Pylon talk

 Pile on the pressure

Power to the people

Cross the T's, and dot the eyes

I'm blindsided by this indifference 

To the countryside

 

Along came a giant striding

Jack was out milking his cow

His magic beans they needed dividing

But nobody really knew how

Yet he dropped them in the garden and

Overnight they grew

A giant bean stork

That reached up to the sky of blue

 

 

And they marched these Angels of energy with wings out spread

These Atlases of wires carrying their skipping ropes in stead

Walking the rope bridge

The tight rope line

To bring power to the people

Time after time

 

Some say they are moths

Waiting for the right moon

To unfold their wings

And take flight

Up into a burning light

Like Icarus who fell

They will never quite touch the sun

That travels along their poles

These cold white giants

Will hum like tubular bells

And fill the levels with their Angelic singing tones

Their nuclear hymns

And ringing carols

Of Christmas tree lights

And Fairy spells

Whose homes they have trod on 

And angered in dells

And dips and alcoves, hillocks and streams

And if you touch them at night

They may harvest your dreams

 

But Jack the giant slayer is not afraid

Pylon the pressure he said, he says

I will lift up my axe and fell the great trunk

And the giants will fall from the sky like drunks

 

Wrinkly crinkly Hinkley will wrap

And shrivel up like a crumpled crisp packet

Under the imploding electrical surge

And outage will shout "Age" for all concerned

And Youth will not tumble, youth will not burn

And the sun will keep shining until we have learned

That we cannot eat star dust

Or travel to space

That our planet is dying

And we must make haste

For the flowers in the field yet bloom

And I think I have heard a sonic boom

As we planned the future

But it decided itself

These are the best laid plans

Of mice and men

Counting the miles

 I was travelling on the Orient Express 

Working as a stoker to earn my passage.

I wanted to get to Istanbul,

But we stopped off in Budapest

Then Bucharest

The rest is history

 

Well somewhere about Cluj Napoca

A strange man walks on board

A little stiff

Like he had a splint for a neck

He sits down

Calling himself The Count

I think I heard this one

before

But the thoughts don't mount

 

Soon the passengers start dropping like flies

I don't know the body count

But it was pretty high

And they all seemed to have been given

Two inoculations to the neck

The anti-vaxxers said

That was just what they'd expect

The vaccine is a killer

Well, the truth is far from that

For when he alighted from the train

I noticed the Count was rather fat

"There are more calories in a pint of blood he said

Than in a pint of beer, did you know?"

I said "I didn't know that, no",

Then he said "And who might you be young man?"

Well who is it who wants to know who I am?

Count Vlad said he, as meek as a lamb

Indeed you see he was a Siam

Or perhaps a twin of one who came from Japan

"Well of course then kind gentleman Sam

My trade is Stoker and my name be Bram"

"Unusual", said he "for such name to travel

One had thought it would stay home on the gravel"

And not gravy and stir the newly passing year

Well said I, I heard Istanbul is nice about now

I'd like to see the Blue Mosque and circle the prow

I'd like a dip in the Bosphorus and to see and delight

In the Turkish city's quarters in the midst of the night

 

"I too", said the Count "would like to explore that foreign world

Which is why I have travelled with gold and with pearls

You see a lifetime of living has set me quite dead

With the hum drum voices of pageantry and dread

I've heard too many screams and too many calls

To fill my dreams like a nightmare's halls

And instead, I want to drift down consciousness' stream

And out to Xanadu with the restless bream

I want to let go of this Romanian Rowel

I want to throw the dice, let them fall where they fall

Will you gamble with me friend come and seek out a night?

For in the shadows, they are hiding my Turkish delights"

 Well, I said "Count if you promise to behave

I'll go along quite easy though I'm not looking for my grave

I wish to have some fun and paint the town pink

With that he bit a currant bun, and I watched his teeth sink

In quite deep and noticed their length

I thought to myself now Bram how unusual their strength!

They seemed to be capable of biting through a shoe

With that I commented "Count, I'll see what I can do

When I get off at Istanbul, I’ll get cleaned up then find you."

“A deal it is” he said it kind of sly

And I thought I could see the glint of a silver moon in his eye

But now I thought I'd leave it and turned back to stoke the boiler

One day I thought I'd write a book and don't want to tell a spoiler

 

So that was how me and the Count we got well acquainted

I must say I found his ways quite strange, a little antiquated

But none the less we made it some twenty hours later

Across the Bosphorus strait, that lovely stretch of water

And the heady lights and sounds of Istanbul bit us like a bug

As like more passengers seemed to drop dead in the grip of a death hug

I counted myself lucky to have made it with the virus going round

And as I stepped off the sinking ship, I felt like the last rat who hadn't drowned

 

Istanbul was pretty amazing in its ways, the sights and sounds of markets

The smells wafted up in a maze,

I felt lost and found all at once, and gladly fell into deepest slumber

As the stars they whirled in wonder

Around and round

The fires grate was spitting, when revived I came to sitting

And remembered of my promise to the Count

It seemed so strange yet fitting, to be here with one so noble

Yet my brow was knitting as to how me and him might dance the paso doble

When something isn't right it's wrong

 Oh you were eating so very very well

And all the times were fleeting

Down the wishing well

But you kept eating, yes you kept on tweeting

Yes you kept on meeting very well

If something isn't right

Then that must mean it's wrong

So I'll leave this very night

And take off with my song

Like a bird into flight

Who now must travel for so long

But oh when we were loving

We loved so very long

But when something gets broken

You don't live with a token

Yes when something isn't right

Then it's wrong

When we were soldiers

 Chalk and cheese were soldiers

When they went to war

Chalk went first into the fold

Cheese followed there after

They were inseparable

Brothers they were in arms

Oh, when we were Soldiers

When we were soldiers

When we were back on the farm

 

When the bombs fell in the East

Chalk went fighting the front

While Cheese fought foreign beast

Oh, but they had the same want

Keep me with my brother Cheese

Chalk said to Commander and master

But the commander set them East to West

And that was to be a disaster

 

Chalk was proud but never let on

He had loved the same woman

Back in their hometown

And Cheese was humbler and just

Kept his head down

In his heart he wanted Zita for his crown

 

And the days rubbed on

And the war did vanish

When they each returned home

The farmland was famished

Zita held them both in her arms

And they knew they were back on the farm

 

Oh, when we were soldiers,

What a time we had

Dashing headlong into the fray

When we were soldiers

All time stood still

We could never quite believe

We'd see this day

 

And Zita loved Cheese

But she loved Chalk still

Oh, and when the sparks flew

She thought of herself to kill

But Cheese married her

In that Church on the hill

And Chalk came tumbling after

 

Chalk fell down 

In every tavern in the town

The great war hero

Brought low

What deeds he had dared

On the field of warfare

The townsfolk weren't full to know

And too proud was he to boast

But a bitterness grew in his heart

Though he always was their toast

 

And Cheese had a family with Zita

And the bats flew out just to meet her

But the dark foreboding sky

Meant she thought she might die

On their next trip down to the coast

 

Chalk took a wife over the border

And they travelled down there to order

A home in the forest with the mountains

Looking by

And Zita felt the weight of the world

On her thigh

As she sat her child there to suckle him

By and by

I will name him Chalk after her father

And Cheese raised a stink

And went racing after 

Chalk, his brother in arms

Now enemies back on the farm

 

Chalk fought Cheese

Across Mountain trail

In the shadows of the great Transylvanian

Woods

And the pines did sway

And the wolves did wail

And the sword pierced Chalk’s heart

And that wasn't good

 

The chalk man fell like a tree in the forest

Geronimo cried the axman and the bears cried out

And Cheese's heart melted, and tears fell 

From his eyes 

And his soul grew dark under

Transylvanian skies

 

And he lived locked in his castle

For he had committed fratricide

To kill his own brother

No atonement could abide

And Zita raised two children

One Chalk and one Cheese

For each had a father

Who in their hour of need

Had answered the call of their country

And for their country did bleed

When they were soldiers

 

When we were soldiers

She sings to them

When we were soldiers

And lullaby’s them to sleep

Spring Street

 They're sweeping up the leaves on Spring Street

Tidying away the trash

Painting it all in a varnish

White washing their laundry and cash

They're cleaning out the cupboards on Spring Street

Making room for a new family to move in

Leaving their reasons on the door step

Throwing their letters in the bin

The workmen are fixing the pipes

The arabs drink outside costa coffee

After one of them nearly got in a fight

With a man over who was wrong and who was right

"I was alone!" he kept shouting, passers by stop and watch

in the street

On the otherside of the road, they are all white

Oh they're sweeping up the leaves on Spring Street

The leaves keep falling on Spring Street

And my time is nearly done

The London road so busy under

A clouded sun

Red buses passing so gently,

Like ships in the night

Geezers and wheezers and two-time sneezers

Squeezing by left and right

And Spring Street is telling its story

Like a year that turns on without proof

That tomorrow all this will look different

That tomorrow we'll live a new truth

There are race wars down on Spring Street

White washing walls and blackening teeth

The French harangue Nelson's Column and greet

The Spaniards who fill Trafalgar square beneath

The Germans are daisy bombing all the banks

Shy dalmatian dogs are begging for homes giving thanks

To the carriages and scooters, and pizza delivery boys

Who are dropping them crusts as babies drop toys

And Spring street is looking lovely this time of year

As winter makes a mockery of flower sellers

And street singers recite sonnets of Juliet

And Romeo is on his balcony shaving his chest

And the circus is holding a strongman contest

Who is the most freakish, who's strength will win the day

Saint Crispin rides a steel mare upon the copper chains that lay

Around the step of the museum where sweet children play

And Spring Steet is looking quite clean this way

 

In the circus all kinds of animals are there

Elephants in castles in long suited trousers

And penguins who dance in pairs

I took a trip on the circle line

and found an anathema there

How could I be travelling straight

While I was going round and round?

It was all too much for me to believe

And then I saw Paddington bear

He had made a home for himself on the platform

And the stations of Charing cross were there

I counted old Kentish town and an opprobrium

As the farmers' step wives all lived there

The dogs were selling newspapers in the stands

And I bought one for a paw-pound

He said put the lines back in the prison

For that is where the sentence is found

A rabbit hopped on the rails of the barley

And swayed as the tannoy announced

The next train at platform three is

The two fifteen to Plymouth

And I stepped on the rights of the fare

Spring Street was smiling in the cold light

And Samantha had cut off her hair

Samson was her barber in the Turkish restaurant

Where fat men and young girls sat so fair

I tried to piece together the puzzle

Of its myriad strands and wefts

And I with cloven hoof and cleft palate

Let King Oedipus disappear

The ships will go down out of sight

As the horizon is gathering sunlight

And the broken eggshells of Spring Street

Show the first path where new lambs bleat 

Travelling tears

 Hear that steam whistle blowing

Over the hills and through the wind

Hear it blowing for you and for him

Hear it blowing for you and for him

And it will blow through the leaves and through the trees

And it will blow through the cobweb of the years

And it will shunt up the tracks ever going

And it will be like the travelling tears

It will ever go from midnight til the morning

And blow through the hills and trees

And yes you can hear that steam train blow out its warning

For it's crying those travelling tears

And sometimes joy in the joining of two people

Sometimes force through the course of the years

Sometimes loss in the pain of separation

Oh they're departing with travelling tears

In the heat in the hour of conversation

They can speak on the platform standing near

And if you wait there for me at the station

You'll be crying those travelling tears

Yes you can hear the steam train blow out its warning

It is a hoot, a toot through the years

It says decide on your final destination 

Or you'll feel those travelling tears

Or you'll shed those travelling tears

In the truth of the pale last question

You can ask me about all my fears

Well I'll know when you meet me at the station

You will cry those travelling tears

You will cry those travelling tears

The heart's road

 When I go away I try to forget

All of those pieces of memories of regret

When I go away I can hold them at arm's length

And say you cannot hurt me, you cannot touch me

You cannot hurt me today

But I always come back, back to the fold

To the font of the cradle of birth

I always return to the home and the hearth

And the place where I first knew the hurt

Now you can be travelling a long weary time

You can be holding his hand or mine

And this can be our way together or apart

But that's just the road of the heart

When I am travelling down the country mile

I look for the clouds, then I burst into a smile

When the sun is all shining and the birds are in song

Then I'm reminded that nothing is wrong

When I am travelling along a steep hill

And the ridges are vast with an emptiness that chills

Then I see your hand in the sky high above

And I know it's all just a plan of your love

When I am travelling through dale and through den

And the trees they grow over and they are my ken

I know you're near me, because I feel at ease

With the summer behind me and the autumn's breeze

When I am travelling far from my home

I can forget all of those feelings I own

Nothing is stronger than the pull to return

From where I've been travelling the heart's road that burns

International Shopping Spree

 He was an international man of mystery

Then I think I saw him in Sainbury's

Next I saw him in Denmark

But he was pushing a shopping cart

Then they spotted him in Peking

Alas he was only doing his shopping

So we can conclude he likes food and travel

Not such a mystery then to unravel

Except next they saw him at an assassination

He was holding the culprit with indignation

Then he peered out behind the president

Helping the first lady with her rosette

The election was rigged

But it wasn't by him

His portfolio was loaded, it wasn't so slim

And all of them figure he had pulled the trigger

But he would snigger like Lord Jim

I was in iceland or Asda

I was wave-wasted in the bay of Bisque

Marooned off Camaroon in an Aucean 

The pigs had trotted off their schemes

To scheming ponies facing evergreens

And dogged determination 

Linden Johnson held his wenel schnitzer

Out for a Pulitzer prize

But oh I do surmise

A fall in plates

That stacked up on his garden gates

And swollen pride

And blushing brides in Eden

And Baden Powell

Told holy goats

To accost a cow on 

Dalmatian coasts

And more lured now

Than gory horrow

Of Hollywood Sundays With Mother Coyboys

Being abducted by Alien cows

Who are getting their

Own back on wiser brows

And beaten vows of rice pudding

Who are drowning now in 

All do - gooding

And cubbing, and clubbling

And cudding the pastures 

That roll

All the statures of stauettes enrole

Pfizer profiterole

Of profits in the first quarter of doom

It would be better if it never ended

For the vaccinators boom

But what bust, what straight jacket of trust

Can be wener scnitzel twisteed

Like a Pretzel, or into one

Gobenhetzel

Messerscmit bomber

Google dropper

Bouncing babies

Into a covid dam

But the jam has freezed and so are we

In the sea, the sea

Journey to the East

 I'm on the midnight ferry from Dover

But I can't stop until it's over

Through the spider web of chance

I took my leave to visit France

And all the castles of the Sailing sea

All the shadows hanging over me

From Harfleur to Dunkirk

I left my home in rainy Southport

Well the road lay down in front

And Belgium and Brussels

they were stunts

all I needed was an actor

But what they gave me was a doctor

And the cure was inside of me

As the shore was sure beside the sea

Next the Autobahn of Germany

And the vignettes from BMW

But the man didn't speak a my language

So I lay on a park bench and wept

In exhaustion and fumes from car jets

And the wash of lorries

That drilled like insects

Into the very earlobes you see

As I sped down the E40

Only stopping to meet a friend

A fellow traveller where our paths did wend

And he a carpenter

Like Jesus Christ

Who carried a coffin for his sacrifice

To lay in wooden walls

And think of trees

As he slept in cannabis obscurity

But no rest for the wicked

And the devil drove me

On through picket white fence country

And lederhosen pastorality

Into the Danube bend near Regensburg

Where I took my rest

Like a falcon takes his perch

To lie on pavements

To catch a snatch of sleep

Where Gypsies

ruled the night parking lots

And East Europeans smoked and scuffed

Their trainers against curbs

The morning brought me creaking

To my knees

To pray for good travelling

Of the iron seas

As the tarmac stretched out perfectly

And Austria beckoned

Debts

Of all St Thomas' virtuosity

I met Vienna by the suburbs

And burbled like a spring water reaching surface in Hungary

Where I breathed a sigh of relief

To have a arrived with

Time to spare

Then drove to that county fair of Veszprém's

Sweet climes

And then we saw dragons

Before the flood

And then there were Dragons

And after the time

Of the rolling wagons

And I caught a mouse inside it's wheels

And the mouse did squeak

And the wheel squealed

And the spokes did speak

And the folk did feel

That it was no joke

That life was a wound that would not heal

Because before the flood there were no wagons

Then we started our journey

And it was then that we saw dragons

And St George did come

For we needed a dragon slayer

And saint Joan did hum

As we needed a scale player

And we played down the back of the dragon's keys

And he sang in his scales

But he never scaled me

Because when we were one, we were giants back then

Tall as house and eaters of men

And they sang as they doused their moustaches with wine

Of the sheep that they'd stolen, and then swallowed the swine

But the giants had never before seen a dragon

And wagons were rolling to the westerly horizon

And the days were getting longer, and the clouds were long streaks in blue

And above them soared the dragons that I had looked right through

It had been in a time of mists and of magic

And they swallowed the pill of drug that was tragic

That hazy pot of gold at the end of the rainbow

That cure for the world's soul, that takes happiness out of shadow

And the clouds parted then as the sun burst through

Surprising the giants who had just knawed through

The bones of a pleasant neanderthal man

Who had been operating machinery at a poetry slam

And he got his fingers caught in the web of a spider

And he began to talk and walk like he was an outsider

So soon they cast him out of bounds for the best

And he became a traveller to the grounds of the west

River out of Eden

I was running up the riverbed dry

She was naked lying in her bed

Her stones had not bled, and she could not cry

Her dress of water was locked in store

And she was cold lying on the floor

 

I ran up the Biddle combe brook

And it gave to me a sideways look

Who are you to trample on my bones?

Can't you see I lie alone

 

I need no other to claim my throne

Or cast about my care-worn stones

I am nature the mother grown

But no other shall me own

 

And in ripples and in childish tides

Her water dress trickled down over her thighs

And filled the dry bed where once she was wed

With its web-locked fingers, and its fluidity spread

And curled in crispness of a fresh salad bed

 

And I leapt like a monkey out of her flow

Her water cress dress would have swallowed me whole

In her water-caress I was a fungi

And I could listen to her glamorous story

Glistening soft as a velvet Jew’s ear

Of how she joined the Gulf stream

To travel away for a year

 

But she returned in the rain clouds

Heavy and all out of sorts

He had left her near the Isle of Iona 

For a Madagascan or Chilean sport

 

So she returned to her hilly spring 

She dressed herself in black,

And she lay in ground waters low in the basin

Of the Mendip hill's cavernous crack

 

She stayed like a widow in mourning 

She lay in a suicide pact

With the stalactites and stalagmites adorning

Her chamber of echoing fact

She called to her own deep reflection

And she spoke with the mirror of the cave

And it said you are the source on inspection

It is only from you we can make waves

 

So, go out into the world once again

When the cold air will not turn you to ice

And be like the river of Eden

That runs out through paradise

River of Eden

 I was running up the river bed dry

She was naked laying in her bed

Her stones had not bled, and she could not cry

Her dress of water was locked in store

And she was cold lying on the stone floor

I ran up the Biddle combe brook

And it gave to me a sideways look

Who are you to trample on my bones?

Can't you see I lie alone

I need no other to claim my throne

Or cast about my care-worn stone

I am nature the mother grown

But no other shall me own

I looked about and saw 

The folly of the broken door

And just as if the river was smarter

I started to hear the sound of laughter

And in ripples and in childish tides

Her water dress trickled down over her thighs

And filled the dry bed where once she was wed

With its web-locked fingers, and its fluidity spread

And curled in crispness of a fresh salad bed

That springs up after the first rains 

And I like a leaping monkey had to jump out her way

Or her water dress would have swallowed me up

In her water cress-caress I was a fungi

Soft as a velvet Jews ear

And I could listen to her glistening and glamorous stories

Of the time she joined the Gulf stream

To travel for a day and a year

But she returned in the rain clouds

Heavy and all out of sorts

He had left her near the Isle of Iona of course

For a Madagascan or Chillian sport

So she returned to her hilly spring 

She dressed herself in black,

And she lay in ground waters low in the basin

Of the Mendip hills limestone cavernous crack

She stayed like a widow in mourning 

she lay in a suicide pact

With the staligtites and staligmites adorning

Her chamber of echoing fact

She called to her own deep reflection

And she spoke with the mirror of the cave

And it said you're the source so remember

It is only from you we can make waves

So go out into the world once again

When the cold air will not turn you to ice

And be the river of Eden

That runs out through paradise

A Telling Time

 I've been out the back of the wrongside of tomorrow

And I've gotten back what I beg, steal or borrow

And although I might lack the eyes to see through sorrow

When my tears dry, where they lead I must follow

And nature cried in the heartland of the sun

The creator tried to bury what he had begun

But bring forth Mary, bring back Jesus the son

And all of those quarries of moon rock by the ton

They fill up my stocking, they go knocking at my door

They slide down the bannister, of the memories of before

And pull open the cannister, the rocket ship that endures

Through space I'm now the traveller to a love I adore

I see her in the gardens, in the pearly realms

Where queens walk in the park under the boughs of Elms

And who knew their shoulder sparks would hold tight the helm

As the nation's ship goes sailing, though darkness overwhelms

She is my Captain, I am her slave

And as we go sailing through disaster, I try to master each wave

But if someone throws me a lifeline, I know it's myself I must save

And in the process rescue all my hopes and dreams from the grave

Timeways

 If she could have waited, if she could have stopped

And seen what she was walking into

But that plate glass window

Of the future

Hit her square in the nose

She could see through it

But she could not touch the otherside

It was a bar to her outside world

And memory works like that

Memory of the event

Of the frame, the piece of time we call now

We say instant

But what is our concept of time  - but based on memory

And what is memory but an image, a sound or a smell

A taste, but what does it evoke

But a time,

So is time the conscious experience of the thing

Or the thing itself in space

And is time the bundle of emotions

Felt at her embrace

Or the unachievable other, the perfection in its place

Our idealized psychological conception

Of all the unrequited desires that we trace

Or our own projection of ourselves

Onto that other person's face

So what is time?

Why can the reality of now not be returned

Through some alchemy of science and art

To that sacred past

That hallowed space in youth

But it never can because in truth

Everything we have we lose

And yet light can travel at such a pace

That time seems not to pass through grace

And in this quantum intuition

Is where God and love can trace

And cross paths to weave a whirl wind

That connects beings across this great divide

So that feelings cannot hide

And all the martyrs who have died

Are reborn

And all the loves that ever danced at dawn

Are sworn again, not in vain

Nor in anguish or the pain of fear of loss

But to bear the cross

Of knowledge of this truth

As lightly as they bear the touch of rain

Upon their shoulders, on their roof

And in the soldier's heart

In the solders of the circuits of his brain

The electrons rearrange

And he sees her as if he always knew her

And always would in this way 

Covid Coracles 3 - tipping the iceberg

 Ok so it's the end of the iceberg

Democracy has been frozen

But now we have the ice pick in Biden

And Trump has gone off again

blowing his own trumpet

But there will soon be too few people

To listen

The Champagne is on ice

The real pain is twice

As bad as that imagined

By those in paradise

But noone can travel there anyway

Under the Covid restrictions

So, so long Saigon

And the paddy fields

They've brought all the chocolate ducks

For the old folks' meals

Well it's been a golden girl reunion

For all that we feel

But Cronos the Titan father

Still eats his young

And cantilever brakes are applied to 

The economy by a prime minister

Who would rather be in prison for petty larceny

Than be the one responsible for this high scale

robbery of democracy

But hold on says Trump- the unfortunate one

You stole my line -that's my one

I invented cruelty, lying and malice

I gave you all the rabbit holes

Like I was your Alice

And you were my mad hatter

who had gone bananas

Down at the Havana restaurant

Where the Mayor of New York

Julianni, he knows what he wants

But it's not on the menu

Only a sting operation

Of the greatest retinue

And in Avenues of pines

Who continue to cross over the line

From Mexico to El Paso

Juaez to Miami

We are sticking to the numbers game

And counting our names

Like we don't know who to blame

And just blame the blacks or the Jews

or the Catholics or gypsies

But we see that is only the tip of the iceberg

It is only balanced on a razor blade's edge

If you really want to know

Who won the election

Just talk to your neighbour

over your hedge

The Journey underground -Jack in the box part 4

Bringing the skull on my shoulder

As I walk over the hills

Crossed rivers filled with boulders

Candles lit in windowsils

People stayed at home

But I walked the edge of the knife

Walking though never alone

Half way between death and life

Two heads are better than one they say

And this skull he was no exception

As day after day he guided me on

Night upon night gave me direction

Soon we came to a gully, with moss, and

grain on the ground

I followed a  trail that led like a snail

To a small house standing unsound

"The keeper of this Tavern", he said

"He will know where they buried the dead"

And I looked up at the sign hanging aloft

The Magician's rest was flashing on and off

It was too late now, I was stepping over the threshold

Would this be the test of the story the skull had told?

I decided in a flash, to conceal my bony stash

And tucked him under my arm in a headhold

What have you got there, the inn keeper spoke

As I approached the bar, my anticipation broke

Oh just a skull I am carrying, to reunite it with it's body

The whole company turned and faced me, I felt bashful in it's scrutiny

"A body, ye say?", "Aye", said I

"One without a head, have ye heard of it? " My accent I could but try

"Neigh", said the publican, and crestfallen was I

Even my skull companion, looked more ashen in complexion

Until a rosy cheeked jug swiller, piped up from his stupor

"You must be talking of the bodiless head of Spencer Hall!"

"The very same, my good man", and I fixed him with my gaze

The skull, who was disheartened, soon found his mirth raised

"Except", I said, "it be the headless body for which I am a-searchin"

"Yep that be the one," he said, "I can take ye to it," he said, swayin' and lurchin'

I surreptiously placed the Skull on the bar, in order to have consultation

The bar tender, looked a little quizzical from afar, but still served us with the usual salutation

"What do you think?", I spoke under my breath

"I say he looks trustworthy enough, come on drink up or you'll soon catch your death

At that he drained his cup, but it didn't go as smoothly as some stuff

Come on I said, tucking him under my arm, I think you've had enough

And this pub has lost its charm

I collared the pretender, waved the bartender

And we left in a dramatic whirl

The pub buzzing behind us, my head in a swirl

At the same time we were followed by a girl

The uncouth one, whom we followed, he led

Moved confidently through the forest

So with torches we sped

The land it seemed was property of an old lord

Who went by the name of Spencer

His family had lived here since the 15th Century

It was said he was a dramatic contender

So spoke our guide, as he wound his way

Through briar thick clumps, deadly nightshades

Until at last we came to a woodland glade

Running along beside were orchids in purple shade

And then it opened to a clearing

Where a mausoleum stood

Strangely ancient hidden in the wood

Cracked, fissured, enambled and marbled

A wood chuck chuckled, a song thrush warbled

And darkness grew and the moon like tempered steel

Shimmered,

A dog in the distance barked, and from a hillside

A house light glimmered

And we had to huddle closer not from the cold

But the natural inclination in a darkening wood

To stir our heart to be bold

The mausolem was lit from outside by candles

But no door was there just a stone slab cracked and man-handled

Behind though it was noticed that a track ran up a hill

The ground there of seemed recently disturbed by footsteps

And evidence was there still

As we ventured round the ancient looming ruin

We could hear the sound of some singing

And smell the scent of something brewin'

Light there was also, but a strange and gloomy hue

As if the earth had opened up and let out purple smoke from a flue

The bravest among us - the skull, knew exactly what to do

We must venture up this winding trail, then he said "after you!"

Knowing then that here must be the end to all our earthly searchin's

I tremolously stepped up to that road where the nightly ghouls were lurkin'

I saw in one glance, after passing many a way crossing branch

That what we had stumbled upon in the Zenith of its carry-on

Was somekind of a witches coven

I will describe the scene. In the foreground was a clearing

To the rear was a deep black cave upon whose walls three shadows were learing

In the middle was where a tree stump smouldered

And all around large smooth rocks bouldered

And these gave amplification to their crooked demonic wailing

A man was there also one of fine dandyish attire

And in the centre a giant Centaur with a wooden spoon stoking the fire

I leapt back upon the sight and hid myself in the undergrowth

But the skull still wished to watch some more and so we crawled closer both

Upon our closer inspection we noticed another body slumped

But horrifyingly it seemed a skeleton instead of a head a pumpkin lump

The witches they were travelling all around the cauldron

That bubbled and that boiled in its fiery witchy oven

Who is the man do you think? I whispered to the skull

He is Lord Spencer the First Earl of this Manor Spencer Hall

But how can that be in flesh and bone, he must be over 300 years old

Three hundred and seventy one all being told

I knew him when he was thirty two

Then what could he want with a skeleton there?

And what of those old hags with the greasy hair?

What has happened is what I have long suspected

That the young Lord wishing never to be rejected

Made vanity his key vice in life, and learnt the occult ways of human sacrifice

To pay the price that the devil asks so he may forever wear youth's mask

Oh my gosh, I exclaimed aghast, and whose skeleton is that there

That watches the task?

That my kind Sir, is yours truly, it is Miklos Kundra's body

reassembled duly

"Yours, but how, how can that be?"

"Because, my boy, my body was invested with a magic quality

A spell I once cast near the fountain of youth

Gave me beauty and long life and there is the proof

He is the one, who rigged my box to break, he is the undoer of my mortal fate

And under him all cruelty made a darker turn

He twisted my magic to a devilish burn

And these witches you see, were once his sisters three

And they must rejuvenate also like he 

"And how, I ask tremolously again, will they do that?

They must seize young flesh and boil it in their vat"

"That is disgusting! We must flee right away!"

"But we cannot do that" said skull, "or I will not rest til judgement day

You my dear friend, must help me reclaim,

The body that belongs to me, and restore my good name"

"How said I do you propose we can recapture what was stolen

And now we hold in rapture?"

"I say we need to make a distraction"

We therefore asked the young girl if she would

Mind doing a twirl in front of the witches coven

She soon concurred, and then it occurred that they threw her

Inside of their oven

It burns, it burns she started to cry

And then the witches they started to cackle

"Now is our chance" spoke the skull with a glance

To see now their backs were turned they were easier to tackle

I saw a hauser and picked it up on my run,

And swung with the passion of glory

Knowing not which way to turn, the witches three

Did learn never to turn their backs on an unfinished story

With another fell swoop, I had cut down the loop

That tied fast the oven door, and the sweltering girl

Could return to fresh world, now with a story or more

Turning about I saw the skull had dealt a body blow

To the skeleton- the two were now one, and the ceremony was done

All but for the remortification

No wait said I, "That was not part of the deal

All you wanted was to find eternal rest"

"Well, what can I say I'd prefer to feel real

In a mans body, which I now have to test

This damned fool Spencer here will do

He owes me a few hundred years

Having been the maker of my fate before

Now he can lend me his ears and more!"

Spencer looked mortified at the reanimated corpse

That now stood dancing before him

He buckled at the knees, and then he did freeze

As the skull bore down upon him

"I cannot sanction a further horror show"

I spoke with renewed indignation

This has gone easily far enough now

"And you must return to your own mausoleum"

The Skeleton now bowed, but snatched up my hauser

And pushed me back while I tore my trouser

But a bigger tear was being ripped right there

As he hewed the weapon through Spencer's bone lair

And chopped down the lord with a stroke of his sword

Then fed the pieces to the cauldron

"You blood thirsty Hungarian Magician!",  I cried

"Why can't you see you have already died

And enough blood has been spilt already on your account

Your poor wife, your son, these witches and now Spencer on this mount!"

He answered "Every life has its price some are cheap and some like dice

Can only be measured once they are rolled twice

Thus my own I will live again following this human sacrifice"

I could not argue with his logic, it all seemed sound

But the moral reasoning by which he came to it

Did not follow strict Kantian ground

So I asked him "Are you a believer in the categorical virtues?

The Golden Rule or the law of moral curfews

Karma, or justice or the moral law

For what you have now broken my good dignity must abhore

I cannot turn a blind eye to this deed, to know you have done

Wrong since by my hand you were freed

It seems up to me to settle the score"

He cried "That may be so, and it may be thus

That you do what you know and you do what you must

Though you be minded to remember my name

Magician so don't imagine I won't have a trick that still remains"

With that he disappeared in a flash of light 

And the cauldron too with him into the dead of night

It was black then and only the centaur and me

Stood staring at one another and I could not believe

That he too had not been stirred into some kind of action

Then I realized he was but a wax work maniquin

And so I then left him melting by the dying fire's embers

And I thought on Miklos Kundra and the things one remembers

Jack in the box part 2

She picked up the box and replaced it
Safe in its hiding place
Just to one side of the mantlepiece
But behind the bookcase

I was ready for bed
So I retired
Heavy with drooping eyes
My brain had fallen into a stooper
I was swooning on the edge of surprise

Too much now had I seen
That I must shut my eyes
And allow my soul, to
Travel through the veil
That separates the truth from the lies

It must have been two in the morning
When I awoke in a cold sweat
A knocking and a kind of groaning
Had commanded me up like a pet

I obeyed this call like a madman
And followed in like one hypnotized
I knew not what I was doing
Only that it was my duty to surmize

Unnervingly, no other sleepers had awoken
And I was all alone down stairs
Even my footsteps were soft words spoken
When to the incessant knocking I compare

What could it be I asked myself, or I would have
If some rational thought was working
Instead I traced the sound to the front room
Pushed open the old door kept on walking

The old musty room was a token
From the Dickensian age
The books filled the shelves floor to ceiling
Each had a well thumbed page

Suddenly with my presence came the silence
Like an awareness of my own form had broken
The incessant knocking ceased, and I questioned
Whether from a dream I had awoken

Thinking this must be some result of
The strong impression of the skull the past evening
Mixed and conjoined with the concoction of spirits
I had imbibed I turned and was already leavin'

When suddenly the knocking recommenced
Now with an urgency quite immense
And a rattle and a surge that that book shelf was purged
Of titles I had recently been quoting

One it was a Frankenstein's monster
The other Shakespeare's Hamlet
As I held them in my hands,
 a chill ran up my spine
And I knew the box was now open

I cannot tell you now why, nor
How I found the courage to look
I suppose it was pure curiosity
Or some words I remembered from the book

But I approached the still rattling book case
And peered around its backside
And there on the floor was the skull box though no more
Was there any skull left inside

I looked to my left and my right
I looked under the case and to my fright
I saw the skull in the opposite corner
Determinedly facing the wall,

The rattling had long since ceased
Now what was left was a soft muttering beneath
The sound of an owl hooting ouside
The skull was distinctly grinding its teeth

With some trepidation I felt I could move
Formerly from the shock my bones had frozen themselves
But now I edged towards the open door
Thinking my self to remove for sure

Suddenly again without warning
The skull began to speak,
At first it was just a groaning,
But soon grew more strong out the weak

Take me back, it seemed to say
Take me back, take me back to my grave
They chopped off my head
And stole me away
Now I pray
Return me back to my grave

I want to live the life
That they stole
When they quartered my body and
Cut out my soul
Bring me back to life I'm pleading
Its in your hands I leave my needing

What was I to do
What was I to do?
How should I help the skull

I thought for one fleeting moment

Could I snatch it up

And lock it back in the box?

But then the thought occurred

The knocking would continue

Until forever and a day

And as if the skull

Some how perceived my thought

It turned and looked at me sideways

No there was no way I will be his haunt

I thought, and anyway surely I must try at least to save

Him from this torment and taunt

Why of all the men

Who could have been saved

Was he condemned? 

Who amongst us is better than him

What if it were I in his place?

Jack in the box

She said she had something to show me
Something so hidden and rare
That if I should just take a peep at it
A streak of grey shock should enter my hair

I waited in anticipation, of what she might reveal
And from a hidden place she brought out a box
Old as from a wartime appeal

She laid it there on the table, the clock on the wall
It struck ten
And as I opened it to inspect the contents
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end

For what it revealed was ghostly
A remnant of a man long past
Hidden in the depths of the forests of time
No signature sign of a cast

The pieces of skull had been glued
Fixed together, each like a puzzle
But as I lifted it out the box it shewed
That the man was missing his muzzle

His lower jaw was in pieces,
But sure his occiptal holes
Still looked out at the world in its creases
Like time had wrinkled his soul

I held up my friend Yorick
But found not the words nor the ways
To express what it felt
To be given such a jolt
To my mortality on this special day

Death it wears many masks
Some are taken on roads, some on tasks
Some in the beds while in their sleep
How did this fellow meet his grim reap?

Should I be holding the skull
Of one who lived long ago
What was once trapped within
These airy caverns?
What experiences had these holes seen?
What graveyards or taverns
Had become his friends
And how did he meet his end?

Four score years of life and love
fifty perhaps there of marriage
How did he feel at the touch of a glove
How did he hold his carriage

Was he stooped or upright
Was gregarious or aloof
Did he always win at cards
Was he chasing down proof?

Was there a meaning to his life at all?
How can you tell he was six feet tall?
He could have been a dwarf
He could have had one leg
Lost it in the Caribbean
While drinking a Rum dreg

He could have been a bank clerk
With an uneventful life
He could have earned a million
He could have killed his wife

There really could have been
A thousand and one possibilities
But now he is being held by me

Should I give him back
The death sleep he may have wished for
Does it matter where his body is
Or whether it was fished for

Was his grave robbed
Or did he donate his brain to science
Did they try to find the seat of his consciousness
Or did they dig out his soul all in good conscience?

Should I put him back in the box
Before I lose all control
And drop his fragile skull
On to this cold stone floor
Where is the museum label?
Will his name be
Anonymous forever more?