I am back now where I want to be
Lord I can die easy
As long as you bury me
In this peaty realm
I’ll become a peat man
Preserved
Just like we observed
In the museum
They dug him up
Like a timber
I remember
The juices of the earth
Were his blood
The memories
Of geological time of birth
Of his mother back in Mr’s Noah’s flood
What of his love in the distant past
What of his family and friends
Who knew this brother of the black mud
And who knew of his final end?
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
love robs the robin red breast
Love robs the robin of his breast
Love tears the heart out of the nest
Love robs the robin of his red breast
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
When the sun goes down
You've got nothing to say
You've got too many aches
And pains from the day
When the sun goes down
You've gotta rest your brain
It ain't no use in thinking
When the sun goes down
When the sun goes down
There are too many ends
Left loose, going round the bend
When the sun goes down
You've gotta make your bed
You've gotta put your
Weary feet up and rest your
weary head
You gotta make like the chickens
And roost in the coop
When the sun goes down
Get out of the loop
When the sun goes down
You've gotta rest your tools
Because you know your mama
Didn't raise no fools
When the sun goes down
You've gotta put up your legs
You' don't make no omelette
Without breaking some eggs
When the sun goes down
When the sun goes down
Don't shatter the glass
Not everything built was built to last
When the sun goes down
Get some good sleep
All things will pass
Like the things in the deep
When the sun goes down
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I met Tesla riding the 376
Back up to Bristol, licking his lips
At the prospect of throwing sticks
At the university of dirty tricks
He told me once I needed a bride
He showed me how I had no pride
Then Freud turned round and said
Einstein's Died
And so has Ego in the world's tide
But superman sat upon a park bench
And when I looked around
I saw a mensch who was talking
To a Nazi hench
About the stench of a cooking wench
It all erupted in World war three
And I hoped that Tesla didn't see
For lightning Conductors and
Time machines
Could drag him away from me
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Portland bill, Portland bill he was a friend of mine
But then he choked on the smoke
More bitter than a lemon rind
So we stand along the shore
Yes we stand in line
Because we don't want them to kill our bill
We're keeping him in mind
Portland Bill, Portland Bill
Walking around your town
All I see Are faces
A lot of them look down
They say we don't want no dump trucks here
Grinding up our minds
With their drills and tyres whirring
With their hammer thumps in time
They say Portland Bill, Portland Bill
He was a friend of mine
They say the council turned them down
So the company appealed
Bitter as a lemon rind
Sore losers for the underdogs
But it's big money
Sways the mind
Giving them security
Strangling
The voices of the kind
Because Portland Bill, oh Portland Bill
He was a friend of mine
the proposed Portland incinerator case: https://portlandassociation.co.uk/the-portland-incinerator/
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Oh the steady stead of progress
Oh the lies of all the
Back biting dirty handed grease
Chopping the choppy ocean
Peppering the peptide brain
With kisses of devotion
Like in the silence of the grain
Fields of night in stars
Where the starlings feed
And missing you in motor cars
Scars across motorways
Across the desert landscape
We set off and face
The harshest of the hurricanes
All forgiveness jeopardy
of the hunting leopard too
Large in lioness adversity
To become a beauty
Yet spotted in vigilante vigils
Of a society of cheetahs
And well-wishers
Viciousness of wishing wells
I nearly broke my back
Looking into
The taste of cold wet pennies
And the blackness
Looking in the well
For the stars
You were there also mother Mary
Evangelist
Archangel Michael's list
Of those he deems a demon
And will strike down with his sword
And I on the roof
Tied to the chimney
On look out for Santa Clause
But all I found was my father
Signalling a beacon
Looking for the signs above
On when and how to leave us
In a gentle departure
Like is Christmas in all
Its ever-diminishing evolutions
Until all we have are national holidays
To believe in
Staring down the well
And looking for the stars
And carving out our names in
The setting cement of mortar
Like engravings on a gravestone
In a cemetery
Who would throw stones
At glass houses
If they knew what promises
Could be broken
And quite how vicious
All our wishes are
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
little egrets of great wealth
Come to me in your hour of health
And stick it to the stickman
Who walks in the straw bale caravan
Stick it to the heron
And the heroes and the heroines
Stick it to the starving starlings
And the burbling blackbirds
Little Egrets of great worth
Come to see the garden's mirth
And play upon the fretted field
Das spiegel und das miele
Find the shark, and shore your teeth
Little Egrets of harsh relief
Sable stable upon the grief
Silhouette statue chief
Little egret prayer's belief
For the cutted diamond studded reef
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.