A Ruminating cowboy

 Like a ruminating cowboy

Chewing the cud in the mud

Along with his cows

Thinking thoughts he can't even understand

All alone on the prairie land

With his thoughts running through his fingers like sand

Like a ruminating cowboy

In a battle with his cattle

Talking prittle prattle

To a rancherman 

Leaning on a fence post on the rancher's land

Considering the lily in the waterhole

Where he washes his hands

Like a ruminating cowboy

Holding tight to the ponderous thoughts

Going through his mind

Like a lasso bind

Lassoing up the strays like

Shooting manta rays he could find

Or something along those lines

Like a ruminating cowboy

Overthinking the stinking lot

That is his life, doesn't help him a lot

If he loses the plot or his mind

Like a ruminating cowboy

I think therefore I am

Or I am therefore I think, I'm in a bind

If I cogitate will I find

I'm not really the cowboy kind?

Like a ruminating cowboy

Contemplating the clover

And the tobacco in his grind

Rolling up a fag of the inexpensive kind

Debating fate over the Indian wines

Deliberating with the snakes on

The Texas New Mexico lines

Like a Ruminating cowboy

Mulling over a mule

Eyeing up a steer for to

stir in the stew

Meditating the meat

Wrestling with the rodeo

In his rawhide seat

Rolling up and wracking up

And turning over in his sleep

All the herds that ever heard

Him rolling in the deep

Like a ruminating cowboy

Dining room

 Do you remember when we sauntered

Down Kirlegate

Into the peabody fields 

Of long owl bottomed tablelands

Of sheets of ice over grass

That broke when we walked

Like knives and forks

On the dinner table

A Christmas in the dining room

With the big dark brown wooden legs

And sitting up straight

And well behaving 

Accidents and incidents

Of birth

But in our mother's sphere 

where the 

Birthday parties were

And the weight of those thick walls

And the texture of the wall paper

I can almost touch

The convex mirror

Set in black twisted leaves

And our grandmother

Like a presence known

Without even being there

And now she, our mother

Waves a hand through thin air

Does not fully know

I'm there, perhaps can hardly see

Except on certain days

And times

When the curtains in her mind

Draw back enough

Or align

To allow a polarized light through

And spotlight

In the dusty air

Again back on that table spare

In the dining room

All those moons

Ago

When we were young and her children

And not her adult helpers

But how is identity defined?

Just a shroud a cover over us

That lasts for a certain time

Until we must slough off the skin

And grow

Or change

It's strange, isn't it strange?

Have my cake and eat it

 Well I hit rock bottom

With a rock cake

They said I was forgotten

But I've been on the bake

It's not that it's Stollen, or sponge or date

Oh just want to have my cake and eat it

It's a shame that a man these days can't decide

Whether to be a woman and have to wear a disguise

It's not the way I cut the mustard or bake my bread

Oh I  just want to have my cake and eat it

Yes you've been giving me these excuses

About the size of your cake tin, and how it was faked in

 and how I have to use it

But I just like the cream and jam, Pam

Oh I just want to have my cake and eat it

I've seen madams make cakes in the confectory

They all look so tempting, but it's like I'm stuck inside a rectory

And even the Vicar likes his cake with tea, like me

Oh but I just want to have my cake and eat it

What has happened to the world ma

It all seems so absurd ma

If I were Marie-antoinette, I think I'd get it in the neck

For saying let them all eat cake

Oh I just want to have my cake and eat it

It maybe a mignon, or a chocolate bourbon

Perhaps an eclair, I don't care

But if you tell me I can't have it

I'll just reach in the jar and grab it

Oh I just want to have my cake and eat it

It's been such a long while

Since I've been able to smile

So why can't I just have my cake and eat it?!

Don't get too heavy

Don't get too heavy

Oh it's only the middle of the night

Don't get too heavy

Oh and don't give up the fight

Don't get too heavy

Cos I need a little light

Oh don't get too heavy tonight 

I need a levy on all the things

You're doing right

I need a chevy, but I only got a bike

It's not my bevy

But you know it is my bite

Don't get too heavy tonight

Make love room

 This room ain't much to look at

The taps a walking out the wall

On long spider legs

And your powder kegs

Are about to blow up everything and all

These chairs are not much

at lying

These beds are not much for sinking

These lies are like a flower stinking

Stinking of the bad rose air

Oh I can tell you that I loved you

From the moment I first saw you

Playing and sparkling in the air

Your eyes were like a fire

And your face like a choir

That sings out of some kind of despair

But a real joy was in you

And I knew, just knew you'd renew

Like a phoenix from the ashes of her care

And go spiralling into night

Like a beautiful firelight

Burning as the thousand suns up there

So we must make room for love

Make room don't slip off her glove

That falls like a silk scarf on a wild wood stair

Make room for love

And all the the oils on the the roaring sea

All the black spills killing

All the helpless gulls

Make room for love

Let love make room for you and me

love meaning

 I mean I love you

Yes I love you

Yes I do

I love you

Without warning

But the sun is early dawning

And the black night of your suffering

Still lingers on your ruffling

Bedsheets

All the songs of the skies

seem to fall down and die

But when you hold your head up high

I can feel

Your long goodbye

of longing

And I've spent many lonely nights on my pillow

Crying myself to sleep just like a weeping willow

And if you want something from way down deep

Well let me tell that I keep one eye open when I sleep

Beaver lodge

 Beaver lodge, beaver lodge

You gotta get on down to the beaver lodge

Don't dislodge, don't dislodge

Get your log down to the beaver lodge

There's a traffic jam

In the grand coulee dam

You gotta get your log

To the beaver lodge

It's a hell of a thing

It's gonna make you sing

If you ain't got a wing

Then you better bring

Bring your log

To the beaver lodge

I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

 Oh I could be in Ryad or Rome

I could be in Cadiz or Lyon by the Rhone

But there is no place that I would rather roam

Yes, I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

I could be in Trinidad in May

Or costa Rica drinking from a beaker

On any other day

But it's not the sunny seas nor the cool mountains glades

Oh I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

Shepton Mallet is a winner in my book

You don't need to be a good looker

To see that I've got hooked

It's the way that Collett park just rolls down to the brook

Oh I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

Sure there are more Rhinos in Botswana

And I'm sure you could find a diamond down in Asia minor

But I know the orient has nothing near or far 

On the shining star that's Shepton Mallet

Oh Shepton is a king among kings

It's even an apple bitten in the chapel wings

It's fluted, suited, double-newted

Well-pursuited, barrel-booted

Queen of queens is Shepton Mallet

Oh I don't say you should never travel

But what you have here and now

Is what's a wonder to unravel

The present is a gift of the swift

and the heart is a land of the past that's never missed

So light em if you got em

and hold your loved ones fast

For there's no place I'd rather be

Than Shepton Mallet

Shit it and Smell it, alright!

The hedgerows

 The cattle are lowing

And the sun has hardly rose

Well the cattle are lowing

And the sun has hardly rose

But I'm still loving my baby

And in my heart my love grows

Well if you're looking for a filling

Well I know where to go

Go outside of the city

And look inside the hedge rows

I've got two hands for making

The good and the bad side shows

I've got two hands for making

The good and bad side shows

But you want a filling

Then go down to the hedgerows

Send them up

 send them up

Oh send them up

Trump send them up there

On the frontline

To see what their war mongering

and cruel words tear

Tear them up

Oh tear them up

Tear them like the world

They've torn

Show them up

Oh show them up

As the cowards they are

Standing behind their big words

Like

Cows in the pasture

All those sycophants

all those irrelevants

Who are truly redundants

Anyways, anywhere

Beyond their time

Outgrown their wine

And their little piece

of prime time

Send them up

Oh send them up

To the front line

That is theirs

Let them die 

In the wars

 that they've wanted in their

hearts

Let them perish

Like the culprits

but the innocents

spare

Midsommer Moot

 There's a city going up in a village

Just on the outskirts of town

It's a cardboard cut out

But it's real, and you'll

fit in if you're a circus clown

There's a city going up,

But it's sinister

Or it's dexter and breaking bad

But I don't want to think of

The minister

When all he ever had was sad

Why not say it's a great occasion

Why not embrace the love

It's not free but neither is a raison

And their raising a city of doves

The whole time is a kind of madness

The midsummer spirit is rife

Even the weather in its moods is in on it

And it's a living the bohemian life

Well, whether the weather's a boheme

Or just a camper's scourge

You've got to expect the unexpected

But be sure all the sin it will purge

The rain is going to wash us clean

Then the sun will bake our bones

And just like a chicken wing

All the flesh is going to atone

But you've got to hold both hands up to the sky

And with one offer up your prayers

And with the other like a dragonfly

Hover until with gratitude you receive your cares

Song without birds

 I listened to the song 

The one without birds

And all I could hear were

A series of hollow words

I felt my life spiralling 

Way out of control

And leant into the wind

Of a hot blowing soul

The song was quiet

The birds were a sleep

Upon their stick nests

Nestled in deep

And nothing disturbed them

Because no-one could speak

When the birds fell silent

At the end of the week

Tuesday

 Tuesday is the longest day

Tuesday, Tuesday

Tuesday is the longest day

That is all I have to say

Give me Monday anyday

I'd rather Sunday without pay

Than waiting all day long they say

For another bloody Tuesday

If you think that Wednesday's good

Then bully for you and may Robin hood

Come and rob you for you ain't no good

But give me Wednesday anyday

Over another bloody Tuesday

Flash in the pan 2

 

The midwives were busying themselves on the ward

The porters were portering, and the waiting patients looked bored

Nothing much was happening, it was the usual rap

When a certain tapping began to tap

The matron cried "Ahoy there! I smell smoke between the sheets,

Either some aberrant's been smoking or there's a fire on the beat."

Just then the fire alarm raised a chilling sound as if to confirm her suspicion

And a-wailey-wailey went the sirens, calling for an intervention

The hospital crew acted bravely and with brilliance 

To remove the maternal mothers to a safer distance

Down the stairs they were evacuated

While around the bed pan macerating machine smoke circulated

Just then the fire brigade rocked up with their hard hats and their hoses

And they told all those locked up to hold on tight to their noses

And they stormed  up the stairwell, to fight the fire they knew how so well

The new mothers stared on with the look of one who had been stunned,

But then they relaxed with the resilience of the matron

But as they charged through the waiting room lane

A man decided to come down with an attack of chest pain 

The matron called for calm and order

So that her nurses could help the unfortunate border

Who had already had to wait to be seen

Now he had been seen he couldn't wait to leave

So what with fire burning in the upper quarter 

The mothers were gathered down at the breakwater

Of the emergency waiting room doors

But you know when it rains it never rains but it pours

And all these things were sent to try us

Including bed pan macerating machine fires

And before you ask if you can use the can

You better be sure it's not a flash in the pan

2003-2006

Then I saw the terrific red of his cape

as it was flown

in that moment I said

my cover is now truly blown

Then with lightning speed

he took his steed

and rode far away

I was left, my cover bereft

but to die another day

#2

Writing our fears in the wet sand

Angels dressed in armour whip us for more

so scared we cannot understand

when they spread their wings across the floor

The chiming clock was knocked on the head

Time quickened like a falling stone

As I listened to the creaking bed

Each second sounded like breaking bone

#3

The black wings blow

through the window

night breeze kisses our hollow rooms

As the caves under the sea

Fill with ocean sounds

And time, time

is flying like the black crow

against the arc of the white free dove

who explodes in flight

when the bells chime

 

#4The beige room

curdled in the  morning slant

of sunlight, the dragons heart

burns incandescently in the

under water weedy lake

 

in aging moonlight

 

#5 corollary man

No-one understands him like

a corollary can

He works in the mine with

other corollary men

solving problems

in terms of logic

 

#6

 

Like couples in the shadows

 you and I

go under the umbrella of the rose

Together with the crows

we fall and die

 

Together, together at last

The fresco of silence

blows through the leaves

unhanded the bees

drone on and on

into the night-time combine harvester

churning our last

into the earth

 

I was standing under the rose

When I heard you say

my name

by any other name I would

have come to you

but it was under the rose

that I could not move

 

The chiming sunlight on the ringing hills

the rolling landscape

the speechless views

I came and caught you

From under the rose

In a time of plenty

with the desert muse

 

In the land of heart ache

In the sky of crows

where summertime blossomed

under the rose

 

In a land of plenty

In the call of crows

when the pastures grew

under the rose

 

And tracks like snakes

leave us now

to where we wander

You and I with only its shadow

passing us by

under the sky

under the sky

the sky of the rose

 

#7

The ship in the bottle

The whisky has run dry

The stories and broken memories

have been thrown down

with the bones

the aching heart is broken too

It lies there with the stones

but high above

on ocean waves

Rolls the bobbing boat

I can pull it up

I know I can with my magic string

it joins me to the wonderworld

and the stormy ocean in

In the bottle

In the bottle

 

#8

Being a Daly person

down on the docks of Bombay

The clocks are melting on my wrist

The sky is bending like a closing fist

The first time I saw heaven

It was broke on the bridge

The second time it was hot as hell

All saints and angels dripping blood

into the wishing well

Fires flicked flames around swans

 

#9

I want to hold you

I want to hold your visions

I want to hold your stepping stones

As you dance across divisions

In the lime light of the salty day

I want to hold you

I want to make you stay

 

There cups and saucers falling

like broken winged birds

they're dismantling the sky

and their visions are

held in the palm of your hand

 

#10

The gadfly ignites his last

cigar of the hour

great pheasants dance to

the tune of a lepper

and Joseph pulls back his bedcover

to reveal a mask to discover

the strange places his love

for his lover

will drag the horse from a rubber

that wipes out the history of his mother

though not of his brother

In sinks and hat stands

Wine is passed round with a flower

The blind prophet takes bets

with the steel headed shower

as fine metal sheeting slips between the

known and the knower

For questions of philosophic truth of another

down drain pipes the sharks can devour

the locked minute within an hour

 

#11

Oh sweet apostrophy's moon

come back to me oh so soon

Recline on the surface of a spoon

and think of june

The cards on the table are shuffled

The mirror pikes voice has been muffled

in shipping yard quartz

are discoveffled

in the business man's shirt now ruffled

 We come back and haunt

down the loom

of telling yarns now festooned

a shape easy to see it's like a baboon

Though beauty is missed

(and your heart being kissed)

is left in the trees

by the binoculars of twitchers ees

The common moth has evolved

into a thing which his desire beholds

As docks mark the clocks

on the card when he folds

through living creatures he scolds

 

As I look out past the veneer

my mottled bird he is clear

the chastised spirit stays near

when the lungs begin to expire

 

This is obviously me being on my own too long

 And all the burning of the hour

all the magic dissolved in supernatural power

what's bad is good

when someone cries

in the land of the blind

fortune favours the man of one eye

there was no beginning

and will be no end

love is a lane

so travel my friend

To be all good is never

to live

This is obviously me

being on my own too long

 

This is obviously me being

on my own too long

This is torpedo sand

this is turgid eel of electricity

wrapped in life

affirmed in the sea

This is obviously me being

on my own too long

This is obviously me

 

This is the sign language of the sea

all the crustaceans by their birthright

are free

we all live in shells it seems to me

 

I heard the sermon on the mount

But after ten commandments

I lost count

It all just seemed too hard to get

The economy is thrashing under the weight of all the lies

Walking around 2007

 I made a last ditch attempt

to gain justice from finality

 

There ain't no pigs

in control of the farm

proletariat are worried

the birds are alarmed

the cockerels of the bourgeoisie

go cock of the walk

But its bread and circus'

they want

not God Knives and forks

There's sinews of power

struggling to be heard

Ain't nothing in particular

Sorry is a regular word

So frequent in the parlours

it's served with a cocktail

But the waitress is on strike

And I can't hear myself think

 

I stand by the piano

the blind tuners tinkering tink

the city is on fire

this is not where the judges come to drink

So I set down my own laws

in a tablet of stone

but they're easily broken

like human bone

They refer to the just wars

and pockets of rice

which America have borrowed

and so China look twice

It's a dirty plot

someone's running the game

but you 've gotta be in it

else you might go insane

 

When I walked to the hill tops

and walked in the bowers

the Chiming sounds of bells

I heard in the moral towers

 

Lords and lady's of the hedgerows

invited me to court

And there I lay with fairies

and dragonfly's me they escort

 

The tomes are shattered on the steps

the nightingale's song flows on

but like rivers' depths

the bird's drowned song

in tormented twists

like tormentile throngs

and jesters wear the masks of men

In animal spirits they rise again

The king is dead

the queen will follow

But so lives summer merrily

As she sleeps on the wing of a swallow

 

Ten thousand earths

are buried near

And human flesh is

soon to appear

 

on the coat of the stag

who does battle in spring

In the guise of a rat

who rattles like a Cobra king

mooring at the water's edge

where reeds mark man's emotions

like the scars of a lover's pledge

to die forever

or never live for tomorrow

As the forget me nots come out

I cannot feel ought but sorrow

 

Loneliness of youth

 What is this ? loneliness? - about?

 

You might meet me on the footsteps

You might see me on the train

You might leave me in the cupboard

or in the pouring rain

You might leave me with mother hubbard

or fry me on a stone

I might not look like an egg

But I crack like a bone

 

 

 

Has your mind been born

by bar maids braids

burnt like the skin

out of certain shades

Where sunlight reveals

the priests purples parades

When he throws down his herbs

and picked up more charades

 

Angel islington spit in my eye

the doves of paradise

have further to fly

if not for you

I would fall from the sky

And heaven becomes earth

the more that you try

There are words like coins

bushes of cherry

Born yesterday crusaders

In the pubs drinking merry

if you ask for an ambulance

I'd sooner walk by

I don't look at accidents

but they don't make me cry

I love you the emptiness

love is a loom

its wove into words

plucked from the moon

if you cancel out being

What makes the soul move

But a thought like a cherry

ripened in june

 

Blood lines

 

2006 -2008?

 

I've got legs but they don't stand for nothing

I've got hands

but they don't help enough

If I made eggs

they'd soon fabricate

But the firmament is not religious fervent (fer fur ferret firk)

And the occlusion

is like a veil of heaven

But its not thirsty plenty

its dry as bones

And the skeleton keys

play these ivory stones

But it doesn't hurt any

it doesn't hurt any

because I've my blood lines

that howl at the moon

 

There are no speech bubbles

that surround our heads

humans have cats lives

severed spines

And cats eyes

and dogs genes

for baying at the stars

and Shakespeare's nose

for sniffing at the moon

There are floating wrecks

that push out your blood

until the memes of society

suck dry the seas flood

And they take your soul

and sack the gold

they choose your words

like icey worms

that wriggle from your spirit

until the dog king danes

and the fiery princess

presses the flowers to the paper