Attention Random Internet Reader: I Promise To Rescue You, Should You Find Yourself Damned

hell[1]Attention random internet reader: If there IS a Hell, and you end up stuck in it, I promise that I’ll come down there and rescue you, free of charge <3 Trust this promise and chill the fuck out.

I’ve already assembled a crack squad of saints to back me up in the mission. Believe me when I tell you that these glorified men and women also unconditionally promise to storm the gates of Hell and bust you out of the prison, should you find yourself there. “The gates of Hell will not prevail against the assault of the church” after all!

You’ll have to forgive most of these saints for not being Christian. More than half of them are Mahayana Buddhists, a significant number are Mormons, and many of them are gasp Sufi Muslims. But don’t worry, St Thomas Aquinas and St Augustine are big dogs in the crew too 🙂

I assure you we won’t stop trying so long as there is a single lost soul wandering in the outer darkness. Hitler, Judas and Satan are proving quite difficult to rescue, but we have full confidence that this A-Team of holy men and women will eventually be able to evangelise them back into heaven where they belong.

Also, Holy Saturday is coming up soon too, so the big man himself says he’s gonna come down there and help everyone out. Fuck yeah amirite?

With Love,

-Alex Roberts

The need to be long.

71ge+Y1jsWL._SL1264_[1].jpgJimmy was a giraffe.
The other giraffes weren’t very nice to Jimmy because Jimmy didn’t have a long neck like the rest of them.
They teased Jimmy and called him names, like “Chode”, “Short stuff” and “n00b-neck”.
One day Jimmy was being beaten up by the other giraffes and having a cry, when all of a sudden a redhead appeared from the clouds and descended from heaven, only to immediately return as she had heavenly duties to attend to (God needs his morning paper you know)
Jimmy sniffed and wandered away into the desert, where he ran into Rozencrantz and Frank Einstien personified as some loveable Disney characters.
They all sung a song and danced happily around, frolicking and laughing as they flew off into the sunset.
The other giraffes, seeing as they had long necks, could see everything that was happening and didn’t liked it. They called upon his highness sir Santa Claus and said “Right, see here old chap! We’ve got the accent, you’ve got the power” Santa claus laughed, and his beer-gut wobbled like jelly. “Say no more my good friends”
And so Santa jumped in his humvee and whipped his reindeer until they made a revving noise that sounded sufficiently hardcore. He slammed down the hammer and did a massive burn out while leaning out the window, wacking on some shades and going “Oh yeah
And santa clause was never seen again in that part of the world.
Meanwhile, Jimmy had not been procrastinating, he had been working out. Hard. He returned to the tribe with abs that shone gold, well-hung and with a neck that could split any giraffette in half. The female giraffes loved Jimmy and his neck, Jimmy got some, and everyone lived happily every after.
And whenever Jimmy was asked what was the secret to success he always replied “You gotta be long brother. You gotta be loooooong.”

Alex Herlihy – 2010

Swimming Carnival Bogans

0ff06e0a0bc5340c98d7fa63004f0dcf[1]I sat down at the swimming carnival today
Searching for rangas with the ranga that is Ray
And had fun watching the buff, the bluff and the gay

Laugh at Diow trying to dress up as a doll
Hear “If you can’t swim you’ll be paying me a toll”
Seems that English have the announcements under control

So it’s time to buff up for the tug of war.
Everyone jumps in as the rest of the school snore
“This is so rigged, they can’t even touch the floor!”

We’ve won! It’s the end! Make that two
We have the rope in the shape of a horseshoe
Yet even with both ends we fail to drag it through

Oh great I can’t see, it must be the splashing
The carnival equivilant of a good chest bashing
We want to rub in the fact that we gave them a thrashing

I usually watch and laugh, spy and hide.
But not today, no sitting out; I enjoyed the ride
It’s so strange to be in it rather than off to the side

The Asians have whipped out their magic cards
The canteen still hasn’t started serving lard
And of course, “Dennis! Why are you such a retard?”

Dennis just takes it all with a grin
Oh crap, the tiredness is kicking in
As I throw my first bogan in the bin

I wake up to find chaos and fun
Looks like Randall found himself a gun
I hear someone behind me scream “Run bitch run!”

I turn to find all the black guys laughing
Some small year seven has just been sent flying
A certain teacher wants lunch upon punishment of dying

I sit up to watch the peruvian wave
A random year eleven who’s having a shave
The year seven who fails, but was extremely brave

Davies getting shot in the wrong direction
As Derek displays his pokemon card collection
And Ridley finds cricket at the point of inflexion

The second bogan is getting run down.
As Warrigal recieves the carnival crown
Luckily this year no year sevens drowned.

Alex Herlihy – 2010

Eating a bogan at short break

Eating a bogan
eight minutes at short break
rangas

Alex Herlihy – 2009

Formal

Normanhurst-Boys-High-School[1].jpgWe were Sitting down at lunch one day,
Me and Ba, and Scott and Ray,
Being Happy and merry (But never gay)
Until Shank decided to come our way.

The conversation quickly turns,
To that which makes the stomach churn;
Hot chicks, porno, renticle tape
To make shank stop it, we give him a shake.

“Profanities Shank” loudly proclaims Ba,
“Give it a rest” I say, “You’ve gone too far”
“bIsAmused equals false” guffaws semlar,
And Ray just pretends to play a guitar.

Ba scratches his head and thinks of a topic,
one that is safe and will make shank stop it.
Up until then, everything was normal…
“So who are you guys taking to the formal?”

This quickly got everyone’s attention,
I stayed quiet, as if on detention.
I was interested but it did not show,
Everyone became edgy, ready to blow.

Semlar coughed “Sarah”, we whacked him hard,
“She’s in France, are you a retard?”
Ba says that he wants to ask Alanna
This gets met with “Ba’s gonna be a father!”

Ba hides his face and talks to shank
What did they say? I drew a blank.
I became apprehensive as of then
“Who did you say you are asking again?”

His one word answer, as it sunk into my mind
Sent my heart crazy and put shivers down my spine
The one name that I did not want to hear
“Nicole” said shank, confirming my worst fear.

She was the only girl that I wanted to take
And now she’s about to be stolen by Shank.
The gears in my head started to revolve
A plan was formed and I was resolved.

Shank will NOT be stealing my redhead;
He will be taking someone else instead.
This occupied me for the rest of the day
Shank had become my enemy in a way.

As I looked at my options I exclaimed “damn”
I didn’t know whether it would go to plan
But I was possesed and my fingers would shake
In such a frenzy I made a fatal mistake

One email that I don’t want to recall
I was putting too much faith in it all.
With butterflies in stomach, excitement, nervous,
I pushed “send” and the words did their service

I had no idea that I was already dead,
So I felt better then ever as I climbed into bed.
I had to make certain that shank didn’t ask,
His real words are superior to an email from my arse.

The next day was friday, both a blessing and a curse.
After school was youth group at Ba’s Christian church.
This meant I could ask her for real
Shank could too; so it was not ideal

I had a sense of “Carpe Diem”, Sieze the day!
On top of the world? I was feeling this way.
But behind it all there was a sense of betrayal:
No matter what, one of us is going to fail.

For the first time I could see what paths lay before me
Extreme jealousy or sweet victory, which was it to be?
I was determined to see this through
“Damn you Shank, this is all because of you!”

And so there we we’re on friday night
Soccer in the park; it was a vicious fight.
Does shank suspect why I am here?
If he does then I must fear:

If Shank Knows my thoughts then he’ll be using all speed
He will pounce on Nicole like one full of greed.
But if he doesn’t know my plan he will take his time,
Wondering how to word himself, while I make a beeline.

Either way the race is on, for I will not be waiting long.
Besides I’m wearing sneakers, I can’t lose to his thongs.
For Nicole I begin to search around,
I covered quite a lot of ground.

But what is this? I can not find,
the thing that has plagued my mind.
Where on earth could Nicole be?
Surely she can’t be hiding from me.

The night dragged on and it became clear:
Nicole was not going to be coming here.
I was disappointed until I saw the truth
More time to practice not sounding like a goof.

I withdrew from my thoughts and looked around
There was Ba and at Shank he frowned.
Shank had no idea that he was spoiling Ba’s chance
For Ba to man up and ask Alanna to this dance.

I laughed and let the night take me away
The stress was gone until another day.
And so I had a lot of fun
Before I knew it, the night was done.

I woke up and it was saturday
I felt good but the sky was grey
This was a bad omen that I ignored
I had slept so well! I never even yawned

I turn on the computer, I let it load
I waited and waited until the windows logo showed.
I decided to check email but I had totally forgot,
That email of doom that I should have let rot.

I had new messages but none from Nicole
But I didn’t worry. Today won’t be droll.
So I let the morning go flying away,
Before I knew it, it was the end of the day.

Once again I returned to my email
To find a reply from a certain female.
And there it was waiting for me;
The reply of success, surely.

My heart was beating, I didn’t dare
To read that which was written there.
My hand hesitated for I could not bare,
A reply that causes me to tear out my hair.

But then I decide to take the plunge
This sweat making me as wet as a sponge.
I opened the email that decided fate
No more delay. I could not wait.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t go”
This can not be! No no NO!
“I’m sorry, but I can’t go…with you”
No…After what I’ve been through…

The world had ended, Shank had won
I had failed, the game was done.
Silent tears flowed as I retreated to bed
Sadness was swept up into dreams instead

I woke up feeling depressed the next day
I couldn’t believe that it had happened this way.
But I would not go down like this,
I must stop Shank, make him miss.

I come to school, Shank says “Wassup!”
“What a bummer that she didn’t turn up!”
At recess I find Ba talking to Shank
The subject, “Revenge” and some stuff about tanks.

Ba says that the Bible condones vengence
“How ironic, that means I won’t pay repentance”
“Only if the punishment fits the crime”
“Perfect. You know, that sounds just fine”

So I vowed to stay close to Shank, never give him a chance
To ask Nicole to the formal, they would never dance.
To me it seemed an eye for an eye
I couldn’t forsee how this plan died

And so it was Friday night once more.
We were in a church with leaky walls.
This time Nicole did indeed show
What Shank was thinking we could only know.

An awkward triangle we three made
In a river of emotion I did wade
While Shank stood silent trying to think
And eventually, Nicole ran off to get a drink.

Shank stayed away from her for most of the night
I relaxed and watched some bogans fight.
The next thing I know Shank has disappeared
But before I could swear I saw what I feared.

Shank had a look of confidence on his face
As he turned round the corner I was frozen in place
But what came next was not expected
Shank looked strangely affected

He rounded the corner looking resolved
but as he came back the look had dissolved
From within came an exclamation of glee:
“She didn’t pick him and she didn’t pick me!”

To me it came as a great victory
Shank tried to take it happily
His poker face hid what emotion he felt
He eyed me off till my face almost melt.

He was thinking the same as me
“My ranga was stolen by Herlihy”
I laughed and told him of my fail
He seemed to be turning pale.

My thoughts turned inward, as they do
And I got thinking about things undue
This was not a victory at all,
Oh boy did I just drop the ball

Revenge is a dish best served cold.
That’s what I have always been told.
So of course it came as no suprise
When all of a sudden, I realised:

Nicole would not be at our formal
With me or Shank or someone normal.
I couldn’t help feeling that it was all my fault
I should have locked my hard feelings in a vault

I was blind. Look what I’ve done.
Oh sad consequences of my fun.
As I dealt with reality
It finally sunk into me

This formal is more trouble then it’s worth
Time to get more down to earth.
And so I chose to forget these incidents
I did not want to remember, the memory was rinsed

And so I forgot, I could not recall
Until another email brought me back to it all.
Ba gives the facts as blunt as a plank
“Nicole wanted to say yes to Shank.”

Ba haven’t you heard that ignorance is bliss?
Why oh why did you have to tell me this?
I demand that you now let me know
From where this information flows

But Ba is silent, he does not say
Why these tidings came my way
So I leave the mystery unsolved
And once again the memories dissolved

The formal it did come and go
And I did not toss to and fro
I just came and had some fun
Before I knew it, the night was done.

On the bus I sat with Shank
We talked of all things rank
Hot chicks, porno, renticle tape
But I didn’t stop it, It was too late.

Shank was not an enemy then
“I still wish you asked Nicole again,
Even though we had such fun,
I still wish that she had come”

I hear a sigh, he gathers breath
I’m so tired I feel like death
“We’re still learners” is the last thing he said
But I still wish that I had my redhead.

I haven’t seen Shank since then,
And I have taken to the pen
“We’re still learners” lingers in sight
With that in mind I kiss the Formal good night

I finally can let it go
No more of this horrible show
Months have passed since I last cried.
To the formal, a big “Good bye!”

But no, I had a dream last night
You see, it gave me quite a fright
Not because it was a nightmare
But for what was contained in there:

The formal again, I’m back on the boat
With Ba, Alanna and a red goat.
But there is one I was not expecting to see
Nicole! And she is coming towards me.

But before I can say “This must be a dream”
There appears Shank, his smile like a beam.
Hands clasped firmly with Nicoles, I was enraged at the sight
Such a fury that I woke myself up in the middle of the night.

I do not know what this dream meant
But one thing I know as hard as cement:
This formal will not close it’s door
It will plague my mind forever more.

Alex Herlihy – 2008

The Five States of Troll

  1. Sleeping

This state of troll includes troll being asleep and it also includes troll being Awake, because when we are talking about troll, they are practically the same thing.

Rule of troll #1: His eyes are ALWAYS closed. NO exceptions.

Trolls eyes are always closed, forcing him in to a state of permeant slumber. As a result he can’t tell the difference between his dreams and reality. Keep this in mind when interacting with troll and be on guard: There is a high probability that he will mistake you for a mate if you don’t choose your words carefully.

  1. Eating/searching for food

Rule of troll #2: He is always hungry

50% of troll’s schedule is devoted to this stage. For troll, a constant stream of food is vital: Without this food, he will revert to a feral, demonic, beastlike form which consumes everything in sight and has a million penises that ejaculate rainbow coloured plasma which gives aids to anyone it touches. Thus is the essence of state 5, which will be discussed in detail later.

So don’t forget: if ever troll stomps up and demands to see your lunch money, you’d better do it, or you could find yourself suffering a fate much MUCH worse then extortion by troll. Just be happy that he doesn’t eat humans any more – he likes to keep a healthy diet.

  1. Teh secks

This stage encompasses the following: Troll dancing, Troll sex and the Troll mating ritual. Watching troll dance is one of those “Must do it before you die!” things. Essentially, this state of troll involves him putting his “moves” on display, often with extremely dangerous, intensely painful and totally hilarious results.

Troll sex is not exactly troll “sex”. It could be better described as Troll demonstrating his method of penetrating three females at once. Of course the traditional habitat of troll is a boy’s high school, so finding suitable females for the demonstration is quite hard and if isn’t hard then it is most certainly illegal. With no females, troll will proceed to have intercourse with thin air. This provokes reactions such as “Oh Diooooooowwwww!”, “WTF are you doing troll?”, “You stupid, fat ugly troll”, “Keep it in your pants!”, “Oi! You don’t fuck with me!”, “WTF are you doing Semlar?”, “STFU Warna you’re a girl!”, “Oh yeah! Kodsi!”, “Shut up Lemar!”, “That’s what she said!”, “Sssooowwwttaaaaaaaaaa!!!”, “Do I need to call the principal to handle this blatant disregard of the school rules?!?” etc etc etc.

The troll mating ritual is pretty much the same as above, except that it can involve more then three females and has a hell of a lot more variety in the thrusting department. Who would have thought that a rock could move that fast!

  1. Getting beaten up

This is a routine exercise for troll. A day can’t be called a day until troll gets beaten up. If a day goes by without troll getting beaten up at least once, you must have been dreaming. This state most often follows state 3. Troll will attempt to dance and everyone will be horrified and proceed to beat up troll to make him stop it. It is really hard to get a rock to dance; therefore it must be even harder to get a rock to stop dancing. Beating troll up seems to be the only method and it has proven to be the most effective method to date. Maybe getting beaten up is like a backrub for trolls….He certainly seems to enjoy this state: once I could swear I heard him snoring, but it’s hard to tell because his eyes are always closed.

  1. Beast mode

This state of troll is one of those “If you know what it is then you are already dead” kind of things. This state can only be observed if troll is not permitted to eat for 1 hour straight. Doing this is a sure way to get yourself killed and it will result in torn up underwear all over the globe. You can also observe normal people in this state when they are participating in sport. Going beast mode is what some athletes strive to achieve, some actually do! But we don’t hear about them because they get deported to mars. Troll should be kept under close observation whenever he is participating in sporting activities. You never know when that call to the zoo’s “Uncontrollable animal’s team” might be necessary……

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Troll is in a state of permanent slumber
His eyes remain shut, through lightning and thunder.
The only time he will ever try to wake
Is when he senses a potential mate.

When Troll is asleep then troll is awake
His eyes will never open unless he smells cake.
This side of Troll is not very fun
Because sleeping is the essence of state number one.

Troll is always hungry, he can’t get enough food
If he demands your lunch money you’d best not be rude.
For refusal means a fate worse then extortion by Troll
No one enjoys getting raped; quick, give him some dole.

If Troll is not kept extremely well-fed
He may go beast mode and rough you up in bed.
Run away very fast if Troll points at you
Eating is the energy that fuels state number two.

What part of state three is the most pitiful?
Troll dancing, Troll sex and the Troll mating ritual.
By the way sex is the creation of life have you heard?
It also plays a big part in state of Troll, the third.

Watching Troll dance is torture most foul
His dancing must be met with loud cries of “Diow!”
Whenever Troll threatens to put his moves on display
Be fast and beat him up; don’t let him get away.

It is extremely hard to get a rock to dance
It’s even harder to bash one into a trance.
But don’t give up, it must be done,
If Troll won’t stop dancing then resort to a gun.

A day’s not a day until Troll’s beaten up
To Troll it’s a backrub welcomed with “Yay!” and “Wassup!”
So have no fear, this thing doesn’t roar
Bashing up Troll is welcome in state part four.

The final state? Please something else instead!
If you know what it is you are already dead.
Beast mode is the price that Troll must pay
If he does not eat at all for one whole day.

Keep an eye on troll when he participates in sport,
If he starts to foam at the mouth hold up inside a fort.
Troll becomes hard to kill; he’s said to have nine lives
Make sure to protect yourself; beware of state number five.

Now that you have read all this crap
You should know how to set a Troll trap.
So whenever you’re finding school to be droll
Just have a quick chuckle at the five states of Troll.

Alex Herlihy – 2008

Eating a Bogan at Recess

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It’s always funny to stand back and see
The many strange kinds of personality
That grace our playground at morning tea.

We sit down at recess Ray and I
Laugh our heads off at troll’s always-closed eye
And point at the randoms walking by.

Faz struts around with his shiny shoes
Geo says “CBF” and goes to have a snooze
Isaac gets full marks again: it’s not uncommon news.

And look there’s Popa thrusting his stuff
He feels the need to try and look buff
But cause he acts gay he never appears tough.

There’s also Yutaro banging his head
Though Benco or Nuno may be doing it instead
They are playing with an invisible guitar thread.

Then we hear some “fuck” and a little “shit”
“Wei you bastard! You’ll never get hit”
One of those black guys is pissed off a bit.

Oh no here comes Josh cause the chick isn’t fat
“Yo motherfuckers I’d tap it like that”
“What are you kidding this bitch is chat!”

Of course what follows fills me with glee
“Hey you don’t wanna fuck with me”
To which Lemar replies “Oh yeah Kodsi!”

Then there comes a nice little bash
“Boganing” we call it and it’s a real smash
Chests are extended and two bodies mash.

But attention is stolen and drawn to a shape
It appears to be Faz suffering Nuno rape
Muscles are squeezed while wenises drape.

Oh no, the fun’s over, I think I hear the bell
The divine influence that puts an end to this hell
It takes me to maths, to learn about cricket being parallel.

But before I leave I look back and see
That there are many weird kinds of personality
And they regularly grace our playground at morning tea.

Alex Herlihy – 2008

Rangas and Redheads

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Some people think that it’s bad to be a ranga,
I say such people should be hit with a hammer.

Where would we be if there were no redheads around?
Well for one Ironman would lie dead on the ground;

For who had the power to steal this hero’s heart?
A ranga of course, and she was skilled in her art.

She was Beautiful,

but Iron’s not the only one with a good taste in heads;
Just look at the girl Spiderman keeps among his friends.

Now put these love interests of superheroes to the side,
Rangas can easily hold their own against a villains pride.

Redheads are made of special stuff that no-one understands,
Scientists are confounded by the power a ranga commands.

With mind control and telepathy, they can easily bend a spoon.
Never argue with a mad ranga; It will surely spell your doom.

Oh those Deadly,

lovely, redheads…They must have evolved from an angel,
Hell they even have their own element on the periodic table!

Remember the Fifth element? The one? The divine light?
When asked to describe her, “perfect” seems quite right.

She was a well-read-red-head, of the highest degree,
Not to forget that she knew another language or three.

She was beyond awesome, she could light up a room.
Cutting through shadows with hair as bright as the moon.

For a Bright,

blinding light shines from a readhead’s skull. It stops fears,
defeats darkness and reduces the strongest of evils to tears.

Everyone knows redheads are the definition of “hot”.
One look at a ranga and you’re drooling on the spot.

So do you believe that it’s bad to be a ranga?
If you answered “yes” then you’ll be smacked with a spanner.
For you would never understand this questions correct answer.

And what is the answer?

Redheads;

Bright,

Beautiful,

Deadly.

Alex Herlihy – 2008

Bright, Beautiful, Deadly

Sunrise

SCIENCE-Meteors-070198zz66[1]Every morning is the same; wake up before the sun, skip breakfast, race the rays of sunlight down from the highest point in Sydney to the lowest lane for the bus stop. Board the bus, watch the people, watch the window, see past the glass to the wonderful world. Repress the thought that there’s yet another English assessment task that is worth no marks begging to be done. One hour later arrive at the train station. Hop on a train, take another hour, and arrive at school. Rinse and repeat!

Today was different. There were no new faces on the bus, the sky was grey but without any rain to keep things interesting, and there was a thick fog obfuscating what would have been a glorious view outside. I found myself longing for a new face to pick to pieces, but not just any face; I had a very particular sort of person in mind. Someone who radiates magic; a person who overwhelms both man and woman with infinite beauty; the one who can redefine osmosis with a meaning that is more fitting of a word that sounds so good.

This train of thought was interrupted by a loud expletive from the driver as the bus suddenly came screeching to a halt. It was as if someone had hailed the bus right as it would run them over in order to save their own life. The doors opened, and I could see nothing through the fog seeping into the bus between the cold metal doors. Excitement filled my mind as I wondered who it could be. As the silhouette of this newcomer drew closer towards my seat, my electrified anticipation flew higher than I thought possible in this temperature. Out of the fog, appeared none other than that amazing person that had occupied my minds eye ten seconds before; the most beautiful, the most wonderful, the most graceful, glorious and gentle person on this planet; The absolute zenith of humanity; An angel trapped in mortal clothing; The light that can start and end all wars; The greatest of gods people; a sublimated form of god himself! The very reason life exists at all; the meaning of life!

Out of the fog stepped none other than a Redhead.

The doors closed and the bus lurched as it prepared to attack the steep hill with its’ wheels once again. The sudden jerk caused the beautiful angel before me to stumble slightly, and yet even in this imperfection was there embodied a sort of cosmic correctness that brushed aside any thought of corruption. Her beautiful eyes swept the seats, searching for a place to sit herself. There were hundreds, thousands of seats she could have picked, and yet by some strange stroke of fate she chose the seat, opposite and facing, me. Blood rushed through my whole body as I blushed a blush that could not be blushed for anyone else; a blush that set my whole face red, extended itself to my neck, and didn’t stop there. Soon my arms and fingertips had turned a bright bright red and begun to melt the ice which was coating the window on which they lay. My toes began to burn and steam quite visibly began to rise from my feet. The blush continued consuming my body, and finding that it could do no more there, begun to seep out onto the floor of the bus; creeping up to the other passengers and setting them in a hot flush as well. Suddenly my whole body burst into flames, the bus flew off the edge of a cliff, the other passengers on the bus melted into a void, and right as a mushroom cloud was beginning to appear on the hyperbolic horizon; the redheaded Goddess sat down.
The other passengers were still sleeping, despite the bus blowing its’ horn at some slow cyclists who were getting in the way more than the fog, and despite the presence in the bus of the very reason they walk in this world. I frowned at them all; stereotyping themselves and the whole world with no shame. It is a sad thing indeed when the entrance of a redhead is not met with immediate awe, respect and praise. But unfortunately, this is how the world stands. The world rejects their true kings and queens, labelling them gingers. Outcasts. Outsiders… How horrible, that the most godlike, angelic figures in all time and space must meet with such mad manners. Even now; in shops all around the globe, Dominant pants are being chosen over red denim, those most recessive of jeans. The red gene is reason for respect not racism! But no, society would call it a curse to be blessed with such beauty. They give the gift many names; Gingeritis; “You Fucking Ranga”; The curse of the outsider. How could this picture of pure beauty before me be treated so? What could this visual elegy of elegance have done wrong to deserve it? How could she do wrong at all! What a piece of work is a Redhead; how noble in reason, how infinite in faculty; in form and moving, how express and admirable; in action how like an angel; in apprehension… How like a God!

istockphoto-642266374-612x612[1].jpgThe only thing “Outsider” about the praeclarus girl facing me was that she had been outside too long, in the cold cold icy cold air, and was shivering. Shivering and shaking. Shaking her hair; Her long, silky smooth, burning hair running down past her neck and wrapping her body in a waterfall of warmth, casting off the shivering shell and kicking it to the side so that she could sit still, safe, and content; wrapped in the warmth of her own magic. I could not draw my eyes away from her, no, and neither could I restrain my ears! She sighed a sigh that sent shivers down my spine with such intensity that I could hear it cracking under the stress, the sound almost interrupting this ethereal music washing over my senses. It was as if she could simply pluck music out of the air without aid of pipe or wind, and with a mere breath set the elements to movements of chromatic harmony. Oh her breathing! The perfect, regular, waves of warmth carried with them a tale of a body that knows no sickness and is immune to all injury. So overwhelmingly powerful was her influence on my sense of sound that even my nose and tongue could detect her perfection in the air. My olfactory system exploded with sensation; she was the thirteenth essence! You would have to distil all the roses in the world to even come close to imitating how wonderfully this was received in my nose. Her scent was more precious than the most expensive perfume; with it came memories of all the most wonderful, happy, exciting, sad, victorious and unfortunate events in my life. All these moments came back to me and played out again, as if I were looking into the past, looking into the very crux of my identity, peering through a window to my immortal soul. I was reminded of what it meant to be human. The images dissolved into fireworks and stars, and glittering, shimmering, glowing red hair as my eyes opened and returned to the present. Reflected in her eyes was absolute infinity, those beautiful blue orbs; the two blue planets beneath the red curtain that align on the truth – but I could have sworn they were green not two seconds ago, and now they are a grand Hazel! Magical eyes of innocence, infinity, intelligence… and ignorance; From the eyes of everything, I wanted nothing. I only needed a single image, and it was sitting before me already.

Her long, slender legs were unbruised and smooth; showing no sign of being spoilt by worldly action. Her arms glowing with the power held within, her lips wearing a smile that could melt the hearts of a whole nation. Her perfectly rounded thighs put to shame the most well-crafted sculpture; an artist could spend his whole life trying to emulate those thighs and never come close. Her breasts needed no support, they were as light as air, unfreckled, smooth, bright, beautiful! Oh, what would I give to run a finger across those sacred domes, down to her luscious legs, up to stroke her gentle face, and then to engulf my hand, my arm, my whole body in that hair! Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful! Bright. Beautiful. Deadly. Bright, Beautiful, Deadly. Bright Beautiful Deadly. BrightBeautifulDeadly. BrightBeautifulDeadlyBrightBeautifulDeadlyBrightBeautifulDeadly…..

I sat there, under the full effect of this redheads magic; this angels enchantment; this outsiders curse. My freedom lost to beauty. Fair tresses man’s imperial race ensnare, and beauty draws us with a single red hair.

6383085293_49e1ea99f9_b[1].jpgThe bus stopped again. My redhead rose, and with hair shining brighter than a thousand stars, did exit and return to the outside world, the fog parting before her and joining behind her with every step. The three word poem “Bright. Beautiful. Deadly.” repeated over and over in my head. As she moved further away the spell she had cast over me grew weaker and weaker until finally… I woke up. Suddenly I felt cold again. The bus was still covered in frost, the passengers were still sleeping, there was still no light. I yawned and peered outside the window, my eyes winking away tiredness. I searched for the redhead, hoping that I could fill myself with warmth for a second longer. I searched and searched; stretching my sight to the heavens, but I couldn’t find her. Over the water I could see the sun rising, a semicircle of orange beauty. Bright, Beautiful, Deadly indeed. Some of the other passengers opened half an eyelid and briefly joined me in lending their gaze to the horizon. The soul of our solar system sparkled bright, but not so bright that it would force a wince of pain and my turning away; Dawn is the hour to appreciate our majestic sun. I heard a snore behind me and turned around. Everyone had returned to sleep but me. I sighed and for the final time glanced out the window at nature’s light show, smiling as I noticed a familiar face on the horizon.

Alex Herlihy – 2010