Matisse

 Matis sitting down

the ruly Matis in the pompadue centre

The big time piano

Perhaps now I think that the book in the house

Always Matisz is on a postcard or poster

Lots of production

The Matisz is reproduced a lot

Lost in the modern worls

Its reproductivitivy

He stops in the force

Very truly an artiste

In the xposition

If Matis is always here, he rests

We look for colour, absolute resolution

It is used therefore the period

Take it always the it encourages the artist

A p

And I demand the 

The first impression is a plastic

He consider the first the expression was conserved, he was complex, until he could move into tphotography

Vanessa progressive

It is truly an expression of force

29may

For exmple in the first tableu

A liberty characteristic

The old lines

Matis started a tableu

On the table beaucoup

It is closed  until next year

Oh my

 All aboard on the Danish coast

The glowing reports

Of nethermost

And birds that heard the shred of lies

The truth in tatters by the pork pies

A call was heard from Amsterdam

The chocolate toast, the raspberry jam

And colder nose, but older ties

Hold those most, until he dies

Freezing in the underworld

Of doom disappear over a girl

Achilles swears then shoes away

A hornet from his ankles sway

And castanet, and bells they jangle

As fishing nets and horns they tangle

Up in the deep blue of Grecian seas

Oh me oh my oh me

For further down the lullaby

A dog is labelled an Angel now

And the angel is in the house how

Does it go with thee?

The birds they fly in kaleidoscopes

And other tires bring other ropes

Twin town 2

 It is the fourth wall

The fourth time around

That my cliffs fall

And time's oceans roll

In delicate rhymes of whale song

Down garden paths where I belong

Too too-fated prices of corn

In the gob of the chief of the indians

I cut away his tongue and say bull

Bully bull finch

Through fried green tomato skies

Of the Northern lights

Where cold eskimo people dwell

I clash like a four-poster bed upon the shore of

Your reeling consciousness and hope stands guard

Out side the caravan of your despair

That makes its way through the desert and the tented ladies there

And camping hands are sprung in traps

As baby birds are eaten by reindeer

And filtered back through water taps

In the fourth wall that is broken down

And segways of conversation

That never muster dreggs of disintegration

Into holes like sheep jumping over bars of soap

Or shower head reaching epiphanies in the graveyard shifts

Of cat and dog mouse trap trips

Where each tail is tasted like a bead of sweat from a heaving bible

Carried on the back of the Siamese army

Marching through twin town

In Chocolate town

 When my day comes

Everything is gonna taste sweet

There'll be Candy Castles

And Sugary people, all down the street

I'll lick the lamposts

I'll chew on the kerb

The chocolate soldiers will stand at their posts

And there'll be toffee trees and sherbert herbs

When my day comes in Chocolate town

Duck Disco

 Duck butts in the air

Stick your duck butts in the air

Like you just don't care

while looking for your grub down there

Shake those tail feathers

Fellas, ladies

Mallards, Drakes

Come on and waggle it

Just a little bit

Make no mistakes

There's party going down on the lakes!

Come on and haggle it

Come on duck on the dance floor

Dance, dance duck on the ice some more

Slap and tickle those little duck flipper flappers

Slipping off a duck's back like Jack Daniels

Don't throw no stones at glass houses

Fly on home

In your thousands

Canada Geese just looking for release

Come abounding, resounding to the beat

Of a hundred duck feet,

 paddling

Ham Wall reserve walk with Ed

 All the teeming little monsters down on the lake

Eating themselves

there's no mistake

Dragon flies gobble midgies

And Mosquitoes suck my blood

The only one who doesn't know

is Noah with his flood

Bring the animals two by two

the amster the gerbil

Even the cock roach too?

Oh Mrs Noah in her hide

Could not have conceived the turn about

Nor the laundry bill for accommodating all those lost souls,

But down on the lake

It all goes round

Like a washing machine

Clothes in a tumble drier

This year to next the seasons change

The reds mix with the whites

And it all gets stained green

From a favourite pair of socks

Prison

 Could it be that I lay dying

Could it be that I've been slain

All I see as I am lying

Are the ones to whom I blame

I hear the sounds in the cathedral

Mystical voices raised in praise

Of the one who keeps on shining

Though the days be numbered and are named

I see the fog lift from the river

I see the lights of dawn appear

And if you call me by my number

Behind the bars I my face sees clear

Just lock me up

Just unlock me

My heart is blocked

By immoral grease

I search for absolution

Wash me clean

Purify my release

All along the cold horizon

Warm sun rays begin to reign

Like a king in gold and iron

Shining out in His name

I see my light come shining