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

The bread of life

 you can't give, more than you've

got

And you've got to live inside the slot

And life's a sieve

And the flour is hot

And it falls through the holes

In little spots

And you can't give more than you've got

So come on and fill up my cup

Oh you can't bake

If you shake the pot

Oh the cake won't rise

If the oven's not hot

And Life's a sieve

And time's flour is not

So let it fall through

And make your dough

And roll it around

be you fast or slow

So come on and fill up my cup

Oh bake your bread

Until it is hot

And the yeast is rising

Inside your pot

And life is to give

But take when it's not

So sit down and share it with me

radio carbon

 I tune into to Radio Carbon

I listen all through the night

And the tracks they play

On the records of the years

They really make me feel alright

I can get stuck in the groove

of the tree trunk serenade

And petrified starfish in

Oil sumps

When cars are burning away

I can get hooked on the half life

That some live

While others only dream about

And I want to scream and shout

When the dates turn out

To be more than 30 years in doubt

I say That's way too young man

And you should never have gone so low

Oh Radio carbon let's just

Go on with the show

Well the pirates are running it

Off on their Oil Rigs

Or deep inside the mines

Where for precious stones their dig

To fuel all our technological dreams

Of a highfalutin future

And think ourselves so suave and cool

With our cell phone computers

But what if we knew child slaves

Dug our power, that their lives were cut short

Or strangled in the hour

Of their earliest hopes and dreams

Just so we in rich countries can livestream

Our favourite shows

To our mobile screens

So Radio carbon try telling this story

Let's hear it in the hour

Between rest and toil

Let's throw off this poison

That leaks from our batteries

And makes our heart so foison 

With greed and desire

Let's throw out this technocracy

Out into the hellish fires

All aboard!

 Europe is leaking

The ship is going down

Crossing the English stream

Cashing in on the crown

Lives are overboard

There are no barriers or guards

This lack -loose feeling is nothing so hard

So where is the deterrent?

 The message is Come!

Come gentle migrant

We welcome all with warm arms

Yet only the policy of no

kill and no fence

Is keeping these migrants

From a starving offence

Sure Britain maybe heaven

But really it's not

It's rainy, it's over crowded

And the politics is rot

No one speaks truths worth hearing

Ah the lies are afloat

We cling to them like dinghies

Our lies are our life boats

Collective misappraisal

And mutual illusion

We fall under the spell

of a Government delusion

But we get the politicians

That we want they say

Ultimately this policy of come in

Is just the way

That we collectively would like it to be

But where say the ones with murderous looks

Will it ever stop? Where in the history books

That perhaps they have read but probably not

As it's all just a rhetoric of fear that is hot

On their minds in their souls

And in their pockets at the bar

When they find they are empty it

Reopens a scar

Of inadequacy at their situation

At the powerless plight

Of the underclasses who are still

Down trodden despite their best fight

And then they reach for scape goats 

To fire bomb at night

Or hark back to old England

Which they believe they love or might

Yet probably they hate this rainy old isle

Probably they envy the migrants'

Brave style

To fling themselves in dinghies and escape

The drowning ship

Yet it is also a castle fortress 

That holds their hearts in its grip

And though like the Titanic we might

Swim for the shore

Can we really turn aside 

From the drowning migrant poor?

They hardly are invading, 

They are being rescued out to sea

But there is a policy of policing

France's border which foolish laws oversee

Coupled with faulty advertising

Of Britain as the land of the free

When they are in the migrant camps

They wonder where is the friendly cup of tea?

So don't let's blame it all on these ambitious souls

Who are taking advantage of opportunities

We leave them like trails of sweets and coals

To follow to our door and then

Refuse to let them in?

First change the broadcast message

If the truth of it is paper thin

Tell them it will be a struggle

And they will likely not find proper work

They'll be at the mercy of stronger gangs

Who will exploit them like the hawks

They are and as the weak they will be prey

For the system will likely forget about them

It will be no holiday

If after some years they establish a home

It will likely be in an enclave of a large city

That will be like to them ancient Rome

And The bread and circuses

Will have them battling for their lives

They'll miss their homes and families

Be separated from their wives

So is it all really worth it

To set off from foreign shore

All to find some riches

When in their hearts they'll be poor

black and white

 Stay black for the photograph

Stay white for the mountain top

Stay grey and wash away the rainbow

Of your love

In another pot of illusionary gold

So stay black and white

Before the rising colour God

Who doesn't distinguish

Right from wrong

Only shades of grey

Kick out snow white

And her seven dwarves

Kick out the black knight

And his rabid wolves

All is colour in your eyes

All is the grey wolf

In his disguise

Of the white sheep

Or the black stallion rear

Up on the mountain and run

Down the thoroughfare

Baby, baby

 I've got five fingers

I've got five bananas

I banana

I see one finger

One Gorilla

She said her name was Baby

I said is that with an E or I

She said why changes I

in the plural

Every time you smile

I said now don't you mean simile

No I mean baby

Now you'll tell me its a synonym

No actually it's a pseudonym

Oh I thought it was an alias

Like Baby face

or Julius Caesar

SO are you a singular women

No she said I'm a plural woman

All women are in me

I contain multitudes

We are all just leaf then

Now don't you mean leaves when

The wind blows millions

The trees contain multitudes

Climate change carol

 Wishing for a warm Christmas with no ice upon the trees

There'll be no need for log fires

It will be 35 degrees

And Rudolph will need a shave

Better get a camel in for hire

Because the climate change is coming

Nothing left to save from the fire

Well be hanging up our flip flops

Dressing up in shorts, 

We'll be as hot as rhyming hip-hops

Running in our JD sports

If you hear us carolling, 

It'll have Caribbean tingle

And the Jamaican rum barrelling

Will be our tropical jingle-jangle-jingle 

Light up the barbie we're going

Down under

It's blistering in Tinsel town 

And the decked halls are full of crazy thunder

Breaking all our humid brows

Under the mistletoe

kissing hot lips on cold ships

As the hair dryer wind blows

Up along the scorching streets

And whistles through the windows

Holly wreaths on the doors of nuclear families

Like in a nuclear fall out all sing so happily

Merry atomic baubles to you

I can't see a Partridge sitting in the tree

It's either fallen off his perch

Or flown North to the Arctic sea

Where glaciers are researched

But no scientist has found them yet

They are lost like needle in the burning haystack

Of the gulf stream jet

No more frost on window panes 

but the sea level is rising

Soon it'll be flowing up the country lanes

But let's not be the doom Sayers

Or merchants of ungrounded fears

There'll still be Mark's and Spencer's

And you'll have time to buy some beers

Just relax on your sofa while it's floating

And switch on the King's speech

Hell be uttering he's not for voting

In a climate where miscreants preach

And the equator is sweltering

There are forests on the Poles

And we'll all be for tightening our purse strings

While watching our pennies fall through ozone holes