We'll tell the Keepers
of the gates
that guard our varied heavens

-we weren't engaged in cruel crusades-

we just supplied the weapons-

Wind
has banked,
-grown little teeth-,
portentous new alignments
meet , exaggerated,
weather veined,
behind impatient
branches

Flames divine
entrancing shivers
breath, a ghost
an omen passed,
fragments carried,
Icy river
Holly-crowned,

She dances

All I've seen
are legs

of the bloke
upstairs

believe me,
they are snappable

I've knocked
his door

he doesn't
answer

loots
my calm
with his
bass enhancer

Look,

I'm an affable
kind of guy,
but ..

this ******
is testing my
patience

I want him
to die

Not so he rots
in a puddle of snot

-I still claim a frisson of feeling-

plus I don't want the hell
of that festering smell
or the pain of repainting
the ceiling...

I don't try
to be mean,
to stir-up a scene
but the grinning is
hard to pretend,

so I'll sit on my hands
and mutter those plans
for that thin *******
to end.

Pre somnabulation
I would taste the breeze

tease
the dew-lit louche
revealing airborne revelations

tingle,
soft of foot, divining
cool uncomplication

drinking deeply of
the hill-born wood
contented

in
passive eccentricity,
I celebrated unison

a humbling becoming
only dignity condones

When transitory laxity
forgave my foreign callowness

I took the private brook
to where the quiet rooks row home..

All this life
has left me staring,
passed me by as I was standing,
hands in pockets, thinking,
planning, something
I'm unsure of.

Long time - no sea

and feelings of the ocean-pull
have gained the upper hand,

There is nothing here
in writing,

just pigeon- breasted
righteousness,
increasing stipulations

All that meadowsweet
and moonshine ran,
to desert sand androgony

sank lower
than the daily dip
of fire's head in middle distance

Dizzy social densities
imported inner-city syndromes
proffer only impotence
of temporary reprieve

seems hard to bed
the disenchanted,
sickening for cigarettes
for solitary epithets

-ennui-

So, hide away
demands that breed
the need to know the answers

Been peeking
round the prism bars
empowered sense of self defeat

For sugared-melon hedonism
far too many lines have soured

Long,

Long time - no sea...

Mood

needs trimming,
handling,

thought

beseeches management,
preventions of digression

Yes,

I know these abled tangents,

-peculiar obsessions-

how they float up, moon- mouthed,
dream-lacquered vagrants,

Superlative deliverers
of profligate insistence

Their cool what-ifs
pontificate,

the vacant-eyed
rhetoricals,

excited by this delicate
existence