No perfection in struggled death,
Just the pellet tearing lungs, limbs, sinews
On an earth unforgiving,
And the gaping jaw -

Each shiver a reminder of the frailty of life
And death’s dark hunger
That will eat out raw each last breath.

Who could deliver the bullet who saw that private war ?
Death is no victory, but a bloodied mess.

November 2001

Cider Song

In the black night,
In the overgrown houses,
Old men sing their cider songs
Too tired to know that death sits by:

In the black night,
In the overgrown houses,
The old men sleep fitfully in freezing isolation
As a full moon sucks their breath
Then prods them to hard stone.

Tumour

I was in the room when the tumour was announced,
Though not so much announced as spared,
For breath was not around when that spare sound
Slipped softly into the room and fled:

Fled, for though I saw death all around
And imagined my soul there on that cross for all to see,
No one else had caught that sound
And it died on the still air.

Training Scheme

Lounging around, bored, I take my complaint to a man behind a desk
With a thin moustache and a weedy smile
Who mumbles, looks scared and says all the wrong things -
With ebbing confidence of bringing about change I leave him,
In his tiny room with the crowd of blokes all waiting outside,
Circle the workshop, blue-overalled, hands in pockets,
As a group plays cards, some chat, a few sit like statues.

At last, fed up, I leave, sneak out
And like a child from school truant along the road,
Soaring along on a motorbike with the wind behind my back,
Leaving today’s pointlessness all behind.

Mondayitis

Bad temper, misery, crying:
Half-choked sobs, stifled unhappiness -
Mondayitis, moving house, loneliness in a new city,
There’s not a lot I can do and I don’t -
Bright eyed and fluey you snuggle fully dressed into bed,
Reading, fire fully on, concentrating on the ‘now’,
Perhaps losing yourself
As I dash round in a ball of ‘doing’, half-tensioned,
Driving myself on as I cross out the points on my list -
Mend trousers, write letter, fix lock, make present ….
Funny how the list is nearly always the same length whatever I do.

Hospital Nightmare

Once you talked of dying, and my heart gave a heavy thump
As the blood drained momentarily from my face.

Death, yes, I can bear,
But not the thought of your eyes lonely in the white hell of hospital
As they bludgeon you with superficiality
And strip you of your essence,
Which is warmth, complaining, loving, needing and being needed.

I look down at your sleeping face, feel the heat of your body,
See your eyelids flicker, hear your deep breathing,
And know this is the way I want you to go.

D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

When my Dad left my Mum
They didn’t have a fight.

Not really.

Mum told him to go -
And he went.

Threatened to come back, though,
So she knifed him with her mind.

‘You get out!’ she screamed,
‘It’s D.I.V.O.R.C.E!’

Which it was.

That was a year ago,
And they still love me -
Or so they say.

But I don’t know.

Does love die just like that ?

Will they stop loving me ?

It’s made me look at this world just a little bit sadly.

July 2001

Moth

I watched a moth make ripples in a puddle as it drowned,
And felt aloof, detached, removed,
Stood distant from its suffering
As around, around, around
It thrashed in small tight circles but an inch away from stone,
So near to land and life,
Yet so distant, so alone.

I’d like to magic myself to the moon
And fly across strange seas,
I’d like to drift to the evening stars
And float on a scented breeze,

I’d like to dream as a child must dream,
Slipping away to the sky,
And call with the calls of the wild things,
And fly as the wild things fly.

To touch a star

To touch a star:
First, build a rocket,
Fill it with fuel,
Select your astronaut (yourself).

Next, find your map,
Look to the heavens:
Aim.

Now, as you travel,
Let the sun in.
Count the stars.

Pray.

Pause.

Take a deep breath.

You are free to travel space and time,
And your journey is completed.

2011

The city

Here’s a city with walls and doors:
Invaders are repulsed,
Night and day the workers toil.

The stars call down,
The King sleeps,

Two rivers flow,
Silent in the night,
Wide and deep.

5/10/2008

Success

Success is the wind in the trees,
A star in the night,
The green of grass,
The weight of your voice.

Throw the sands to the winds,
Whisper to your spirit,
Praise the moment and live.

Here’s to the long Now,
Here’s to the moment extended
Where the dance is accepted,
Here’s to the reality within -
For it’s that reality,
Day through day,
That’s the closes we come to success.

march 2009

This body

This body thumps blood and bleeds,
Breathes air and leaks,
Grinds foot and excretes,
Feels pain and screams,
Understands nothing, but understands more than me
Who, the owner in charge of a dumb machine
Charges round the night in dreams
And lives the day in confusion -

And yet, I’m told, the body is more than dumb,
Has an aura,
Energy channels,
Can feel other people nearby
And one day is an integral part of travel to the stars.

Dumb machine?
This body is part of the universe and knows as much as the universe.

24/3/06

Illusions

These squares are all an illusion -
Light reflecting onto cells in the eyes,
A brain that interprets distance
And makes sense out of chaos …

Reality is a whirling mass in the emptiness of space,
A rock rotating at high velocity as it shoots in an expanding cloud
To the edge of the Universe …

Reality is a maelstrom of particles
Dancing in a loose bonding around each other,
Held in a fraction of time to seem a door,
A carpet and what I stare at – a lino floor.

You were just hit by a vortex of uncertainty

A swirl of chaos spins across the room -
Doors open, a phone rings, a drink is spilt on the carpet:
And as suddenly is gone, leaving us breathless,
Irritated, flabbergasted.

As crazy as those times when – driving through town -
For a quarter of a mile cars career about,
Overtake, don’t signal, sound their horns -

God’s hand spinning a finger lazily
Through the liquid of our lives,
Sending mini-vortices of confusion
Across the planet’s surface,

Even through my front room.

October 2001

Body

Here’s the heat of a thousand rivers,
Intertwining streams connected
To meet at mini-suns
Then gather for the surge
Upwards -

Occasionally the world is clouds
In which we move,
Bubbles of thought,
Heavy bones in the evanescence of flesh.

27/01/2011

A short prayer

Dear God,
Thank you for looking after me.
Please help me to listen to you and obey you.

Amen.

I was a little bit bored and so I found myself a life (of sorts)
With a wife (of sorts – ow, she just hit me !)
And then I found myself out of sorts
With my wife of sorts
And my life of sorts -
Kind of a thought
(Of sorts).

I hate cooking

Grass harvested from the moon,
Herbs that grew on a glacier in the Andes,
Pollen that floated from Everest,
2 hours shopping,
2 hours in the kitchen,
10 minutes eating,
1 hour washing up,
3 hours crying -

I HATE cooking!

November 2007

Upside down

Maybe shadows are actually real
And the rain’s falling UP, not down -
And the sun only shines on BAD days
And a smile is in fact a frown.

Maybe the weather’s WORSE in Haiwaii,
Maybe drink makes me BETTER for wear -
Perhaps when I laugh I’m weeping,
And when I’m polite I SWEAR.

Maybe it’s all an illusion,
Perhaps it’s just me that is MAD:
Maybe the only solution
Is to always be UNHAPPY-GLAD.

Granddaughter

Sleeping on my grandma
Like a cosy slug,
Heavy in my stillness
In her gentle hug.

Words

He’s not in, ‘cos he’s out;
She’s not out, ‘cos she’s in -
Shouldn’t somebody make tautology
A sin ?

Wallflower

Ah well, sweet peas
Let us tremble at the knees,
No one knows my name -
Now isn’t that a shame?

Living with cat

I was looked after by a cat once -
It didn’t run over me in its car,
Or yowl and howl at me when I tripped in its path,
Nor did it slam the door in my face when I begged for food,
Or throw cold water over my copulating misdeeds late at night,
Or swear at me when I crapped on its lawn.

Yes, I could tell it was a good cat,
And so I let it feed me.

Now, aged 95 (or 10 years in cat terms)
I patrol groggily its lawns and crocus-beds,
Frighten off mice (just for the hell of it)
And am pleased to yodel pleasingly
At 4 o’clock in the morning.

Today, however, I’m off on a trip to the vets,
And am no longer sure whether I’ll be coming back.

This is this

This is this
And that is as it should be;
Who knows
There’s no telling
And in the end
It will be -
Because
All over the place
Things aren’t what they seem,
Never are
Since it’s all in the eye of the beholder
And what do you know ?

I know prose that says nothing
In a rhyme
Saying lots of things, really.

Meeting

I didn’t like him, he didn’t like me -
I have no idea why that should be.

Poet’s Life

A poet’s life is not half bad,
In fact it is a little sad -
Sat in front of reams of paper,
Eating now, and eating later.

Me and my video recorder

I once programmed a video-recorder -
Sat there for hours growing tetchy and grumpy,
Melded mind with plastic,
Brain-cells with paper instructions,
Feelings with electricity and silicon junctions,
Finally broke through to enlightenment
And found myself staring aghast and flabberghasted
At a remote that actually seemed to be doing its job!

Lost the battery the next week,
The week after that the video got kicked,
The week after that unplugged,
And then my kids pressed all the wrong buttons.

Now MY buttons stay firmly unpressed,
I will not rise to the bait of ‘how easy it is’,
Nor will I describe in loving detail to my friends
How convenient it’s made my life.

Instead it sits there, sulking and glowering,
And I ignore it -
Best way to deal with
MACHINES THAT DON’T WANT TO FUNCTION!

Life

If life is but a dream,
Why is it that I want to scream ?
And if instead a nightmare,
Who was it said, ‘Put that one there?’

T.V. thoughts

That the flickering owl in the corner
Eats my spirit
No one can deny:
But beat me with bananas,
Splash my face with water,
Chase me with your hoop la -
I’m not gonna die.

That the flickering owl with the wide eye
Is good for me
No one can deny:
But feed me with your opium,
Spear me with magic uranium,
Don’t bust my head with your learningum -
I don’t wanna fly.

Like leaden weights they hung their grief around their child,
Torn from her world of sunshine and flowers to mouth platitudes
She didn’t understand,
To weep tears she didn’t feel,
To vote with her fist and a small flag for change she couldn’t comprehend.

‘Look at how it’s affected her!’ they said,
And then with glee: ‘Let’s kill the bastards!’

Tickets, please!

No one with brains uses trains:
Far easier to hop there,
And cheaper still if you hire a Roller for the day.
Bring back British Rail!

Privatisation, the fast buck for the fat cat,
The delusion of market forces,
Has been shown to fail -

Don’t travel on the railways!
Buy a camel-train,
Or maybe rent an aeroplane,
Or jab yourself with a hat pin -
A more easily understandable pain.

22/05/2006

World Air Corp

Here is a message from World Air Corp. -
Costs have risen,
The Great Infrastructure that blows winds has been updated,
The price of metered air must,
To preserve your air supply,
Go up.

An engineer will shortly call at your home.

Meanwhile, enjoy!
And if you wish to invest in World Air Corp.,
Pick up the phone and give us a call!

We have already successfully installed air supplies
To Bangladesh, Haiti and Somalia.

Remember, no one ever went bust selling air -
Call us now and grab your share!

23/05/06

In the jungle drums will roll

In the jungle drums will roll,
Daddy’s boy’s elected -
His brother bent the voting
(Entirely expected).

In the jungle drums will roll,
It’s Big Chief Pay-Back time -
Line up with your hands outstretched
If you gave a dime.

In the jungle drums will roll,
The Empire’s got a Chief -
No one wants to point out
The man is just a thief!

Kid’s food, crap food

There’s this crappy product
That we’re asking you to buy -
We’re aiming it at your children,
And we’re gonna be quite sly.

We’ll give them little goodies
That will go with their crap meal -
The toys that they take home
Will be the BEST part of the deal.

The cheap and nasty food they eat
Is sold with great panache -
You really should appreciate
How well we sell this trash!

Crook

‘You’re just the local handyman,’
The local crook told me:
But my sort of handy’s useful
And people like it when I’m free.

Bearded Wonder

The bearded wonder’s furry face
Is an excellent hiding-place
For the man who cannot cope -
And really hasn’t got a hope.

Nobody in their right mind

Nobody in their right mind
Wants to die for George Bush or Tony Blair;
War is death pointed out by fools
And run at by impoverished heroes.

Thatcher killed,
And our whole litany of Prime Ministers and Presidents
Is a gloss of the debased
Rising to momentary infamy
On the bodies of the brave.

‘Pride!’ ‘Guns!’
Our ‘leaders’ lead themselves to wealth,
Killing – at a distance – by stealth,
For electoral success and tabloid cheers
As they praise the Lord and weep false tears.

Concept Poetry

I commissioned her
To write a poem.

She wrote it,
I sold it:

Concept Poetry.

Junk mail

They must think I’m really sad,
Or maybe just a little mad:
‘Which car would you like to win?’ -
Hey! Welcome to your home, this bin!

The Little Prion

The little prion survived 130 degrees Centrigrade -
No one knew if it lived in milk
And milk was in:

Biscuits
Cake
Bread
Ice cream
Baby foods …

No one knew if it lived in gelatine,
And gelatine was in:

Chocolate
Jelly
Medicine …

No one knew if it lived in meat-extract,
And meat-extract was in:

Crisps
Noodles
Gravy powder …

When the Minister fed his daughter
He knew nothing.

When the Chief Medical Officer made his pronouncements
He knew nothing.

When the teenager died
She knew nothing.

The little prion laughed
And had a fine old time of it,
Because knowing nothing
Is not a barrier.

I was 18 when they married me

I was 18 when they married me,
16 when I died:
15 and my hopes were full,
14, eyes still wide -
And all the time that went before
Was childhood in its dreams:
Their hands were light, they guided me,
Their truths were what they seemed.

Yet though the hours are filled up now
I sometimes see a light,
And kneeling down before my God
I puzzle on their ‘right’;
Their expectations moulded me,
I couldn’t fight their lies,
I struggled for a moment
Then died without surprise.

So what hope is there for my child,
Born to their bounded hell?
Though my eyes are opened now,
Will hers be closed as well?

Meditation

‘I meditate,’ he said,
‘Burn up my energy to flee the world,
Short-circuit the system -
Get a buzz,
Heal myself.’

Sure.

A flat battery’s no use to anyone.

The Minister

The Minister was foolish,
The Minister was wrong,
The Minister’s career
Meant he HAD to appear strong.

Oh, BSE is lovely,
It rots away the brain -
If only he’d had that excuse
Instead of personal gain!

Please, dear pygmy rulers,
Look up these words for me -
There’s ‘rigorous’, ‘analysis’,
And the big ‘Integrity.’

Testosterone Man

Testosterone man lives at high pace,
So big, so strong, it’s such a waste -
Soon dead, soon gone,
Such a shame he won’t last too long.

Anytime, Everywhere

Baa, baa, safe sheep,
I am not a fool -
Conform, conform’s
Def’nitely best of all:
Once for my culture,
Just to be the same,
And once ‘cos there’s nothing
Going on in my brain.

Web awards

An award of 5, I am impressed!
It seems your site’s among the best -
Oh! Let me check, oh, let me see,
How you’ve done so brilliantly!

Ah, you give awards and ….. wait – that’s it ?
But otherwise your site is shit?

It seems you haven’t much to say,
An echo of the world today,
Empty, vacant, void and bare,
There’s nothing here that you can share.
Why don’t you save us all some strife,
And go and get yourself a life!

Mrs. Flippin’

She was doing her job too well,
That’s why she had to go:
Her standards were too high,
The M.P’s were too low.

Mrs. Flippin’
Got a whippin’ from the dodgy boys -
They made an awful lot of fuss,
They made a lot of noise.

They whispered high, they whispered low,
They made it clear she had to go:
Mrs. Flippin’ got a whippin’
From the dodgy boys.

Oh! Vaseline, Mendacious,
Bobby’s son and Bleed -
Mrs. Flippin’ got a whippin’
Checkin’ out their greed.

In the land of the free

‘It’s War!’ shouted the papers.
‘It’s War!’ bellowed the T.V.
‘YEEES!’ screamed the people.

‘Excuse me,’ said one little voice, ‘but surely -’

‘SHUT UP!’ they all shouted in unison.

‘Excuse me,’ said another little voice, ‘but perhaps -’
‘N)!’ they all shrieked, sounding even more ferocious.

‘It’s WAR!’ hurrahed the radio,

‘But really,’ said another little voice, ‘shouldn’t we -?’

‘GO AWAY!’ they all yelled, ‘WE DON’T WANT TO KNOW!’

And they made him – and him – and her – apologise
For daring to question their world view,
In this -apparently -
The Land of the Free.

Variety

We’re so blind we cannot see
The beauty in variety:
It has to be explained away
As something that will one day pay.

Oh! If only we had brains
Not trapped in narrow, winding lanes,
And spirits that could touch the sky -
Oh, if only we could fly!

Lonely

I’m lost and lonely,
You’re my friend:
I’ve found my clique -
Now that’s the end.

Wife

I’m not really mindless but my husband is a fool -
To keep him sweet I shut my face, don’t talk to men at all.

I have a little trophy wife

I have a little trophy-wife,
The latest in a line:
She’s only just turned 20,
I’m sure she’ll do just fine.

I have a little trophy wife,
She sold her soul for gold:
We’re mercenaries, hearts of ice,
A deal between the cold.

I have a little trophy wife,
Picked to my high ideals:
She’s got loads of contacts
And will help to grease the wheels.

I have a little trophy wife,
We’ll sort the love bit out:
I’ll paint some false emotions
On the face of this old trout.

Aberration of morality

‘Stuff happens.’ as a bomb falls,
‘Stuff happens,’ as the wind blows,
Stuff your ‘stuff.’

Minds fold,
Brains close,
The world reduced to a power-mad
Aberration of morality.

I imagine, one day, a race of humans with:

Insight
Wisdom
Morality
Compassion
Vision
Imagination
Creativity.

Until then we live by the Old School’s Rules

Oil
Wealth
Power
Guns
Greed
Cunning,

Death glinting off cold spectacles,
Clean, mean, clear-cut simple minds
And their simple certainties.

‘Stuff happens.’

Death happens.

9/05

People Who Are Skilled At Bending The Law

People who are skilled at bending the law earn oodles of money
And we call them barristers.

People who are skilled at breaking the law earn nothing
And we call them crooks.

People who are skilled at observing people who are skilled
Laugh behind their backs
And quite honestly can see no difference.

Umbrella Song

My umbrella is protection
From all sorts of frightening things :
I shield my face from your harsh gaze
And all the woes life brings.

Doggy

For every dog upon the road,
Doggy leaves a little load:
Yet every manic doggy owner
Claims a perfect little Rover.

Seems every doggy turd I step in
Is a figment of my imagination;
And every mess upon my carpet
Is some other little doggy’s shit.

So give us DNA testing,
Microchip the dog’s intestine,
Give us decent doggy owners,
Or better still shoot England’s Rovers.

But nothing ever will be done,
Since no government wants the fun
Of being voted out of office
For sake of Rover’s unstopped orifice.

Milk

Mummy cows have baby cows,
Their babies are taken away;
The Mummy’s milk is fed to you
So your bones will break one day

Book

Their Book was truth,
Their book was Told -
Not only that
Their book was Old.

Us And Them

We don’t mind possessing you
But you’re not possessing US -
We still think they’re OUR property
So we’ll kick up quite a fuss……!

Car Boy

This is my car, I like it a lot -
It’s meaning you see, my existence is not,
My friends like my car, they like what they see,
They see my car and they see me.

F*ckedBritain.com

The trains don’t run on time
(The trains don’t run at all!),
They’ve privatised our breathing -
They say our Britain’s ‘Cool’.

Our letters come at tea-time,
Some Fat Cat’s on the make -
If you meet our Deare Leader
Give him a little shake.

Privatised insanely,
Our Britain’s nearly dead -
I wish someone would privatise
This anger in my head.

This illusion that we’re all HERE
Doesn’t tie in with the concept of space and nothingness between atoms,
Not to mention dreams, love, hate and hard work,
Tea at 5 o’clock
And the evening news.

Did I miss something?

All I had was the moon

It was in the dark that the old moon shone -
By day it hid.

Snuck behind the trees in its still, slow journey,
I wondered how the world turned,
How we – ….

Well, how we.

You could sharpen a knife on the gathering frost,
Take home pocketfuls of stars for sweets,
Stretch your ears to the wild shores in the silence.
Ages were held in the palm of my hand,
But I glanced at them -
The planets sang, but I couldn’t hear.

It was just a moment, too deep to understand:
All I had was the moon,
Making its slow journey.

25/01/2011

Does he know that his wife’s unfaithful

Does he know that his wife’s unfaithful
And looks at me with a secret smile -
Does he know that his wife walks
In a way no woman walks
Whose mind’s on the straight and narrow ?

A little sweetness, a little light,
A ray of sunshine, looking right -
Does he know that his wife’s unfaithful
And looks at me with a secret smile ?

The sea stirs silent in a ripple

The sea stirs silent in a ripple
On meddled shore, still dream hung, sun worn, warm, space flung
Broad in full meaning on a distant run,
Ships outdone by a shadowed pall
As they sit like giant ghosts on the horizon.

In the beckoning of out nets shrimps flick dismay invisibly,
Fleet sand sparks leaving clouds of smoke
To tell us that they’ve gone

Into silence.

Art

Here:     this   is   a   poem.

I made it from fifteen words

Arranged   in     a   square.

The meaning is the context.

You can call it two sentences;
I call it Art.

Sold

For 1 million.

There’s this miracle

There’s this miracle where :
‘Wanted – Peruvian chest of drawers, handles of string’
Will appear above this advert:
‘For sale – Peruvian chest of drawers, handles of string’
In a newsagent’s window and I wonder:

Do they ever come back and see their adverts again, these two people,
Or are their signs posted like birds to fly and twine
Before going their separate ways,
As their owners skulk in dark corners
Wondering if anything’s been seen?

These Poems

I can’t help myself with these poems,
If poems are what they are -
A few words that become a torrent
And then subside,
Well up again,
Captured before they ebb away for all eternity:
And in that capture I find
Some primitive release,
A longing absolved,
A pent-up problem solved.

My Neighbours

Oh, my neighbours say,
‘Look at those clothes he’s wearing today!’

But I say -
It’s easier to change on the outside.

What is a dream?

What is a dream?
A dream is a goal,
An inspiration,
A dream is where Hope lives,
A dream is something to chase when life drags us down,
A dream is a song in the wilderness,
Good flowering from the mud of evil.

That is a dream.

Get yourself a dream,
Touch God and pray
And never, ever let your dream get away.

I can wrap myself in a world of words

I can wrap myself in a world of words,
Knotted around my head
In a colourful spelling of character and place,
Mood and time,
Feelings and fascination -

A world where the only sound is mine,
Where the only dance is the dance of ryhme,
Where the rythm’s chase is sublime
And the capture of a word in a sentence
Means more than all the weight of politics,
Almost as much as a star falling into place
Or the kiss of a summer’s leaf upon the wind.

Another little miracle

At work we went from strength to strength,
Seems we were on the same wavelength:
I left – we crossed paths now and then …
The wavelengths changed, and never again.

There’s a Reach Towards the Heavens

There’s a reach towards the heavens
And in the sun within my eyes
A door to greater things
And a distance I must fly.

Self Pity

When I was born the sun lay down
And time called out for the clouds to lead me on
But I refused to dance
And set up all the wailings of a newborn child,
Bitter at my loss,
Saddened by my plight,
Born to dust and earth
And dreary endless blight.

Being a Man

Being a man’s O.K
But the raging horses are a nuisance -
You can’t let them run wild
Or they’ll tear you apart,
And if you coral them
They respond by kicking the fence down:

So all that’s left is to get with the good woman
And let her tame the beasts.

Still trees stand proud by the neck of the river

Still trees stand proud by the neck of the river.

The gloaming, all gloom, defeats their shape,
Knocks out all colour.

Sounds:
Rushed water’s wash,
A child’s sharp cough -
Scuffled leaves.

In the depths of their slumbers the beech trees and chestnuts
Feel out their warmth in silent contemplation,
Gathering in hours.

Held in an anvil of quiet the evening goes nowhere,
Waiting in expectation
For a pause
That never comes.

March 00

My Gently Melting Face

My gently melting face
Drips down the mirror
As though lies and lakes were mapped on the moon;

My gently melting face
Turns inwards,
Eating away at the beauty of youth,
Carving out age,
Holding my values to the world for all to see:

My gently melting face
Unfortunately
Is me.

Consider This

Consider this: that though I say I love you,
Love dies at the lips:

Consider this, that though at times I hold,
There is no mystery in this grip:

Consider this, that though at times we bond and make
All earth move, it is no great shakes:

Consider this: this marriage is a mystery,
That works without Divine laws,
Is shaped and tamed, contains its flaws,
Still holds water,
Loves and dies,
Reborn on a second,
Shattered by some cries:
Consider this: do you consider this?

2/3/99

Days

I’ve drifted across a day like a cloud,
Wasted the wealth of hours,
Washed my face in dreams
And touched on the Infinite Almighty with a prayer.

Other days I’ve rushed round like a tornado,
Smashed through minutes,
Seen Time flit away
And finished with a Bang not a whimper
As my exhausted head hit the pillow.

Who is to say which is right ?

2002

The Drunken Poet….

I am a tool so shaped creation echoes me in all my glory,
So shaped the songs I sing sing out my name, the dreams I bring ring only
What is mine and from whence I came: I am master of the flame:
Proud, defiant, I feed myself myself and reap myself: the same.

The Fool’s Reply

You fool! You mock your God whose power draws out your heat in poetry
And claim for yourself God’s tongue -
You fool! You merely listen and transcribe with sensibility
Those miracles God unveils, the wonders God sets free!

20/10/99

Oh! To be that which swims, climbs, flashes fresh air

Oh! To be that which swims, climbs, flashes air,
That runs, turns, chases things, travels, meets and soars,
Oh, to be there! And meek meet with just cause
All life in its glory-fling, all past care,
Oh , to share in that spill and spell, to dare!
To mind with no-mind the edge of Nature’s laws
And spring swiftly with no regretful pause
On hand, foot or wing lean, low, considered, spare -
To be that thing! To snare a moment’s call
And from proud upswing fall with rhythm’s grace
To strength and pull, Oh, to feel God’s rule,
To bend, take, curve all motion’s sense and haul
The living might through every angled trace -
To live with pace and break free through the wall !

11/1/2000

Gift

Wendy, my dear,
You gave me a book
(Which after all is just a thought),
And there wasn’t any thought:
And that speaks volumes
More than volumes.

Sung, in the half-light of shadows’ play

Sung, in the half-light of shadow’s play
The children’s song, I sing
My long-gone song flaming on inside;
What’s done is never done, stays on as One,
Sung song sings, belongs,
Can never be undone, is never gone,

Begins in each day’s new-woken dawn
That song sung, and sings at one
As each day sings its song; theirs is begun,
Mine done, but sings at one with their song
My song sung: we sing as one;
Moved, moving on, age and youth’s same song.

The whale sailed slow beneath the moon,
Its baby by its side,
Crossing oceans three miles deep
And thousands of cold miles wide.

Cyborg

A hot metal stomach,
Glass to help my eyes,
Electric ears,
It’s also a surprise
To find my feet can spin
And I’ve artificial skin!

Who am I?

Boo!

Little star,
Shining bright,
Went ‘BOO!!’
Gave Moon a fright!

Mum’s instructions

Brush your teeth dear,
Blow your nose,
Clean your shoes
And change your clothes!

Feeding time

A zooful of children,
Eating food,
Mouths wide open -
Oh, so rude!

Snacks

Bread and butter for my tea,
Slugs and worms for snacks:
I know you don’t believe me
But those are the actual FACTS!

Bubble

A bubble is a miracle,
Fragile in the air,
A skin of stretched-out water
Floating everywhere.

Fly

This fly
Could be a spy,
Buzzing around
(Annoying sound),
Hither and thither,
Fast in a flicker
It’s changing direction,
A new location,
Barely in sight,
Incredible flight -
What does it see?
Does it see me?

The little seed

Blown on the wind,
Trampled by the rain,
The little seed must find its place
And grow a tree again.

See-saw

See-saw, Marjorie Daw,
Clickety-bang wallop
Bang bang click -
Looks like this see-saw needs mending.

The Cat with a smile

The Cat with a Smile
Will wait for a while,
Cleaning its paws
And sharpening its claws,
Though for what I don’t know -
Perhaps it’s just show?

If there’s a mouse nearby
Perhaps it should go ….

The moon

The moon is washing windows,
Dancing off the glass,
Resting on the praying trees
And painting the sleeping grass.

Rhino soup

Rhino soup
Is a bit of a gloop -
If we want good karma
Let them roam the savannah.

Glitter

Glitter on my fingers,
Glitter in my hair,
Glitter on the carpet -
Glitter everywhere!

Runny egg …

I ate a boiled egg
That wasn’t cooked quite right -
The white was liquid jelly,
My face was quite a sight!

Bad cat!

The birds are feeding in the snow,
Pecking at little seeds -
The black cat’s at the window,
Thinking of evil deeds!

Little kitten

Little kitten rolling around,
Chasing a piece of string,
Fluid in its beauty,
Amazed at everything.

Dragon

If you see a Dragon
Sitting in a boat,
Scare that little Dragon
By saying her boat won’t float!

Party

Hands – clap,
Fingers – snap,
Feet – tap,
Mouth – sings,
Laughter wings
Its way round the room

Naughty children

Football in the classroom,
Teacher’s just gone out:
Little Willie Nelson
Was told to give a shout.
Oh, she’s coming back!
Oh! We cannot wait!
Little Willie Nelson’s
Been left to his sad fate!

Bath

When I’m in the bath,
I like to play for hours -
Splashing water on the floor,
Building big foam towers.

Cat Song

The cat was proud, it’s neck was long,
It played a howly, wincey song
That struck the neighbours in the head -
They wished the blasted cat was dead!

Angels

Angel 1 and Angel 2,
Fast asleep in bed -
Tell me, little angels,
What’s in an angel’s head?

Digging in the garden

Out in the garden,
Playing in the sun -
Pulling up the flowers
Is everso much fun!

Racing pigeon

The racing pigeon’s extremely fast
When chasing after food,
All other birds are pushed aside,
Which is extremely rude.

I wash up

I wash up,
You wash up,
He/she washes up -
We wash up,
You wash up,
They wash up.

If only.

Mum’s view

Fish fingers for her dinner,
And butter for her tea -
No wonder she is fonder
Of her Daddy than of me!

Spots

The Leopard’s spots
Cannot be caught -
Unlike measles
Which you catch off weasels.

Picture

There’s a picture on the wall,
Of me when I was quite small -
Who’d have thought
I was so short ?

Clean fish

Every fish that’s ever been
Has tried at some stage keeping clean -
Which is quite tough in dirty water
(But Mummys always say you oughta!)

My little lord

Sitting on the carpet,
Looking at T.V -
This is how I like it,
Everything brought to me!

Children

Two kids,
Two tunes,
Played together
Like two spoons.

I hadn’t seen the sea before

I hadn’t seen the sea before,
(Which isn’t strange since I am four) -
I hadn’t seen the sea before,
It’s really BIG out there.

I hadn’t seen the sea before,
(The waves keep rushing to my feet!)
I hadn’t seen the sea before,
I’ve just got to stare.

Old cat

If you see an ancient cat
Staring out to sea,
Give it a little tap on the back
And say it was from me.

Lemmings

The lemming travels far and wide
To throw itself to death:
Someone must have told the lemming
The lemming’s got bad breath.

Out on a cold day

Out on a cold day,
Out in the sun -
It doesn’t really matter
When you’re having fun.

Bin and gone

The binmen have bin,
The bin has gone -
This is the end
Of my silly song.

Aeroplanes

When aeroplanes fly
They fracture the sky:
But the cracks are quite clean,
And so can’t be seen.

Fighting Witches

Deep and dark in the evil sky
The witches fought ’til by and by
They got bored chopping off each other’s heads
And went back home to their bloody beds.

Cuthbert

Has anyone seen Cuthbert ?
He hasn’t had his cuthtard.
He is a naughty boy -
He left his saveloy!

Nobody saw what I saw

Nobody saw what I saw,
The strange thing in the sky;
All they did was comfort me -
“What WAS it made him cry?”

Spiders

I couldn’t sleep for spiders,
Spiders climbing everywhere -
I couldn’t sleep for spiders,
Spiders all round me.

I couldn’t sleep for spiders,
Spiders climbing in my hair:
I couldn’t sleep for spiders -
They’re all that I can see.

I couldn’t sleep for spiders
(Someone keep the light on bright!):
I couldn’t sleep for spiders,
Oh! What a terrible night!

Bogies

Bogies come in different shapes,
In different colours, different weights,
Some are straggly, long and thin,
Some are wet and won’t stay in,

Some are smeared across my face
(Losing them would be a waste),
Whilst others must be flicked away
Because they cling and want to stay.

My sister says bogies taste great -
She’d love to eat them off her plate!
But since her nose is now empty
She’ll have to have a proper tea.

This little red sock

This little red sock’s
Floating round all free -
This little red sock’s
Here to torment me!

This little red sock’s
Hiding in the drum:
This little red sock
Is having so much fun!

This little red sock’s
Dyed my clothes all pink -
This little red sock’s
Made my wardrobe shrink!

Spot

Squeeze the bugger out,
Let out a little shout,
There is not the slightest doubt -
That hurt!

Are Martians real?

Are Martians real?

Yes.

Daaaad….

Yes, they’re real.

Do they hurt you ?

No. Not the fat ones.

Are there thin ones ?

Yes. It’s the thin ones you have to watch out for.
They eat you from the inside out.

Daaaad.

But don’t worry, there’s no thin ones here,
Not in this house.
They’ve all gone.
They’ve been eaten -
By the fat ones.

Daaaad…..

Are Martians real ?

Custard

If all the custard in the sea
Was second helpings just for me,
Would I ask for more ?
I’m really not that sure.

My Doll’s Got a Sister

My doll’s got a sister,
Little sister.
My doll likes me,
But she likes her little sister more.

‘That’s O.K,’ I say,
‘Sister’s are good.’

Mummy says I’ll have a sister soon
(Only not to be surprised if it’s a brother,
Because sometimes even adults can’t tell) -
I don’t care.

My doll’s got a brother, too.

20/8/01

The book
Let him sleep on its pages,
Caressed his hair,
Mothered him:

The Book opened out its wings,
Let him fly,
Let him weep out his sorrow,
Its sorrow,
The Book
Was All-Consuming:

When he emerged, at last, ruffle-haired,
The Book disowned him,
And they were divorced:
But the Book’s knowledge slept with him,
Still does -
The Book was Proud,
And so was He,
And They Never Talked About It Again.

8/5/00

A blackbird said a word,
And that word was just too beautiful:
I thanked the blackbird for that word -
And blackbird then thanked me.

July 00