Tuesday, January 22, 2008

As per the original: the poems which were sent to shok_neuronae@yahoo.com.au when he asked me if the poetry I put in my weblogs is really my own

The person who named himself to me as "shok_neuronae" also gives out, or sells a white CD, called "too deadly", of something never to be bothered listening to we can expect. On the face of the CD is the name "John Hilton".

This post contains the three poems of mine which he responded to, as per the e-mails forwarded now on into this website.

Bizarrely, he also attempted to informed me, that if one makes writing "left align" then you can read the first word in each line as the persons left wing analysis, while if you "right align" the words form a right wing analysis. However, I do not believe him, and reckon that either ASIO are all totally balmy, or he was attempting to convince me to behave in a way which might cause others to suppose that I have an actual serious mental illness. Either that or he was attempting to assert that premise as his own psychological experiment, or had been introduced to the idea among other ideas of how mass psychosis works.

Whoever he is portrays himself as a slightly mad left wing street activist, and has been arrested demonstrating in South Australia as though to prove his left wing kudos. He has strange tattoos on his arms, which are not the sort normally agreed to in the tattoo parlours, one a plain green, and another is a plain red target.

After many years of being under ASIO surveillance, and having frequently enough decided upon the strategy of speaking with persons whom I am wary of, so as to either give evidence of no need to worry, give evidence that they are likely to be a policeman, or to leave me further wondering: I was initially certain that there was a high likelihood that "shok" worked for ASIO. He is normally quite good at that work it seems. However, there was a situation in which he exposed to me that he is an ASIO employee, then gave me frightening information, but then said something else so that I knew he would try to portray me as insane if my own mind were to agree with his statement of his status. The poems he received from me were directly after he asserted that I was not the author of my own poetry, and he then gave me his e-mail address. I decided to play along with what he was supposing of me: that I was not intelligent to his attempts to manipulate my psychology. And the result is the e-mails he sent me, by altering my poems then forwarding to me, which I have posted in the next three posts after this one.

Significantly also, ASIO seem to have been encouraging the Queensland State police force to suppose that they are certain that my brain is non-functional in my own decision making, and thereby Queensland police have been strikingly biased against me, including around the circumstances of a family law court case. Even while writing this I was approached in the public library by a different person whom is highly likely also to be a non-uniform policeman, and he spoke to me extremely patronisingly about the fact that I have had a haircut. Whatever the police might want to believe, the fact is that if we have already been branded with the worst possible reputation -which is what has happened to me since moving to the state of Queensland, after my children's father, unexpectedly and uncharacteristically, refused to return my children into my custody- then playing along with police presumptions that belief in left wing politics, is tantamount to being extremely unintelligent and having a criminal psychology, seems to bear the fruit of letting police expose their practises, their ideology, and their methodology. However, it is not recommended for anybody with any reputation left to salvage.

Here are the original poems:





Relate to the case of legitimate obligation to abide within the letter of legislation





Regardless of what you might reckon


Yourself of the worth in the lesson


Of Islam's Prophet with those who believe in


This fact has been


That by accusing indigenous Australians


Of the worst in any human nation


We Aborigines can


At times seem to manifest aligned


To those conditions folk read of


Which establish to believe in


Where the realising of prophesy is seeming


And I here am claiming


These conditions be no more than


The form of abuse began


By those who sought to profit from


Obtaining money upon


Being first to predict how prophesy might realise to belong


So to honour Mohammed refuse to play along


With the game of blaming your money upon


How other folk in other places


Are coping with the basis


That prophesy is written upon








The Spiders: a poem about the disturbance to reality.





The spiders of our nightmares


Be never what they seem


Yet as they are spiders


Why it might well be mean


To hate them into a dream


For the cooks are savvy (only imaginatively)


The screws no navie (apparently)


The gardeners unseen


But the rock spider hated


Is only life saving


If in prison you have been


When in fact among them


Are who


Were in violence


Loved into


Telling a screw


Please but I need protection too


For the definition


Of the rock spiders status


Works on the assumption


Built into imprisoned embarrassed sodomised screws


That every bum-faced


Emprisoned inmate


Might have no reason to


Want to kill you


Unless you were so bad as they who


Were caught in the act


Charged and convicted a fact


Of assaulting a child's childhood that


The whole world is permitted to hate at


But did you


Or any man who


Asked to live through


His prison sentence


Protected from being raped to death


By other inmates not convicted for such


Since the screws can only assume


Might only be fated


For the rock spiders who


Had in fact raped a child the truth


While near by to me


Living locally I see


Are those child rapers who


Too constipated too


Be found out by prison inmates who


Have been deluded into


Supposing that


A dick covered in shit


Is what wisdom is gained through


But those silver tailed spiders


Ex-prison inmates who


Were never yet convicted for what they did do


Against their own child who


Was too deluded therein to tell you


Since in their family


The only safety has been


When rapists suffer convictions from


More overt violence than


That against the inner most sensibility


And served a prison term


As the silver tail


Sort of spiders who avail


Themselves of spiking all food


With addictive substances


If the rest of abuses of prison were not already enough


And oh the big fuss


They all make of their hate


For those rock spiders plus


Those innocent


Among whom


Have informed me of such


Will you realise then that


The abuse they needed protecting from


Might only have been of


Refusing to become


Complicit with


The whole system in which


The crimes of some men


Go unchecked by imagining


To cause us all be assuming


That another had committed it


So will you here too


Work as I can through


Knowing in certain truth


That the innocent men so abused


Have been who


Were protecting


The rest of society


From what they there in prisons


Working for organised crime did do


And that the multitude


Protecting you


Are indigenous who


Have been the worst abused


So cling on to


The crimes various


Only in part true


As that which their strength is to


Be forced into


By those whom


Have been trying to force all indigenous men into


The behaviour their own worst fears are through


Of raping childhoods many but thus no longer true


That if the force can be


Thus well displaced


Into any other criminal face


Best let that be the case


Better to realise this mate


That fighting for justice


By making men into inmates


Of such untold corruptions


To the humanity of our nation state


Can sustain no legal case


No matter how many efforts were made


To imply that those of us who inform you of why


Might be the criminal type


Able to be policed


Within an anti-terrorist base


Of policing unchecked


Meanwhile the use of the prisons


And spider and insect songs in


Has been


How the brothels which rape children


Imagined that they were funding


Excusing the crimes


Of what costs every life


For no more will I be yet another wife


To men who've been inmates of the prisons in strife


Without speaking up about these wasted lives


Being spent upon how organised crime


Maintain letting the richest in monetary means


Imagine impossible excuses to find


Are the real Australian dream


So believe it in me to beNow time


This story is begun


To be told right


Even despite


That in the knowledge every person alive might


Perceive that death exists of just knowing this


Such is the fear


Of the men whose lives


So beaten down


Refused


So far yet to tell to you


Not that they wanted the hell they are in to continue


But that they wished not for it ever to


Expand out into


The whole society as news


But for a mother's need of her husband


Will I now here begin to say the truth of


What must be ended with


For if the conditions in


Prisons are let to continue


Will there be no life left with any real value


Unless


The spiders of our dreams


Are not let out into


The world that is not as it seems


But rather realise their bites fail through


Not being the right form of life


Through which the exorcism


Of the nightmare of child rape


Will be worked out alright


Through the mud crabs


The prawns


The grubs and worms


Of our mental storms


Have the invertebrates


And singled cell creatures mate


Knowledge in DNA of living the fate


Through which into deliver those nightmares


Of hate never to enact And of late


The key to it never again happening


This be found of that fact


In being those nightmares gate


The experience of every inmate


Of any Australian prison


Has been the terror of


Becoming their own sodomist


For only when engaging in


That most terrible of sins


Are the perpetrators of child abuse


Not imagining to excuse their selves through


So do


Believe also you who


Fear what I write here might well be true


Know that to


End of this night mare


Of timelessness undermined


We all just might


Want of the exoskeletal dreaming


To be attuned in just right


Such as that our own humanity in spite


For the turtle will ever


Be the evidence of forever


Has the end of all child rape


Been in God inevitable


And of sodomy's ripe test


Through the first Angel in Revelations


This singularly Islamic status


Rather just find


Better than sodomy's bind


Is the mutual identification


With each and every of


Our own gender station


Being the way we


In humanity traditionally


Blunt the effect of


What lust does to us


So recognise that such


Makes death the must


Unavoidably the reason of


And no matter by whose call


Know that only to Allah


Can death's benefit fall








Christmas


I took this



You gave which



Could make of



My Christmas



Yet without its



Potential



In reality is



That the path towards



What you tried to cause



Prevented



Just as I had



Originally contended



For your facts had



The truth



Only pretended



Not of my own efforts expended



Nor resources available to be spent for



Yet if not for



The large expensive core



Of your direction



Upon the path of the poor



Surrounded as we all were



By being fully obstructed



In the realm of real justice



For Christmas this



Is that which



Never could have come



The way you gave it



Yet the orange flavour



The fabric made for



Cake baked because



My word not a pauper's



In social mores for you tasted



Love have I not this Christmas wasted











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