Don't look up

 I'm not saying it was good

I'm not saying it was bad

but it had that tone you know

That authority of dad

Should you beckon for forgiveness

Or crack as a mountain

Peak under the weight of foreknowledge

Like Cassandra who couldn't speak

Should you fall in love with an icicle

Or a bicycle or a polar bear

Should you mean to quench the thirst that comes

When you do not care

Forgone conclusions aside

I decided I was spare

Like a room ready to rent

Like a condom as yet unspent

Or like a tiger in the night

Whose switch had been turned off

I was light as a kite in the air

Should you harm the great rhinocerus 

Who was only trying to warn us 

Or buzz like a lightning rod

Ready to speak to God

Should he say come hither wither 

Will you go Up high or down low

You still feel the vertigo

The meld of cataclysmic events

Broke the mould

Shocking how one event

Can turn a whole life just so

In beads of sweat I write this

The dog is running out

The end of the world is coming

But I cannot scream or shout

Something in me died

The moment

They pulled the plug

Like water down the drain,

I hear the refrain

No don't look up

I stood with racked brain, and threw the torch

Of flame

Shook the tree of good

But could not discover

My name

I pounded on the door of heaven

Or was it a seven eleven

Either way I needed what was within

The party was almost over

The lighter fluid switched

Over to petroleum

By the gas attendant witch

Was she a witch? I ask myself

No of course she was a stylist

Just someone who pretended to be

Someone I'd mindless

But I wound the windy windlass of the lock

And low and behold

A thunderbolt shock

Hit me between the ears

In the air of nebulous tears

That always diminish like a fraction

(of years)

Spaced out

 We're all getting spaced out

Because there's no space left to go

Getting out of our heads

Because we don't want to live

Like the living dead

On skid row

We're all on the same ride

But there is nowhere

To hide

So come and live with me

My spaced out Space bunny

It would be quite funny

If We really got spaced out of our time

The land of the rising sun

 Her eyes are closing

As mine are just opening

And in hers all the rivers have shone

In mine they are bleeding into the ocean

Out to the land of the rising sun

Will we ever be together

Forever chasing that horizon down

Here it is ever a setting sun

There they are always getting things done

Well we're chasing forever like a ship

That's untethered and sails

To the land of the rising sun

I hope I'll meet her maybe tomorrow

Maybe when Gods will is done

Then our roads will ever, be together

In the land of the rising sun

Wise words

 Known for other such classics as:

the abominable Mr Toad

Love and Peace in a Jet Wash

Singleton in Miami or Shepton Mallet by the Sea

Firing squad apology

Ship shape and fancy free

If God was a Golden retriever

What does that make me?

Peace in a match box

Reverend on his knee

Will you be my Church he says

And will you marry me?

My luck ran out on 5th street I was cornered in a brawl

The dogs were down and dirty

And I don't mean Interpol

The fireflies so empty

Like flickering

Street lamps

And all about this Harvard Bridge

Rang the sirens of curfew

Push me back in Tinsel town

And wage war on my despair

The colours ramp up the rainbow

Rabies shadows far below

I wish for cutting cloth

And early winds in socks

But surely all I got

Was your gentle elbow

The golden moon

 Vanity and predjudice

And greed and corruption

That seems to be all there is

Dogs in the moonlight

Tokens

Burning bright

Money down the silver highway

And the moon is paved with gold

As Musk and Trump

And Amazon foretold

Unfold in the mockery of decorum

In the disguises of the state

In the power play of forever bargaining until late

In the poker game of chances

The lottery of love and hate

But who rolled the dice

Except the devil on the ice

Who melts and awaits

His fate

For the moon is golden

There is money on the moon

Oh it is a dead rock

But we'll be up there pretty soon

Oh the moon is old hat

Now give me mars

It is grid locked on Earth 

With all these driverless cars

Now Mars is silver,

is it mysterious or bloody?

Dripping with the blood

Of millions

Who have died for its cozening

Yeah though we went there

Though we go there still

In dreams of the knife blade

And the assassin's skill

It is cutting the war stance

It is the power of will

The great red eye in the sky

But who will pay the bill?

How many lives will die

BeFore the consciousness bill

Gets enacted into law

And then no more will war

Horns blow shrill

Generations

 generations

Genius

Of life are its generations

Who reinvent the past

For the present generation

By denegrating it

And so we all think we are new

And nothing is derivative

But all is

The solid clue

And lie

Of glue

That sticks to the foot

As it gets its certificates

timeless

 Do you remember the tropicarium?

No nor do I!

Except that tarantula they put on my hand

Oh what jerks they were

But

I am a nice guy

I never complain

If a venomous beast is put in close range of a child

To give them a thrill

Well

In life it is either kill

Or be killed

No I don't remember the tropicana

Perhaps the coach journey there

When all the kids

were singing

found a peanut

to the tune of "In the quarter master's store"

That's what I rememer

and the round kerbs of the new 

School building where we could play

The extent of it

Its potential seemed vast

It's just who's gonna listen to this bullshit

blast

I remember my grand dad who I never met

Who said according to my dad

Who was also known to invent

That he didn't write because there were better

writers out there

God I even bore myself with this claptrap

Horse shit

Bring on the dancing Russian bears

I mean why can't they tell you when you are a kid

That when you're 40 you

Will write down this kind of shit

As if it were the best time of your life

Well it probably was

You were a child with absolutely no rules or responsibilities

Except there is the lie

You had them, even if not by law

They were forced down your throat by your parent

Who tried to instil

The moral virtues in you

until the drink became a problem and a player

What does Gareth think?

That's what I'd like to know

I really miss him

He probably doesn't miss me tho