Monday, 21 November 2011

If you'd really like to know, he went that way.

Fade out, fade out,
We only let it begin
And this is not the end,
As I fade out, leaving only the grin;
The romeraths' outgrabe... It starts again,
Just a tabby, moggy, mut,
You go whichever way
I prefer the short-cut.
Can you stand on your head?
Come child, you look unwell,
And entirely not yourself,
Lets get you off to bed;
Or should that be
Off with her head!
One tends to say and forget
What one, in the first place said,
Or who am I or who is you,
I wouldn't trust that Cat,
Try the March hare or the man in the hat;
Of course, they're mad too,
Calloo, callay, come run away,
It doesn't matter what you do,
It really doesn't matter which way you go,
When both ways go
Where you want to get to.
Smile and begin to disappear,
Drink this bottle, feel ever so queer;
Not so good for your height
But it wont harm your health;
Oh, you can't help that.
You may have noticed
That I'm not all there myself.

Saturday, 19 November 2011

Dawn Hedgehog

Along the borders edge
Amongst the prying eyes of dawn,
You scurry as fast as you can:
One last forage before the dangers come,
That come with each coming morn.

Your innocent face and cute complexion
Hide what a beast you are.
On a daily basis you fight for survival
And risk death from animal, man, car!
You defend yourself from monsters
With your thorny Testudo,
Fifty-times your size and yet you still get through though;
The safety of the night and the deep dank bushes
Is what you love, and all you know,
An expert in concealment
We wont see you through the day
And no matter when we search
We never find your place;
I sit here now and watch the dog,
Hackles up, yet you stare her straight in the face,
Fearless and knowing,
Stuffed fat with slugs and bugs
Your still small and for winter growing,
You know man's evil and still terror at my arrival
You start showing, this day is too dangerous;
I sit and the dog sits
As we watch you leave,
Wherever you are going.

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

The Title Matters Just As Much

What life is this
That money is the root of all evil,
Or so they say; and yet no one stops talking about it,
Are they trying to take the piss.

What life is this
That a person can fall in love so deep,
If love truly exists; and still for love they can't make sacrifice,
But from love the other they want to keep.

What life is this
That when life gets cold and hard,
And might only get worse, we don't strengthen or come together,
We grow soft and wet like a castle made of card.

What life is this
And what have I done so wrong,
In the forest I can see it in the terrified does eyes;
That they knew all along.

What life is this
That our memories are captured on T.V. and film,
What happened to stories, tales and family;
To peoples histories hand built and baked in life's kiln.

What life is this, what life is this,
I don't really care,
I'm a snake alone in the desert, making a gentle hiss;
Or just another person taking the piss.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

To Uncle

A great man you were
From the moment we first met,
A subtle and intriguing genius
You kept a piece of every person you met.

Sunday lunches at my fathers,
Sunday morning papers and a bacon sandwich;
The final weeks bringing smiles to everyone
As your mind and body did languish;

We know you fought with all your might
For your self, family, and those that care,
We accept that God's judgement is always right
I can look to the sky and see you there

Laughing and joking with those who've left,
Back to your valiant Spartan prime
Happy by your life, we cannot be bereft,
And for us all its just a matter of time;

So we sing, remember, and teach
Of all you were and all you be,
We shall give you unstoppable reach
To keep touching the hearts of everyone who be.

Past Heaven's gates forever and a day
To sit between peace and joy,
To Heaven's angels we sit and pray
For the innocent ecstasies of a cherub boy;

Let them protect you from all evil,
Let them set your soul free,
All life's mysteries, let them all reveal;
And great man of Heaven, as on Earth, you shall now forever be.

Seeing Into A Dream You Don't Remember

I drink away all time,
Falling into the pit devoid of regret,
Remorse, nothing in this haze
Having long late nights
And laboriously long lazy days;
I waste this space with smiles,
Long laughing jokes, double entendre,
And immature imitation bush tucker trials,
Missing out on this field of life
Endless fields for miles and miles;
Missing out on a life so warm
A life so cosy,
I drink away all time
At the end of time will be
A sad apricot of a man, yellowing
With two cheeks and a nose so rosy.

Girl With The Raven Hair

Girl with the raven hair.

In the bleak belch of time,
Your innocence was so sweet,
Your raven hair
A flower among the weeds,
On that cold snowy night
On the bank by the sea,
Where we did first meet.

Girl with the raven hair;

Your figure cut
A sick hole in my world.
Raven hairs on white brilliant baths,
On floors, in beds:
Our trysting love
Love hushed, hushed moans
From behind closed doors.

Girl with the raven hair.

The black strands
Strings of poison
Tie a noose around my neck,
Kill everything
And all is no more;
But still the raven hair cuts
Skin and holds breath,
Keeps me lashed
To words spoken in bedrooms
Bedrooms behind the door.

Raven haired girl,
Raven hair
Pollute my mind forevermore.

Thursday, 10 November 2011

When The Knell Begins To Toll (Hurry)

Give everything you got,
I'll take the lot, Mr. Sandman,
Grandfather, empty that clock,
I'm running out of time,
I need more, I've still got it all,
This hill, ladder, wall,
I've still got so much to climb;
But I guess I'm all out,
I'm just too late,
No chance to finish off,
No hope to replete;
Let's just wait here in silence;
I accept defeat.

To The Person Two Feet In Front

Your two feet walk the pavement,
Half the pace of my two feet; we never meet
As your two feet turn right
And my two feet don't.
We never meet, as you disappear
A bin lorry stops in the street,
Letting me pass
With gratitude I greet,
As another set of feet tread peddles,
In his fine bin-lorry shell, roaming the street.
Altogether we are alone.
One lonely car, van, man,
Figure; silent
In summer sun, spring rain;
Autumn grey or winter sleet.
We never meet,
No, nothing as we greet,
Just listening to the melody,
The harmony
Wheels on the street,
The dance of our two feet.


Take a breath and look, simple fool,
You don't have a clue what zoo your in,
Or what animals' cage you just shook.

I'm glad to say your safe, simple fool,
For time they wouldn't waste on you,
No matter what you say, no matter what you do.

Try holding your tongue a moment,
Use your brain first, simple fool; your disenchanting rant,
A scattered mass of yarn slipping off a spool.

No one really cares what your saying,
Your a couple of laughs in the evening,
Simple fool, join in; 'I am glad that your leaving'.

Let this be a lesson, simple fool, of a stranger's flattering kiss,
It does not mean you sleep together, it doesn't mean there yours;
You can't always get your way and you should never take the piss.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

The Pain I See In Innocence

You curl there like infinity,
Your head hidden beneath
Any bit of you you can stretch that far,
Hiding from the ensuing day;
In the quiet bustle of the morning rush
You can listen, drink it all in:
Hiding from you ennui day.
A hours trip outside, the rest of the day
A ghost, in the company of an old man,
In the silence of his ageing pride;
You lie there in your little ball
Making what you can and when,
Half asleep, only alive to the listening;
The long walks we take, a new face in the house,
Long grooming strokes; O the joys
To see your heart beat and you eyes start glistening.

I look at you and cry, sweet innocence,
That your years are short and empty,
My spirit breaks each time I leave:
I dream of changing my mind,
Love is never something life can truly ever fully...
We just don't have time to perceive.

Soon I shall be gone, sweet innocence,
I may see your angel face no more;
My tears start every time I leave,
To every time I return,
Through your worlds-end door.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

The Autumn Dusk

The grey wash fog sits,
Like cotton-wool, languid
Upon the conifer's green surf,
Twinkling like a rush hour star
To the blind, deaf, and dumb.

The nip of unloved hearts sting,
Flesh red raw, lingering
In the treacle blood trail,
Oozing over skin to every open door,
Saturating everything in deathly silence.

The damp rag of earth underfoot,
Like the soft pillow, wet
With a widow's first night alone,
Deeply dark, leaving dank footprints
To all who come her way.

The candle-light, and the car-light,
Silently disagreeable in a time
Of neither night nor day,
Lost and floating in a cloud,
All that was solid has been lost.

The stark unfinished collage,
Like ideas on a white-washed wall,
Of bricks, mortar, flesh and bone,
Capillarous hairs stretch out across the void:
Blood on porcelain, heading for the plug.

The envious sick is all that survives
The drain, like the untying of a balloon,
Slowly, all shades of grey and off-white
Are dragged away, as the table cloth
From all that exists, leaving only the night.

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Your Last Meal

I thought you just a too tight sock,
Or a pain from where I did tire;
Yet when I had stripped and into bed,
The pain became somewhat dire.

I threw off the blanket with great haste,
I fumbled about for the fire;
With the lamp lit I finally saw,
What did make me hie and gyre.

I looked down in the light and there you were,
My little deer tick vampire

Spiel Off (A hundred Pocket Sonnets)

You can say you love, and
You can claim you love, it doesn't matter
Its lost all meaning,
Its never any good;
You love and you love,
And its never what you should;
Learn romance:
Don't push weights,
We all know what happens to the stud!
Your hunting wabbits, be a bunny,
Don't be Elmer Fudd,
Don't say I love.

Show it in your eyes,
In the way you say hello;
Learn to sit and wait
For more than the length of just one date,
You owe it to yourself,
And only you can tell,
It grows from what you do,
Not just because you can say,
I love you. I love you too.

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

As I Suck The Blood From Between My Teeth And Gums

In the bleak black night I search for the faces,
And listen for those noises;
I wait for them to get closer,
Until it is too late to escape,
Hiding my eyes I scare myself,
Thinking of all those stories that I once read;
Murderers, rapists, the sadistic unstoppable un-dead.
They never come, I'm not in a hurry,
I can wait for my bloodied last gasp,
My last agonising scream cut short in the flurry;
Steel, blades, metal; stricken flesh and bone,
I feel this, I can taste the iron in my mouth:
The smile that lights my face with fire,
I gulp the saliva down, it lets out a chortle;
I bite my lip and tongue and think,
Of all the times I've pressed the point,
Of the double bevel, thinking,
Once you break the skin,
You roll the snowball down that hill,
Once you break the skin,
You might as well just kill;
But I bide my time, I ferment myself,
Like the perennial bigos stew,
Floating on the effervescence
Of this playful little ruse.
I cogitate in bed, my mind begins to creep,
It poses the questions, that I dream
The answers to, in my sleep.
I could act at any moment,
And I've nearly let it slip;
But I shall tarry my time,
I shall play my part, along this merry trip;
They think they have the best of me,
I'm not the captain of the ship,
But I stand by the anchor,
And I'm poised, ready to let rip:
You either float along in the river,
And take what comes your way;
Or you hold on to the rock, you swim and swim and swim,
And you pray and pray and pray;
Yet you pray to empty idols, those that never answer,
The scriptures in their names only
Infect us like a cancer;
Why live and die in a name, or a face,
That you cannot read or see,
The only god to believe, that true trinity,
Is what we all think, see and feel;
My doppelganger, my environment, and their tool,
Their tool which is me.
I am their blade, I provide with what they need,
I kill their prey, I cut their food,
I protect them from the night,
And when our time is spent, I
Shall cut out the eyes,
I shall turn out the light.
I am the bloodied sword of self-justice,
The pen-knife of the wise;
I am the spearhead of protection,
The dagger of one's guise.
We live and die alone, trapped within ourselves,
We climb out of the pit we are born,
With rocks to help and hold,
Sand that pulls us down, and for a purpose,
Stories to be told.
Let me tell you a story, before I begin to forget,
Before I become too old.
This is the story of a man,
That knew what life was for;
Now he knew it was all interlinked,
The priest, with the worms,
The eagle and the whore;
But like the amoeba, man,
The wood that makes the door;
That you hide your thoughts behind,
Thoughts that everyone has had before;
His life had little purpose,
From everything he read, to everything he saw,
And everyday he would awake, after he had seen,
The very same postulate, in his nightly dream;
What is this life and what is my goal,
I see no spirit, and I see no soul;
So he sat around and pondered, on what it all might be,
And he came to the decision, he would see
What he couldn't see;
He put his plan into action, all provisions in place,
What was necessary.
He came out on top, learnt what he knew;
Life is just for living, there is nothing special to it,
Ask the animals, they will say its true;
You do what you have to, to get what you want to.
Now this man lives his life, knowing
That we can never know,
But no matter what happens, it is all part of the show;
So I push this blade against my neck,
And feel my pulse slip back, I laugh,
Just imagine if I began to hack.
We have it all to experience and everything is fun,
To hold a woman in your arms,
To hold a woman in her thoughts,
To hold a loaded gun;
We load one bullet, pass it around;
Welcome to our new game-show,
When I am gone, turn to the next contestants,
And tell them;
Either you, or I, or both, must go.
Live your life, like I have mine,
Like no one else I see,
Take with you everything and make it,
Everything you be,
Carry no bags, and carry no water,
Just you follow me,
And when the time is right,
I will eat you and you can eat me;
And we can laugh as we die,
And throw empty curses to the sky,
Laugh at the thought of those who cry;
I couldn't even if I was to try;
Don't ever frown don't ever sigh,
Unless you have a good reason why;
Listen and watch, don't ever pry,
Use the power of a lie;
But never forget to enjoy,
That most perfect moment in life:
When you live, love, hurt, laugh, kill, cry,
Fail, lose,
And most importantly, when you die.

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

I'm In Joyce's Portal

It was a bit of genius right there,
To some, might be your angel name,
But to Wordsworth you were always Luke;
A bit of shit, from the same dog, on that very same tyre,
And it isn't fluke, you threw me the ball,
You saved me
Shaving away at this square peg;
She would never have helped, held up,
Even a tent of a home.
Take it back, to where you lost it all,
I know why,
But no-one else can see, the selfish,
And their world of the over-exposed;
Take it back,
It doesn't matter, whose glove is she:
One size fits all,
I may be capricious,
It fitted well with her crotchety;
Whomsoever be the revolutionary,
Tomorrow, we will wait and see:
Manana, I can see; but what was it
Santayana said about history.