Purple Revolver (2 fingered)

Bored of You, Bored of my Personality

Bored of you and bored of my personality,

Which in all fairness has let us both down.

Where, once upon a time I used to smile at your angst filled cutting remarks

Now my personality chooses makes issue of them.

Oh she’s such a bitch!

She won’t let you win with your hideous moaning anymore,

I’ve tried telling her, but no...

Regardless, you still attempt to make my life interesting though the tedium of precipitous moaning- oh how you hate the train ride to work, oh God how you hate the price of everything you can’t afford,

And oh my, how you hate the silk duvet, too noisy when I turn from sleepless nights...

You moan, I try and retain the onset of love

But,

It appears-

I’m bored of you and bored of my personality

Which has surprised me yet again,

By telling you in unfamiliar tones

To strap on a pair,

Shut the fuck up,

Or get the fuck out.

Yes,

It’s safe to say,

My personality has let us both down.

© Marjorie Razorblade

The Day I Made History

Opposite me sat three men in their thirties and forties in varying styles of human design and construction,

If intelligent design truly exists, I thought

Then I am seated at the dawn of creation.

It’s a compliment,

I don’t hand them out often, much to everyone’s surprise.

I felt this was the time to tell them of my new fangled idea for winning a competition with the aid of fictitious representation from the Forest Moon of Endor.

I’m not proud of myself but the similarity between us is overwhelming and no-one gets furballs like I do,

It’s my boyfriend you see,

His hair gets lodged in my throat and rather than complain, I swallow it only to cough clumps of it up later as fur balls.

I store them in jars under my bed as keepsakes of moments past which are kept like pinned butterflies to a cork-board.

Precious memories are made of his dust bunnies.

The oppression of a shivery night sky dropped in without an overcoat, cars with itinerant captives rendered hapless by alcohol sped off into the distance of time and innumerable fines

We tutted our heartfelt discord in the direction of a white van drunkenly supported by a finely spoken man from a literary background.

How dreadful.

Next to me sat Bela, (one ‘L’) tucking delightfully into crunchy salad sandwich prepared by unknown fingers which either throttled throats or poked fires or stroked dogs and even once, I’ve no doubt in my mind, possibly even touched a woman in a place we must not discuss at this current juncture, lest we upset those with a delicate disposition.

Bela enjoyed her sandwich, this always pleases me to see people take satisfaction from something so accommodating.

I installed that night into History;

A Welshman with a sense of purpose to vividly paint pictures with words

The three of a five strong trio, one of which I love with the deepest most soul blossoming honesty,

One with a penchant for things of the forest and a love for the fragility of a childhood heroic figure

And one with a massive cock- or so I’m told.

I never wished to be privy to this information, but look, there it is.

The size of his cock can only be reflective of personality and well, that’s pretty big so I leave you to make your own mind up about that stumbling statement.

A boring man at the bar soaked with homemade ale told me he had a rotten weekend and would I like to see him dressed up in armour this forthcoming weekend?

I said no and pretended to scratch dirt from one fingernail to the other while I waited for a man to serve me alcohol which could not be soon enough.

The man went on talking but I did this in my head

“Blah blah blah” and “la la la I can’t hear you!”

A five minute wait emptied the contents of this strangers life into my lap without permission

I said nothing I went back to the table, on the way I considered abstract memory and whether later I would give him a big nose and ugly asymmetrical features or a dashingly handsome face you could carve out of marble

I chose the first.

It was a short night

But I chose this one regardless of a million others more impressive, to install them all into historical significance.

© Marjorie Razorblade 2008

Comments: It was all going on, it was an unremarkable night but always the ones which have a way of representing the absolute honesty about life are often the most astounding.

Death to your Underpants

In the mechanical folds of my washing machine you dispose of your sultry nature

Scratch your balls through age-worn garments, which, like me, have seen your better days

A sock displaced from its commune

Finds itself pinned to the notice board (which in theory should be attached to your forehead with map pins)

“Sock sought for nights out with a perfect match, bored of being lonely, lets pair up and paint the town red.”

The humour is wrung from my life like wet bubble wrap through a mangle

I pop at unprecedented intervals

There’s just no telling when I might explode

Over a coffee ring on the cover of my new book of example

Or when your transparent underpants wrap themselves snugly around the drum during the final spin cycle of now what appears to be

Our relationship

Page 684

Indesit

·Energy rating A.

·Washing performance A.

·Spinning performance C.

·Maximum spin speed 1100rpm.

·Maximum washing capacity 6kg.

·Variable washing temperature.

Buy now pay later with map pins in your forehead and my knickers wound in knots around your throat?

I’m easy.

© Marjorie Razorblade

"Consumerism for Beginners"

Buy more live less

I like my own mess

Consumerism not for everyone

But my friends, I digress….

I don’t recycle I don’t have a bin

Randomised plastic crap and it’s full to the brim

I idly complain that my flat stinks of shit

Its mine,

And well pal

I can fucking well do what I like with it.

Buy less and live more

Jehovah witness knock on my front door

With Bibles and pictures of children with Hippos

And Lions wear signs that say No Fucking Gypos

And they don’t get AIDS, God forbid that they should

And would a blood transfusion do them any good?

And they sail off to paradise in ark made of wood

And live on their island without any shrink wrapping

In their eco toilets where their too busy crapping

The pulses and beans that make anarchists mental

Scrimping and saving dividing their lentil

And Sainsburys shelves burst at the seams

And Jamie grins smugly, advertises overpriced

Mung beans

'Try something new today'

I tell myself blindly

That Crime doesn’t pay

I cant recycle, don’t have a green bin

So what should I leave out?

And what do I put in?

Do I buy fair trade and become all consuming

Dodge the black cloud of responsible living that’s looming?

And the fucking hypocrisy is evident although washed down the drain:

Buy Fair trade

Stick it all on a plane

And then consumers cry out “Stop global warming!”

The black clouds pile up and the brew begins storming

I buy less live less

Tell myself crime doesn’t pay,

And hand over fist for fuck-all I pay

My carrots from Waitrose cost more

And don’t last one fucking day….

So I can’t compost and I live in a flat

And I don’t recycle and that’s pretty much that

I blame the council, I blame barren society

Do this and do that with such cunningly sobriety

And I don’t recycle, there in print, notoriety

If I could mate I would

But I cant get a bin

And so

What should I leave out

What should I put in?

Buy more

Live less

Air miles, recycle, free trade and I’m bloody well going to kill myself

For a plot of dirt

A row of runner beans and a pretty pink skirt,

Sewed by the children in sweat shops of China

Bought it in Oxfam and what could be finer?

Fair-Trade burgers in some corporate diner

And gallons of oil shipped by in a Texaco liner

I’d rather go naked than wear one fucking stitch

Wear a gap t-shirt - or - live in a ditch

And these paper knickers are starting to itch

Ladies your tampons are now obsolete

Stick a cup up your minge or tear up an old sheet

And winter is coming in July, fucking sleet

And the man with the sandwich board walks up my street

“The End is Nigh,”

He says with a sigh

And I shake my head and I still wonder why

When do we implode?

When do we give in?

I can’t recycle

I don’t have a bin

So what should I leave out?

And just what do I put in?

© Marjorie Razorblade 2007

Comments: Four floor flat no recycling provided. I carry it all to work and do it there. If the old school people who tell us that we have to recycle, bothered to do it in the first fucking place, we wouldn’t have to. Am I just being pedantic? Free Trade? Sure fly it all over in a plane you anti global warming fuck.

Today someone touched a nerve. It was a flyer which said

“Recycle Now!”

I’d better stop there.

Smile

I've been exposed to the infective world of laughter

And it breaks my heart to find the cure lies elsewhere

I tried everything

To bring laughter to your life and a promise of happiness

But it was all in vain nothing lasts forever

And I can only laugh for the shortest while

When slowly your laughter becomes the ghost of my smile.

© Marjorie Razorblade

Worse Case Scenario Number 1

Love beads in one pocket

Vibrator in another

I slipped then tripped

My pockets ripped

And they rolled towards your mother.

© Marjorie Razorblade

Comments: Whoopsie.

Everything is the Same

In a speeding journey down the superhighway to crazy land I stopped for a short break in mad-ville

Population: one

Moments away from realisation

However I thought I would go round in circles for a while

Couldn’t stop

Round and round the roundabout

Until I split myself in half to ride down two identical neural channels at the same time

However splitting in half meant that in the middle of me was missing space, and only then

And only then,

Was it peaceful in my mind for the first time

Ever

Then my body snapped the two halves back together and we rode onwards down the same blood vessel towards the end of our journey

We didn’t stop but instead punctured a hole through the fabric of existence,

 which was like the skin of my own body

Straight through and into another identical journey

Splitting

Peace

Joining up

Seamless and identical over and over

I grasped it

And levelled off

Tried to remember what I had just been through and then

Suddenly

I realised

Everything is the same

That and the unparalleled awesomeness of Skunk.

© Marjorie Razorblade 2008-06-01

Comments: Well, that was interesting.