridges flaming behind me
Dont turn me away, sweet; Dont turn me away?

I was sure I heard ur voice
But now you smile and turn away
And shrug and look perplxed, harrassed, in a polite way
Embarressed, I turn around. And walk back into the flames.

Like a Shadow behind me
Flickering, never going out
The ghost, of the memories, of the love
That I had imagined with you, trailing behind me

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Aldeburgh, Suffolk, UK

Obey Orders or Get Shot: San Francisco's Earthquake

  Posted by Picasa

Speaking of natural disasters, I'm having some trouble with the comments page. For some blogs, everything is great, for others the comments won't even show unless you hit the area next to your name. I am playing around like nuts, but I don't know what the fuck is the problem. Any advice is welcome.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Battlesbridge by Stickleback2 & Cocaine Jesus

the page of history had been torn from the book

screwed up


then thrown away.

then, as ledger books and pencils

caught the eye of market traders

and creatures of commerce

they took the wind blown fragment

of antiquity and smoothed out

its crumpled face


picture manipulation by STICKLEBACK2 with words by COCAINE JESUS

Thursday, September 07, 2006


The light seems always to be there. Perhaps hidden by hatred or fear or separateness or pain or ego or by simply not noticing.
Sometimes the sides close in and form a gauzy barrier; creating a disturbing distance from reality. If your lucky the barrier expands again -peaceful awareness of the light and thankful for its ever presence.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006


bleak bungalow

the rod of self loathing is a greasy pole,
it rusts the heart and corrodes the soul.
it casts a shadow that is dark and bleak,
a malignant tumour that leaves the spirit weak.
it defiles all love and defies all lust
and destroys your confidence in those you trust.

words by cocaine jesus

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Very Precious to Me

  Posted by Picasa

"Black eyes and face that float in dark"

(Taken 3rd September.)

cocaine jesus

at 52 and a half perhaps i really should grow up?
but i still find myself
and ever so slightly

your genial, if sometimes prickly, co-contributor
cocaine jesus


Monday, September 04, 2006


love is like the sand on the beach
after the wind has blown
the grains around a bit.
it becomes impossible to tell
one particle from another
when, truth to tell, it all feels like shit.

words by cocaine jesus

Saturday, September 02, 2006


(Taken 19th August - Lanark.)

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