Strawberry fields

 Well the time came again

That a train visited the hills

The train of volunteers

Driven by their common wills

Through

Long forgotten glades

Fields of silver

Fields of gold

Fields of bronze

Fields once sold

Now bought back again

All for the train

All for the memory

All for the future

All for the history to be

Tied up like sutures

Never leaving a loose end

Never knowing what's round the bend

Or down the tracks

The strawberry fields forever

snippets and swathes

 Slashing through the teasel

The herb Robert and the thistle

Laying low the nettles

Living and dead as a steam whistle

Stalks and blades

And crunching like a samurai sword

Through baboo

Gone the days

Of Railway glades

But the thought remains

It's true

Sh sh go the sibilant slashers

Sh sh go the wheels on the tracks

Sh sh she says

Hush hushing the railway backs

hiss, hiss go the "S's" of pistons

clip,clip go the volunteers' snippers

What use is all this now?

Hush the railway line

Life on the line

 Johnny's on the line

He's getting no sleep today

They don't like you for your personhood

They call themselves the Robinhoods

The Forest rangers

The track defenders

But the fruit gets squished in their grips

As insult off their red lips trips

They'll use you on the Strawberry Line

They'll take your body and soul

They'll tie you down and wait

Until across you bicycles roll

Don't go and sell your body

For the price of their coal

The respect you'll earn, will not burn

Hot enough fires in your soul

They talk in their drivel

Of self-aggrandizing fame

To keep alight their own torch bright

While the light house is aflame

Everyone wants a beacon

A dream in which to believe

Come and be a follower

You might give but you won't receive

Not unless it is their scorn

From the early morn until the Eve

For their crown of thorns

Is always worn

whether borrowed or whether thieved 

Statues of you

 If I were a man of stone

My sin would go, I would atone

You could stand me up upon a plinth

In praise of my mighty, heroic stints

But I never meant to be just so

In life I was of flesh and bone

And weak moments had I many

I'd be a millionaire by now if I had a penny

If I were a man of glass

You could throw a stone

And I would pass

All shattered into pieces

Lying on the grass

If I were a man of glass

If I were a man of grass

You'd grow me up

In your fields vast

And crop me down

In swathes of your sythe

And lie me flat in waves of lives

And each life you'd gather up

thrash my corn and fill your cup

If I were a man of wood

Well no that would do no good

You'd chop me down

With a swing of your ax

Lay me on the river of your tax

Float me down to build ships and dams

Then I'd be shipwreck or a log jam

So I am a man of metal

You've turned into a robot kettle

I boil up I boil down

You switch me on and off and frown

This metal man talks so funny

Let's buy another with our money

Throw him on the scrap heap of dreams

Discarded, washed up in life's streams

Come and show me an element of what you are

Be it a cow or elephant be it lion or jaguar

We all are made up of parts,

All are pieces of another

So when you think that you won't fit

Just remember your mother

She had you for some reason

Though I can't think what it is

It surely wasn't to make money

As that seems but a swizz

Perhaps it was to be funny

Perhaps to drink some fizz

It seems that some only wish that honey

Were made of swiss cheese and is

So don't stand me up and make me last

I am not a hero who lived in the past

Were they ever as big as their myths?

It seems to me something's amiss

Believe it or not

 He's the Robinhood

With his band of Merry Men

All Working in the wood

And as I write my pen

A felling they go like Jacks

Fighting Giants that them surround

In their Castle towers

With horse and fox and hound

Farther off is Maid Marianne

She's tied to a railway track

And her bold Prince Charming

Is racing to save her, breaking his back

Nearby is the Sheriff of Nottingham

They've been fighting him off, still

But he won't let them across his land

Not until they settle his bill

But a toll road is not quite what they had

In mind

So they'll levy a tax upon the rich

To give back to the poor in kind

Oh we're living in a fairy tale

It's a land of make believe

That all this stuff could be made up

You better hope Merlin's got 

Something up his sleeve

And King Arthur is riding tonight

With the goats and the Fairies of Neve

Because it's time to vote folks

Between the mirror and smokes

It's the Election of Midsummer's Eve

Oberon is winning in Hungary

Puck is Warlord I believe

Ariel has got her hair stuck in the drier

And is blowing hot air over Steve

The Astronomers would not believe it

For they had stars in their eyes

And could you  Adam and Eve it

When God heard that Jesus had died

Everyone wept in their tombs

Everyone even sad I

Eye had tears in his bed

But it was better than stick in his eye

Fly, fly went the moon

Fly went the moon in the sky

Honey I think I shrunk the moon

When I turned the telescope on the sly

Not much could be seen of the drunk sun in the sky

The summer already had stunk like a skunk after it'd died

So I banged my head and went to bed

And hoped it was a just a big fat lie

A lot of changes

 Change is in the air

Change for good or bad

Change it isn't fair

But it's all we've ever had

I am going to change you

You will change me too

Nothing we can do

But you know it is true

Change in the weather

Change in pressure

Change in the politics

Change is made to measure

Change in money

Change in Church

Change in possession of confession

Change is ever funny

Change can be scary too

Makes you think you're drunk or dizzy

Standing at a great height

Looking over all of this makes me wonder

If I might

But stress is a deceiver

Plays on the body and mind

Brings you over the limit of sleeping

Brings you a bundle of weeping

Brings you roots and nerves

Brings you pain

That keeps you leaping

Up the next grapevine

Chasing after a rumour

That flits like a bird

Rumour bird keeps on speaking

Change is good just a matter of time

The Heart of Wessex

 Haul away to Salisbury

I'll not be back today

We load the stock

With brick and rock

And Quarrying we may

Well Johnny's on the line ma

He's a rolling car

The buds are blooming in the sidings

The broom and Buddleia

They get on board at Weymouth

They alight thar at Frome

And by the time of Castle Cary

Well there wasn't any room

They've been a holidaying

Down the Heart of Wessex line

But it's alright, the car is tight

Johnny's rolling all the time

Well haul away to Salisbury

And back to Cattistock

We hit bad weather 

At Marston Magna

And Rolled back to West Radstock

Now nevermind Bathampton

Westmoreland or Bath Spa

It's Limpley Stoke

With the Freshford folk

Who'll climb into his car

He never knew a girl before 

Like the one from St Anne's Park

She could quick draw

And from her maw 

She drew a big dog's bark

It was called the Heart of Wessex

the beating Vena Cava

The artery, the pulmonary

The vein and semi quaver

If ever there was a left leg

They'd call it Weymouth Quay

If ever blood went to their head

In Temple Meads they'd be

Now here's the heart of Wessex

A pumping people home

Up and down the West Country

From Salisbury to Frome

Now speaking of a right hand

Across to Clevedon pier

Upon the Cheddar Valley line

All drinking Strawberry beer

Upon the Great Western Railway

Isambard Kingdom Brunel

He built the bridge across the Avon cliffs

Johnny knew him very well

Now Johnny comes a walking

Down the tracks that he once rolled

The tunnels where he blew his whistle

Along strawberry hills he strolled

Now the beating heart of Wessex doesn't

Pump no more of his blood

But the tracks that once held his stacks

Are now covered in his mud

Yes Johnny's in the cab

Shovelling the coal

And he's the steam of fires seen

As the rolling stock does roll

And the body is not working

But it's still living mind and soul

And the ghost of Johnny Firkin

Still hauls down on the Wessex roll

A plague on all your houses

In the dawn of Budapest
The city sleeps
I get no rest
The wind whistles up the streets
Where babies are born a new

And in each house a plague

Sin cities

 Sin city

Budapest, and Bristol too

Paris and Naples

Are too Staples of the choir

Singing the Sin city song

Tokyo is dirty

Prague is a nest of vipers

And New York ranks among the wipers

Clearing mud and crud from screens

What is this sinful sordidness

Seedy alley and dark doorways

Tempting sailors and young men away

From the light side of the road

London's greasy underbelly

Athen's heat strung out their poor

Shanghai's dizzy sparkling lights

Hongkong's techno neon nights

Sinful cities where their snakes bite

Their dogs bear their teeth white

Like lady's of the night whose skin shines bright

As their pimps bark through the dark

From purple suits and fur seats

And twinging red lights that blink

On and off

City limits, borderlines

Who crosses over? Who loses themselves?

In those cities of sin

Perspective

 The Ying and the Yang

The otherside,

 all opposites attract - love

all opposites repel - politics

The private

and The public

Always between the two

No one can help

The twisting turning

Turning

In the world at war

Turning in the family core

Because all is a storm

And all is calm

In the heart

In the chaos

All is change

And ever has been

Shepton Open Gardens

 Following the trail train

Like a bee come

and gone again

Threading through

The prison garment button holes

It's harder to escape

From cloth

Cloth-ears

And stone imprinted on the sack

The wrack of tears

It was just a widow's window

From where prisoners leer

The sadness hardens like mud

In the sun

It cracks

And new shoots have begun

To spring up between

When it goes soft in the rain

My face her face

The mud or clay

It doesn't make much

Difference at the end of the day

Trudging to the gardens

It was a pleasure

I must say

To walk up the steps of hallowed houses

Painted gay

And hold like a thistle your love

On Labour's day

When the work stopped

We all walked round

To give thanks and pray

Tell me how you did it

Made this hydrangea climb?

Or that Campanella

Spread out like that?

Tell me how you paved the path?

Or made a standing stone?

Or took a building made of glass

And called it your home?

Tell me did you paint your gnomes?

Oh did you sew those seeds?

Did the Georgians clip their hedges?

Had they the green sleeves?

Did their finger tips turn brown, then 

More yellow and green?

Oh tell me why do you where a crown

When you are not a queen?

Oh so la de da, oh so lady Grey

So the Singing night jar

In the tree of Bay

I think it's a Viburnum

Perhaps cotoneaster

Ten weeks, ten sacks

Ten nettles later

Seven letters to the council

Should turn 'em

Oh I love your Verandah

See how the turf does lay

Just a soft mattress

Oh see the lambs lay down in the hay

Watch out I think there's a panda

Hiding in the bamboo

Shoo, shoo, you fellow gerrymander

Setting up your signs of blue

Look out nobody's weeded

Oh but it gives a natural hue

I prefer it when it is needed

For it gives us something to do

Though we strive for perfection

There we usually come up short

And if you ever knew yourself

When you were young and foolish

Did you always do what you ought?

But we are given a license to F*** up

At that age

It's just to keep repeating the same mistakes

Only leaves you looking like you're missing

a page

When you're lacking a pen and ink pot

Yes though it looks like the rain

The pigeons

Still queue on the sill

And Even the crows

Know what they know

That it's only time we're

all trying to kill

Jackass and father's day

 Balls to boules 

the posh French prats

Off with their, off with their

heads

The Queen of Hearts

The Queen of Tarts

Baking all day again

The bishop farts

In his castle keep

Surrounded by the rain

The vain moat

The holy goat

The smoking Bent piranha

It's getting past a joke

I cannot gloat

As I'm sat here wearing

Pyjamas

Stick them up their ......

It's a piece of cake

The jack could fit

Up their ass

Jackass

Bishop's palace

Bishop's eye

We bouled them out we did

His eyes were balling

Like a kid

The Bishop had a log in his

Pull it before you

Talk about a stick in his

The green was oh so perfect

So unlike Eden

You couldn't believe it

Sacrosanct halls

Well painted interiors

Smelling of the lush value of superiors

Or those who give themselves

Just so much self-esteem

As God doesn't give them

This is Ego's dream

Riven from the arrogance

And pride of Hallowed halls

Where hypocrisy is the bride

And the Wedding vows are called

Just so You know The place I mean

It's the Bishop's Palace

Wells

On the Bowling Green

The self-preservation society

They're called

All things come to those who wait

It's just the time is lean

And As the time gets thinner

So the Greed gets mean

As you realize if you're a winner

You must swallow your pride

The problem is the tongue

Gets in the way

And you end up saying what you

Should not ever say

You see that's the way a beginner begins

Believing in the almighty

He realises he has everything to learn

Still at the age of ninety

Because it's not about your coat tails

Or the way you dress your pudding

But it's all about the summer days

And the mess you make of gooding

All the good and all the bad

All tied up in your old dad

Our father who art in Bruton

Hallowed be thy name

Humdinger

 It's a humdinger

And a bell ringer

A hum dinger today

It was a humdinger

A dumb singer

And a gunslinger today

They say don't finger

The harbinger

Don't you linger at bay

Get yourself a good winger

Make sure she's a bringer

And get yourself on your way

It was a hum dinger a real

Gun slinger

That shot down my baby today

Full finger, pulled the trigger

And soon my baby did sway

It was a humdinger

Like a sling-shot slinger

That laid Goliath in his grave

Thrown by David slayer of tyrants

Who stood up to the giant's tyrade 

He was a humdinger

A bell ringer

The shot down my baby today

In the shade of Sherwood forest

Where the holly trees stand with the bay

Beyond the prison walls

 Sunrise over the prison

The sun my only friend

Giver of life

The sun sets all men free

Sets my soul free

It says stop living in the past

For the past is a prison

Only in the present moment

Are you

Free

No man or woman can control it

Only in your mind are you free

Remember no matter how deep

A hole you're in

A little Sunlight will

Always shine in

And there is hope in the future

Hope that darkness will not last

Hope that folk heroes

Always had in the past

And despite terror or torment

Or destruction so vast

That the mould we were made in

Was a strong worthy cast

So set not your eyes

On the bars that bind

But look out between them

To free your mind

There are free fields 

And lands that were made for you and  me

Somewhere out beyond the sea

Summer days

 I've been awaiting

Trying not to be a hating

Getting up early coming home late in

The evening time

Making hay

The day has been lazing

Like grasses have been weighting

Down with their heavy heads

Sleeping in their way

Seeds lie a slating

Flowers bloom the grating

I am far from hating

The loving time of day

Maidens go a milking

Silk worms are a silking

Up mothers stay a sewing

Making piecework pay

Fathers are a binding

To their leathers minding

Uppers they're a lasting

Lasting out the day

But still the flowers

Start a wilting

Beds lie a quilting

Babes in cots a milking

Crying night and day

Roses sweetly smelling

Trees once stood now a felling

Falling in the forests

Where the Ashes had their day

And as I go a walking

Hear the chickens squawking

All the bees are swarming

In the warming light of day

Lost in your love

 I get lost in your love

Anything above

But when push comes to shove

I get lost in your love

Any time

the wars have come 

And the blues are hard as stone

Anytime

you show me fors

And againsts when I'm alone

I try to see 

the wood

For the the trees

But I'm dug up like a bone

And your hounds are running after me

While we're speaking on the phone

I get lost in your love

Don't know who I'm thinking of

It could you be you or me

In the wrong zone

I need a map

To find you on my lap

Singing like a bird's sweet tone

Because I'm lost in your love.

That's about the Scythe of it

 Now Scythe me down

Ammerdown

With a sweep of your blade

The axe falls in the hay

Like the battles now past

And on a cool June day

As the snails slimed the grass

We not so grim reapers reaped

What lay in our path

Reap what you sow

Don't sow what won't last

The seeds of summer days

Lie in the earth of autumn past

Now scythe me down

Like heads of grass

Seeds heads, pop

Tall storks clasp

Lie like sticks

Of warriors past

Now scythe the clover

Scythe the thistle

As time scythes the lover

And the last train's whistle

Blowing passed

Like seeds in the air

Scything go the swifts

And swallows without a care

Scything in the willows

Twisting over the pond

Scything down

The stinging nettles

Of their magic wand

Giver of the poisons darts

Scything go the ants at heart

Cropping through the leaf

Scything pincer teeth

Time for a Holiday

 Twisting up in virtue, I realise all is lost

Just as the ghost of a curfew

Self-made photograph

The tubs are lit

By corkscrew cousins

That make I laugh

Because Somerset is so see-through

Oh the dalliance of a giraffe

What are you in Italy?

Now on holiday in India, Peru

How about the Himalyas

I here there's an expensive view

I'd like to be on holiday

Why not take a break

In the end we all are slaying the dragon

We've been burning at the stake

Let yourself have some rest

Why not don't you deserve it

We live in a land 

Of holographs

And I know what you've been going through

It's easier to live like a bored

English slug

Than take a hold of yourself and lug

Your English ass off to foreign climbs

Where the bees smoke

Hula's 

And love is a prime number

All for one and one for all

Keep wandering

 I found you in the bar room 

And lost you in the pond

While I was eating Hemlock

Like some philosopher

But stones get thrown at glass houses

And I'm just one of those

You showed me how the world could be

Seen through another's eyes

It's just your kind of cutting room talk

Don't give the truth a big enough part

I just wish you well

From the bottom of my inkwell

Give me a pen to write my name

Perhaps I can remember it pretty soon

It's just this cell division

I'm having trouble with

Meiosis or Mitosis between your soul and mine

You see like a weed I clinged to your roots

Now I'm drawing the line

I've got to hope for a better view

One with new life assured

It's been a whole bonfire of the vanities

For me to see the clear light of day

Because truth has a terrible face

And sometimes to face it we must pay

A heavy price for freedom

But what hope is there is in mud?

I am just a tumbleweed who blew right into town

And I will blow on out again before the sundown

It's easy to speak in foreign tongues 

When you were born to wander far

And I must keep on travelling

Following my guiding star