Scottish memories

 You left me just where I picked you up

A little tired

After the music had  stopped

And the merry-go-round took us

back to the start

Oh we had mountains to climb 

in the hills of our hearts

There were valleys of consequence

And hidden snow drifts of guilt

Holes to fall through

The frozen surface

On lakes of indifference

But ferries of respect

And reunification bridges

Where we dropped sticks in for a bet

And love lockets

And hearts on chains

And notes in pockets

Written on wild west steam trains

And seas so cold they froze our brains

Oh tell me what love is and is

This the same

I remember seaweed on shores

And little animals that slither

And crawling on all fours

And winds that made me shiver

And camping in the pinewood

Next to the Inn

And you being so afraid

Of the Wild winds din

And how we hunkered down in silence

And protected we slept

In each others arms

Like violence

In the arms and the neck

That hold tight yet don't let go the bow

Don't let the arrows fly yet

I have more to give

My heart wants to live

Before the final vet

I need you

But I don't need it

I want us

Without the fuss

I miss your tender kiss

And the way we fell in bliss

But the silence between us spoke volumes of trust

And the sea shore swelled and hushed

And I breathed

And knew you were there

Once upon in Scotland 2015

 

That's life

 Isn't life such a comedy?

You lie down,

until you can't lie down anymore

And then you stand up

Until you are so tired of doing the things

You can do standing up,

And then you sit down,

sitting down there are fewer things you can do than when

Standing up and so you use your brain

And write something or make something up

Until your brain and your back are too tired to work

And then you must lie down again

And that is life,

Only that story doesn't make a very good song

Concrete notions

 City whores, in the dirt

In the deep

Of concrete

And bungling jungles

Where fungal spores are rife

and reach rifles

And breach bedposts 

And linen trousers of

Generals

Whose black hearts are scorched by war

And peace is just a begging post 

On the road to War

The city of blood

They are dead flowers

Rotten lilies

And flag Irises

Drooping 

Pungent smelling

Of decaying pig

And human hearts blackened

By smoke, and smog

And money

That breeds the flies of greed

From the maggots of envy, and pride

And the worms of lust are twisting

Through

The rotten flesh

Of the over sweetly smelling roses

The bawdy bright colours

The bold washed fast, bleached hues

The bumble bee dyed

Boxers and blonde wigs

Of stags and figs

And pigs

Who dance in the moonlight

But never smell

a field

Today you must fly

 You create

To bring new life into this world

You mold, and hold the dreams of your baby girl

And in the blink of an eye she is gone

Like the rain on the pavement

After the sun has shone

And I shake my head and cry

I shake my fists at the sky

And I ask why

Why has she gone?

You are the creator and destroyer of things

We know not why only what life brings

To live or to die, to give and to cry

In the end are we just puppets on strings?

And I hold the rain in my hands

I search through the desert lands

For the sign that new life brings

In this new spring

Some are cut down like so many blades

Like chaff that falls, like dirt off spades

Some are cythed for making hay

Oh we must seize each passing day

Is there ever a time to say goodbye

To one you have loved, but one who does die

Are there ever the words to sigh

This reason you came, that season you fly

Fly away, oh fly away

Sweet bird of sorrow

Maybe tomorrow, 

I'll find the right words to say

Good bye

But not today, not today

Today you must fly

Don't Bother

 Don't bother about the lad

Or the best you ever had

Oh don't bother about the cad

Who hangs around with the footpad

Don't bother about the bad

Try not to be sad

Get your own back on Vlad the impaler

He's a sailor, a whaler

A fisher of men

A wisher of women

A bish and a bosh

of fish and fosh

In the slish slosh of the sea

The Lily pad, the philly fad

The milly mad and the silly sad

Rad dad

Who wants to be good

But ends up bad

Don't bother

The sinking of the great ship Sea Biscuit

 The sinking of the biscuit

Oh how the biscuit sunk

Whether a digestive  or a Garibaldi 

In war a lot of biscuits were sunk

The only difference between the Bismarck and a biscuit is a biscuit goes soggy in the water

Commemorated on Butleigh wood

By a statue of Captain hood

That greatest of biscuit sinkers

They thought he was a thinker

But no a doer was he

A very dour doer

As he dipped his rich tea

The very dowager of Mrs Dowington

Edmund her dove lover from the sea

With his slow boat from China

And his cup of Earl Grey tea

They got him hook line and sinker

The tea bag stewed in the South China sea

And the pacific blue turned a tea leaf brown

As from Peace they could bring out the pea

Charging in the Calypso

A monkey lightning free

Came bolt down from the blue

As the sea stew

Was a bubbling like a market of fleas

And flaying in her flaring dress

Lady Jane, not grey was she

But plain, as plain could be

Without her very rich tea

Earl Grey he sunk it for her

Oh he sunk his biscuit in

But then it did go soggy

And sunk to the bottom of sin

She always wished for Garibaldi, that most military of Martial men

She was sure his biscuit would stand upright at the door

And could well withstand a good dunking

Sure his Spanish conquistador airs

Would frizz up the little light hairs

On the back of her neck, but she did expect

That he would respect

Her as a Lady of greatest aspect

Then she found out he was Italian

And thought of Christina Rossetti

A far cry from the poetry of biscuit dunking in the sea

And yet a step up from Garibaldi

Who never lived in the 16th century

Ah the Dunking of the Sea biscuit

And the sinking in the tea

Is there ever a good time to risk it

In good drinking company