tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11050562228617035202024-03-13T16:00:19.662-07:00Tarz's Brass TacksChris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-87659449281214357562011-07-06T12:30:00.000-07:002011-07-06T12:38:39.992-07:00Flickerone ticker<div>blue flicker</div><div>one ticker </div><div>flicker blue ticker one ticker</div><div>feel sad too bad</div><div>too bad feel sad too bad too bad bad too sad</div><div>some pain </div><div>no gain</div><div>some gain pain no pain no gain</div><div>pain sad sad ticker flicker bad bad too sad too sad flicker blue flicker blue ticker ticker flicker blue ticker flicker flicker ticker flicker flicker bad sad gain pain..and smile. </div><div><br /></div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-84150571753412422302011-04-30T06:08:00.000-07:002011-04-30T06:12:33.113-07:00Powem Prizons.It's been a while since i've published anything lyrical...so time tells and clocks turn to twelve better post some shit. <div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal">Half Empty- New song</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now that you’re older </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I don’t need to lie anymore</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Cos the truth isn’t innocent at your door </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s a sad song </p> <p class="MsoNormal">To tell you you’re alone</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But the future’s all be sewn in cold stone</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Maybe I don’t care, I don’t care anymore </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But it’s too late for that, but it’s too late for that</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Maybe I don’t see, I don’t see any more</p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are too many truths weighing down in fact. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Your eyes are crimson </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And your blood is burning at the bones </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let the hair grow long and thin</p> <p class="MsoNormal">All the pale skin</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And sinking heart</p> <p class="MsoNormal">You’re oldest friend will know how it feels </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Maybe I don’t care, I don’t care anymore </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But it’s too late for that, but it’s too late for that</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Maybe I don’t see, I don’t see any more</p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are too many truths weighing down in fact. </p></div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-62709760296390536102011-04-30T06:06:00.000-07:002011-04-30T06:07:56.159-07:00Back to BloggerI'm Back to Blogger.<div>I'm to basics with a new layout.</div><div>Yeah when you're a technophobe simplicity is the key (kii). </div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-23881995508461098292010-12-07T13:46:00.000-08:002010-12-07T13:47:59.355-08:00Dear A<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Dear Anger</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I’m in a turrets like mood were fuck is the only word to describe it</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I’d like to slam my head in a fucking door but even apathy is being a twat</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">When your hairs stand on end it means you’re cold. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I am cold. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I want to thaw and be cold. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">And when I am cold I will regret it like so many other things that influence the abstract in my brain. Knowing isn’t believing</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Simply... I don’t believe and I wish I didn’t know. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Full stop. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Continue. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">War. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I am burning flowers. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I am burning beautiful. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Without direction and without cause I criticise my own frustration. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I want to shout. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I want to rupture my lungs. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">But I don’t want anyone to hear me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I just want to curse in my own echo. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">But why don’t you understand? </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">My moments of silence are drowned in noise. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">Signed your sincere friend. </span></p>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-24181357119064692792010-12-01T11:03:00.001-08:002010-12-01T11:23:02.935-08:00the ink from my pen ran out<div>out it ran dribbling like a drunken tonk</div><div>trying to be elusive</div><div>it spread like a contagion in the white of a </div><div>blank page</div><div>it was obvious</div><div>the ink had a genome</div><div>it could dance in time</div><div>and reap the crop of words</div><div>but such copulation leads to the </div><div>breaking of the page</div><div>I'll chuck it in the bin?</div><div>there's a daring spin</div><div>put that in your pen and write it.</div><div>smite it. </div><div>disguise it.</div><div>burn it.</div><div>no blank page.</div><div>need some sage. </div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-79529422927743615002010-10-23T12:43:00.000-07:002010-10-23T12:48:31.763-07:00I got BoredI got Bored<div> so I became famous for 15mins</div><div>I got Bored</div><div> so I punched the moon with a flag</div><div>I got Bored</div><div> so I went to war for oil</div><div>I got Bored</div><div> so I made a nuclear bomb</div><div>I got Bored</div><div> but there was nothing left to do....</div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-69160085502455137902010-09-26T13:54:00.000-07:002010-09-26T14:28:20.351-07:00I want to be in the Anthology.<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I want to be in the anthology</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Because words are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">nice</i> and to rhyme in verse </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">And curse at hate. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Emotions that can speak as echoes echoes echoes...</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Often my words don’t dance, they are broken</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">They stumble and mumble prose</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">What-used-to-be-cool-90’s-lingo</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I am colour blind with words</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Blue is grey</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Orange is purple </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">And green doesn’t exist so often my images are obscured</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">As for sibilance I reject such sounds. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">And onamatopia is a word I can never spell</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">So I SLASH pen to paper</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">SLASH pen to paper.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I’m not good with endings either. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">general musing. </span></p>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-44165254776253302422010-09-01T13:56:00.000-07:002010-09-01T13:59:04.201-07:00New song lyrics- Musing.<p class="MsoNormal">I raise my glass to sadness and sorrow </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ll feel this way today I’ll feel the same tomorrow</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I wanted to leave living and practice flying </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Drop me from this cloud, I’m dried up and hollow</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">A spirit toast to all the happy times</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The rain burns down my throat I curse and it is fine</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Letters are lonely and lonely and lonely </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Give me a direction to follow a line</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">My heads down, back at the start</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I whisper white noise, a feather heart</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I continue the story of bitter sweet</p><p class="MsoNormal">Please leave me in here in misery and defeat</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">It happens..</p>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-60557892932102537392010-08-31T06:16:00.000-07:002010-08-31T06:34:12.235-07:00Leader TheatricsI recently read an article in the Times Newspaper about the comments from Peter Mandelson about the Leadership contender Ed Miliband. He warned Ed Miliband that going back to "old labour" politics will not win them an election and he stated he was backing his brother David Miliband for leadership. It is clear from Mandelsons comments that he values popularity over political morals. Of course in this new era of politics PR and appealing to the electorate are extremely important but it seems Mandleson is in a deep love affair with the "New Labour" fiasco, who's public image is no better than when Nick Clegg wears a yellow tie. New Labour now has somewhat of a cheesy cliché image which the public do not want to associate with. Ed Miliband is proclaiming his strong political views on social justice and civil rights, rather than swaying to the centre ground like so many politicians who mask over their political morals when yearning for the electorate.Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-16695757262881619122010-07-18T16:19:00.000-07:002010-07-18T16:31:44.464-07:00blisters.<i>it used to be an outlet of expression</i><div><i>somewhere to walk when the souls of my feet blistered</i></div><div><i>but blisters burst and the soul cracks</i></div><div><i>so i bought the shoes to cover my soul</i></div><div><i>i was a puppet master of myself and string pulled and </i></div><div><i>i walked on more painful ground and grew the pretender</i></div><div><i>so many things objectives and dreams with all the unnecessary's </i></div><div><i>disappeared as wounds</i></div><div><i>with these shoes i could walk any distance</i></div><div><i>but it was framed on appearance </i></div><div><i>so i untied the laces which once held me close to you</i></div><div><i>and admired for what exists that was honest and true. </i> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>bit of impro'</div><div><br /></div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-11851818950504846962010-05-30T15:26:00.000-07:002010-05-30T15:28:00.855-07:00soooo WHAT. (K)new stuff<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Chasing round every corner into a dark alley </i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>A subsequent scream and yearn for a normality and comfort</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Shouting and singing mantra to satisfy your peace</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Trying to touch abstract walls of contempt where bricks are wood and as the finger reaches</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Out it strokes the edges and DNA lines become detached</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Oh flee</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Flee from Saturn bruises on your right arm</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Crawl left</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Where dust floats in sparing light </i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Harmony and virtues are baron and colourful ice and binary</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Who’s turn is it</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Stand up</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Internal monologue needs casting</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Before the pace of my shadow feet catch up</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>And before</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>The sun in the day becomes grey</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Like the stone</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>In eyes. </i></p>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-47443247792637458722010-04-18T12:35:00.000-07:002010-04-18T12:36:18.164-07:00APATHY<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Apathy,</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Apathy,</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Apathy,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Apathy,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> Apathy. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">= nuff said</span></div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-12660064798093777302010-04-05T10:42:00.000-07:002010-04-05T10:47:38.185-07:00When the blood dries in my veins And my, heart feels no more pain<object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lwD1vQ_Gw2A&hl=en_GB&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lwD1vQ_Gw2A&hl=en_GB&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Such a tune.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> appreciated</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">///plan b</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-11637272985831750472010-04-05T02:57:00.000-07:002010-04-05T03:00:57.122-07:00Room of ajdjhdbksksb.... to say the least////<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Cradle your sentiment inside bleak purple forearms, because circulation flows like ice in a torrid landscape. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>With ecstasy. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Roll up the finished, bloody, chromatic carpet and step softly on the exhausted severed floorboards. They yell as if infatuation would heal the tendency for them to creak when walked on. Depleted and scarred the wall paper hung heavy like my chest. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The painting which you gave me lived docile on the passive walls. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The dust made the grey painting greyer than death, chapters written without any desire. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Going through the jade pine door into the room of novelty, is such like going through a hormonal palisade where I find emotion naked and free. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Instantly I find a chill surrounding my bodily vicinity. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The aroma of the room squats vividly and plagues my lungs; the cardiac organ is the corner is one you said you sung. But all the signs and lies you love to give me, it has been too long too long since I wrote destiny. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The same is the same I need to break from this room, it’s never too late it’s never too soon. The synapse confused of what I should do, too many splinters stand from the wood. I step into the light and become a cliché; warmth from the air kills the dust from my lungs, trapped in a coma of time. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Perfect in motion. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Running free. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>I’m fearless. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">Earlier poem which i blogged.....basics now is finished.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">boobloomboo enjoy </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes">BAM</span></p>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-73405586371070303852010-04-02T01:55:00.000-07:002010-04-02T05:51:13.047-07:00Nuclear arms///= mushroom head.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/london/content/images/2008/04/02/banksy_bang300_300x400.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/london/content/images/2008/04/02/banksy_bang300_300x400.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>Hey!</div><div>Why don't we all dance round a mushroom cloud. That would be fun.</div><div>"EVERYONE" can hold hands and admire the mushroom cloud. I mean</div><div>we haven't seen one in a while. I mean we have more than enough sbmob mota.</div><div>I can't understand why we have so many we only need a couple to make such</div><div>a beautiful mushroom cloud. I suppose I really want to see one.</div><div><br /></div><div>This person became so obsessed with seeing a mushroom cloud, he grew a mushroom head.</div><div>From then on he was no longer seen as a Fun-guy. </div><div><br /></div><div>BAM POW. </div><div> </div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-43122393917886802812010-02-22T12:29:00.000-08:002010-04-02T05:59:09.090-07:00Cradle your Sentiment<em>Cradle your sentiment inside bleak purple forearms </em><br /><em>because circulation flows like ice in a torrid landscape. </em><br /><em>With ecstasy.</em><br /><em>Roll up the finished, bloody, chromatic carpet and step softly on the exhausted severed floorboards. </em><br /><em>They yell as if infatuation would heal the tendency for them to creak when walked on</em><br /><em>Depleted and scarred the wall paper hung heavy like the heart which that I bear.</em><br /><em>The painting which you gave me lived docile on the passive walls.</em><br /><em>The dust made the grey painting </em><br /><em>greyer than death </em><br /><em>chapters written without any desire.</em>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-69100797766339975312010-02-15T08:50:00.000-08:002010-02-15T09:01:30.065-08:00<div><em>The ceiling bled tears</em></div><div><em>as he lay feeble beneath.</em></div><div><em>The seams on the wall look like veins ready to</em></div><div><em>give in.</em></div><div><em>He lay there silent and damp like a newspaper</em></div><div><em>which had been used as shelter from the rain</em></div><div><em>As if all the ink had merged and all the story's unreadable- untraceable- forever lost.</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div>watched 7 pounds last night, has Will Smith in it.</div><br /><div>it was well emotive. </div><br /><div>my calender that i got for christmas is a guinea pig one. Febuary the guinea pig is doing pole vault...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 273px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01517/pole-vault_1517154i.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-47491261743857956982010-01-30T12:16:00.000-08:002010-01-31T10:00:33.532-08:00The Folly.<em>You're moving away to the land where I once lived</em><br /><em>with your heart walking the plank and your life full of sin.</em><br /><em>A forests now without blue bells in the spring.</em><br /><em>Let your love grow</em><br /><em>Let your love grow</em><br /><em>But first let it begin.</em><br /><br /><br />well well well... bare random musing. smack bam pow. can't wait for the springgggggChris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-32019398000849060582010-01-28T08:35:00.000-08:002010-01-28T08:53:02.215-08:00McDonalds Apple Pies<em>It's a risk..</em><br /><em>My hearts telling me yes but my mind's saying, hell no!</em><br /><em>I've got the money, i have the patience, but i do not want to live my life on regret.</em><br /><em>I act on spontaneity when they ask me up to the counter.</em><br /><em>My mind is made up. </em><br /><em>With confidence I ask; One McDonalds Apple Pie please.</em><br /><em>It's done.</em><br /><em>The person waddles off in an instance.</em><br /><em>I sit down in one of those fashionable green spinney chairs</em><br /><em>I stare at the beauty of this dangerous but alluring volcano.</em><br /><em>It feels like hot iron as i gently move the precious up out of it's shell.</em><br /><em>I breath in a huuricane to calm myself before i go in.</em><br /><em>3..2..1.</em><br /><em>As i bite the lava erupts it to my mouth and burns my tongue. I quickly take it out my mouth and splurtter and splatter. My tongue is burnt again. Scarred. I will not be able to taste for a week.</em><br /><em>Just why! Just why McDonalds! Why do you make your apple pies so bloody hot!?</em><br /><br /><br />wowowow. enough said for one blog post. done.Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-55801232725177487462010-01-24T07:00:00.000-08:002010-02-04T08:03:35.080-08:00<em>Pathetic Fallacy was showing our fate.</em><br /><em>love and lust we had no hate.</em><br /><em>The sun was rising in her eyes.</em><br /><em>As she discovers it was lies</em><br /><em>expressions all content and bright</em><br /><em>as we composed and danced in flight.</em><br /><em>Not a single note was sharp</em><br /><em>We played our music from the heart.</em><br /><br /><br />okay, i will probably look back on this and think, what the fuck?<br />oh well, whatcha gonna doo. shakespeare sort of inspired this.Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-57080922238728765042010-01-20T08:18:00.000-08:002010-01-20T08:24:43.304-08:00The Bitter Stabbing Wind<em>A winters day sprays the bitter stabbing wind upon my sadistic epxression.<br />The sun rises, no suprises, there's no change in that bitter stabbing wind.<br />Feeling like I've sinned I walk in shame not in fame.<br />Beelzebub stalks me and scratches in the pain<br />People try to console, but I just submit and bury myself under hot coals.<br />Give me trophies, give me medals.<br />You try to feed my ego, but please let me go, and no, don't follow me home.<br />Because, you will find yourself. Alone.</em><br /><em></em><br />I juggled this up last night. From a state of mind.Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-40095588786040021732010-01-03T07:02:00.000-08:002010-01-03T07:08:47.444-08:00A Scenario- For the Year!For the new year I have tried to write some poetic scenario shizzle. Let's just see how it flows.<br /><br /><br /><em>Jimmy Brass drank too Much-<br /><br />He’s acting like a pleb; she’s dancing like a spanner.<br />He thinks just because he knows her name is Hannah<br />And added her on facebook, he can play her, with his manners.<br /><br />He gloats and says:<br />Saw her dp and she looked pretty fine<br />It won’t be long before she’s all mine<br />Not going to lie, won’t take me long to shine<br /><br />He pranced over there like a bit of a twit<br />Forgetting the alcohol would soon make him sick<br />He’s just about to say: “girl you are fit”<br /><br />Then oh shit... she storms out<br />Shouting you fucking lout<br />He’s never ever going to live this one out...</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Jimmy Brass had to change his tactics..</em>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-69208568466544905742010-01-02T11:27:00.000-08:002010-01-02T11:56:52.113-08:00Aspirations for the Decade!Instead of writing about my new years resolution, I have decided to write about what I want to do this decade. <br /> 2010-2020<br />1). Get through school education and achieve the necessary results.<br />2). Graduate from University.<br />3). Run the London & the Saharan Marathons<br />4). Climb Kilimanjaro.<br />5). Sky dive for charity.<br />6). Get a Snake<br />7). Live abroad.<br />8). see- The Killers, Paulo Nutini, Muse, Flobots and Mumford & sons. Also to go to see Les mers<br />9). Raise lots more money for charity.<br />10). Meet Banksy<br />11). Build a forest<br />12). Watch the Olympics in London<br />13). Get a Driving licence<br /><br />all i have for now...Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-7402344773910362322009-12-30T14:18:00.000-08:002009-12-30T14:26:59.143-08:00Let's finish the decade with some Winter WindsThese are the lyrics from the recently released Mumford & Sons song Winter Winds.<br /><em></em><br /><em>As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts<br />Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms<br />Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?<br />For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt</em><br /><em></em><br />Simply beautiful..<br /><br />Happy New Year! :)Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1105056222861703520.post-42777460351098667742009-12-28T09:23:00.000-08:002009-12-28T09:30:26.163-08:00Pacifism & R'n'B - Edwin Starr<div>The link below is for a scene in Rush Hour.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Some old school R'n'B with the lyrics of a pacifist; it's great.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-bA9FYB8HY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-bA9FYB8HY</a></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://blog.tilos.hu/malestripshow/Edwin%20Starr.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div>Chris Tarz Gileshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03551577766443090621noreply@blogger.com0