Where are you bound cat?
Asked a horse in dulcet tones
Why ask you?
Are you interested in my goings
The cat replied.
the horse whinnied.
are too impertinent for my liking!
You – dear horse – are too ignorant for a horse.
This said, the cat rubbed it’s body about the great calves of the equine!
And you, generous feline, are too
bold for a creature of your minority.
Shall we walk?
The cat moved off,
the horse followed.
What a glorious day!
Remarked the cat as they wandered
out to rolling landscapes.
Was the horses only exclamation.
Now shall we not continue?
The cat seemed restless.
No; you are correct!
A cloud enveloped them
and the horse,
(in its giant monstrosity)
and the cat,
(in its sly minority)
The mighty sun beat down on vacant stables
Through the dark our moon glowed on nights effluent stream.
Bored with work ‘cause there’s too much to do
Wasting my time instead listening to music
Writing words to fill my head
Filling my soul with the takers of pain
Drinking some smoking then writing again
To scribble again
Slow music better than no music
Quiet music better than loud
Hot tunes hold my mind in line
This night goes so slow – so unkind
The shakes once again start me shaking
It’s the fault of quick thinking whilst sitting
The tongues through my head
Keep me waking
Drastic action has me waiting
So long that eyes close under eyelids
Strange thoughts prop my psyche
Weird music and thinking
Sad slow – stoppage drinking
to just over the brink!
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
Sparks which light up this sky so bright,
to light the hearts of youth tonight.
Those that whistle, whirr and ping:
showers that usher the winter in.
Loud bright claps
and whooshes of firepower
launched from the dark,
glowing, burning…then embers.
For this sharp date
when kids stay up late,
steals breath from all lips
frozen, open and baited.
Tonight the sky is blistered light
and caught in brains
and smoked so bright.
Things need to change Complain complain complain Lets do something about it Somebody already is Well lets do it as well It’s not going to change anything, nothing ever does Lets do more Nobody will come Lets do it differently They’re busy doing their own thing Lets do it in the dark Nobody will care Lets do it with people we don’t know There’s already too much of it out there Lets do it in Beckenham
With a microphone
In a bookshop.
Having spent much time reading many of your words on screen, I recently got a hankering for some real, in-the-flesh poetry. A few events in London and some irregular You-Tubing later and my appetites whetted… Thankfully, the thoughtful wordsmyths at The Beckenham Bookshop agreed to support my urge to witness more of this on my own doorstep. Ergo…
Here’s your invitation to a free, Open Mic, Poetry event in Beckenham, London.
Tuesday 1 March, 6.30PM-8PM.
Sign up on the door for a 7 O’Clock start, with each artist given up to 5 minutes airtime (depending on numbers), you will enjoy a poetic reception at The Beckenham Bookshop and see the start of a regular, ‘local’, poetry event.