"Sick England"

"Sick England"


The streets are littered with discarded Poundland England flags,
Railway bridges are super busy with disillusioned English lemmings.
Rope & one way train tickets to Beachy Head are selling out fast.
The Women of our once great country cower under the stairs & in trembling wardrobes,
Where swollen lips & panda eyes quiver & bulge,
As empty beer can after empty beer can are hurled at the trashed tv in the next room. It is the end of the world as they know it.
Our country's gallant fan of football lick their wounds of split knuckles & tooth dented toe caps.

Kicked in doors.

Hammered steering wheels.

Broken hearts.

There is sick everywhere.

Sick & blood.

Sick & blood & tears.

Not mine, I am more of a snooker man myself!




Jason








(C) JPT June 2010.

"Stains On The Scenery"

The shit must go,
And the piss too,
The coffee remains,
As I don't have two,
The blood may stay,
As do the crumbs,
One sweeps away,
The other one runs,
The sweat soaks in & disappears,
The pubes too,
Are the least of your fears,
But, If I may say,
With not scare nor fright,
There be one other that's lost it's sight,
In My dreams so dark,
Fantasies so deep,
I am merely one man,
Whom did die in his sleep.




Jason








(C) JPT June 2010.

"Stop Being A Monster, Jae"

Time to take away the mask?



You're alone in the dark, feeling like you don't want to go home. You're feeling as if life has all but finished, but you keep on killing.

The reason is simple. The reason is there for all to see. The reason being so simple. To kill. You won't find it in you until you've been and gone. Because you're living a lie!

Someone has got to see behind your mask. Your killing mask. Your monster suit! Dull your brain and don't say a word. Just close your eyes and pray. You feel excitement, and then you finally pray that it was long and painful.

It was.

Transform into a machine, to cut away your head. So you can stand back and watch and learn to be dead. If you don't know the pain, then you're still part of the preyed.

You will lose!

Because out in the heat it's strange, to see the blood of your fellow man drying into hard scabs of black shit, knowing full well that you're at the darker end of OK.

Avoid the blade or carry the knife, the choice is yours.


Look at this monster. A non-person with a mask and a monster suit. A semi-disabled nothing. A killer with your eyes in his head.

The greatest masturbator of them all, a sodden mess with a penchant for the end. He'd wipe himself out if he had the chance, but he wouldn't like it, no?

So, stop being a cunting monster!





Jason








(C) JPT 2009

"Comfortably, I Died"

Goodnight sweet prince.


When you say it's going to hurt, it doesn't, it just feels normal, but it still kills me. And, then I feel the pain.
And when you say it's going to be nice, it isn't, it just feels like death, but I won't die.
And, then I died. I died in a field surrounded by so much space. I felt so bloody greedy. But, I didn't care much as I was quite comfortable sitting in my car. My arms hurt but I didn't look down to see why because I knew they were smashed right up. My nose hurt too, but the rear view mirror was smashed. Out of the corner of my one working blood soaked eye I noticed such a wonderful sunset. It was blinding. I closed my eye and waited for the blood to dry it shut for good as I saw and felt the sun disappear for the very last time through my heavy eyelid. I may have been crying. Who knows? I felt like I was crying inside. Like when your dreams are so vivid and when you cry in your sleep you're really genuinely crying but when you wake up there are no tears. Your pillow is dry and your face kind of looks normal as you stare into the bathroom mirror. The cold tap running slightly. You can't hear the water pour because you made yourself deaf several hours earlier so you could listen to your heart beating and your lungs breathe in and out.
Now, as I sit dying in my wrecked car all I can think of is going to sleep. My feet feel wet, but warm. No pain. Just a gentle ticking sound of the cooling engine as my heart makes its final beats. I was on my way home, but it seems as if I am already there.



Jason








(C) JPT 2009

"The Cunt Splice Of Life"

What I saw on my 38th birthday!


When My friend will You be gone?
Your demise, your end, your very last song?
Are you heading towards the usual trend?
Where beauty holds you to the end?

Where living in your contentedness,
Where you shall Love and savour my kiss.
But, I'm afraid for you and yours,
The time is here to hold and to pause.

The leaves shall stop falling,
The river seizes to flow,
The birds stop calling,
The wind will never blow,

With eyelid shut and static chest,
With nothing to rest so nothing left,
With all things dying, with nowhere to send,
With nowhere to go, where all things end.

Sneaking up behind you!
Invisible through your very last tear,
That ghostly tap on your shoulder,
That shiver out of the blue so clear.

While ice cracked beneath your feet,
I pity the day when you & I may meet,
For the time I held up your bony weight,
I did fail and watched you fall through fate.

Your time has come too real for sure,
If you thought it was bad now, it was worse before,
For those that begin to want it so nice,
All you are left with is the great, the wonderful cunt splice of life!




Jason








(C) JPT 2009

"Too Small Watery Room"

I am here, more than that I do not know.




Wow-weee! If I was minuscule enough, I'd Love to swim in that there rain droplet:)

Imagine that!!!!!! spoke the softest, sweetest voice I had ever heard!

I did, I did. I excitedly replied.

And, as I was in that there rain droplet, everyone looked like those cute dogs with the little bodies, big heads and even bigger noses. It was like looking into the back of a highly polished giant silver spoon! It was utterly amazing! Only when someone took time to come and visit me, that is. Because most of the time I would be alone, but happy in the knowledge that someone would be along to witness such a spectacle. Of course, I didn't mind spending most of the day and night all on my own. I Loved every moment of my isolations. It gave me time to think of all that had gone before me and all that might come. I could also make out the other rain droplets attached to the same leaf as mine and they were all empty! I couldn't decide whether it was a good or bad thing that I was the only one occupying one of these numerous land based cloud fragments. In the end, my little, and infrequent visits from my gigantic deformed friends and family stopped. I felt so alone all of a sudden and trapped! There was absolutely no escape. The walls of my watery sphere were so thick and strong, only a man with much more strength than I might succeed in making good a run to freedom. I wouldn't have got far, even if I had been able to escape. I was literally miles up in the air. With an endless space before me, full of all kinds of dangerous creatures and hazzards, all I wanted was to be back in my liquid lair, only for me to want to get out again lest a slug slithered across on his slippery tummy and drank my little minuscule home, along with me too! I wouldn't have lasted long in there anyway. I suppose a tiny droplet of water such as mine would only last a little while before it evaporated into thin air leaving me wriggling like a fish out of water on the rough surface of my new leafy home, only for me to quickly dry up into a little minuscule crispy version of myself. One by one the other rain droplets would ever so discreetly and invisibly hiss back into the sky from whence they came. I'd be totally naked too. I mean, you wouldn't want to swim in your clothes would you? My skin would very rapidly stretch tight across the thin fragile skelington of my withered, dried, sun scorched body. If I wasn't in so much pain, I'd be able to hear my skin as it cracked and split across the more pointy sections of my once beautiful physique. Anyone listening, even right up close, would not hear a thing as I slowly but inevitably disappeared completely. Unless of course I was eaten first by that hungry slug or greedy snail. Which wouldn't be so unlikely, because I remember seeing tens of the things at any one time, especially just after rain, and even more so their pearlescent trails criss-crossing the garden, before I ended up in this place. I thought it was going to be wonderful in here. I thought that I could live out the rest of my days inside this droplet, watching the world go by as I did so. I thought this was my new living place. I thought this was my new room to dream in. I wanted to die peacefully in here, but I can't even do that. My new home will be no more long before I die. My space is not mine. It never has been, nor will it ever be!





Jason

Special thanks to Shelley Skinner for the use of her wonderful photo taken in her garden in Margate on the 11th September 2008.








(C) JPT 2008

"Demolished Are The Stars"

And we all fall in!


The center of it all, the darkness where I fall,
See how the core is built.
The mantle is where I sleep away, where morning doesn't call,
See how the crust is built.
The oceans boil for me to see, the light that says no to me,
See how the Earth is built.
The air that rushes in, to push out any breath so thin,
See how the sky is built.
The darkness comes flooding back, theres nothing there, just black,
No one is building stars anymore!




Jason








(C) JPT 2008.........

"The Ninth Breath"

A bleeding moon in a blackened night sky that even death cannot escape!



It was the Ninth breath breathing I hear,
The ninth night goes on and on, the night of the tear,
Hiding behind smoked, dark glassy eyes,
Crashing through zebras as this time of day dies,
No one can see, but the blood, it is falling,
The damage is done, the distance is calling,
Deadly quiet, loud torment,
Isn't crying hell sent,
Crying is beautiful, crying is sad,
There's no end to this agony, no smile to be had,
One hundred miles to our open wound,
Stitches wide to swallow the moon,
I try to bring you back in my night time,
You find your way back to me, I miss you, what a crime,
Still breathing the ninth, my baby is here,
I can feel her crying, she's so near,
How is it done, she's so far away,
In exactly the same place, she saves me another day,
Almost over, this place thats so right,
Back home to my dreaming place, saved for the night.



Jason







(C) JPT 2008

"He Buzzes like a Fridge"

Mister Yorke doing everything but disappearing completely in a park in London last Wednesday.


The big black cat pushed home
holding half her bloody wardrobe
proceeded to stick it in his aching back
and to all his fellow humans
he said "don't even fucking go there!"
I stood with whom I liked, see
she looked me up and down
but I threw her with my eyes!

And now I don't know how
I feel like a slaughtered cow!

I stood in the middle
and shuffled round in the heat
they were cheering and waving
pointing and smoking and drinking
singing and dancing like with drunken Meerkats
but it got heated, fucked up
colourful, squashed up
used as a stepping stone to York
buried in a burning back in London

And now I don't know how
I feel like a slaughtered cow!

Don’t know why I walked away to find the back of the queue!

My reason was safe and a little needed
I stretched and I hobbled like with those drunken Meerkats
you should put me in a hole or you should put me up a tree
I got drunk
We got drunk, see

No one Loves a retarded arse but we all Love our rock & roll stars
this wasn't her infection, I did it for me
I must have got it from years of being
strangled, beaten up and drowned in the sea
I got drunk
We got drunk, You & Me

And now I don't know how
I feel like a slaughtered cow!




Jason


P.s. Happy Birthday to Manf tomorrow:)xxx








(C) JPT 2008

"The Sea Above, The Eye Below"

See how everything looks Lovely? Especially you?




I fell into your eyes baby and what did I see?
You opened your eyes and dove with me
Came held your breath with me and saw
Us swim through the coral, baby, up onto the shore
Through heavens & hells
Baby, come swim with me
Through sunbeams & sea shells, baby
Through fishes and the endless sea
Come dive with me, baby,
Come swim through the wrecks
Come swim down with me, baby
Come swim to new depths
Come swim with me and play in the sand
Come dive with me baby and let's drown hand in hand




Jason


P.s. Ian Kevin Curtis - R.I.P.








(C) JPT 2008

"The Little Runner"

The Green Box at the end of the Meadway, Twickenham today.



I tried running away but my ankles said no,
I tried sitting still but told to get up and go,
I tried to face it head on and look into it's eye,
I tried to welcome it too, but that just made me cry,

I run in my dreams and I ran in my past,
I ran all the time and so bloody well fast,
I ran from my Dad and the back of his hand,
I ran to my Mum and her arms so tanned,

The run in my park until it was dark,
The run at school whilst the others played ball,
The run to spurs then right back to earth,
The run down the stairs, from all those nightmares,

I wish I could run, just a little bit,
To the green box and back where we used to sit,
Long gone now, it had to go,
The fast turned to pain and my ankles said no!




Jason


Happy Birthday to Tania tomorrow:)








(C) JPT 2008.........795.41 miles.

"Pearl of a Girl"

York House Statues, Twickenham February 2008


"Pearl of a Girl"


Found at the bottom of a tearful sea,
Her home for millions of years for me,
Her bed slowly frozen in time in this place,
She's never felt sure, She's never felt safe,
Until darkness glows with a vision so bold,
To take her away from here, away from this cold,
She moves with the flow, erosion in tow,
Waiting to go with the diver below,
He's been holding his heart and his deep cold breath,
To escape this hell, to escape this death,
Only salt and sand to hold her hand,
This is her world, this is her land,
Brought to the surface in a race with the fish,
We reach the air just in time for a kiss,
She's a pearl of a girl, She's been forming for me,
She's my pearl of a girl, She's been dreaming to be.



Jason


By Jason Paul Tolmie, 22:17pm, September 3rd, 2002.








(C) JPT 2008.........572.12 miles

"This is the Room"

Believe me, it's in there. The room where it all started! The Royal Free Hospital today, Hampstead, London.



Kid fingered dolls line the wall,
Small soft footsteps heard out in the hall,
Tell me something Mother of mine,
Will I see the end, will I be fine?
Dirty old men sniffing out girls,
Black & white dogs shitting themselves,
White coated men man handling the boys,
Handing them tissues, handing them toys,
Socks hanging off the ends of my feet,
Feeling sick way down, pain comes to meet,
Blood up the walls, sick on the floor,
Tears in my eyes, gap in the door,
Remote control, You & me,
Who is to blame, My fault maybe?
The light is my friend until it goes out,
Then darkness, I call, I want, so I shout,
This is the room, the start of it all,
The beginning, the end, the long hard fall,
Bags of sweets for the holes in me,
Come play with the needles, come play on my knee,
I've been lost ever since I left that room,
I'm still here, but the room is a tomb,
It's no longer there now, a place no more,
It's just a room, four walls and a door,
Still you can hear the line outside,
Of young boys & girls who have already died,
I'm left with nothing, empty & hollow,
I'm still in that line just waiting to follow.



Jason






(C) JPT 2008.........490.84 miles.

"One She Dislikes"

What my Dad wrote on the back; This teacher likes or dislikes certain children and Jason is one she dislikes. He sits next to another boy who is very naughty, But I have sorted this out. L Tolmie



Trafalgar Junior School, Twickenham.

Name; Jason Paul Tolmie
Class; IW
Date; Summer 1979

English

Reading age; 7 years 2 months. Jason's reading has improved considerably this year and his word attack skills have also advanced a lot. His handwriting is still very cramped and slowly produced. He is able to write in sentences when he sets his mind to the task and is making a start on story writing. He makes little effort to learn his spellings for tests but there has been some improvement in this field because of his better reading skills.
He has little idea about punctuation. His written comprehension work is slowly improving but he dislikes the effort involved in answering fully and skimps this type of work. His aural comprehension work is better but still suffers from his poor concentration.

Mathematics

Jason has not made much effort to master the simple number bonds, nor has he learnt any of his multiplication tables. He can count on in two's with difficulty. His concept of place value is very shaky - he is fairly happy with tens and units but hundreds and thousands confuse him completely. He can add tens and units and is beginning to master carrying with the aid of Dienes apparatus. He can manage only the simplest subtraction and although he has had experience of multiplication and sharing he is not yet able to do simple sums using these operations. He cannot manage problems using the basic operations. He can measure accurately in centimeters but has difficulty in drawing straight lines and using a compass. He is still confused about telling the time. He can do simple money sums.

Environmental Studies

Jason has poor concentration and rarely listens for long in Environmental Studies lessons. He does not contribute to discussions nor is he able to answer questions sensibly. He is unable to record factual in his own words, although he is now able to copy notes accurately from the blackboard.
Although an eager participant in gymnastics and games he is not always a sensible one. In Country Dancing and Movement he is also frequently silly and does not listen to instructions. He makes little effort to join in singing lessons but has made a start with the recorder. His artwork is careless and he prefers to throw plasticene rather than model with it.

General Development

At the beginning of the year Jason avoided work whenever he could. Fortunately, he discovered that he had to finish work before he could play and this led to a dramatic increase in output. His standard of work has improved immeasurably and while not yet up to average he should be able to work more with his own class next year.
This improvement in work has not been reflected in his general behaviour. He has been frequently in trouble during this year. He is often slyly disobedient. He has been observed misbehaving or, more seriously, taking other childrens' property, and then steadfastly denies his guilt. He is violent towards other children, secure in the knowledge that they may not hit him back. While acknowledging the difficulties Jason faces because of his illness some action is necessary to stop Jason and his appalling behaviour.

Class Teacher; Miss S R Webber
Headmaster; Mr Emblin


Oh how sweet! What a Lovely little boy,
run with him, play with him like your favorite toy,
He was beautiful, he was shy, he wouldn't hurt a fly,
Ok, he'd pick off their wings, poke them in the eye,
he did throw pasticene all around the class,
straight over the other kids and into some glass,
he borrowed forever, another boys thing,
a boy who was happy, a boy who could sing,
poor concentration, I wonder why?
his illness and violence, why deny?
you may not hit me for I will bleed to death,
but if I deserve it, you may take my last breath.



I was eight and a half...just! I was a very shy boy and quiet most of the time but as you can see, I was a little sod too. But then I was the only boy in my school who spent hours up at the A&E in the middle of the night on a regular basis...crying in pain, trying not to think about the needle that I thought I was avoiding during the day at school, hoping my bleed would go away on it's own! They never did go away! So up to the hospital I went at 2am, back at home at 5am. Missing school the next day (hooray) because I was exhausted from all of the pain and feeling terribly frightened. I should have been asleep, dreaming. Like most other eight and a half (just) year old little boys.

I didn't know it at the time, neither did my teacher, nor my headmaster, nor my Mum & Dad, not even my doctors...but I had Hep C too! Let me throw plasticene for gods sake! Let me have some fun before it all goes tits up!

"You got haemophilia haven't you? And that means we ain't supposed to hit you doesn't it?"
...If I have done something to deserve being hit, then hit, hit away boys, I won't stop you...

Note; I don't remember being violent towards other children, I was just not that sort of kid. Yeah, all schools have their fair share of little shits and I was one of them...sometimes, when I needed to be one. If I was pushed or provoked, I would give back accordingly...maybe a little more just to make sure they didn't do it again. Some people you can talk your way out of a fight, others you just have to run and some just need to be hit straight away and hard. I have never hit anyone for no reason!




Jason









(C) JPT 2007.........2773.14 miles.

"Always Acting Fearless"

My first roll in the Thames last Sunday night...



Always in front, always in danger,
never behind, never safer,
Sick of it all, especially you,
The one who pulls me, tells me to...

Always the tallest, always up high,
Never down, to high to cry,
The air is thin, can't breathe anymore,
You tell me come down, be by your...

Always in deep, never shallow,
Never the air, never the flow,
The water is cold, dark down here,
I'm told to re-surface, where it is clear...

Always no fear, always no shame,
Never scared, never in pain,
This front is all, this front is good,
I wish it would fall, I wish it would.



Jason






(C) JPT 2007.........1742.57 miles

"Ample Pulling Power"

Part one of a very special journey.....The Beginning...

Dedicated to Ample, UC & Tea.........& to all other passengers taking this special journey.


What am I doing, am I mad......mad as a hatter?
What have I done, am I done as well as can be?
I done my bit, quite elegantly too some might say.
Is it quite enough though this tiny section of my Life?
Will good prevail over bad, or will bad stick like shit?
Pulling this poison from my body, has it helped?
Poison kills poison.....Violence more Violence more like!
Not for me, but for some, more than some.....most!
Just how lucky has this poison been for me?
Just how bad has it been to others?......still being bad!
What do I do now? Wait.....more waiting? For what?
It will either be good or bad......Not in between?
No in betweens here I am afraid!
You either did or you did not!
You either will or you will not!
Out of your hands girl!
The pulling is over now......no more pushing just to pull.
Just how much have I managed to pull out from my body?
Pull? More like pleasantly eased.
Easy for me to say......Easy!
Not all easy.....not even for me!
Certainly not for others!
We are all pulling, pushing to pull......like distant locomotives.
Feeding coal into the fire.....more steam.
Tending to the controls.....not over pulling those levers.
It takes time. One has to wait for good things right?
Just how long is anyones guess.
One thing is for sure though.
The end will arrive wether we like it or not.....it always does!

Part two of a very special journey.........The End...


Jason







(C) JPT 2007

Depressed are the...

The depression of my boot...



Depressed are small sections of carpet as I shuffle from one room to the other
Depressed is My cheek when I have a bad toothache
Depressed are the soles of my shoes as I ponder in Tescos
Depressed is the mattress from the dead weight of my dreaming body
Depressed are the buttons on the poxy TV remote control
Depressed is the flattened cushion under my great big fat arse
Depressed are the pedals by my feet whilst driving to the station
Depressed is the bottle of ketchup as it oozes it's contents all over my chips
Depressed are five areas on my forehead when I am fed up
Depressed is the return key when I command a new sentence
Depressed are the centres of all jarred food stuffs before I buy
Depressed is the middle of any trampoline you care to choose
Depressed are the giant blisters on the front of my Effavirenz
Depressed is the snow that creaks with uncertainness under my excited weight
Depressed are the dirty black rubber buttons that open the train door
Depressed is the air just in front of my index finger when I point
Depressed are the plungers of all the syringes I have ever used on myself
Depressed is the tissue that blots out the bleeding needle hole
Depressed are my eyelids when I am tired or have something irritating them
Depressed is the skin around my ankle when it becomes all too much
Depressed are My bicycle gear levers as I float around Richmond Park like a ghost
Depressed is the right hand click on my i-pod when it isn't singing to me
Depressed are the keys on my phone as I re-set my alarm for my HIV meds
Depressed is the snail that I accidentally crushed outside my bedroom window
Depressed are the little clips that hold in my favorite DVD's in their cases
Depressed is my imagination when I am in pain
Depressed are my senses for three hours after my evening HIV meds
Depressed is the shutter of my camera as it reads you like a book
Depressed are all the lights on our dark and dreary Planet



Jason

P.s. Happy Birthday Evie.....Sorry that your Uncle Jae couldn't be there.







(C) JPT 2007

"The Sandman's Suicide"

My oldest T-shirt (circa 1984)



A sleep filled spasticated dream induced twitch
A lower extremity rape by a witch
Why under my cover of deepness & dark
Why can't I see her face, hear the bitch bark

A sharp intake of air, through enamelled pegs
It's dark, it's cold, the agony, my legs
Eyes shut tight, teeth all but gone
Frozen in place, only roots to hold on

Wrapped around skin & rotting bones
Hand does wander.....sweat to sleep filled moans
Rusty hooked chains hang from ceiling & wall
Eyes wide open, bolt upright I fall

Attached, screwed in, whatever you like
The pain is unbearable, rips out my light
Floor planted for something, anything but this
Please let go of me, this molten kiss

Sleep walk in agony, around the room
Around once more, be gone now......be soon
As my teeth cool down, less shattered, more me
Boiled turned simmer turned cool to see

The witch is in hiding now, cloaked with dagger
Waiting to pounce once more, to watch me stagger
Steal my dreams, turn my sand into stone
Makes a mockery of me, makes my body her home...



Jason






(C) JPT 2007

"Cometh the Butterfly"

Teddington, June 2004.



The sky became heavy, less in their dreams,
The air that they breathe had set solid it seems.
Where once there were clouds all white and bright,
Now replaced by rocks disturbing their flight,
Of freedom & space for your friends of the wing,
Where nothing can fly & be free & sing.
These lands were once rife with the fluttering by,
Of tiny bodies dancing to please your eye,
For their time in the air, these innocent beings,
Have all but died, gasping with meaning,
All before them has decided that black,
Is better for them as they find their way back,
To a land of Love and laughter & smiles,
Colourful, radiant & covered in miles,
Of sky that befriends them & sees them well,
In a blanket of warmth & of fragrance to smell,
To remind them where home is, their living places,
Where tears run happy down over their faces.
A place they are free & unburdened with weight,
An earth with no fences, no locks, no gate.
No rocks to be seen nor sky covered dark,
Where butterflies dance for you, fly free in the park.



Jason






(C) JPT 2007

"The Delicate Art of You More Than Me"

One page out from one book of mine.



As they drag you down to your lead filled knees,
Begging forgiveness.....please....oh....please!
Why you more than me in our hidden red sea,
Why me all alone as I cry for your pity,
For you at your lowest feeling black as coal,
Sucking it's dust from deep in this hole,
Why you more than me, blinded by pain,
Why me all alone, once more, once again,
Not with good, not with calm, no end in sight,
Just moulded in stone, not one grain of light,
Too tired to laugh, not one of you cries,
Not one tear left in those Hep C eyes,
To share just a little, the tiniest part,
Inject you, feed you, just how do I start,
To lead you, hold you, comfort and more,
The start of something less painful & sore,
Why you more than me, stuck in your hell,
Why me all alone, sealed up in my shell,
Too deep down hidden unable to see,
What can be done to answer your plea,
You're lost, You're cold, I'm useless for you,
It's dark in here for us stale few,
It's all I have known, for all of my days,
This pain, this darkness, this blood soaked haze,
Better avoid me, lest you fall,
Into my trap, deeper, darker, room for you all,
Why me more than you I leave you behind,
Why me all alone, lost forever I find,
So close, so warm, so inviting, so near,
I may have time.........not as much as you I fear.



Jason





(C) JPT 2007