Thursday, 22 March 2012

hunger strike in nobu restraunt hostages eaten as appertif

a man went down to the town one day
came right back and had this to say
never saw a crowd like that fair play
went to the tree and sat in it's shade

sun moved about just to scare him out
he was not happy and said you lout
movin about like that old trout
i outta comethere and knock you out

so he devised a keen plan of paper and sand
wrote it all down with his opposite hand
made it to the sun and had his stand
then came right back with a fresh raw brand

cried for week then died last night
worried the neighbours who got quite a fright
when his corpse walked out devoid of sight
into their kitchen and said goodnight.

Wednesday, 14 March 2012

thanks for having us

dust becomes life and ashes snow
a life can be lived in an instant
and soon passes beyond and away
into the barren lands and the dark cool
what is this life that takes us down into the dark
and into the light beyond the night

i only know what ignorance has held tight to
and i've forgotten the best ideas i've ever had
they fell into that place all ordered and ready
and tied tight with a string of patience
and deep unknowing

autumn ushers in the window
it changes the firs to yellow
and then orange
and finally brown where they touch the ground
to shelter the cold stones of winter and bend down
to slip between them in spring and feed them through summer
before rising into the air
anew and asking us to trust our lives to them
and their knowledge
passes on and on beyond our brevity
but don't wait to hear
life is out there

Thursday, 8 March 2012


A memorial eulogy BOUT dn


I think even in the next 10 years or so or as long as the paint will last there will still be dn in Fitzroy.
I remember noticing dick nose getting up back around 2009, it looked crazy as they come.
It's funny that i still recall the exact place in Fitzroy and the exact wall and as the wall hasn't been buffed yet i suppose it is still there under the countless layers that coat these talking walls.  

dn was impossible to define, he was equally hated and loved depending how you knew him, and sometimes how long.  He was brilliant and this was evident in nearly every artistic pursuit he did, whether it be writing, music, chefing and graff.  Because he had a style and he stuck to it.

he once told me that in the future people would see the joke in his words.

He went to court a few months ago for his accumulated spree's throughout Fitzroy and as his last defence  his legal team noted that preceeding must move quickly because the mayor was to be interviewed by the defendant.  This seemed to be sufficient to give a little leniency to the man.

I knew him through music initially and writing and he was already established in both these fields.  Several years in the Appalacians with some of the best players around gave him some chops to watch for, and every now and again he would freestyle some that could only have come from a NYr. 

There was no denying the criminal in dn.  he worked the streets for what it was worth and in the heights of his junk habit he rolled many people for cash for a hit.  He has enemies from this that will probably last their lives.  But he kicked the habit and was sober to see what he'd done and he took the hits he got and didn't say too much to tears about it. 

I hope other people can see the joke at least once, that which lies behind the simple letters we have to see everyday.

Rest Easy Brother
1980 - 2012

serial tagger

and in his own words 
king of no style

though sometimes a mountain may be shrouded by mist and cloud is it still a mountain