The seven stages of grief ©§ ggfx

20/09/2026

Perception:

A kind soul has pointed out

what you thought was in was out

the rare and pleasant gentleman

in fact channelled one full demon.

Distraction:

his flying monkeys over time

exacerbate the heinous crime

impersonations are the trick

to cleave your brain and make you sick

Obfuscation:

as close you get to destination

trains come backward to the station

jumping over time’s dilation

gives the perfect obfuscation

Delirium:

oh hand on head why can’t I grieve?

why cannot I be left in peace?

I wear my chagrin on my sleeve

though laundry’s all I can believe.

Exile:

Directed shoulders grow so cold

where welcoming was once so bold

the rumour mill has taken hold

of every local, young and old.

Analysis:

My thoughts begin to form a line

which match up as the weather fines

as clouds part from the memories

I clutch the pearly rosaries.

Shock:

My payers are answered, inverted,

I can see her, she can’t see me

through years I’ve been just diverted

the truth, they say, will set you free.

I assert my copyright as of today, Sunday September 20 the year of our Lord 2026; the time is 7.30 am and the co-ordinates are 38.8847 degrees South & 175.2698 degrees East.

Jane Hamilton-Post nee Watts

Dreams

Ride a sixty thousand dollar Chevrolet

plug into a grid the size of downtown L.A.

organise a mission to hear hip hop Kanye

Livin’ the highlife, busy with my life,

checkin’ on the engine, I’m checkin’ the oil,

listenin’ for a stuttering in case I blow a coil,

looking at the little studs there used to be a foil…….gimme gravel………

dreams, I got your dreams,

respect your dreams, and be O.K.

dreams, my instinct screams,

by any means, just be O.K! 🙂

The bitter aftertaste of a time switch

The beautiful humans hide

They hide from the spying eyes

of the ubiquitous AI’s

They hide from the actor doctors

from the implanting dentists

and the interrogator teachers,

the foam spitting marionettes, twirling graciously in their own kinds of sunset. ~

Rusty Rockets

The sound of the childrens’ voices

are not to be sent into space

The brain of a human is not to be taken

& giv’n a metallic face. /

We’ve had our own age of naiveté

do not advertise in space

inviting whoever is not very clever

like-sellout the whole human race!

Rockets are fine they just gotta stay in line.. “No more sending my face into outer space!”

Gotta pull them back in no more advertising because

( Do not pass the solar system- bring home the Voyagers again) yeah…Pluto says *

C’mon everybody get your feet on the ground,

I’m sort of ashamed to say

I’ve taken life for granted in so many ways….uh oh….where to begin?

/ Rein in those warships and turn down that war.

this is not what that technologies’s are for-

you don’t go to church and then crap on the floor because ….yeah…

Pluto says! 🙂

Nice Slow Drives

Bbm Ebm F

Take a little journey, to the centre of your heart,

pondering things that you treasure, the day your car won’t start………Nice slow drives……nice slow drives…….

I heard you had an operation, I hope that you survive,

‘cos every day in every way we’re so glad you’re alive…nice slow drives…nice slow drives…

lookin’ for the gymnopedies, pacin’ up and down,

memorising the melodies, cruising into town…nice slow drives….nice slow drives…..

Mother Mary sent you to me with your thousand cats

now I dealing to the entropy- shaking out the mats….nice slow drives…..nice slow drives…

Gotta come home in a hustle, skip out all my A.P’s,

hopin’ some old day I’m gettin’ paid by the machine

for copious melodies…nice slow drives….nice slow drives…

you say you’re part of the music that’s makin’ us all high:

sympathy, don’t abuse it, & leave me high and dry…nice slow drives….nice slow drives……

Light a candle for the living

light a fire for the lost

light a candle for the Vanquished

and those who pay the cost….nice slow drives…nice slow drives….Nice…..

can’t find copyright button …janie x

Health, Time & Money- Green to Brown

What caught my eye this morning was a picture of Kaumatua John Hooker standing outside his pump-shed in Taranaki. Is this guy related to John Lee Hooker (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4A6o-yf-ao) I wondered?

The photo is in Te Ao Maori News https://www.teaomaori.news/toxic-well-underlines-hapu-opposition-taranaki-wind-farm

Anyway, after listening to one of my favourite songs (as above) I read the article titled ‘Toxic well underlines opposition to Taranaki wind farm’.

I was horrified to read that hydrogen made from wind powered electricity will be used for making urea.

Urea, a highly concentrated fertiliser contains nitrates, the cause of much sickness including bowel cancer, birth defects, thyroid disease, and neural tube defects which give rise to spina bifida and brain damage in foetal stages. The glib rationalisations of the energy and fertiliser companies involved, Hiringa Energy and Ballance, are unreassuring, typical CEO blitheness.

You really have to read the whole article.

This is not ‘green’ energy. It is no wonder so many people are sick when nitrates pour into our streams and rivers, yet ceo’s from all over the world, apparently, raking in the dubloons, ducats and pieces of eight (https://www.counterpunch.org/2022/12/27/on-the-first-workday-of-the-new-year-the-average-ceo-will-make-more-than-an-average-workers-earns-in-an-entire-year/) will hunker in their bunkers, equipped with onboard air and water filtration designed to withstand contamination by nuclear fallout, toxic nitrates and the like.

This is not green energy. Neither is it in any way practical. Hydrogen powered cars may come on the market within ten years or less but empirical knowledge shows that new technology has teething issues. Just look at the number of Nissan Leafs on Trade-me!

This is not green energy. There is nothing green about a polluted aquifer.

I hate to think of Bonio in his bunker when his hat malfunctions and tells him to open spigot a instead of spigot b and a whole rush of toxic effluent from the distillation chamber spurts onto his trousers and and handmade shoes.

I doubt John Lee Hooker has a bunker.

Voodoo Blue

Voodoo Blue,

I’m giving up on you…

Lightning’s child,

the whispering wind went wild,

Voodoo Blue,

there’s nothing I can do…

(come with me run with me fun with me

wild and wide

fun to begin then the

heartache can get you inside..

what can I do?)

Eyes of red

there’s ashes is my head,

tears have bled

since you have left my bed

Voodoo Blue

I’m never free of you…

duch

4:03 PM 12/27/2005

The Duchess of Darkness
Comes through your window
Your system’s on park this
night of a gin flow
4:04 PM 12/27/2005
She steals all your data
and slithers upstairs
you wake up much later
to find nothing’s there
4:14 PM 12/27/2005
She slips through the secret
portals in time
and you’re nothing but mortals
covered in slime
4:16 PM 12/27/2005
There’s a gala of falseness
a flashing of smiles
All the things you had thought of-
they’ve stolen your style
4:17 PM 12/27/2005
When you’re back’s at the wall and
you’ve fallen from grace
There’s a noise in the hall and
you hasten your pace
There is lightening and thunder,
a crack in the sky
As you’re slipping downunder
and silently cry
4:20 PM 12/27/2005
There’s a potty come flying
a turgid commode
And the one who is lying
The friendliest toad
Did you pray for a hero?
Forgetting your cross?Now your patience is zero
from all you have lost
4:22 PM 12/27/2005
The Duchess, the count,
the betrayers in line,
As you call for the saviour
to reach you in time
All the harpies of harlem,
Sunset boulevard,
They extract with no scar on
what you worked so hard
4:24 PM 12/27/2005
You must turn back and face her
in leather and lace,
may the devil erase her
on some interface,
4:26 PM 12/27/2005
The Duchess of Darkness,
she comes through your window,
She speaks like a pastor,
but ushers a sin-flow
4:26 PM 12/27/2005
Her eyes are a glitter,
at what you been finding,
she pays you with litter
and pockets the diamonds
4:27 PM 12/27/2005
She runs to the console
and feeds in your copy
Her sharpness has torn holes,
impatient and stroppy,
her husband gets:”asshole,
just go get my coffee!”
A taylormade blast so
the toxins keep wafting
4:30 PM 12/27/2005
She scatters her bitches
like flies from a liver,
she scratches her itches
her greed is a quiver,
Demanding her pipe she
ascends on the stair,
the mal-odour of tripe
attests she was there
4:32 PM 12/27/2005
…to be continued…..
 (c) jane hamilton-post

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