Looking back

Hanging around on the pavement
The tarmac, the weeds in the road
Walking up the lane to meet my old friends
Playing games riding skateboards
Chasing about in the estate park
The boy Matthew Bennette telling tales about his bike
That it had special balance handle bars
So that when he tipped his bike
We could hear something rolling down the metal tube
But we all knew that he was a liar
And he had rolled up mud balls to put inside
So it sounded like he had some inbuilt technology
When all he had were his lies
It was funny anyway to hear him say it

There were hawthorn trees with black sloe berries
That grew in late summer and autumn
And elderberries that grew on Tom's farm
When you squashed them they looked like blood
And sometimes we fought the high stinging nettles like soldiers
Cutting them down with bamboo canes
And sometimes we climbed inside haybarns
And made dens inside the bales
Until they all tumbled down on Tom one day and a scaffold pole
Hit him on the head
And he ran out to his mum and dad with blood running down
And he never cried

Then in the fields around Meare out past Down house
We went walking for miles with Matthew wood
And we came back and watched western movies
And stayed over night in his outhouse
And he ate pork pies with so much ketchup
I could never believe or understand why
We played for hours on computer games, pinball wizards
Or Samurai
Cannon fodder and his brother Ben Wood
Was the best at many things
And he had a really good bike

And Stephen who lived on the levels
We used to get on in school
We laughed so hard about vampires
When we had to make a haunted house game
Then when I visited his house
It was full of Star Wars toys
I'd never seen so many in my entire life
And we played with them for hours
But really I never liked Star Wars
But the funniest thing about Stephen were his lies
We used to tell eachother stories
So many that we made up
Each more fantastic than the one before
So that when we told of what we saw
Neither could have believed their eyes
It ended one time with a story of what animals we had seen
Recently, maybe a deer he said
Maybe I had seen a hedgehog
He had seen a badger
And then suddenly he told me
He had seen a Gorilla in the ditch nearby his house
And possibly a vampire as well

Then there was Millbatch where nobody went
From Downs Orchard - the better class estate
Millbatch was the rough end
Where the older kids lived
And Matthew Lambert who was very tough
And his brother Roger who used to pull the legs
Off Daddy Long Legs in School
And now he is carer for Somerset County Council
Working with people with Learning Disabilities
Go figure

Then down on church road, where the water reservoir was
The plastic coated chicken wire mesh that you could reach inside
And that lane was were the bully kids played and made
Their dens there
And we watched out for them while making our own
But there were rumours and whispers around
That she blew somebody somewhere
That he beat someone else up
And little pieces of knowledge fill your brain
Like into a water cup
and it makes up your world as a child
It tells of the big towns out there
And of the boys and girls you thought were so wild
Who now all have grey in their hair

Blow, blow

Sunday afternoon blow job
In the park
She knelt down
In her white dressing gown
And the wind it blew
And the dogs they did bark

The train rattled past
And I was there
I'd never seen that kind of thing before
Maybe in a movie
Or by the library door
But this was Sunday afternoon
In the park

Oh the birds they sang
The cows did fart
The window cleaners
have finished their part
And as they rubbed them clean
The rain did start
It was Sunday afternoon
Blow job in the park

Blow, blow, the trees did go
The leaves did seem to say
Blow my way
Like a railway whistle
Like a thistle
On a long highway
And she blew, blew, blew
Til her face went so red
And I thought I'd
Never seen such green
Giving head
It was blue as the sky
And after they lay
The park bench was drenched
In their words unsaid

Little pearls of wisdom
It could have been that
The love anyway
In that afternoon park
Was soon like the bark
Blown away
I saw her cry
That fell from her mouth

Truth 2

 It was hidden behind a facade 

It was the tree lost in the wood of lies

I was blind to it, didn't want to hear it

Even closed my ears and eyes

I didn't want to even understand

So I stuck my head in the sand

 

But it was ferreted out, it was winkled out

And prized apart like an oyster to reveal its pearl

It was weighed in the hand, on the scales of justice

It has been weighed against the purest gold in the world

And found to be of perfect carat, 

It is better than the finest wine of the best clarit

It has the clarity of a diamond

It shines a light, but not through a prism,

It is harder than the hardest criminal in the toughest prison

It does not dance like an ephemeral rainbow

When it stands, it stands tall, casts a long shadow

And people run from it in fear, other's hide in its shade

Still some would give their dying tear, for a drop of it to be made

  

It is hard to pin down, like a pin ball

weighs heavy as a crown, when it from the King's head it falls

It changes shape like a wraith, or a ghost coming through a wall

But in reality it never changes, like time itself or nothing at all

It is fact incarnate, it is the living flesh of an idea of man

But then women know it, as too a child can

It requires, like the pearl, grit to make it stick

Courage to tell it, the skill to make it disappear as if a magic trick

But like a weight-lifter's load, it is a relief to get it off your chest

It is the long and lonely road, where your belief in it is put to the test

And often involves fits of tears, and smeared make-up and tissues

In hospital waiting rooms, or beside beds

It is easy to fake it, vanity imitates it, but then the mirror breaks

The axe falls, and it is reflected in the splinters, a hologram, a whole

As the narcissus must crawl back inside his hole

It is pure, it is the most valuable treasure we own

Yet it cannot truly be sold

Because when this is tried it disappears

Below the fold

And isn't seen for days

It is on the run

Like a snow abll rolling down a hill

In the end creates an avalanche

Then all the dominoes fall in its wake

Like match stick trees after a volcanic blast

To others it is a tradable commodity

Because someone will pay top dollar for it

But when they have it, they only wish to hide it again

And cover ups are cheaper when they are smoked

With a pack of lies

It is like a ticking bomb then, liable to explode

In their hands

Or like a burning match it will burn the fingers

Of the one holding it, yes, it is sometimes fire

And sometimes ice, because they die with it.

They take it to their graves.

And then the trail runs cold, 

But if we let ourselves sell it so cheaply

We sell with it our souls.

It comes out in the wash

With the dirty linen

It is the skeleton in the closet

To be discovered by the bin men

It is told in halves, in pieces of a puzzle

It is hinted at by clues or by fingerprints on a muzzle

It sometimes can seem dark, though often loud as a dog's bark

And like a dog with bone at play, it too must have its day

 

It is free to everyone whether a king or a slave,

Yet it can cost the earth, or it can cost a close shave,

It can slip from your hands when you don't watch it

You must keep your eye on the ball, you must be brave

It is the writing on the wall, it is the writing on your grave

Most of all if you speak it then a life you might save

Mysterious ways

 Yes you work in mysterious ways

Yes you work in mysterious ways

From the smell of celeriac cooking

To the midsummer's haze

Yes you work in mysterious ways

There are paths where I walk

Reminds me of younger days

Seemed so much better than the present

Wrapped up in rosen glaze

And there are times when I talk

Or I see a woman's face

And I think you must work

In mysterious ways

Yes it's all a mystery I can't read your play

What I guess is behind the scenes

You are moving backstage

But I wish for you to be back

With me some days

You just say read my back pages

He works in mysterious ways

And there are some fruit trees

That in the breeze do sway

And I know the ghost of your electricity

Hovers above the haze

And I say with my earnesty

That I wish your ghost could stay

But you say in your own honesty

He works in mysterious ways

Searchin' for water on Mars

 I look out my window

At the shining stars

And think why is it

I can't get a job

Even parking cars

When somebody closer to God

Has a job that's raised the bars

Yes you might say it's a divining rod

But they're searching for water on Mars

Searching for water on Mars boys

Yes searching or a lurching

It's creeping and a seeping

Lookin in the nooks and crannies

Searchin' for water on Mars

Well what did you know

When there's a drought down here

And they can't get a drop from the tap

And some poor fellow in Africa

Has to walk half the continent's map

Searchin' for water on Earth should come first

Let's save the kids from starvin'

And try at least halvin' their thirst

But we can't they say we're savin our farthins

While we're raising the bars

Searchin' for water

Leavin' none for the urchin' daughter

But only so we can drive more Tesla cars

Yes we're searchin' for water on Mars

There's a foot print I hear that's on the moon

And they've written poems about it

Like Seigfreid Sassoon

And many men did die in the attempt

Just like the first world war

Many lives got spent

Searchin for the man in the moon

Well back then they felt robbed

Of the best men 

Yes football stadiums were mobbed

By protests then

But this time it could be Joe Bloggs

Or another movie star

But the climated change is logged

By how many trees have fallen so far

to pave their way on their road to Mars

And there's already not enough air

And too much of it is hot

And it's floating up there

Into what can never be and what is not

Well sometime we're gonna have to face it

We all must die sometime

But why must we ruin the planet 

In the process, it's hightime

I can't stand it

Let's accept death and life are one gambit

And just get on and play the game

It's not poker 

And we needn't hide our hands

Let's lay our cards on the table

And learn from the fable

Of Narcissus

Not to fall in love with our own reflection

Nor find glory and self gratification

In the stars

And so let's stop searchin' for water

Oh the lurchin's never what it oughta

Just ask Icarus who was a lamb to slaughter

Let's stop searchin' for water on Mars

Moon in the window

 We're like chalk and cheese you and me

You are the calcium cabonate crayon

Drawing lines on the

Blackboard night sky

Teaching me my times tables

Tide times

Hand writing

The moon stroke

With the magic i

Magic finger glowing

Pointing the way

I trace your lunar digit with my own

And learn to write

In moon language

To speak in moon words

And mirror tongue

Reflections

From behind the mirror of the sun

I am the soft cheese that lies soaking in a bath

Or the hard cheese I feel when things do not

Follow my chosen path

I am holy cheese

With holes in my faith

Tell God your plans they say

And you will know he acts in mysterious ways

Weeping willow

 Weeping willow canopying the water

Silk assassins daughter

Shorter than a pine

Taller than I thought her

Filigree pedigree

Dogs bark acid tongues

And Ringing out the headaches

Thumbs through leaves

Of countless words

Whispered in the shushing eves

Hushing wind

Rushing, rushing then quiet mind

Meditative tree

Spindles, spider thread

The yarn droops

Like stiffened drool

Hardened into tools

The searching stalactites hand down

Divining rods detecting water sources

Sniffing out the wet stuff

Thirsty suckers thread

Weeping its drooping head

Sad maybe, or only inexhaustibly thirsty

Like it's been wandering in a desert for days

It will try any mirage, or true Oasis

Plumb any well

Where there's a weeping willow

There's a watery will