...

Heap the sheep... Hefty, hefty...

I.K. Estbon

...

sun shine bird worm rise sap chick happy

...

Get those fucking advertising and marketing fucks off my fucking internets!!1!

...

Woke up bleary-eyed, realised I was about to waste another day and fell back down beneath the covers.

I.K. Estbon

...

Washing down, streets are cold and mean.

I.K. Estbon

...

young man take a look at yourself, i was once a young man taking a look at myself...

I.K. Estbon

...

With careful winks at each other we explain the true meaning of sight...

...

The day forgets the night, then remembers in mocking shock agony...

It seems that in the wake of great mental trauma it is the best time to generate insight through reflective clarity, yet we also feel so overwhelmingly heavy that reaching out and grasping it musters extraordinary will power. The will to change.

I.K. Estbon

...

Tell me, what was it like when the earthquake happened?

>The walls shook with fury, people were screaming, God's anger touched us all.

And were you scared?

>No, I was still in the grips of pleasure from a recent orgasm.

...

They call, they call...

...

birds, how sweet the sight...

I.K. Estbon

...

I create my own demons...

...

Hell...

03AUG10

when we fall,
ground ground
rushing up
from below

scream throaty silent fist-clenched screams
this is no ordinary dream

I.K. Estbon

reflective catharsis (31JUL10)

I sat pondering for some moments the roots of this apathy that I feel. Swirling within a haze of depression and occasional moments of clarity I saw the dreaded bleakness of future achievements ethereal and caught in a limbo of uncertainty. I was not challenging myself, within my abilities and life potential. There is no doubt that the achievements of some others are well beyond me, yet there would also be those who set achievements that would not strike me with great difficulty. However, I was not confronting my own personal journey. Ignoring all paths I could take and cowering within an uncertain pathetic face. If there could be some method of speech or thought that would spurn me on to greater personal satisfaction I am yet to find it. Paradoxically, I am more than aware that I am not happy within myself. Sometimes I wish I could be less elusive.

...

Some problems with motivation, damn myself. Avoiding all the kicks and finding no shoes of my own that deliver the blow... Find resolve, renew energy and achieve your ends before they meet you...

I.K. Estbon

...

I am terrible, I am self-destructing...

I.K. Estbon

...

Fancy a bite? Terrible weather I hope it clears up, rain pit-patting down my pants and into pockets on the floor...

Sometimes it accumulates into odd shapes, that I can't help but watch for their stability under windy conditions... They stand little chance against a gumboot-clad child, but let's not leave puddle jumping exclusively to the young ones... Little water hole, you stand little chance against me... Here I come!

I.K. Estbon

...

13:02:02 Capt. You happy?

13:02:04 F/O Takeoff check's complete. We're good.

13:02:05 TWR American six eight two, runway three one left cleared for takeoff.

13:02:08 F/O Let's do this Leeroy.

13:02:10 Capt. Thrust.

13:02:11 CAM [sound similar to increase in engine RPM]

13:02:22 F/O 80 knots.

13:02:24 Capt. V one. Rotate

13:02:26 Capt. V two.

13:02:29 Capt. Gear.

13:02:31 F/O Gear up.

13:02:33 F/O Flaps up. Climb.

13:02:36 F/O Shit!

13:02:37 CAM [sound of thump]

13:02:38 F/O We hit 'em, we hit 'em.

13:02:39 CAM [sound of several clicks]

13:02:40 Capt. Give me power.

13:02:41 CAM [sound similar to stick shaker]

13:02:42 F/O Engine two. Engine two.

13:02:43 Capt. Shut.

13:02:45 F/O Engine two shutdown.

13:02:46 Capt. Give me go around.

13:02:48 TWR Six eight two, roger go around.

13:02:49 CAM [sound similar to stick shaker]

13:02:50 CAM [sound of several clicks]

13:02:51 F/O Trim!

13:02:52 CAM [sound similar to stall warning]

13:02:53 F/O Leeroy.

13:02:54 Capt. I'm trying.

13:02:55 CAM [roaring noise starts and increases in amplitude]

13:02:56 CAM [sound similar to stall warning]

13:02:57 F/O Hold the son-of-a-bitch

13:02:58 CAM [sound of grunt]

13:02:59 TWR American six eight two, you have priority for landing.

13:03:02 F/O Fuck!

13:03:03 CAM [whoop whoop pull up]

13:03:04 CAM [sound similar to stick shaker]

13:03:05 Capt. Oh god!

13:03:06 CAM [whoop whoop pull up]

13:03:07 F/O Leeroy...

13:03:08 Capt. I'm sorry.

13:03:10 CAM [crashing noise of impact]

13:03:11 END of RECORDING

24JUL10

He heightens the sensation of water on skin by bubbling the blue bong of visions with electric smoke-fuzz producing eagerness

Ah shower, how good you feel trickling drip-drip down merry skin
he thinks

The post-soak towel-dry is met with less enthusiasm, but for a satisfied cleansed togetherness on his pale-skin body

Will achievements spring forth after my water-nozzled purifying bong-bubble session
he muses

...

Dread. Dread. Dread. Dread. I feel dread, dread, dead.

I.K. Estbon

...

raaah-squeee*grup-up*ve-tooo-beh-trooo-laaah-kye
-jahka-ko-koh^jah-bat (feel it)
coreee-eee-eee-eh*broop-peh*tell -dig

(yeah)

(bring)

-corooo-ooo-poo-ooo-loo-peh^jak

-vrooop -vrooop-peh (yeah)
colli-doll-truuu-ooo-peh sell-ler-sell-lep^collie
-crooop-pschhh-schhh-schoope-eee (kill it)

(give)

I.K. Estbon

...

Very walk we hop along the flower-encrusted path to great delight a step-skip sing-merry...

I.K. Estbon

...

Attack of the noise tweet ringing high-pitched fuzz police...

Dreaming of small nocturnal marsupials burrowing under the blankets, stay warm little creatures. Stay warm...

I.K. Estbon

...

Self-criticised thoughts seep into those pickled tomatoes you put away last season and slowly infuse themselves with the rich tuscan flavours that you intend to delight yourself with at a latter and as yet unspecified date. The day comes when you serve up a meal to hungry-eyed guests with generous sauces and pastas and tomatoes thrown through, jars left opened in the sink, they gobble it down mashing and masticating noisily. Dripping glooping over chin-wobbles. They start to feel terrible. Some well aged self-criticism was the flavour to spoil an otherwise rich evening.

I.K. Estbon

08JUN10

is nothing majestic?
fish speak
open-mouthed warning gulps
warming waters and lost brothers

sister, sister
come nearer
the fear of shadows and
dement undertakings of
corporations leaves us dry

pragmatic solutions to
worlds pollutions from
human resolutions

slip away silently into the night
wake in fright, tears drip
for every candle that we light
is nothing majestic?

...

Simple joy...

Sample joy...

I.K. Estbon

06JUN10

oh misery, those miserable people
implicitly drowning in their
----self-lost confidence
----(inner correspondence)
reality, driven through the body
withered, ageing, tattered
till damage shows in
slow-healing welts and bruises

thin probing fingers stuck like
stalks atop gnarly hands reach
out at future shadows just for
the feel of what may become
of ones future woes and
where ones misery grows

...

A fragile tether, a link, a chain...

Struggling, straining, compressed and expanded...

It breaks, it heals, it forms, it pulls...

We tug, destroy, create... Destroy... Remake...

I.K. Estbon

...

DEstroy the DRama machine with quilts DEsigned with true intentions...

I.K. Estbon

...

Hurt, hurt, hur-uhrt, hurrr-uuurt...

I.K. Estbon

...

Sweep, sweep, sue-eep, suuu-wu-eep...

I.K. Estbon

...

Can we deal? I understand little of the currently frustrating...

The twists and bends and forks...

Sticking it to a razors edge, pain pain pain...


I.K. Estbon

...

WE try, RE try - failed concepts are discarded in the wastepaper basket - STOP

SENS ing, SENS ible, SENS itive

the FORM matters little when the sentence is not the precusor for communication - STOP

WE feel, RE try, WE feel, RE try, WE feel, WE try, WE feel, RE peat - STOP

I.K. Estbon

Brief aftermath of thoughts catalysed by skim-readings and rudimentary musing over injustices fueled by hate...

...mostly within a pre-Civil Rights Movement America


Let there be a short journey to cleanse the spirit and memory of the evil in others – of myself I can only promise a brief respite in happenings and hope that I will learn and understand, as I must accept and remain accountable for my actions in the past – all in the vague daydreamer notion of entering a moment hereafter where I can breathe again. Face the human reality with a smile and an inclination towards happiness and imaginative wonder at what lies around us. To be immersed in its beauty. To live, without regret, but with the intent to continue wading into this experience. The water does indeed get deeper…

And here in this place of creation, this societal structure, this hive of humans, there are horrors that happen. The reflections on the past that haunted Ossian Sweet until he stole them away with a flash, falling, falling to the apartment floor. Isaac Woodard with what memories remained when new vision was beaten from his eyes. We want to see a future, to cast a gaze across into the distance and no that one day we will get there, only to push on once more after resting. Some of us breaking away, breaking apart and dissipating in the ether. Gentle wind, gentle breeze.

Have some of us developed a false sight? Our paths twisted and bent in anarchy. Lost – dazed and confused – unsure but with what delusive rhythm we beat out upon stones and dirt and trails of dust. The mind growing more the manic with parched lips pouting into the desert heat. Stubborn teeth and hard-bitten heart, drumming against forbearers, denying the future. Progress is but knowledge and wisdom, let obsession not sink its charms, there is hope afloat.

And yet we rob each other, of a chance. The youthful Scottsboro Boys left with their lives in the grip of hatred. Emmett Till beaten into a permanent lesson. The history repeats, Matthew Shepard, James Byrd Jr. Falling, falling, fists cast into the eyes with indignant strokes against hope. Why can’t we see? The water is deeper, frightening, and beautiful. Embrace it, wade out and trudge onwards. Gentle wind, graceful smile return to me. To live, walking the path, without regret. A purifying rain, to wash over me, let these steps resume and let me mark myself as cleansed.'

I.K. Estbon

...

We die...

I.K. Estbon

...

Hold them, precious...

Treasure them...

Their lives are precious...

Remember them...

I.K. Estbon

...

I sing to candy-coloured picture frames, oh deep purple don't associate so closely with that shocking violet, perched in its corner touching all the salmon, and here's a thought for you yellows and blues, mixing the sombre with the sunny is quaintly confusing, can your pretty hues be separated yet retain their endearment to me?

I.K. Estbon

...

Body smashed, chest collapsed, piss and snot and thoughts fucked in head,
and guilt collects the mental toll, trampled soul over frustrated tears.

Becoming unwound, unsung, unstable, reflected on what we have said,
we feel incapable, insatiable desire to gather another pocket full of fears.

I.K. Estbon

...

Here I lie with some sort of perceived wound that I shall tend to meticulously and tirelessly, my palm outstretched, my tongue licking it again and again.

I.K. Estbon

...

mornings, beautiful mornings...

give way to afternoons, dreamy sun... and sunshine dreaming...

I.K. Estbon

...

Follow who you know, follow who you know, follow who knows...

I.K. Estbon

...

In the blink of an eye it will all change and we will recall the highs and lows of the yesterdays while tomorrows damage is being done today...

I.K. Estbon

...

Desire, de-sire, de-zii-err...

I de-zii-err you with fye-err-ri passion...