The King and I - very pretty uplifting song.

There's oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me.

Banana Dance - Josephine Baker! Wonderful.

Lovely.

Oh isn't he lovely!

I love the new doctor! Just saying.

Paupers' Christmas. I got a Sonic Screwdriver!

Third Year Work.

'What I Will' - Suheir Hammad

“What I Will” 

by Suheir Hammad

What I Will
by Suheir Hammad

I will not
dance to your war
drum. I will
not lend my soul nor
my bones to your war
drum. I will
not dance to your
beating. I know that beat.
It is lifeless. I know
intimately that skin
you are hitting. It
was alive once
hunted stolen
stretched. I will
not dance to your drummed
up war. I will not pop
spin beak for you. I
will not hate for you or
even hate you. I will
not kill for you. Especially
I will not die
for you. I will not mourn
the dead with murder nor
suicide. I will not side
with you nor dance to bombs
because everyone else is
dancing. Everyone can be
wrong. Life is a right not
collateral or casual. I
will not forget where
I come from. I
will craft my own drum. Gather my beloved
near and our chanting
will be dancing. Our
humming will be drumming. I
will not be played. I
will not lend my name
nor my rhythm to your
beat. I will dance
and resist and dance and
persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than
death. Your war drum ain’t
louder than this breath.

A bit of chess with Death.

Don't blink.

A Totemic Muntjac.

Hiya,

Can you see the moon tonight? It’s pretty fab. The other day I was looking up and the moon had this super eerie apocalyptic glow around it; I'm glad that’s gone. I wonder if the night sky looks the same in India or Russia, I mean of course it doesn't because it's a different sky, but I wonder if you can tell whether it's a Russian or Indian sky. Perhaps there is something that gives it away, some sort of familiarity or some identifiable quality that lets you know where you are. When I look up at an Australian sky it’s vast and wild. But when I look up at an English sky I feel sort of protected it's somehow cozier and more forgiving. I suppose the nature of the antipodean, its vastness, distance and enormity is in some way reflected in the sky. I guess the ambiance of the surrounding environment manipulates your observation of up above. The outback, the bush, epitomizes the wild and vast. It’s frightening and dangerous, incredibly beautiful but fucking scary and you can see that in the sky. If you get lost in the Australian bush it can be terminal, it often is. However if you get lost in the woods in England you can just keep walking and eventually you will meet a town or road, its so much more forgiving. I got lost in English woods once it was quite beautiful really (it started to snow), although looking back I was pretty freaked out. Have you ever heard of a muntjac? It’s sounds a bit dirty but it's actually a midget dear. They're really weird looking animals; anyway I encountered one on my adventure in the Hertfordshire woods when I got lost. Before I saw it I heard it. I thought there must have been some brutal slaughtering taking place. They sound awful! They bark but it sounds like a long painful cry mixed with a hiccough. As odd as they are they're sort of sweet, in a demented kind of way. Anyway this muntjac ended up following me for a good hour and when I finally began to find my way back, after four hours of being lost, I felt as though this awkward animal had become my totem animal and my protector, obviously I would have preferred to feel a kin to a more glamorous and glorious animal, however the muntjac will do just fine. A little while ago I met an extraordinary man on the street. He was an indigenous elder and standing on the corner of Bourke and Swanston we talked for what felt like forever. He explained to me that he is never held down, or held back by anything, he spoke of his spirit and how it didn't belong to him but to the land. He told me that he could just walk into the bush and 'get lost', however he doesn't get lost because he understands and respects the land and by understanding and respecting, in turn, the land protects him and guides him. I wonder if he sees, when he looks at the sky, something wild and vast or something forgiving and protective, I think he would probably see it all, wild, vast, forgiving and protective. Actually I don’t know what he would see, I bet you its beautiful though – I think regardless of how you see it, it’s always going to be sublime. 

I can’t see the moon anymore, so I think I will head to bedfordshire.  

Good night,

Lex

Kubla Khan - Coleridge.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 

A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills, 

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted

Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !

A savage place ! as holy and enchanted

As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted

By woman wailing for her demon-lover !

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,

As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,

A mighty fountain momently was forced :

Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst

Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,

Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :

And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever

It flung up momently the sacred river.

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion

Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,

Then reached the caverns measureless to man,

And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :

And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far

Ancestral voices prophesying war ! 

The shadow of the dome of pleasure

Floated midway on the waves ;

Where was heard the mingled measure

From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,

A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !

A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw :

It was an Abyssinian maid,

And on her dulcimer she played,

Singing of Mount Abora.

Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air,

That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !

And all who heard should see them there,

And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !

His flashing eyes, his floating hair !

Weave a circle round him thrice,

And close your eyes with holy dread,

For he on honey-dew hath fed,

And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Beautiful Polly. At beautiful Monksgrange.

This trumpet in my head. My Bohemian Pa. I hear you.

The Waitress. Atmosphere.

-The Waitress-


-Atmosphere-

A city full of people and my favorite is that waitress
And she treats me like some type of common vagrant
I see her everyday, but there's nothing to say
Unless I decide to step inside of that cafe
I only get to sit if I buy something to eat
Otherwise it's best to keep my feet moving down that street
And god damn she's a hard bitch
Talks at me like I'm the bad dog that got into the garbage
Yeah I know that the toilet is for customers
You ain't got to tangle up the strings to make this puppet work
It doesn't have to be a game of patty cake
But it ain't like you don't know I sleep in that alleyway
And by the way, I can see it in your eyes
You're angry with your life, not a stranger to the fight
I bet you hate every man that you date
And you're probably addicted to all types of escape
You take it out on me that you're all alone
When you know you got your own closet full of hollow bones
Watch the tone when you speak to old folks
I'm grown, just trying to get out of this Minnesota cold

Look lady, I'm homeless, I'm crazy
I'm so hopeless I'm suicidal daily
If you and I can't co-exist, let's fake it
Cause I ain't got the energy it takes for this relationship

I'm waiting for a city bus to flatten me
And transport me to the ever after happily
Maybe reincarnated with luck
Come back to Earth as a cockroach in your tip cup
She said she's had it up to here
She's gonna call authorities if I don't disappear
I love her threats, it rejuvenates my breath
I give her stress for the reaction that it gets
I got a pocket full of clean, handled money
On a cup of bad coffee and a stale honey bun
In front of everyone she calls me bum
But she notices my absence on them afternoons I don't come
So here I am, thorn in her hip
Holding down the corner table all morning with some corn chips
Ignoring the insults and evil eyes
I feed off of 'em, I wonder when she'll realize
That she's the only reason I visit
The only woman in my world that acknowledges my existence
And if my ship ever comes, I'll miss it
Because I'm getting old and I ain't got much left to give it
So there it is and I have to live with it
I had the chance to make a difference, but I didn't
In the cafe bathroom drinking free tap water
Thinking: "Damn, I should've been a better father to my daughter" 

Gymnopedies. J.P. Contamine de Latour. Les Antiques/ The Ancient

Oblique et coupant l'ombre un torrent éclatant Ruisselait en flots d'or sur la dalle polie Où les atomes d'ambre au feu se miroitant Mêlaient leur sarabande à la gymnopédie

Slanting and shadow-cutting a flickering eddy Trickled in gusts of gold to the shiny flagstone Where the ambre atoms in the fire mirroring themselves Mingled their sarabande to the gymnopaedia

Kiss Me - Sixpence None the Richer

The Donkey - G.K Chesterton

When fishes flew and forests walked,
And figs grew upon thorn.
Some moment when the moon was blood
then surely i was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry,
and ears, like errant wings.
The Devils walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
of ancient crooked will.
Starve, scourge, deride me; I am dumb
I keep my secret still:

Fools! for i also had my hour
one far fierce hour and sweet.
There was a shout about my ears
And palms before my feet.

Fat Freddy's Drop - Ray Ray

15 feet of Pure White Snow - Nick Cave.

Into My Arms - Nick Cave

For my Mum! Sergei Rachmaninov prelude in c# Minor.

Danse Macabre - Camille Saint Saens - L. Angelov & V. Eschkenazy. I love this piece so much! I would give anything to be able to play it.

The Dubbuffett Cave - The man is quite simply a genius!

Jean Dubbuffet! Je T'aime.

Venus, Gay Bars and Organic Cider. Copyright Lex Palmer Bull

The Snake by Oscar Brown Jr.

On her way to work one morning

Down the path along side the lake A tender hearted woman saw a poor half frozen snake His pretty colored skin had been all frosted with the dew "Poor thing," she cried, "I'll take you in and I'll take care of you" "Take me in tender woman Take me in, for heaven's sake Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake She wrapped him all cozy in a comforter of silk And laid him by her fireside with some honey and some milk She hurried home from work that night and soon as she arrived She found that pretty snake she'd taken to had bee revived "Take me in, tender woman Take me in, for heaven's sake Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake She clutched him to her bosom, "You're so beautiful," she cried "But if I hadn't brought you in by now you might have died" She stroked his pretty skin again and kissed and held him tight Instead of saying thanks, the snake gave her a vicious bite "Take me in, tender woman Take me in, for heaven's sake Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake "I saved you," cried the woman "And you've bitten me, but why? You know your bite is poisonous and now I'm going to die" "Oh shut up, silly woman," said the reptile with a grin "You knew damn well I was a snake before you took me in "Take me in, tender woman Take me in, for heaven's sake Take me in, tender woman," sighed the snake

Australian Summer Night. copyright Lex Palmer Bull

Lily. Copyright Lex Palmer Bull