Lostening

We blink at each other
thru some fug of confusion
The slow eyeball roll
to a grasp for conclusion
I hear your noise distant
As when wisps of mists cloud
All the words that you say
And I blink in ascent

Some time some time ago
we sang the same lyrics
Your accented verbs
lit my mind with loves fire
Attuned to the vibrant chords
Lept from your full lips
I wondered the musical
majesty of breath

Yet here we sit side by side
Tone deaf and mystified
Straining to glean
just a semblance of sense
I hear you, don’t get me wrong,
My ears are not yet deaf
What i hear is not quite though what your tongue likely meant

Autumn 2016

Apparently it’s autumn in Otham
Though nobody’s told the sun
A parched carpet of crunchy leaves
Adding the “Shh” to our school run

Crunchy leaves

Land Gone Wrong

Finish it, land the final blow!
End this petty session
in life that always carries on!
Nothing left
and not a note to follow.
Take last shouts and Bellow…
There’s no one left to see the end;
This end!

I saw!
I, me!
I was there (among the crowds ~
the ones too quiet /
the few too loud).
The first day, week, month
then the year!
It was all set fine
so fine so near.
A bright beginning – freshest starts,
grabbed all the attentions
of fresh starry hearts…
Dragging them,
pulling them,
coaxing them on!
Those hearts that were keen ~
these hearts that belong
to the new ones
the fresh ones.
These beasts from the start!

And pretty were tunes
and beauteous songs ~
A land was delivered;
a hope without wrongs.
All of us hearts – crammed,
stuck to the brim!
But we loved it
and breathed it
and lived for the grin.
This new time was naked and nimble
we knew it;
our privileged parties just living along…
Invited
well treated
well governed and loved!
In their ignorant rapture ~
we drank and were drunk…

Then slow
it turned sour:
Though new,
not denied,
not quite new enough!
And though nobody lied,
there was no full truths taken ~
no fresh breaths of air…
So: slowly
we grasped it,
us budding bright hearts.
The ones who had followed:
the ones most beguiled.
A raucous mass
trailing
an order now failed.

So here’s where you enter
the end of old news.
The fall of more loved ones
all hearts cracked
en mass…
A tender old tale,
the past all encased
but now we are lost now,
and losing our way.
This new land was pretty ~
yet fated to change!
We killed it
and broke it.
Lost lowly, and dying
a few of us cheered
but most were left crying!
It’s finished
it faltered.
We move on to the
New!!

Early Spring Breeze

Ooo tinned breeze of early spring
How your guts do shake us
Flattering trees so bare (so rare)
Brushing back branches
Tumbling hair

Ooo tinned breeze of early spring
Waking and trembling our slumber
What do you prove
With abandon removed
As tomorrow sees roads blocked by timber

Ooo tinned breeze of early spring
Sent swift on us from Northern air
Where is spring’s warm touch?
The calm we love so much?
When will – your point made – you play fair?

Ooo tinned breeze of early spring
We know you mean no harm
But how you crash,
Smash, Lawn furniture
Still raises our alarm.

magnolia-198138_1920

the rain falls

a dropping constant in today’s bleak rush for tomorrows motional ideas and rewards, grasped at for the sake of change regardless. As home coughs its overused phlegm up from way deep back in time. As the race to use every last atom of life rushes ever onwards, screeching past all who ever thought they wanted it and past the next, tirelessly marking second-hand starts or bristling with excitement for the latest ‘greatest’ which often proves merely more complicated and intensive than those passed. Whilst every hour, by weight, more rain falls.

So where do all the puddles flow? Not steamed away by a sun too well concealed out in space by vast gatherings of carbon clouds, blotting all but the invisible rays of dancing ultra violets from brightening up our mornings. Deprived of heat waters fail to boil, they inch up round our lives – flooding street and town, home and farm, plants and pumps. Icily imbibing our land saturated in chemicals and yesterdays dead, stirring up the mud like so many should have done so long ago. And every hour, by weight, more rain falls.

What can we do now, but watch and wait? Listening to the stories and rhetoric of unlucky leaders flailing in time, as changes rush by them in plastic and radio waves too fast for too few to notice, far less appraise or employ. Living in the echo of our shared histories – bent only on eschewing blame – even as dark fault-lines creak and fissure under their own weight, in greed… Whilst every hour, by weight, more rain falls.

  • edited (improved?) and reposted from August 2015. Here’s a morose reflection on how things are for a Tuesday evening…
Rainfall in Venice

Rainfall

Mighty Blighty

Bogged in time.
Lost your flow?
Gave up the line?
Where did all your ideas fly to?
Quite lost and loose they blew!
Free from your head…
As quick as they’re aired
each got up and fled!

How swiftly life drags
at this wiry frame
while fixing the body
you gave up the game!
So tough to accept that
rough wings have been clipped.
Though your ire is risen
there’s no ways left to trick.

Each menial moment:
this drowning you feel –
no chance of escape –
you’ve no means of appeal!
So remember,
sweet Britain,
next time you’ve the chance –
grab tight hold of life
don’t just give it a glance!

Wrap up in the throb
in the beat
of the pulse
and give up at your peril:
Let go? –you’ll lose hope.

What to do

Write like a madman,
Write for the thrill
Capture your basemost thoughts and then think them deeper.
Scribble the pictures
For the sightless to see
Bring on the rapture, conjure the melee.

In rivers of lines
In puddles of rhyme
Seducing saturated minds
Time after time

This melody vital to motion itself
Exposing the night time
and serfdom
and spells

This is what to do to write…

The Stars

streak above tree tops
Sparkling for a spinning Earth to top
Burning light for a million miles
Shining back on upturned smiles

While heavy clouds sigh in the breeze
Impossible masses floating with ease
Descending into our world below
Spreading their cold and ominous glow

Fake light sombre in the clouds
Hidden faces deep in shrouds
Like a child lost in a crowd
Do you know where you are bound?

Steep are hills we tried to climb
Steep is your mind I tried to find
Afloat on your misted peak
Bloated features; out of reach

Broken Glass

Time for a change –
curling gracefully moment’s glide,
altering aimlessly.
& inside our soft heads
this sweet tooth did not once
bite down or taste sugar.

As my mushed eyes
fade, squarely, to black.
In time, all that I see
is furred and fuzzy:
Broken scenes all about
in flat black and white…
There’s more to seeing than eyes though
& more to see.

Time for a change –
so roving eyes abound
& capture all fleeting edges
all blurs of life
whilst whisking minds
to new sites & sights.
Different views
for the latest views.

412

Sulking in old boots and smoking dry tobacco into ringlets of fug there is a beautiful untouchable riding my memory like slow waves. Free to ramble through all my day-to-day wonderings this wisp of a witch leaves hints of her passing arse and brushing breast but refuses to shed light on any corner or artifice?! She chooses instead to skulk around corners and tease from the dark hollows of her once incandescent beauty. I am weak and willing and glad of her smokey company. This mirage of memory kindles warmth in my cold dark thoughts. She is far removed from reality by time in my head and far more intimate with me now, even thru her clouds and footprints… evaporating each time I try to get close.

Ooze

I’ve got this curly-whirly music
twisting through my brain

When I try and disembowel it
the tunes just run again

The time when I was happy, just
to hear it trickle through

Has gone away and left us
with the birds it up and flew

Lying in this crowded room
my shrouded mind lays dumb

If I try to lift my feelings now
my heart will only drum.

Ah November

I see you, poking your crisp nose
round October’s back.
Pushing away at her
just so you can drag us screaming
through your frolics and fireworks –
So soon burnt and forgotten!

Well, how chill will you feel this time
runt November?
Racing maniacally towards us
like you have anything to say.

Only last week I seemed to be swimming
in Augusts hazes and late nights
when suddenly –
November is eating into poor October;
beckoning the willing and the wary
to embrace the winter bullies.

I see you coming this time though.
Oh yes, sneak all you like you fireball of lies.
This year I’m ready and sick or not,
you’ll not put me down this time.

Ah November, just watch you don’t get too lost
in Decembers big promises –
remember amongst all the lies you’ll devise
that as quick as August was
so are you…
After the drag of October
you can but gallop by
all cinders and chills.

Short Song

Skyline beasts which beat
This pretty tune to death
Where loves crawled out the back door
And life’s lived short on meth.’s
How vacant and enticing
A story for the soul

Silent films once flickered
With warm thunder as a crown
When once beauty caretakers
In turns would bear the throne
Would this be dreams of starlets?
Could this be mornings’ due?

Falling Through Flaws

Please carry me home,
yours truly alone –
I’ve fallen in love
with a drowner!

Catch me when I’m smiling.
Chat whilst I’m beguiling.
I’m sure I’ll screw this
like my last loss…

I’m sad in my flurry,
so sorry this hurry,
a tosser I’m sound
and unbeaten.

This last chance of love?
Girl fits like a glove –
in the image of pleasure
and loving.

Duet

Light up the night
when you bring what is right
to the back of this slight
blood location
Go on light
shine so bright
This your light in my slothen night

Mine was this music
Your laughing made me sick
The tunes which I’d trick
For your tuneless ears

The scribbles of music
A mix and rewrite script
This music you hated
Your light saw me blind
I can’t play
Pluck the way
Not the way that you wanted thru’ day

This is our failing
your light and my wailing
for a tempo regarded by most
as absurd
Let us finish
this sour dish
A time to replenish and go our own way

star 3403

I am a shooting star
I am the ball
I soar through eyes that
last time turned in time to see my fall.

Inch by itching inch
This life’s
Now setting firm
a broad base made of my broken lives
from long before

The Recovering Goth

Please pile up your ponce
And pomposity
Line up your laughter
And lick
You’re liquidity
Offer your art up for critique
For query
Open your mind up
In time
To your history

Moth with woman on wings

Righteous Sprite

One fat big cold hardcore night
A big fat hardcore sprite took flight
A loud shrill screech pitched far too high
Blew the night black on the sky

Stalking lives not lived quite right
Well in the eyes of this righteous sprite
Alone it skipped and whirled in skies
Lit bleakly except by its own eyes

And swooped
Bit down bit hard
Sharp bite
Found yet another half-lived life

Diary

Moan moan moan moan
fart smoke eat groan
moan sleep smoke moan
groan moan moan

Stress fart sleep moan
worry work eat groan
smoke groan moan moan
groan shit moan

I slip quietly
from your voiceless noises
and flee
to the smallest room

takers rhyme

Someone takes it all
She knew
There’s someone takes it all
The sick heat of our
everywhere city-heads
crash against the wall

And in the broken bones
Of your crap dreams
Where cash has poisoned thoughts
And done-in trees
There are no wings
Nor cherubim’s

Giants of mirth ground down
She saw
Her giants of mirth ground down
Under weights of debts and pressure
So many ways to grind you down

Someone takes it all she knew
There’s someone takes it all
No floral wisps or sun rays
Dry her tears from this bleak floor

Who takes it all? Do you
Who stands fast taking
All the all?The liars robbing even bile
Still
There’s always more to take
Take more