And inconsistent;
largely light, reticent.
Struggling through
some lonely night –
I try to think; so on I write!
Music plays me,
curling strayly,
lost in worlds I cannot own.
Mindless – flightless –
walking slowly…
Soft in brains puss brought to show!
Short and tragically
we peer contemptuously:
Laugh at sordid, life-lost lightly.
On my grounds
I’m sure my folly
when the night brings losers; jolly!
Where are you bound cat?
Asked a horse in dulcet tones
Why ask you?
Are you interested in my goings
or comings?
The cat replied.
You, puss,
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.
I agree.
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)
became one.
The mighty sun beat down on vacant stables
Through the dark our moon glowed on nights effluent stream.
I’m out on my own
with my dancing –
romancing!
All soulish and lonesome;
all jumpy
and live.
In front?
Maybe once – but now
mostly behind!
It’s a frightening
awakening,
unabashed assault,
on my brain
every day
and it’s sending me old!
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
And imbibing
Deep breathing
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
pushes time
to just over the brink!
Just before he sleeps abed
He sings the tunes played in his head
These minute rhymes and dainty songs
Are his to sing, to hum alone
As noises all about are blocked
The sounds heard here are safely locked
Within the passages of his mind
And so they stay: Regressed in time.
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
Let’s get ready to shine a light
Here in the dark of our internet night
Plotting a coup in anonymous spaces
Driving the ire of inhumane wastes
Let’s shine a light on the core of these themes
Muster battallions through click-friendly meme’s
Inform those who’s backgrounds are hiding bones
Ransack the media, hammer points home
There is a real fight on our hands right here
Yes, unsettling but evermore clear
Some old-guard blackguards are keeping mum
Derailing all threats from your education
Let’s get ready to light the fuse
Shine our minds bright on this crippling ruse
Alas there’s slim chance of your own Eldorado
P’raps excuse tho’ to ignite future-wise souls
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.
Damn that deep red sun sets hard
Drowning days light in the tide of the dark
Sending in pink blushes of clouds last breaths
Triumph eternal in hourly deaths
The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)
So dreams come each night differently –
Last night there was a foreign tramp eating our swans
We fought – I couldn’t find my voice
In dreams I often don’t
One night I may be lost in an enormous house
Or fleeing an ominous villain
At night these thoughts invade my head
Escape my bed
Fill up the dead of sleep
Sometime ago I dreamt of flying
Skimming treetops down steep slopes
A quick paced spring and over again
A divine dream of falling down
This is the trick of these night flicks
Filling my brain with illusion
Each day I awake
Into a lovely right life
And take a tick to bring peace to confusion
But even these dreams
As glorious as stars
Never leave me wishing
They were how things are
Even though in my dreams I am healthy and wealthy
I’m richest with my Malika
Tears drop hotly from cheeks
They run down
Dry before they reach the ground
A store of tears built up o’er weeks
Dressed in coats dragged fresh from the streets
Worn bare
Reveal a heart so rare
Cold golden heart mired in defeats
Through windows high in walls
Open to sky
The saddest song drifts by
On cold hearts sits the saddest song of all.
A dark knock loiters out my door
I can’t tell what it’s waiting for
Somedays I catch it catch it’s breath
Somedays I brood on where we met
One night it rested on the wood
That shadow scarred like no claw could
And in the warmth of this close home
Wrapped deep in folds of family down
My burning ears and itching hands
Breathe deep, fold down and make a stand
Worldly lonely
This girl caught sadly
Bleeds and crying
Drawn from lightness
It’s her light
She’ll quit tonight
In this quilt of night
Her last flight
So she goes
Good girl gladly
No one misses
Or asks where she goes
Stalking quietly
Quickly lightly
Hunting them who cannot see thee
Hunching tensely
Breathless nobly
Pounce on pray so unaware
I can see thee
I can hear you,
In the darkness
In the light
You will hardly catch me sleeping
While a breath in your lungs haunts
Morning lately, noon or nighttime –
Never can I rest at all
Creeping slinky
Shadows crawling
Though I fear you in my mind
I shout loudly
Sharply strutting
You shall not my manner wane
But,
Come the still of morning
there is light.
Dark is night
and,
here the mind is made
of trickery to fright.
Dark is night.
To this
Claim all dark battles
You should fight.
Dark is night
AYE!
In darker dreams
An inner peace can soar in flight.
Blue panes filter white light through
In your eyes the reflections within
And this time I’ve lost it
I’ve lost all this time…
One night which flew quick was won
Sleeping with you I tried keeping
Alas my frailty shone
All pleasantry’s gone
The night was soon morning
When it’s my time to go.
As I gaze out my window
I am awe-struck by the sight
of a hundred moving parties
all reflective in the night
Around is pandemonium
these strangely floating things
with a thousand different body shapes
all rested on their wings
Their dances carry all night long
and on through half the day
Some feed, some fuck, some suck your blood
Each dies it’s death in space
Softly ruffled; her voice
breaking like equatorial tide
against my ear, my love
Tentatively closing on a body
quietly shivering (not with cold)
with anticipation
Wracked and closing loudly
as her breath hums tunes known well
the end is close, I’ve loved
All the while I listen for her
words pour out like treacle
my mind is alive with her games.
Open mic
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.
the first open mic poster
image: Jean-Jacques Henner, words: Bujonswords
