Walking around 2007

 I made a last ditch attempt

to gain justice from finality

 

There ain't no pigs

in control of the farm

proletariat are worried

the birds are alarmed

the cockerels of the bourgeoisie

go cock of the walk

But its bread and circus'

they want

not God Knives and forks

There's sinews of power

struggling to be heard

Ain't nothing in particular

Sorry is a regular word

So frequent in the parlours

it's served with a cocktail

But the waitress is on strike

And I can't hear myself think

 

I stand by the piano

the blind tuners tinkering tink

the city is on fire

this is not where the judges come to drink

So I set down my own laws

in a tablet of stone

but they're easily broken

like human bone

They refer to the just wars

and pockets of rice

which America have borrowed

and so China look twice

It's a dirty plot

someone's running the game

but you 've gotta be in it

else you might go insane

 

When I walked to the hill tops

and walked in the bowers

the Chiming sounds of bells

I heard in the moral towers

 

Lords and lady's of the hedgerows

invited me to court

And there I lay with fairies

and dragonfly's me they escort

 

The tomes are shattered on the steps

the nightingale's song flows on

but like rivers' depths

the bird's drowned song

in tormented twists

like tormentile throngs

and jesters wear the masks of men

In animal spirits they rise again

The king is dead

the queen will follow

But so lives summer merrily

As she sleeps on the wing of a swallow

 

Ten thousand earths

are buried near

And human flesh is

soon to appear

 

on the coat of the stag

who does battle in spring

In the guise of a rat

who rattles like a Cobra king

mooring at the water's edge

where reeds mark man's emotions

like the scars of a lover's pledge

to die forever

or never live for tomorrow

As the forget me nots come out

I cannot feel ought but sorrow

 

Loneliness of youth

 What is this ? loneliness? - about?

 

You might meet me on the footsteps

You might see me on the train

You might leave me in the cupboard

or in the pouring rain

You might leave me with mother hubbard

or fry me on a stone

I might not look like an egg

But I crack like a bone

 

 

 

Has your mind been born

by bar maids braids

burnt like the skin

out of certain shades

Where sunlight reveals

the priests purples parades

When he throws down his herbs

and picked up more charades

 

Angel islington spit in my eye

the doves of paradise

have further to fly

if not for you

I would fall from the sky

And heaven becomes earth

the more that you try

There are words like coins

bushes of cherry

Born yesterday crusaders

In the pubs drinking merry

if you ask for an ambulance

I'd sooner walk by

I don't look at accidents

but they don't make me cry

I love you the emptiness

love is a loom

its wove into words

plucked from the moon

if you cancel out being

What makes the soul move

But a thought like a cherry

ripened in june

 

Blood lines

 

2006 -2008?

 

I've got legs but they don't stand for nothing

I've got hands

but they don't help enough

If I made eggs

they'd soon fabricate

But the firmament is not religious fervent (fer fur ferret firk)

And the occlusion

is like a veil of heaven

But its not thirsty plenty

its dry as bones

And the skeleton keys

play these ivory stones

But it doesn't hurt any

it doesn't hurt any

because I've my blood lines

that howl at the moon

 

There are no speech bubbles

that surround our heads

humans have cats lives

severed spines

And cats eyes

and dogs genes

for baying at the stars

and Shakespeare's nose

for sniffing at the moon

There are floating wrecks

that push out your blood

until the memes of society

suck dry the seas flood

And they take your soul

and sack the gold

they choose your words

like icey worms

that wriggle from your spirit

until the dog king danes

and the fiery princess

presses the flowers to the paper

 

 

In the dark forest

 

In the forest of the night

When the moon is beaming bright

And the lords and Ladies pray

Like the deadly night shade

Where the sedges twist, gestate

And the moss foments in state

See the creatures stir and stalk

As alone a wanderer walks

Then he stops then is still

As the willow whips its will

As the fir sways above

And the hill slips its glove

From the hand of darkness to the hand of light

Which spreads ever onwards to the forest’s night

And the owl and Badger, moth and mole

Fly to the light or to the hole

And the wild gooseberry gooses

In twisted bramble briars

Ancient rock and stones in nooses

Of the bindweed nettled lairs

And muddy lay the tracks

Cold and icy lays the snow

Animals watch their backs

As birds start to sing when dawn first shows

Brown Bottle

 Brown bottle, brown bottle

Oh my true only friend

Keep with me, keep with me 

Right til the end

Stay down where it's dark

Or up round the bend

Drink slowly,

Drink slowly

Oh my only friend

Mr Otter

 I am but an otter

An otter but am I

And if the butt gets Ott

Then the Otter better die

But if the Ott gets better

Then quite away I'll fly

Because I'm not an otter butter

But I am a butterfly

Mink

The mink delved among nettles and dead bracken

Moving quick and ferret like

It was brown, as a weasel

It slunk under rotten willow limbs and logs

Until it came to an abandoned rabbit hole or badger set

And sunk in

As one youth chased it and wielded a log above his head

Prepared to throw it

The mink bravely poked his body back up above the parapet

Of the bank

It stood there proud and unafraid

Perhaps more curious of the danger

Because it was both threat and interest that the two parties showed

We the onlookers on the other side of the bank could not have offered threat only curiosity

But the youth with the log was less curious more a real threat to the mink

In the event we stopped the youth from throwing his weapon at the animal

Out of humanity for its off spring as her death would have left them helpless in all likelihood