A dam ssong (201020)

I hear the clatter of the rain
Feel the tug that summer’s flown
In my castle shut away
In England where my heart lies

I am not smart or rich or clean
Like all those faces on the screen
My life’s a humdrum tapestry
It sticks like so much shit to flies

Another day another day
Through my window to the world
Another great crowd chants and cheers
Triumphant songs never heard

So many dreams lie half awake
Whispers of neglected sleep
Loved ones smile and shy away
Waiting out those fairer skies

We stay inside for brighter days
Bearing pain we don’t understand
Lucky when we’re making bread
Sharing stories learning lies

And tomorrow is a world away
A world of hours wrapped in a day
A world of wonder to be loved
Caught in the storm-eye of the wise

Why we poppy

A red flower on your breast
Feeding thoughts of war
A century of life lost young
Defending freedom

In European mud the first seeds
Bloom among youths’ blood
Ensuring rights and laws upheld
Defending freedom

Yet wars and wars again
Beset our Earth, doom our kin
Piling dead poppies on the pain
Defending freedom

As a century of poppies passes
Blurring right’s, a little out of focus
Battles reign for Aurelian
Defending freedom

The Uprisen

Stańczyk by Jan Matejko (1862)

Stańczyk by Jan Matejko (1862)

I’m revolting in our kitchen
I will not wash another cup
Nary the bins are emptied
And I care not who’s turning up

In the toilet I’m revolting
You can guess the seat stays raised
A growing ring of gloomy grey
Entombs the tub in waves

The floor of our thru-diner
Is an irksome furry muck
For I’ve revolted against the oppressive regime
That bids I vacuum up

Window’s streak with weeks of grime
The laundry mountain hums
Shadows stretch from coves
– such as spiders hide –
Yet I’m sticking to my guns

Once in a while love stands the test
Resists worldly weights and… sails
Yet sometimes – oft noticed far too late –
Once in a while love fails

So leave me to my misery
Let this dirt I foster bloom
You Watch your ‘Bake Off’ finally
I’ll sulk, revolting,
in some dark room

Bedlam Museum of the Mind

A visit to Bethlem Hospital
Museum of the Mind this week.
Open Wednesday to Friday 10am-5pm
(unless you’re in a ‘group’).
I find myself struck by the times.

There is a wide range of art
as well as historical lunacies to enjoy
and the staff and ‘service users’
are impeccably informed and helpful.

Here are two of the few photo’s I took to remind me of the visit.

Harriet Jordan

Harriet Jordan

Harriet Jordan (after)

Harriet Jordan (after)

Silence

You, my blue lipped beauty
Stare glassily at this sky of fading fluorescence
Of panels and screw coverings
Sharing your long dead warmth with steeled neighbours

In my head your laugh is raucous
As I trip,
or burn another meal
Like how you snorted that day Paul fell off his new bike
Poor Paul
Or when Isobel helped us to decorate;
Daubing delicate pink prints on your mum’s new faux mink jacket
Hilarious

Noisy
Always
Laughing in my head

Not now
With that fine sheen to your fading makeup
So as you stare on
At your terrible cocoon
The silence left is closer

The noise in my head of you
Is loud
Ringing
Deafening
And eternal somehow even from your beautiful blue pout

143

Lying, cheating
thieving swines’.
Stole my life –
then broke my mind!

Caught my soul
and watched it shatter
Loaned my love for life,
to batter!

First they broke me!
Then they raped me:
Doubled back
and swiped my money!

My friend butchers –
beggars all!
Stole my brightness
killed my soul.

Those dawns you dance for
where loves eye might see,
leaves nothing to cry for,
still loving you greatly

Sad Tears

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.

My Private Wonder

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

Dark Is Night

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.

Hear that noise

Standard background sound radiation
perforating your life with hum
No screaming panic
Nor muted fear
Your lucky ears, in safe warm heads
Collecting your
Connected thoughts
Your fucking lucky ears

And in some world –
not far enough away from here –
Built of a soundscape you may not bear
Our brothers and mothers
Tune in daily
To that other mess
Cacophany
The daily execution
of sheer abhorrent sounds
A torrent of noise

Dropping!

Wood still warm
soft grain flowing
Ne’er speeding
Ne’er slowing
Natures wonder
goldly glowing

I can’t feel it
on my skin
even now
I’m tucked within
Oak enclosure
Earthly grim
Lowered cupboard
Holely filling!

Shakrilana

Last time in those pretty eyes
where your lust lay
behind cried spies
I sought fame
and found your breast
where rested head
these thoughts forget

Here the sun breaks bleak thru days
blown clouds fly free
float forms which ‘maze.
This last enchantment
seeks your gaze
though all are blinded
eyes ablaze

This single psalm is sung by tune
in pretty lanes
on afternoons
though winds and rain
fight for small sounds
their crash is quieted
when you frown

O

image: Jean-Jacques Henner, words: Bujonswords

image: Jean-Jacques Henner, words: Bujonswords

Brain

image: Stormgirl161 (http://fav.me/d2l5x97), words: Bujonswords

image: Stormgirl161 (http://fav.me/d2l5x97), words: Bujonswords

Down the long way

Slow delight,
accompanies the blissful trite –
expressionless bile –
as is presented.

Along the way
the slag of a light known as day
(though it’s furthest away
from his mind)
is spent
lazily, calling for soulless penitence
from a murkier past:
Not uncommon.

The municipal pit
where all thoughts and feelings enter
is full, brimming
with nameless creations!
No claimers and nobody looks for,
or asks for, their namers –
remaining silent
till they’re called from the nights.

Polisylum

Standby…
Standby.
Standby you!
Can’t get enough of that magic you do!
Stocks are broke
Oil’s all down the drain
you too get the feeling you’re here once again?
Standby – hold tight –
We’ll shoot when it’s time
wait for the clamour of bangs on the line.

Here’s the latest
broken news
We’ve forgiven Iran
The Soviets too.
Out of their madness and out of their heads
Our greatest have failed
to lead us to death.

Standby anxious
You’re not due yet
There’s time to drop bombs
Our gods hedging his bets
Stately you wait on
The pride of good taste
Please be in no hurry
to rush with the race.

Devilishly Quick

devilishly quick

image: http://ghostblade-13.deviantart.com/art/She-Has-Ghost-Eyes-138428202 words: Bujonswords

Inside

Groan
Pain seeks to find a source
Caught
In the process no one ever thought
Shunned
Left in the dark to find the self inside
Corrupt
So much self inside – better to hide

Inside

Part 26 (Likol Mouses)

A play on words, rather than an admission of guilt. Part 26 of Played at a different speed:

Whip it up sliced
like some nice
mice
caught within the hands vice
– power gripping
(evil trip).
The mouse runs;
tries running
– caught tight –
this could be
the last fight!
Struggle free to run
mice,
struggling cannot go,
mice.
End coming here
and coming near to you
Mice!
You’re small
and hand’s so big –
to fight free
gripping,
squirming,
never leaving here alive
mice.
You know it.
Never try
to get our food mouse
(it’s our food mouse)!
Never eat again
dying mice!
This crippling grip,
smell’s evil here.
Mice –
you’ll not go far –
mouse!
You’re dying
dead.

Tomorrow: Part 27

Lies Before the Storm

Remorse addles my memories
Pocketing each bliss afternoon
With the passions of night
The crimson rivers of my beautiful flesh
Lap the poison down
Sweet honey

Where do I want to be?
With my bad habits
and bad thoughts
Racking brains daily for other ways to see…
Rocking my bed hotly
(With hot rocks you understand
not hot rocking!)

My beautiful body
And rugged face
Lies blatant and huge
As this heart fights to keep pace.

Random Dinosaurs from Crystal Palace