Putting on a show

 It could be good,

It could be bad

It could be the best you've had

Oh putting on a show

And the lights were dazzling

Oh and the nights rizzle-razzling

Wait here's the Great pretender

Oh I could've been a contender

If I only crossed the line

Putting on a show

And the people are crowding

In the balconies and stalls

And the audience is rowdy

And you can hear the cat calls

You want what nobody asks for

You ask what nobody hears

What do you to wear so many masks for?

How do you conquer so many fears?

Putting on a show

Oh come and see the great pretender

He's performing himself

At hall near you

 He tried to be you

And that really fell through

So he climbed back into his old role instead

Putting on a show

Dangers of holidays

 There are dangers in this

There are dangers in that

There dangers to run, maybe a cat

There are reasons to be and there are reasons not to be

But we see there are dangers

Dangers in Life

Come on and break the wave

Of this falling, can'tyou be brave

Enslave, the craving, the craving

And delays to sunny days

Come and make the right waves

There are dangers to this

And yet there are dangers to that

The great house between me

CHRIST ABOVE and fills me with love

And we're walking through the rainbow

Of all this testimony

Make it leave or make it stay

There is nothing better

On a holiday with you

Make it leave or make it go

I will be there when the final whistle blows

I will be there at the end of the game

At the end of the line

Find me in the crowd

Of substitution shouting loud

A day score line at the end of the day

Finally they say there is only one way up

And one way down

On a holiday with you

Can't even say

Take me for what I am

Oh take me for what I'm not

Take me in a traffic jam

Take me off, take me in

The Christmas Market

 Oh the markets were open

Down Glastonbury way

And stalls beside the Abbey foundations

And the way that it came and the way that it sways

The shoppers fulfilled invitations

And parked their trolleys and baskets

And they filled them up to the brim

With presents and books

And old fashioned hooks

And pieces of blue fabric and of string

And they decorated their houses

And they pasted it up on the wall

And the Christmas shoppers

Came out in their thousands

Just to collect up the balls

This was the Glastonbury Market

The fair, the fair of the wares

And they came to see

Just what could be

Then they rushed off to finish their pears

A Night Out

 Beauty and grace are the enemy of old age

Music and dancing

Capture the moment

and bottle it

In all its exquisite beauty

It is in a hug

Or a simple touch

He danced with the tall one and 

The round

The bouncing bosoms

And the sound

Of the crowd

The Strings that were plucked

In the beat and the time

The tall and the short women

The Bodies of prime time

And moving under silk dresses

And sliding 

In their high heels

And tapping on the floor boards

And swaying of their draws

And the beating 

And the violin, the castanets

And the trumpets

Timpani-fandango

Ringing bars

And jugs of water

Filled like

Mountain lakes

And landscapes full

And swallows of mistakes

Flown far above the mottled plain

Out to

The care takers of Mars alone

And care of the colours of the green light

And the colours of the red

And the records ever playing

Going round and round my head

And I remember the pumping fists

And the reaching for the sky

And dancing next to somebody

And doesn't have to try

And the stroke and the beat

As the violins draw across the strings

In harmony that blew the roof off

The Top of the Hall

Dirty Street

 Take me to the mountain

Take me apart

Like the rock may I never break

My heart

Take me to the mountain

Sweeping

Up on dirty street can be a 

Hard place to beat

Meeting crowds and passing feet

All walking down Dirty Street

I wish that I 

Didn't live here

Wish I didn't have this job

This town is getting me down

To the point where I nearly sob

On Dirty Street

In rainy town

Where the pigeons keep

Flyin around

And the seagulls beak speaks

A harsh sound

On Dirty Street in Shepton Town

I don't know if I'll ever get clear

It's gonna take a lot of running

To get out of here

Because the cops pull you over and 

Look at you queer

On Dirty Street

You've got something to fear

On Dirty Street

I'm cleaning up my act

I'm gonna get myself together

And file all my facts

And put all my ducks

Out in a nice neat row

On Dirty Street

With the bright rainbow

In crowds

 In crowds, you never feel lonely

In crowds

you're never far out

In crowds

Anyone can be phoney

In crowds your anonymity isn't in doubt

Don't you float like a cloud

Above it all

Like a cloud in the crowd

In the dance hall

Don't you know you stand out

In crowds

In crowds, you can never feel lonely

In crowds they all sing and they shout

And this is life and life only

Now this must be what life's all about

Procession

Please tell us how to proceed
When there's no one to lead us
When there's no living prophet among us
No Jesus
Tell us how to pray in the night
When the dark conquers the light
And we walk like lost sheep in a crisis

Please tell us what to do when you need us to
Please shine your light, please shine your light

There's a raft in the river, and a queen is a quiver
Because her Kingfisher king is not near
And a far off fairy is singing to Queen Mary
Shine your light, please shine your light

And as I wade through the reeds
I can gather what I want, but it's not what I need
So please tell me how shall we proceed?

The doors of time are flung open
And it's like the whole world has awoken
But the black crows above are crowding a white dove
And the Blackbird is yet to have spoken

So when I get what I want, but not what I need
Oh lord, please tell me
How shall we proceed?

Out break

 Although you could say that I asked for this

The advance warning of your kiss

The night was young

I didn't know who is

Friend or enemy

Jerrymander or carpet bagger

Of the socio-political scene

Who am I kidding there was no Queen

The scene was a bar just after dark

The comedians on stage giving it their all

Being brave the crowd enthralled

Or not so be the case

It was a usual night of comedy

And the old hats brought out their new acts

And the fact checkers were counting their money

The fried dinners kept running in

Delivered by skinny bunnies

In Alcapone costumes

And I knew that something was up but I couldn't

Quite sniff it

So I kept my nose clean and my eyes down listening

Like in a Bingo ring

And yet again I listened

Envious of the cheers

The actors on stage were receiving,

Sneers or sniffles at first

kuffufles inwhich coughs fought with emergent laughs

In the throats of the nervous crowd

Who hadn't yet drowned out their

Nerves in beer or other beverage

Like myself

Though slowly the beer I had ordered and begun to drink

Started to take effect

And I took off my scarf

I relaxed from the cold

And began to chat to the woman with the dog

My companion for the evening

As if by magic,

By chance

She knew Dave the host

And my landlord

And I who had previously been half willing to accept his invitation of a spot

Was now getting cold feet

In fact the whole night hadn't given rise to anymore willingness on my part to perform

The larger numbers in the crowd than usual, their young age, all of this put me off

I wondered what true confidence was

To just get up on stage and act regardless

Perhaps my second beer had killed any false bravery or suicidal instinct I had to go up on stage

But the result was the same, since

When Dave came around and asked if I was going to perform

I declined.

My beer rested on the plastic wallet that contain my printed off poem

Printed from the afternoon,

That I had neglected and even the very sight of,

The very process of sorting or choosing a reading had

filled

my gut with nerves

I wondered what mental resources was needed for this kind of work.

I used to be a good little performer in school

But I do not think I ever really wanted to be

It was always what my dad wanted of me, for some reason

I suppose to break out of my shyness

It was a good idea,

Make friends

Make a statement

But it wasn't me

Perhaps this nerotic fool is what I am

destined to be forever

Without any recognition formally of the fact

Who cares

What does it matter?

Forty something, don't call it out

 Love forty-

40 love

40/15, need an ace

40/30 maybe enough

Over the line

Let, first service

Let, let me be

Let us pray

Let his love show

40/40

In the midst of life we are in death

Advantage life

I've served my time

Timed my serve

All in the toss and the fall of the ball

The spring and the shot

The lob and the call

Don't call it out

I love the game, don't worry about it all

set point

Match point

Rain stops play

But I want to see the end!

Cliff Richard, strawberries and cream

We're all going on a summer holiday

Hooray!

The net is always there blowing in the cross wind

The dividing line between you and me

Between life and death

Strawberries and cream

Just look at the crowd

Watching me and you

eyes back and forth

Don't take your eyes off the ball

Forty, each fight for a point

To score

To leave your name on the board

But just play for the love of the game

You're only forty after all

Looking glass

 I went into nature to see the birds

But all I saw were the crowds of people

So I went to the city to see the steeples

But all I saw were Empty streets

I went to the moon to look at the stars

But all I saw were parked up Tesla cars

So I went to the stars to see the universe

But all I saw was infinity run in reverse

So I went within to find myself

But all I saw were others reflected there

So I asked the others what can they see

They said behind the mirror they could see me

The travelling soul

In the hotel lobby, down the old country road

They say how are you Bobby? Be gone by the time the cock crows

 Well travelling is my hobby, by them it's well knowed

For it's alright by me, I have no fixed abode

No fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

Through this old lobby, where the cold wind blows

I'm not searchin' for diamonds, not searchin' for gold

I have no place to hide them, I have no fixed abode

There's a sign in the night stars, my true path I am showed

To listen to night jars that sing in hedgerows

And if what they sing of is iron bars which the caged bird knows

Well I'd rather breathe the free air and have no fixed abode

I hear them calling softly, down the old country road

They call to me often, where the sweet waters flowed

Where the lakes are like mirrors, and the sky is rain-bowed

And the shadows of my mistakes, they weigh a lighter load

For in the give and the take, they leave me no fixed abode

No fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

I walk past my old college, where my friends and I strode

It's a path I walked often down a long memory road

And I look to them for answers, but now they speak a foreign code

They say the past's walls are like a prison, instead try livin' 

at no fixed abode

no fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

It's a house on the hill, It's an mirage I am told 

But in its pursuit I am willing to give up pieces of gold

For all things time touches, it will bring into its fold

Like the beggar on wooden crutches who has no fixed abode

But the beggar is still a king, so long as promises aren't sold

And the king is but beggar if his dreams are only of gold

It's the place that time kills, but its road will lead to hell

I don't know if it be God's will to keep me sheltered well

But in my heart I am still, though its beating does tell

That I am afraid still to have no fixed abode

no fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

It's a face in the crowd, and a case in a court

Yes it's a man who once was proud, but now amounts to nought

It's a bitter taste in the mouth, after drinking sea salt

Its a soul in a river, washed out to sea

So he must be a sailor or King fisher, or else all a quiver he will be

He'll get the sea sickness, and he'll long for his home

But that would be a wickedness, for there is none, he's all alone

He has no fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

They say yes he was one I once knew well, now time's have past

And it's like looking down a well

And I look for my future but only hear my own echo

Calling don't put away your suitcase for you'll have no fixed abode

no fixed, no fixed,

No fixed abode

The address where I leave my hat

Is at no fixed abode

No light to guide me, but the light of the road

The address that I live at, is no fixed abode

No fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

The home where I'm living

Is named No fixed abode

I go where I'm getting,

And I get there alone

No two cents to rub together

There's no blood from the stone

If you take what I'm giving

Then you'll get what you're owed

Just come and find me

I'll be at no fixed abode

No fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

I'll meet you at the sign posts upon the crossroads

You go your way as I heard the cock thrice crowed

I'm going my way in the direction of no fixed abode

Now Jesus was a traveller, at least that's what I'm told

He walked many miles down the line which he toed

And there were few that followed him, but some who he rowed

Then he walked upon the water but had no fixed abode

Is it better to be travelling, than that you should arrive?

Well the way is unravelling, but I'm still alive

And I'll get where I'm going, in the end I'll get what I'm owed

When you see the rainbow glowing,  at no fixed abode

No fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

Will you buy what I'm selling?, well they call it paradise

And there is no there telling you, open your eyes

For the train is at the station, and so you better climb aboard

But you'll never reach your destination, at no fixed abode

At no fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

The mountains are rising, like suns in your eyes

And I see by your story, that hard travelling has its price

But we'll know in the glory that the road will entice

So be where you are going at no fixed abode

no fixed, no fixed, no fixed abode

Crowding in

Chewing on the match sticks
Of lighted bigotry
Walking in the thatched brick
Houses of England's purgatory
Sailing in the solid towns
Whose markets all are empty
Winging like an emperor's crown
Over the mounted sentry
All along the pallisades
Of a time wrecked crew
Fighting off the attacking gulls
Whose scurvy cries once flew

All the penny whistle arcades
All the penniless parades
Where ruffians and one-time maids
Are taking turns on the chew

I follow an inspector
Who is returning from some space
With a fear detector, smeared all over
His face
Panic is his protector, it keeps
Him in the race
To follow the crowd from morning's
Cloud, through bustle of bodies embrace
And he pushes past the working girls,
Past the drunks, and the ladies in lace
And he brushes his coat tails with
The girl's of some disgrace
And at midday the streets are thronging,
The squares have a heaving grace
And palpitating shopper mingle
In and out of their place

He follows some inside a shop
Of candles, and grease and pastes
And oils smell, and tinctures quell
The crowd in its rabid pace

And the afternoon wears on
Along side market stalls
With meat, hanging cured, and cutting
Tools, and the parambulators ambling trace
The parasols beneath sun scholes that dapples
Over his face, and soon this market
Packs up shop, folds up tables
Closes stops and
He is left like a hairless dog
Yelping on the pavement
And the rain falls down in feathers,
That soon turn into heavier things
That fetter in the wetter arches, that
Nestle in the Spring
That trickle down shirt collars,
And coats that are pulled round close
And his search becomes more desperate
As the shoppers leave their posts
They rush indoors inthis street, so he
Wanders on through corridors
Of darkened ways and alleys
Broken by cats and aunt Sally's
And Salvation armiests appraise him
They accost and pull him in
This old man for whom the life blood
Seems to be drawing thin
But emerging again in another street
Where crowd is swelling still
He heaves his sigh of relief
And swims in for his fill
Is he a thief
I cannot tell
I see no sleight of hand
Unless he robs them of themselves
No wealth worth more to man
Is he a criminal intent on
Stalking blood or murder
When it comes to night will
His blood lust rise will
His victims fall foul of this herder
Yet he is not picking pockets,
Though others around him do
Though he is jostled,
He is bumped, he yet has hustled
From a burgeoning due
Like time and taste have drawn him
As if a deadline right on queue
Ever drawing nearer, never ending
He must pursue

Only free in dreams

The bags blow down by the river
And the ducks paddle through the stream
Mud cakes up on trees, and I am only free
Oh we are only free in our dreams

The cheering crowds shout for the footballer
To score his hat trick in the half hour
Oh but if he were true he'd be a golfer
Pushing caddy trollies over flowers
Yes we are, we are, we are only free in our dreams

Everytime I sung to you I knew
The great moose in the sky was looking down
Every beaver in Canada had on his brow
A certain frown
Now they're blocking up the streams
With their logs and trees
And we are only free
In our dreams

I shot a bullet hole through the wall
And the air whistled in cold and clear
I always knew someday I'd fall
But I never knew that day'd be so near
Yes we are, we are, we are only free in our dreams

Come lay beside me honey take your rest
Your feet are so weary and so cold
You've been walking far beyond, beyond your best
And now you need a love that's bold
The animals are howling in the wild
It quiet in the wood, it is so old
And I am going there to follow the stream
Where I am only free in my dream

There tonight

Well the sun is down
And the light comes on
And you need someone
Just to hold you tight
Well don't be afraid to call
There's no need to write
Just pick up the phone
And I'll be there tonight

In a sandy plain when the wind is savage
And the passengers compain
In the railway carriage
Don't walk out into the storm
Just sit tight
Think of me as your all
And I'll be there that very night

In the super city
Where the crowds are so busy
You can lose your soul
You can lose the fight
Just keep control
Just hold tight
I'm on a roll
And I'll be with you tonight

Death Cafe

What was Death like in school?
Was he a Goth, or a rebel or a sloth
Was he a lone ranger
Was death a she, a difficult person
tipping the cloth
Did anyone tell Death not to talk to strangers?
Did anyone try to make friends with death, try
To sit down in a cafe and just shoot the wind
Did anyone ever really get under death's skin?
What were death's parents like?
Night and Chaos
Now that must have been an awkward family set up
Perhaps at home they got on like a house on fire
But honestly I doubt it

Perhaps Death was prone to running away
He did not like his father's terrible rages
And sometimes when his mother entered his room
Like a wraith, he thought hang on
Someone's turned the pages
Put me back in the plot for a spot
I'm lost like a ghost in science fiction movie
I'm out of this world
Yet tied down by its chains
Things can be strange surely they can be rearranged
I guess, I'm only guessing though

Perhaps he was very well behaved in school
Not the one slouching over his desk
Perhaps he was first class
A high flyer
The person everyone just loved to hate
Or thought would do terribly well at his job
And imagine this you death snobs
Death must know virtually everything
There's not a corner of this world he hasn't
Globe trotted to
Neither is there an inch of our Psyche
He hasn't gained access to
He has a VIP card for most Venues
After all he's very well connected
He has a large extended family

Psyche in fact is a cousin of his
Quite often they have been enemies
Another mother, and an aunt per chance
He spends his summer holidays with
While Night is too busy in Arctic Norway
To look after him
Is Dementia
She can be a bit of a pain
Always forgetting his birthdays
Death days - she jokingly calls them
Sometime she even slips into a rage
You can't control her like a banshee world wind
Sometimes she's like a child playing with
Pomegranite seeds
Slipping them in and out her mouth
Not sure whether to eat them
But all this was decided long before her
By her mother -Mother Nature -The Four Seasons

And so Death goes out and trudges through the snow
Leaving no footprints anyone would know
- he's carbon neutral
And Politically inert
Though as a teenager he'd wave a banner of protest
Get under the shirt of Chaos his father
Who is busy causing merry hell in Parliament
Losing elections, rigging votes
Generally carpet bagging, gerrymandering
Pandering to the electorate
And making unwanted approaches to Elektra
his intern for the season

Death would come back from these marches
Down in the mouth, in need of a coffee
Or something stronger
And so he would lurch into a cafe
To fall in conversation with strangers
Just to talk about the word on everyone's lips, but his
(because he had none)
Him
That is one of his faults
He loves talking about himself too much
And so does everybody else
But they won't admit it to eachother
No neither themselves
Most of the time
Apart from on their own (or perhaps with their mother)
Because in crowds they talk about Life
'Being Alive' his son
'Lively' and Live-Wire the successful daughters
Vibrant, Life's wife
then Thriving and Full of Life
Really they are quite a smug family thought death to himself
But then he had Sex
And Sex and Death got married
Night and Chaos were so happy
And their first child Violence
well, he was a bit of a disaster,
No sorry Disaster was the second child
Then there came Calamity Jane
Doubt and Betrayal
And they had a whale of a time
It is a shame thought Death that this all had to End
But in Ending there is a Beginning
That is the cycle of Birth and Death
Birth, I suppose, being their unwanted twin
Who was adopted by the Life family
And went on to have many children of her own (thankfully)
Still Death likes to talk now and then in cafes
Sometimes in more private places
And you have to give him space
To have his say
You have to invite this guest to your table
Because he's there anyway in the background
And you'll have to make friends with him
one day
Perhaps not today though
Hey?

All at once I saw you

All at once I saw you
Like in a dream
Some vague notions of forgiveness
Mixed in an unrighteous stream
But its all on the dark side
Cold in the shadow of a mountain
Those mountains of youth
That just do not move
And won't allow you to love

So I brought you back to that mountain
and gave you a shovel and spade
And told you to start digging
A hole for forgiving
One tunnel that will let light into the shade

Some nights it seems so distant
That train whistle in the grove
The darkness in the valley of the thistle
Where the wild heather grows

Some nights it seems so invisible
Like ghosts, revealing themselves
Through the eves of the past
To make your love last
Down among the sleeves of book shelves

All at once I saw you
Like the moon from behind the clouds
Like I knew you were there
Some forest with a bear
Some trees with the thickness of crowds

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