Saturday, 22 April 2023
Autumn love
The river of tears always did flow south
And the bitterness of years
Bit the lip of what I couched
In kind words in soft skin of the apologist's pouch
And the time for regrets has come to pass
Nothing more to forget than the what's in the looking glass
The sound of nothing, the rush of air
From a vacuum to the vacuum of an utter despair
I wish I had held autumn and kept the fire kindled
I wish I had stood near the fire as the daylight dwindled
But I was fool enough to be self swindled
I stole the time I killed the calf who had been saved and brindled
All the sales of hearts came washing in the rivers warmth
Like an assault of the senses via the folk of
I held autumn like an air
Of a cloak of understanding
Putting it on as one does a glove
To feel the warmth
Or touch of the velvet
And sinking into that
Autumn of love
In which leaves fall from
Winter wind chilled trees
And she like an autumn
Garden I have visited
Whose secret is safely hidden
Though I must search to find the key
Lies in wait at her gate
In the comfort of the dying
Of the year to greet me
Like a changing season
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Pesty
Dragnet fishing in the lower depth
Pest control of the ants nest
Mother sighed fair thee well
And shot a star straight into hell
God was angry at the saint
Who had all but forgotten to paint
The stairway to heaven
And Heaven's restraint
Was not what I would have called
alright, it ain't
Come on tide me over the hills
The boat is heavy
And the way is shrill
And the carbon dioxide plants will kill
Me, thy might, but not before entropy
The dog of oxygen barks and pants
And I am itching from the chaotic ants
Whose will is even and reason will rule
But that's not what they should teach in school
Teach that might is right
Because opportunity knocks
But relativity bites
And he who can seize the bull by the horns
Will master disaster ever since he was born
And she who runs a pork-bellied chop
Will end her days working in a pawn broker shop
Because far below the soft metallic sky
There where they people like ants too afraid to die
And they gave thanks to the blue coloured dye
That kept them in business with the
Telegraph guy
He told of archangels with troubled wings
Whose broken promise made him lose things
That were not his alone to keep
But he lost them alone, and that made him weep
The spider crawled upon the shelf
And all God's creatures help themself
To Wine and beer and telemetry boxes
Because short circuits are bad for red little foxes
They will bite and gnaw through miles of wire
And force the land to burn in raging fire
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Night and day
Hear the owls of night
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Blue caesars
Blue caesars
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Man of Sand
Here I stand
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Japanese boy
I'm telling you it's a cupescience of over rated nonsense
It's a total cacophany, over brillo-creamed joy
It's a sad requiem for a gutteral cathedral
Of half pandered to over cooked Japanese Boy
Well old boy I see in your hair you have cats, and rats
And some signs of despair
And travelogue dialogues of repeated festoon
With the words and the manner of Sigfreid Sassoon
Where as here the Close encounter electronic keyboard wind chimes
Seem to turn on the salient cosmic times
And left like a marker in somebody's film
Oh they are here you can see them,
They are here I fear
The alien anthem of the black and white bear
What is it we want beyond a salad and brunch
What do we crave but eggs and bacon
And can we find the time for this kind of rhyme
When the train has nearly left the station
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Sunday, 16 April 2023
Strawberry line song
Chorus:
Sharp the bill hooks, rev up the saws
Slash the nettles and bend the stalks
Burn the brash, pitch in with forks
What we do in the great outdoors
Verse 1
Hack with axe and level the ground
Pull up the roots and cut down the vine
Raze the tree and throw on the mound
And when we're finished before we recline
Burn it on the Strawberry line
chorus
Verse 2
Open the flask, pour out the soup
Pull up a stump and tell our stories
Laugh at a joke til we're cock-a-hoop
Share the tea bread like we share our glories
Serve it on the Strawberry line
chorus
Verse 3
Dig over, dig under the railway banks
Hazel, Oak and Mountain Ash
Dogwood and Hornbeam we plant with thanks
Trudge back from the site when heavy rains lash
Planted on the Strawberry line
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.