Throw back

It all began in the snow storm
The mint snow glistened like money
I said I wish life was this soft
She said you know it is honey

The dream of Geronitis was smitten
By the half seagull ghosts who were bitten
By the bug at the end of the cotton wool thread
When you know what you seemed was a mirror to the dead

Come black beads, tie your goose fat wives
Upon the bed leg
Throw back the tides of guiltless lives
Back into the faces of the unsaid

Night Bus

Night bus, night bus coming down the road

Coming like a troubled truss, for our woes to unload

Night bus in the water, in the river with the toad

Night bus its double trust, all your thoughts its knowed

Night bus on the Danube, down Bartók Béla, crossing near to Blaha Lujza utca

Crossing over the border, crossing lines and crossing hairs

To get her in your sight

Yet you know she!s not the target

Target of the night

Night bus rolling strongly like an unstoppable force

Filling with the people of the party

Flowing out like a river’s course

Filling up like sardines

Filling up like kippers,

Making me sleep your night bus dreams

While I put on my slippers

Getting out in the rain, in the heart filled night

In the mountains of my youth

The moon burns big and bright

In the architecture of desire, the buildings are taking shape

They fall and quake into one another

A new home to make

Night bus brewing merrily,

Like a kettle a boil

Steaming down the wet rainy streets

With the night busman’s toil

This kind of love

I don't believe in this kind of love

The kind that starts with a kiss

You are like a blue bottled fly

Buzzing around in a bottle of piss

I don't believe in organized religion

Nor the voice’s call from above

What if I did? I would fall into Oblivion

No, I don't believe in this kind of love

I don't have hours to waste in the bedroom

To spend on the desk or the ironing board

I don't have days to paste in your gloom

Or to paint white varnish over vampire hoards

I am a sick man of heaven

I am pirate of certain death

I have eleven tigers in the basement

And they are all raging holding their breath

I am a giant of Germanic literature

Fooling my guardian angel in step

She is a giant of cemetery censure

She will not allow me to see my own death

There are two fuses broken in the basement

One is the love of everything ordinary

The other is ordinance of every kind of love

And if you leave me I will fix the circuitry

But that still won't light up all of heaven above

I am a sick man full of pestilence and war

I hold in my hands the keys to the poor

I have locked them from riches and gold

I'm sorry they never told me the time to let go

I have a fire truck spitting its fire

I have a lake full of burning desire

I walk right through it, even on the water

Just to get a glimpse of Moses' daughter

Desire

If I could say what I really wanted
Oh what a world that would be
One in which nobody wanted to pressurize me
One in which it is clear to see
What is important and what is just
The flotsam floating on the sea

If only such life sucking corals didn't tear
At my knee
When I try the shallow waters and wade into the beach
Into the inner lands of uncertainty

Where it is safer you might have thought
To be on dry land
Crossing my Ts
Dotting my 'i's
And drawing up noughts

Than out, out in the treachery of the wide open ocean
Where freedom hails the sharks from their homes
In caves beneath the surface emotions

Where jellyfish stingers of regret or guilt
Can pull down into the sinkhole
The very galleons they have built

That slow turtles of a mild day's cares
Come drifting by without hurry
Without trouble just the joy of being there
And then you ask me
Is this what you want??

Do I want life on an ocean of calm
Or one of boiling tumult?
I can tell you I want neither
Neither if they either cause you harm
But mostly I see no way out
Of such suffering
We are the pigs or the chickens
on Animal Farm

It is as inevitable as death and taxes
And sometimes it seems such is the weight of this
And yet we both are free are we not?
Both free to choose,
But not to love
Because that is paramount
Of top most concern
That I love you, you and, and you do not scorn
No I believe in the potential of this love
It is just I do not believe in the current flow between us
Sometimes it is DC, Sometimes AC and I must
Confess I turn off the power
When you blow a fuse in the basement
I can't find the fuse box, I'm looking in the medicine cabinet
Search for something to heal the ailment
In my soul or your soul
But sometimes I get confused which fuse is blown
Who I need to fix you or I
When you lose control
And let the house plants fly

I wonder what nether land of unearthly desire
I have stumbled upon
Or cut my hand
I watch it bleed in to your fire
And blood burns bitter not sweet
When it feels the unnatural heat
And sometimes it can no longer flow
Like a candle gone out
After the last blow
After all the screams and shouts
I cannot know
Which side of Eden I am about
Or whether to hold on
Or just let go
But I can't

The city lights

All of these mysteries come circling like vultures
Trying to braid art into our many cultures
Seeing what the vibrato voice can really do
Try looking down the wishing well
You will see myself with you

Even when the weather's holy
As a sacred cow
And the brown paper bag
Is tethered to the crow
Even then my monopoly
On you is far from swift
I can hold you in my hands
But you cannot be my gift

Even when I see you together
With that other man
I fall between the pavement cracks
And my legs won't stand
Even when I hurt so bad
I can barely tell
One side of Trinidad from the other side of hell

This place is making me a little sick in the head
Like a feather from the crow flying from the land of the dead
Even when the weather's bad I remember the words you said
That we would be together through the nights
Through the streets
Through all the nights and streets
And the city lights that sped

up to you

Dead weights
In islands of my mind
Songs listing
Like Galleons in a storm
An armada of choices
Awash with indiscretion
Garlands of hubris
To crown myself in

The Fs and Rs
Are Happy Gs
Jest, it is Just
Ket, cat
Caterine, the rine
Of the cat

Nice Sky

Its a nice sky
What colour is it?
A kind of pinky orange, like a fish's scales
It hangs there like a tapestry over
the flats of a certain destiny
High rise in intensity
The dreams of Gherkins brought to courgettes
Ghengus Khan's children
Inadvertently under-esteemed
Until the Empire is just
This painted cloud castle
Where he rides his chariot
Drawing the sun, like he
Drew the close of day
On an age of magic

All the Spring Flowers

All of us, all of us everyone
The seeds in the field
Growing in the Sun
All of us reaching to be closer to the one

All the silly sunflowers
Bobbing up their heads
Reminding us it is spring's hours
We need not be dead

Come alive in March
And fall into April
Like a tree with a broken branch
Whose height topples its alma mater - ial

Where can the cuckoo sit, when he comes to call?
The flowers with his cuckoo spit
Are grown against the wall
The shadow of the wall casts long in the afternoon
But I can yet hear his song way into the month of June

I need a lasoo or a whip
To keep the cattle rolling
I need a steamer or a ship
To keep the river strolling

Keep on going down the valley
The cowboys sing their song
Of all the yard girls at aunt Sally's
Yearning the whole day long

Green ice

Green ice, green ice watching you
The Balaton has green ice

Walking along its circumference
Close to the Cathedral of Tihany
It gives its gentle crush to the ice
Green ice watching you

Moving on now like a ferry
We perambulate up and down
The promenade like dancers of the night
It is a nice place for the ducks I think
They toddle like babies but never quite sink

The swans are even pretty in pink
Wise in white, with their legs pulled up
Green ice, green ice watching you

Crows in a pair come down and tap
Poking the green ice with their beaks
Asking it questions, but like a captive agent
The green ice never breaks, never speaks

Its folding up near the pier though
Its edges are beginning to flake
Its made of some stuff very queer
I think it is metal, think it is real then fake

Its holding on to the winter
Like it doesn't want to let it go
Hold on green ice, no just let your ice melt
Because gone is the cold winter snow

Let your green ice flow Mrs Balaton
Let the tears come running down your face
The crows feet are already at your corners
They're dancing the new dance in your place

Green ice, green ice watching you
Fasting the whole day through
How can you live, with a twig, with a fig
With a green leaf covering you

I tried my luck upon your green ice
You held my body in tow
My foot steps left tentative tracks on your ice
But in the end I had to go

I am sure you could have held me
for longer
I'm certain you had the strength
But I was afraid that the new spring curtain
would come down, and I'd
fall right through

Green ice if I could keep you
Green ice if you were true
I would leave the shore side
And walk out into the lake with you

Good Morning Mr Black Bird

Top of the morning to you
The black bird says
What are you doing? I ask
She says listening to the days
Listening to the birdsong
And the days roll past
Today into tomorrow so slow
The earth does not spin fast

Some days you must slow down
Acclimatize yourself with God
Nature or the universe
Whichever you feel gives you life
And keeps you here for a purpose

When I do I stop falling
I stop being blown in the breeze
Like a leaf fallen into the green Balaton
I am silently stuck there
until I unfreeze

The American Corner

 A little piece of heaven

A slice of the American pie

A report of the news at seven

Your own private cloud in the sky

Come here to read, or unwind

Come here to leave behind

Those hours of nine til five

Dolly Parton eat your heart out

Now the American Corner’s come alive

Pieces of the American dream

Gradually fall into place

They fill in the Hungarian scene

Where reality wears a different face

Yet we all wear masks here

We’re all part of the carnival

Some clown sheds a tear

Another actress shines a knowing smile

The American corner revolves around

The spirit we can all better ourselves

And the queen of that dream

Is Bogi who's seen sitting, working hard

At her computer among the full book shelves

It’s a place of Education

A place for rich and the poor

It's egalitarian Librarian

Is partly fraternal, a little maternal, 

Showing us the score

Giving us the US quiz, to improve our knowledge some more

So roll up, roll up come join the parade

We're marching through the town

People of every colour, creed or shade

Everyone is equal and we all have the right

To pursue our own happiness

And to fight the good fight

Disparate parts

All the songs of virtue and
The bees whose invisibility rests
Upon the very backs of business
On the trees of Budapest

They circumnavigate circumference
And infer the situations the best
That care and love are held in reference
To the bodily boldness of rest

They cut the curtains of coincidence
And draw up the dawn light of truth
The toads in the road
Have utterly showed all manner
Of amphibious proof

That a creature who lives underwater
Can likewise breath on dry land
Even if the air is salty and bare
Or in the fog of unseeable sand

The horse of the city is running wildly
charging outdoors holding counsel
With the wise men who have bolted
The gates to the poor

The rich are in their towers
They are behind their pearly gates
They keep the castle from disenfranchised powers
Yet hope springs though it maybe late

I have shown the circumstances how to sing
And the sirens have followed my voice
Alarm bells down the ages ring
Though nor do they have a choice

A feather in the cap of calypso
Who turns the board to the surf
And paddles out to meet the tornedo
Between Cape Cod and the Caribbean turf

The followers of pensive penitentiaries
Are imprisoned in a pendulum well
Because everybody in the cemeteries
Keep swinging between heaven and hell

I've seen it so it must be true
That jokers cast their shadows blue
Across the poker tables cue
The players to up their ante

A castle in the river fell
In three feet of water but six could tell
A good cousin saved from a living hell
Was one sinner best lost than forgotten

I'm asking you to pray for me
To open up your heaven for me
The only work in the world that's free
Is to do his will in his kingdom

There are no more ghosts to save
Apart from those who have not found the grave
And will search out the bold and brave
Until they've done his bidding

I should like to end this now
But I really don't know how
Perhaps I will just stop right here
And don't cry, don't shed a tear

Hunyadi in Budapest

On the streets of Budapest
Where the old clouds roll
Where the crowds in their dust storm bowl
Like so many refugees

Old street where Hunyadi strolled
With his cargo of cannons
And his wagons which roll

What does he think now
The peace loving town
This proud metropolis
Full of shirtless sacred cows

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the Danube
What thinks Hunyadi
Of the river banks metro tube

The slow train to Eden
The fast train back home
The mark of cain
On the brain of all men
Left alone

Hunyadi walks in some mythic dream
Where the archetypes come out of doors
They slap him on the back
His philosopher kings
Who bring their naked love lorn wisdom
Like a sack of precious things

They salt his tea with their virtues
In the fresh cafe bars
Which smell of coffee from Turkey
And remind him of Turkish wars

They send him up to the stocks
Tell him this is where the criminals hang
They say newspapers are our flogging grounds
And the government gongs they bang

They sidle up to him like snakes
In the city parks
And offer him apples of hidden knowledge
From the world that goes on after dark

They sit sadly like fishermen
Trying to catch the glimmers of their youth
As the river of time flows on down their banks
And the fish slip through their fingers like truth

They find him nets to catch their lies
Like they were spider webs
And the homeless life of Hunyadi soon dies
Or ebbs
On the grounds of the palace of proof

His clouds are rolling softly like thunder
With the promise of powder kegs
They leave their trail of black granules under
The snow like black spider eggs

They lead the way to parliament
Where the king sits on his throne
And Hunyadi looks then drops his lighted match to the pavement
Then watches as to smithereens its blown