Like death warmed up

 Well I feel like death warmed up

Yes I feel like death warmed up

Just throw me a life buoy

Sing out ahoy

Brew me a cup

Cos I feel like death warmed up

Oh life can be so cold

When you're way out to sea

With your ship thrown about in the waves

And the galley slaves are howling out their grief

This life's pains seem long, and its joys too brief

When you feel like death warmed up

Waspish

 stung ten times by a wasp in the hood

It ain't doing no good, it ain't doing no good

Flyin' around lookin' for jam

That ain't a plan, that ain't a plan

Tryin'n to bully others weaker than you 

Ain't that true, now ain't that true?

Stung ten times by a wasp in the hood

He ain't doin' no good, he ain't doing no good

Why do'n't he go get a job, go get a job

Stop acting like a slob

All of these wasps they just be lookin' for trouble

they just be lookin' for trouble, lookin' for trouble

All of these wasps they just be lookin' for trouble

Yeah I'm tellin' you double

Cos I'm gonna burst their bubble, burst their bubble

This neighbourhood, isn't their yard, it isn't their yard, it isn't their yard

Where they can act kind a hard

They need to be barred

They need to stop actin' like a bear with a sore head, with a sore head

Like they've got a bee in their bonnet

Well I need to be honest

I'd rather be dead

Than be in a wasps bed

I'll need a coffin made of lead 

And get on it

Cry out my God I'm a hornet

Come on I was born it

I ain't but, you be tryin' 

To sting me good

In my neighbourhood 

Well you better watch out neighbour

You're in the wrong neck of the wood

Windswept moor - a sting in the tale

Walking on the Godney mile

When out of the sky flew a missile

It pinned me right at the top of the chest

This horse fly, wasp or hornet's nest

It was like a flying dagger

On a loaded spring

That the willows had whipped

Where the bluebird's sing

But the only thing singing that day on the moor

Was the wind that whistled

And my cry of pain that soared

Well what I had now was a creepy crawly down my shirt,

I slapped and I wrapped it, but it stang me and it hurt

Then as it tumbled down my tummy, I thought oh mummy!

It will be heading for my waist and my shorts. What's worse!

Luckily the offender flew on its way

But now I had a glowing red bulge upon my gullet

It itched sore like buggery, and my throat swelled

From wasp thuggery

Led me to believe I had been bitten by a bullet's burst

I pushed on and I did rub it to try in vain to dull it

But the pain did throb like a mullet had slapped me off my perch

The moors rolled on in soliloquy

Of a Roman revellery, when Mars the god of War

Is charging full red of face

Belligerently raging, the wind's war was waging

And holding hostage

Willows, reeds all in its embrace

Fellows linked arms and swayed

On that tortuous fierce windswept way

And faced the storm as they face the grave

Together as one, in unity strong and brave

Well what a wasp, what a stinger

What a counterfeit saint and a sinner

To have stung me that way, and then got away

I'm a red rosette winner

My throat swelled up I began to gasp

The sky turned sideways, cast askance

I looked one last look in that final glance

Saw my world fall apart and a fleeing wasp

I fell for what seemed to be days 

Down the rhyne in the gutter of the moor's water ways

And saw there all kinds of monster misbehave

From Gorillas in the ditch to crocodile graves

From the tombstones of vampires who could never

Find their rest

To the boomtowns of rats, just past the last harvest

And they each were a forgotten race, by the race of man

Abandoned and left to fend in their wayside caravan

As I slept in the wasp's sleep, it's poison did circulate

It turned my cheeks a crimson red

It turned my teeth an ashen black

As I chattered I did hibernate

Away from men's minds and matters

Into the dreamland of the wasp

He hovers above the flowery field 

He zooms in and out of the farmer's meals

And around pots of honey left at the rainbow's end

And I see that he killed me, so I might be his friend

I wake up near midnight

My back it is sore

My legs, are like black defenders

And what is more

There are no longer two

Six instead is their score

And my arms and hands into legs were blended

Nothing like they were before

As for my stomach, a thorax hard shell

Ribs like some titanium

Or carbon fibre as well

Light and of the strongest mould

Nothing less than from the fire's of hell

And I have no bum, no hips, no body

Except a bulbous bulge and at its end

A pointed stinger swells

I shiver at the sight, the thought sickens my stomach

But as I go to rub my eyes I realize

I have none, and then my spirits plummet

What has become of my head I can hardly tell

My mouth is some tapered visor and

With pincers there as well

As for my eyes they are disguised like some huge

Side placed globes, that stare out in all directions

No left or right I know

No night or day either,

Just shades of bright

And this is how I find the ether

Like a flowing road of light

I can see the sky rails

Can see the pollen trails

And thermals, the tiny discrete lines

Too miniature for detection by human eye

At last I notice behind me, folded in some natal sack

My wings like a quiver of arrows, ready for the attack

As I turn myself over

I feel them spread out naturally,

And beat and quaver and wobble and trim

To the humming sound of a bee

I rub my legs together

In some natural preparation for the flight

And before I take off I remember

To clean my large eyes

Ready to have clearest sight

Then I am off, it is lift off

The first unmanned wasp or kite

Is blown by the thin wind

His life to rescind

Which is better? Fight or flight?

I sail in the eves, I investigate nooks and crannies

Where I fail, my wasp heart believes

It can beat all the crooks and nannies

That if someone does you some harm

This sword will rebalance the scale

And you have to be cruel to be kind

In this world, for loser or winner will mind

That there is always a sting in the tale

Weather Forecast

 Dover white,

The Plymouth rock

Northerly right

Occasionally moderate Irish sea

Showers later heading

Southerly 

Between a Rockall

And a hard place

Biscuit with a German bite

Lying broken at Finestre

Wet weather in Lincolnshire

Sandra Bullock

In rehab

By Monday Lightning

20 degrees in London

Very much wetter

In the Sciliy isles

By Monday afternoon

I want all the time we got

I don't need sugar

I don't need cold or hot

But what I need most of all

Is all the time we got

So give me your honey

Don't give me your money

Give me yes but don't tie me in a knot

Because you might think it's funny

But what I want is all the time we got 

Give me your wisdom

Don't give me your gold

Let me have freedom, I'm tired of being told

What I can do, and what I cannot

I just want all the time we got

Help me out somedays

When I need it most

Just like a good friend, don't act like a ghost

I want to see you, we fell in love on the spot

Now I want all the time that we got

I'm trying to remember, where I might have seen you before

Perhaps it was in the movies or outside somebody's door

They're looking for you most ways, like it or not

So now I just want all the time that we got

I've been hiding, but now I'm tired of all that

Tired of running, and changing my hat

You can trust I love you not for what you are, but for what you're not

And I just want all the time that we got

Crow days

 It took me everything I had

Every nerve was strained

And as I sorted good from bad

I saw the clouds outside that rained

It was a fire in the morning

And a life that's half constrained

But if you want freedom here's my warning

Only dead men can be unchained

The tires are burning on the tide

The crisp frost's on the hawthorn

Blackberries turn a darker shade

By the water droplets churning

And if you think that you are free

Then I must pass to you this message

That even the birds who fly can't be untied

From their skyward passage

The farmer toils in his field

He moves his bones and muscles

Each sinewy strand of fibre burns

With every turgid tussle

His Solar panels reflect like a mirror to the sun

But even that gigantic globe

Can't move from the path it runs

And I ask the crow how does his life blood flow?

Black or red or mauve, from the bullet in the sun

And who said the dead can't go

Where they midnightly run

Led by that black clothed friend

Who each day shoots the sun

The wind rustles leaves with invisible muscles

Branches askances and ash keys are

broadcast seeds

I struggle to know the good or the bad

And the archer walks past my window

The windrows blow like hair styles

The archer raises his bow

And fires straight his arrow

Into the marrow, into the heart of the crow

She falls, she falls

Like a silence, falls like a fragment of sun

The sun bird so black of wing

Shining like the barrel of a gun

And behind her the torch burns out brighter

As the crow falls dead on the ground

And the parliament stops all its conspiring

And the kingly sun wears proudly his crown 

Summer Thunder

 The clouds are fighting with the night

In some titanic battle

High above they clash their shields

And their drums of thunder ratttle

They are just starting to unfold

So regal in their hopes

To conquer 

All in heroic battle

But the truthe wille be told 

by the homeward trudge of weary cattle

The horses neigh and rear their manes

And I can hold this day

no longer

let the fight begin

It fizzed in some unearthly dream

Way off over yonder

in the summer spring

let the gods of thunder battle