the Poet

11:11:11

He'd eat his own kids; Some men were cast into this world for reasons none of us could  understand. I became the scapegoat to my Poetic business partner. A Character whose greatest ability was to create  hindsight, own you, and then take what he wanted from a subject; most specifically for his own gain: and by creating   'the Drama'  - he set out to ruin my life;  everything I  loved,  my mother, my kids infected with lies for him to gain control over all  my property. 'My brother' - he'd call; the bullshit artists' Artist - who got to the top by taking it from others. Unable, incomplete he could not give love; and  looking back seeing him  lying on that Hospital bed in pain - how he must of laughed as what a sucker I was who cared for him as a Brother;  but the love never returned instead there were conditions.

 

a serious motorcycle accident......

 

So later in recovery immobilized for four long months, I could only try an empathize his pain by keeping our business going and ensuring his wage went in each week to cover the bills his family needed. He never really added any value to the business; most days spent looking at the his bank account - watching it grow and always panicking  'that I had to do something more' like work harder ! He was so well adapted in the art of emotional abuse when chewing gum was found the petrol receipts with an ability to poison things that he became jealous of and always applied his talents behind your back as a tongue slid down your arse-crack.  He had to be the centre of attention, but also sad in being such  an empty soul. The true character was revealed  soon after a problem arose, I didn't know I had - telling me of how 'I'd have to improve......'  with references in his language that created so much more nostalgia from this small book that lay next to his Hospital bed........

 

'the book of Drama' ......  

 

Perhaps it was a sense of longing he felt, to be rich & spectacular - or had it been a sense of grandeur he wished for that drove his ego to be surrounded by all my bounty too -  maybe his clay was of such overwhelmingly poor quality that he searched for submission to feel any joy. And If this fate was so predestined then, to his mind he would have to do what's necessary to obtain it without consideration of his family or friends - So illuminated was this mind though, that I considered a need in him to attain a thorny crown and  sit under the cross in his office. From all this planned conjecture, it must have been  an early stage that he decided his assets weren't sufficient,  purely as a duty to his Ego and that thought leads me to speculate I should have avoided him in the first place years ago as I'd considered. I just have not been able to reconcile in my mind, of how any intelligent person could  use another person's Children in considering how to take all my business equity when his own Children hated him.

 

He sad in my own kitchen & infected my ex........

 

This kindred soul had been planning for some grandeur and it was almost twenty years I'd been in  partnership until he found Mr. Piggy to transport this motivation further - I have reconciled that such men could only attain any movement for their empty lives by riding on the back of others backing a  new manager of affairs. The Hourman I use as a metaphor,  for those Simpletons & Poets on Earth who change the time / space into time with adversity. The succession planning was swift, basically overnight  by express mail sacked from the businesses I had created many years before he was known.

 

Swine flu I say......

 

As the subject matter of karma such men have to steal creativity and plagiarize it for  themselves as they just haven't got any in the first place. It maybe that the sensation of my empathic nature was so alluring he justifies a right to use it, or was it simply that this being considered his self as so much greater than I could ever be.  The millions of dollars in properties, motorbikes and cars, that resided on my side of the fence, I knew he would not find satisfaction in, but it was  the place where he searched  to feed the emptiness - within

 

Year of the Pig......

 

The Hourman doesn't resonate highly  - he can't hear any frequencies that improve the quality of life. It must be denial that enables him to consider himself  as a leader. It is only when such people are awoken to such poor quality clay that it becomes all quite a shock to them in seeing their true face in the mirror. Less courage is exposed in these 'behind the scenes' type activities and a great ability to lack care about others legendary. The fraudulent scribe working under the candle light, in secrecy, planning  behind the scenes, but to your face he'll smile and say you are like a brother. The very truth of such a soul wavers in time yet disinterested for the emotional space of others to call out  sarcasms as laughter, but so sad that even his own family could not escape from.

 

Smiling like a Rat with a Gold tooth......

 

I became poor, broken & mentally worn out by the tripe being baked up by his Legal team. My credit rating was ruined from unpaid accounts and no Solicitor could help me. As the seven pipes of drama played, coincidentally the Stock market collapsed. My poor luck continued, mortgagee in possession,  instructions came for the house I loved and built - sold for half its value. A Changing World came upon me like a wrecking ball. My Children had no house and I had awoken to his game when my Mother rang and told me she'd 'never be apart of my life again for what I'd done.' the meaning remains unfathomable.

 

but I grew much stronger with Patience......

 

The moral of this story must be that our character is only protected with good friends & I had many. To question your self when so many are against you beckons self faults, dropping  to our knees considering, the love we'd received had been given  so conditionally. I was strengthened in the art of adversity ensuring a sober state was kept to distance myself from this whole drunken affair.

 

the awakening......

 

Karma would have the trump card in this matter as equal & opposing forces. The real  protagonist in this story was in the mirror, in seeing self as the man who missed out any love,  using the only people who had ever loved him.  The great violins of the Universe traded places with the noise of  great motorbike rides, the awesome madness of the band room, a brother who loved him and against all those who he had used to make his life richer, but then everything becomes meaningless to the gold tooth Rat and

 

 in reality to many -  it was all simply trivial.......

 

    C O P Y R I G H T  J U P I T E R P R O D U C T I O N S 1998 SPINNING AROUND IN JUPITER    S  K  U  T  C  H   (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED)