the simple things
are backdated to yourself
like vain glass  
you rareify your blaze

she still remembers her wedding day
the ring on her finger
for better or in poverty
in sickness or in health
Like a facsimile taking in an oath
An institution with poison ivy prescribed
Nothings wrong with the intuition
merely the players

I am moonlight
You are sunlight
I am pale,
murmuring low
You are bronzed
with a glow

in the midst of springtime
i utter  your name
like a cherished Pray
I hang unto hope

i will not eat your fruit, barrow lady,
you must be Eves daughter !
and you must be Adams son  !
she said with a scornful glare
the softest fruit are the devils tastiest

the blue boys flounder through the town
looking for blue girls
to share a bed

The lonely boys then pick moon beams and stroll into the recesses of the night

Beach head, light top,
regional Frisco veteran
full powered chick
irradiating your enemies,
and smoking  from their peace pipe.

I stood inside the ice palace
wary of the spiders from Mars
and all i heard on my ****** radio
was Space Odyessy
Then i stepped out in the sunshine
knowing all my dreams had gone
and the man who sold the world  was me

Aliens dressed as Americans
eating Wigwams for thanksgiving
and celebrating General  Custer
with their custard

when our streets  are green again
the most natural thing you'd like to see
was Mr Fox invited to no 10 for tea
and hedgehogs drinking from
pristine watering holes
and the otter swimming canal upstream
Then we grow on love

i could be your lifeline
you could be my brook,
in times of trouble
we shouldn't overlook.

Over sad and tumberous plants
I skipped  with awe.
Meanwhile at home
i hid behind the sofa
afraid of a voice

come and enjoin in the procession,
wear your Khaftan
and incant with  pride
scatter roses, inscribe love
youth against the old beatniks ,
and lavish at our break neck
Pacific surge.

Aliens disguised as Englishmen
proclaiming their right to be roast beef
and a Boers inalienable right to shoot at him

Munchies are not nice when
they stick to the pallet
The  cat dived under the pallor of the moon and a car had to swerve to avoid him.
A Miss Jones gave her heart  away
to the first local parishioner
who walked her down the aisle.

we are all dolphins at heart
in the present flow,
life passes us by
and the twilight hours comes quickly

lavinia will walk through the dizzling rain,
to the artists colony this morning,
instinctively in and out of clothes
a bug in the bold long grass.

Upon leaving without her raincoat
she'll make a perfunctory impression,
nonchalant in cherry lipstick
blotted in another's dreams.

im in heaven
with my black bread and chichory coffee.
All i need are monkey nuts
it takes a man to know his worth.

the war sky turns red
its time for cranking up
this disappearing act again

The  tortoise shell cat Rosie with only three legs
and the matron who married the headmaster
a mariage de convenance as the French would say
and his Labradors Captain and Brigader with their whipping tails
And live in teachers old as hills

in the stillness of winter  
the dark city annoints
obscure spirits flying by.

Sadness finite like drizzled rain
longing, banished by a spanish guitar
esperer too distant a word .

Magus Alexander  McNair
Son of Autumn  
play your lute
summon the seasonal offering,
my shephered.

A cold smile greets my face
as the blue boy searches my soul
with an electric comb.
Now I am crying
because I no longer exist
as I have to sleep with
no Knowledge.

in the air i smell chicory coffee
beware of the Huns.
Their  trenches may be close
Achtung ! Achtung !
I am correct.

Striker are you drifting deeper ?
like a central defender on recourse !

Oliver is different.
He is a risk tolerant,
opening umberllas indoors
shoes on tables.
Its just a phrase he is going through
I know because my  Dad told me so

The poet needs a muse,
it can be a well lit woman
or if failing that a cat.

Love is like a mechanized lullaybe
like a chain smoker
open to the cut flowers

the blue boys wander through town
looking for blue girls
to share a bed

The lonely boys pick moon beams and stroll into the recesses of the night

The clown stares at me
he thinks he recognizes me
like our blood coalugates.
I dont have a war face
or hide between shadows
I am fully suited by choice
no psychosis to test.

come and enjoin in the procession
bear your gifts
and recite with wind chimes
See  the warring parties
scatter roses, inscribe love
youth against the beatniks ,
and lavish at our psychedelic suggestion.

I sleep well
but my dreams are bad
I dreamed i was at Mafeking
and the sunrise was frail
I couldnt see my enemy
but the relief of not knowing
(was if my own measures)
were a seige too far

The glossy dancers swarm
vibrating against green theatre curtains,
visceral feelings
heavy heels worn.
They dance for purity
only second guessing heaven.

Soaked with lies
the arcaduim sighs,
listen to the falling leaves.
Ghosts will chase you,
winged creatures will crawl
(moving mountains with toil),
and you will find no relief.

Begging eyes
asking for loose change
you are faminised

You can't  fish in the sky blues
youve misspent your life in detention
so get used to the jamboree

Beach head, light top,
regional Frisco veteran
full powered chick.
Youve outpaced the bikers
irradiated your enemies,
and smoked from their peace pipe.

Cats are mystical  creatures.
Their moods are rangeful;
when its hot they plonk themselves
on your lap,
when its cold they sleep all day
Do they think it be better in the night?
And of course if you are afraid of them
they instinctively sit next to you
hoping you unlearn your fear !
A cat can never be a cliche
they are too cunning
its up to us humans
second guessing them.

Cats are our friends,
they're a gift from ancient Egypt
and when they offer you a mouse
accept it with due diligence.
It's their hail from Atum Ra's moment.
They are intelligently dexterous
yet determined.
I like the tuxedo variety,
akin to the best suited James Bond,
service with an  indelible  smurf
all 009 lives of them.

if azure skies were  for clean people
and clean people were for the Queen
the Queen was for Empire
with the Empire being gold.
Gold for the minions
and minions for the saints
what a convoluted world it would be.

who knows if a smile is really a frawn?
and if a zebra is a striped donkey instead?
who knows of white lies!
and the harm they do,
like a cuss  before the mornings
prayer!

Fabia the long distance of dreams
drew me to you,
share your promises with me,
and journey with truth
to the forests of the east
where maidens dance so freely.

when it shines i daydream about Minia
and I retrace her footprints,
blessing where she stood
on silver threads of love,
still tasting her aroma.

Sleep is like sludge
once you get stuck
it draws you in.

Dreamweavers are dusky,
storm voyeurs.
You never can get enough,
once it takes you over.

save our cities
widen footfalls,
build flats for ownership.
vote Labour to protect our libraries,
make Croydon travel zone four,
and try for Americanos for less than 2 pounds.

Josephine will bake for you
and iron your clothes,
but never call her fancy free
for she has much love for you.
Build her dreams by making
her a greenhouse ,
where she can grow her asters
and think of the stars,
glistening so brightly
for someone so natural.

once more to the coast
to rekindle our relationship,
braving the dunes,
that so much reminds of our travails.

Carleigh is thinking of you,
she wishes happy birthday
and hopes the weather isn't drear.
She's the girl with the right answers
who lives alone with Topsie her cat
and has an orchard of Apple trees.
She likes the personal touch
with fragrant letters she send to you,
and bicycle rides in the early spring.
But never pigeonhole her,
her smile has so much abundance.

she plays with your heart,
and on lonely days she murmurs
a lonely tune,
to wrong foot your dreams
on  drear morrows.

November is our treasured month.
The sky is chilly late Autumn,
yet colours seem to prevail,
with tiny asters and
the soft hue of hydrangeas resonating
and acers brimming red like beacons
on such drear days