cos occasionally I get all poetic..and it has nothing to do with this fine shiraz...

What are you that catches my gaze
Pausing my tracks
Where has this melody begun.
Lay in gentle fields-
wind whispers a name.
This hand still aches-
we have seen new worlds
dreamed new dreams
The darkness forever shattered all over her face.

What is this mystery
Uncontainable
A careful dance-
each note memorized
each change echoed softly softly
I sense night upon me but cannot feel it.
Mine is to sit here gently numbed-
endlessly falling
Lost in a wonderful mystery

What now.
What fools errand demands attention
Have I sinned against a name that this should befall me.
This distance
A word uttered against the wind.
Folly on any lips
Most certain.

What will come
Unknown gaze.
a finger traces across the line
silent smile of the mountains-
waving.
The cool wet grass.
a fallen joke.
five to midnight
left but a trace
to last.

What is not
broken void recedes
A narrow pass near the corner
Room is smaller than when I came in.
traffic slows-
at a certain pace
Those eyes.
Your eyes.
They turn me.

anything to numb the pain

i am so so sorry for anything that i've said or done that has hurt you...

- - -


anything to numb the pain, to cloud my judgement to restore a temporary blindness; amnesiac in bliss, frustration fades away left with self-indulgant feelings of my over-bloated sense of nihilistic bliss... and the mask i wear covers up the scars and makes me acceptable in your eyes. your eyes. your eyes like fire, burn through all i see and feel. feel... i don't feel, i have numbed the pain, partaken of the chalice, bottoms up and sweet surrender.

for now she is a memory, with details that erased must be.

i see her face and remember her eyes, but nothing else remains except the wounds that will not heal... "You are so un-judgemental", the scars tell another story, a story of sucking in my pride and admitting that we are not that different you and I, but through some hand of fate I have been saved what seems a more difficult state. A cloud of swirling judgement hinders your thoughts, i am not from the cloud, I am different, I see beyond, see that which you thought was dead. I pierce through the wall and awaken the child that still sits alone and cries. I wrap my arms around and shelter what you loan me, waiting for another morsel, another brick to crumble down.

My hand is reaching out, but I am not on solid ground... My footing though temporarily sure is but a moment from a different truth.

...I judge as, my eyes see... I judge and I am just...

unwelcome ones, your time has come...

servants of the fallen, fight to pave the way, for our saviours calling, on this wicked day...

-where is my love.
Is she here? Is she gone?

Fallen in with other sorts....

..in my mind, she runs and only looks back to she how far she's come from what she should be running to, and yet my mind it lies, deceives, believes a truth that never will be seen, why do i fight to save my all...

because i know that she believes and I know that she is coming back; the oxygen is running out and you can't hold your breath so long my dear...

and we will be like we wanted to be, dreaming about the place we seemed to find just then...

and truth will not delay us and the ships will fight to save us
for we will go marching on in such a race,

and be the respectible sort and complain about the little scrapes, i see it all and I understand that this is not the way that we should go, the way we know...

falling in line, following a distant star,
never too late to turn around
or return our feet to solid ground
and yet my heart, oh my heart...

weeping softly
you can almost see me
through the mist
fallacy of joy
i muster up the strength
and pay the price

sleep now the weary.... for I am about to be carried the rest of the way, my arm will not heal and my eye has fixed itself shut, still i sit and dream about what i and we should be

close the door
cut the lights
raise the mast
and we are gone.

columbus would be...

a line drawn in sand
is so quickly erased
by the earthquake passing
through this charade

and my body lies open
waits for the sun
carried asunder
with what i've become

So she's like a disease that cleans through my bones
wiped away all the stains i wish i'd disowned
but my conscience rests on this otherwise rift
torn through my defences, none left within

and i won't leave her anymore
and i'll stop the letters that pour out of mine
and i'll give up this foolish serenade
and i won't leave her anymore
no i promise i wont leave you

and a teardrop has fallen
through my disgrace
shattering starlight
all over her face

She makes me lie down
and she makes me so still
to feed off the waters
and puzzle my sin

So she's like a disease that cleans through my bones
wiped away all the stains i wish i'd disowned
but my conscience rests on this otherwise rift
torn through my defences, none left within

and i won't leave her anymore
and i'll stop the rose petals falling within
and i'll part ways with a silly face
and i won't leave her anymore
no i promise i wont leave you

and i won't leave her anymore
and i'll stop the tears i've been uttering since
and i'll give up my fallen grace
and i won't leave her anymore
no i promise i wont leave you


(C) Copyright 2008 Jeremy Martens

( i guess i should start doing this )

value

my dad sent me an article on an Australian ISP attempting to crack down on piracy.

i hit reply and 20 minutes later had constructed some sort of rant.

so i've posted it not in an attempt to be judgmental, but perhaps just to make people think about where they stand and why.

anyways enjoy
-----

tis interesting... but its amazing how many 'solutions' to piracy involve (in their essence) people being labeled as 'guilty' until proven 'innocent'.

How exactly do they begin to label people as copyright infringer's. And to what extent is one allowed to infringe before 'authorities' step in. If this is too short than many innocent people will be put in the line of fire. If too short then it will be ineffective on the whole.

As the author of the article almost hints at; the industry needs to spend less time trying to play Dad or God. People are going to commit illegal acts, and cracking down tends to produce more victims than success stories. [and leads us back to 'big brother' tyranny- evil pirates are out there... everywhere...]

In a way its like the 'binge drinking' problem. Its culture. I have been to a pastor's place and found various DVD's that were bought in Thailand/SE Asia. These are by no means legitimate DVD's. But according to that particular pastor's world view/culture/ideology, there is nothing wrong with this.

As it is we have a culture steeped in the desperate search for 'what we want' at a cheaper price.

'Why should I have to pay if i can have it for free' bleeds from the wounds of post-modern society.

A recent argument I heard was to do with downloading television episodes because the person felt that they should not have to miss out on a particular show just because of a local ratings war (or free-to-air vs. cable). So the issue here is not whether you should download television episodes or not but the same 'industry' is saturating us and taunting us with news of things that are being released elsewhere, but continues to play God in deciding when to let us see it (or hear it...) and cries fowl when we attempt to subvert their grip on the information.

Should we pay for what we consume? I guess. But when you consider that more money gets paid to film producers from advertising sources and television stations (broadcast rights) it changes the dynamics of the situation. [or perhaps the importance/value of my 'share']

Kathryn and I chat occasionally about where the world is going on this topic. Media thinks that labels/production houses may be on the way out, perhaps they will simply be replaced with distribution houses. perhaps the internet is simply another distribution house. Perhaps the key is finding out how to get the people with the money to spend it on our product rather than just downloading it. In a digital age, value is placed back on the tangibles. a first edition, a large size vinyl, a special edition dvd, a comprehensive booklet, expensive or at least interesting packaging...

I think if we can restore value of a product in people's eyes we will have gone a long way to fighting piracy.

and perhaps we can just write off the rest of piracy as tyre kickers. testing the product but not convinced enough to buy it.

J

- - - -

keen to dialogue about this if anyone's interested...

scribble

to be honest I wonder if i still struggle with paranoia.

and perhaps this is all a way of working out those scenarios in a safe space.

sometimes i wonder if the paranoia is more something else...

more truth..

perhaps i am being cruely let in on peoples secrets...

i hope for yoursake i'm not, otherwise this will all seem quite horrible for someone...

or perhaps its good. perhaps seeing the truth is motivational or heart breaking or connects someone with God. Who can tell...

But i definitely do not have the ignorance to deny... only the torment or perhaps the illumination of discourse and pondering...

i like to think of myself as stuck halfway between arrogance and cynicistic despair

...theres got to be at least one more left in me...


-----

seduced
broken, left buried
a shell
laid waste by disease
bitter and empty
last light flicks off
shadows are waiting
dawn feels too soft
spider like hands
embrace what is lost
a figure of teeth
the hunger of lost
shame reigns again
but for a spell
cotton eyed weary
the sun's sweet surrender
shallow lies in wait
a distant shore
his hands
my face
enclose
safe

you're all i need..... you're all i need....i'm in the middle of your picture

...i feel you now
but im sure uve made the bed
and you're all i need
stretching truth away
do you find me on my knees
are you begging for my trust again

stars keep moving through the sky
not sure if i'm alive

and we've lied, and we've cried
but the superstructure holds itself up
there is no amount of blood flow
that can keep me away
banging at the door
but your heart is closed again
so much noise to wake you
is mercy too late

must i keep returning
to the space i love alone
to black marks in my mind
to the scratch you left behind

stars keep moving through the sky
still not sure if i'm alive...

Where is my love...

If i seek you, do i find you
under the rocks, under the sun
where you spoke so freely
lies oceans of static
where can i hide from you
yet you seem distant
both here and up close
yet nothing follows
taunted and scorned by others experience
i sit alone and question why
do i have so far to go?
i feel theres no place to start
how to begin
i speak, you listen
patiently and confidently
what is it like to be close to you
to hear each others breath
...
take my life
fill me from the inside