I am a freelance genius. How much moolah do you have for me?
There is a special woman who makes my life fun.
She is my guiding light.
She helps me to trust myself
and try my hardest in everything I do.
The world I live in does not trust what I say
and that makes it hard for me to trust myself.
Family help to support me in my writing,
in my life, in my world.
Thank you family.
My body is a flaming mess,
It goes in weird places and I can’t control it,
Arms are in the air and head is nodding,
Tongue is hanging out with saliva dripping off the chin.
My body has hands like an octopus.
My voice is loud and obnoxious,
It yells strange noises that drive people crazy, especially my mum,
It echoes in the night and drives the cat and dog outside for peace and tranquillity,
My voice pierces ear drums.
My sex is weird and wild,
It has burning desires of lust and danger,
It blows out of control like a volcano.
My bones creek and grind like a piece of machinery,
They move in different directions that succumb to ridiculous.
My heart weeps like a flowing stream of water.
I tap away at letters forming words.
They are very busy and say strange things.
The words are my voice and the images say amazing words.
Like sounds of silence they appear as my voice.
My feeling of gratitude is high and appreciative.
Bloody voices of some people are droning and annoying.
The fingers are my voice and that’s good enough for me.
We are the amazing people of words with fingers.
It is astonishing how our minds work.
I miss not being able to drive.
I miss my voice.
I miss you Mum when you are away on holidays.
I miss not getting drunk and visiting women.
I wish I could get drunk and lose my mind in fun and frivolity
And go crazy mad with laughter.
I would like to do all this with ladies around me.
It really would be a silly thing to do as I have respect for women and mankind.
I think having a few drinks and laughter with the opposite sex would be enough for this old boy.
The feeling of freedom on the mind is lost when I’m not drunk.
I also miss the headaches and getting venereal diseases.
I have become a respected person in society with no venereal diseases and no headaches.
I edited my stuffing book.
It has been a marathon to get it to the printers.
I have had headaches galore and lots of brain strain.
Finishing was the tip of the icing on the cake covered in lollies,
like throwing peas out the window and eating cake.
It dribbles out of my mouth
like lava from a volcano.
It tastes sweet
and has waves of exuberant feelings of lust.
I stand tall and proud, looking down over the ages:
don’t know the wonders I have seen.
Many people worship me
but the truth is I’m just a piece of wood.
Groups adore me:
that confuses me because I’m a piece of wood.
Somebody lovingly carves me into a head
but I am still just a piece of wood.
It’s great to be adored when you’re disguised
dressed up as a piece of wood.
It tells how we can get conned:
it really is a piece of wood.
I am just a piece of wood.
Dress me up adore me,
I’m still just a piece of wood.
I have wanted to write since I started using FC at sixteen years of age.
I have done so much for the last ten years. I have written three books and am part way through a university degree.
It is really good to be a part of the Brotherhood group. It has opened my eyes to fields of the world I didn’t know. It has opened my eyes to people who write the most amazing words I have heard. It was Joan and Alice who inspired me to write my second book. Being part of the group is a great feeling of belonging. We all write similar yet different work. Meeting Ghostboy has been amazing. He has supported us and encouraged us to be better poets and performers. His inspiration is something to behold.
My last words would be: “I love you mum you have been my inspiration. All my love”.
Others would say: “Glen was a funny fellow; he would do amazing poetry and make noises at the same time. Writing and writing was his love in life. Being able to express his brilliant mind was the achievement in his life”.