17/09/2012

A VISIT TO PETER PAUL RUBEN'S HOUSE

A chair for a marathon man, with a nail in the back, slicing his pain like a wolf barking to the sun, what else? A poem writing with disgusting mood, feel strange, yellow crab, moaning a cloud rain, Earth is too much, ecco, here Islamabad, have you seen the movie, well well well, man is a cake topped with goat's sperm, isn’t? what you expect? Let the wheel keep on rolling, one day or the other the nail will touch bone, lucky nerve, cannot stop feeling Venusian, where better to find a pieces of a heart? So they say, mind the gap, here and there, same story, man could be man, man prefers to be animal, why not? Ça va, at the end of the day animal dreams being man, upside down inside out, imagine a good man in the jungle of politics, have seen any?, give me his name, per favore, love to send him a bucket of avatar flowers.

Got lost again, in the jungle, went out there to find something and I ended up in ‘bad memory street’. In that moment came someone else looking for don’t know the name of the street, we laugh, mais c’est rien, at least we’re not in Damascus, you see? Stupid nuts, those guys working for the Human Rights thing, they come now denouncing the Syrian Opposition for hitting back. Much the same as the others, give them money and will defend the Devil in the heat of the Mass. Come on bark, higher higher. How much?

The roofs from my window look sharp, getting emotional on shoeshine Obama Campaign, what Nobel Prize will the Master buy to his Puppet this time? What a show the last Judgment Day. I would not miss it for all the money in the world. Saints to hell, bums and tramps get close, the Putin Czar?, flesh for Mister Satan, Beijing burnt like a pig impaled in the Devil’s ass, see the Sudanese men eater, three million black people fried in the pan and still free to fry another raw, just then the word HOLOCAUST will be sung, or not? You know, a Jew is worth ten thousand blacks, so you see?, where’s the rush?

Come up the kings and emperors and their courts, hi, hello, there is your master, Mister Satan Most Powerful God in Hell, go go go, bye bye, enjoy your time, kiss his cock. Look at Gandhi, the Mahatma, hello there, by the hand of Mother Teresa of Calcuta, I knew there was a connection, there they go, straight to Paradise, rajahs, and saints and gurus and all crap, get off, off my feet, don’t harm my shadow with your presence, go go go, open the doors, hell has a mouth as big as Einstein’s brain, with them all the Masters of the Universe without Creator, too, what a wonderful time, off with the mad dogs.

Silence, you, little joker, go and sing your songs on a tree, want you me to buy you a funeral robe? Sorry, can’t help feeling good, those demons kill your creatures by the million, of course none of my business, here I go, Ob la di, ob la da, loaded with nuclear promises of war they go, to have fun, who will be the champion of the world? Pakistan with her new war head missile able to pass undetected by the radars and the drones? Poor as hell, and they expend their few coins in a missile race. The question is, where they get the money from? Understand now why the Last Judgment Day will be a show to enjoy from beginning to end? Am serious man, where that nation, poor as hell, get the money to create nuclear war heads? We see the news, Pakistan’s population live in misery, Pakistan Government is richer far beyond Iran and Arabia Saudi. Excuse me? You hear well, apple head, answer yourself. Why the United States of America and the Unites States of Europe fuel the fuss against Iran’s civil nuclear programme and encourage Pakistan’s military nuclear programme? What a riddle for real men! So few in these days, the real men! How many will, real men, will Jesus take with Him to God’s Paradise after the Universal Judgment? Because even accepting Mohammed as a Prophet, the real problem is that Jesus is the One who says who gets in and who will stay out. And so with the Christians who think that Saint Peter got the Keys of Heaven. The Keys of Heaven is in the Mouth of the Universal Judge. Jesus gave to Peter the keys of the Church, who is Priest, who is not Priest, this is the real Power of the Bishops of the Church, that is the Final Power in the Hand of the Catholic Church, whatever She ties on Earth, it will be tied on Heaven. But to enter in Paradise or not, this Power is not in the Hand of Saint Peter, but in the Mouth of the One on whom God has rested His Power of Universal Judgment.

You see?, no matter, how or where, we get lost we always end up finding our way back home, we say to each other every week end. Lucky we, driving a magic car that never loses the vision of its roots. Mostly this is how we came to crash our noses against Ruben’s House’s wall. Antwerp is few miles away, it was sunny there, we always head where the sun is, walking around Antwerp we saw it there, “Ruben’s House”. Holy luck, the master of the masters living in our memories, with his massage of keep going, “don’t throw the towel, man is a spark from God’s genius, go go go, get up, to fall we have to, to get up and back on our legs or to stay in our knees mark the difference between man and animal, this is my message of hope from man to man”, and is written on the wall.

What did I say, sunshine is lying on the roofs from my window. One day follow another day but one can be different from the next when you are in love.