breezy
and again
bleary

wind hair face cold
semi-
conscious

some kind
of musical

playing tinking

as the ticking
makes no
blare

blah

lids
half
glimpsing

glitter
recent performer's static chaos

passing past
"the Garden Village"

oh
the night's
lazy
and
black

--

just got back
(like you...?)

smoky smoky smoky smoky smoky

  smokysmokysmokysmoky
smokysmokysmokysmokysmokysmokysmokysmok­y
smokysmokysmoky
smoky
smokysmokysmokysmokysmoky

wh
wh
wh whwhwhwhwh
whwhwhwh


why?

left
aligned

                                                        ­                     middle middle

                                                         ­                                                                 ­                                                  ish            "Jim the fish"



just
T
H
I
N
K
I
N
G




and swaying to
the
twirly
of
this
planet



                                    ­                                                  i wish i could hear
                                                            ­    the ****** of the stones
                              that for some crazy reason
    you threw at me when we
were sitting on a
log

and talking

i loved

talking to
you

**still do

in a squiggly
hole

in a silly
wood

in a spock inventor
planet

in a spiffingly spotty
universe

there lived a
space alien

...his name was Bob
and he liked haloumi


...he liked observing
humans
serving haloumi
on a plate
with crackers
in their sooty restaurant

under the sparkly stars




...
one day he changed his name to Greg

she jumped

he was frightened

the shock
could not
be heightened

and that led to
a
gasp

a person
nearby

heard the gasp
(he thought 'twas a cry)

and he ran to help
in case it was
a
matter very grim

but in doing so
he twisted his
ankle
which made him swear
and
bellow

which caused another fellow

to be concerned for
the ears
of certain
children

who liked the sounds
of the exclamations
and repeated them
often to
their
horrified parent's
ears

and those
parents
were
worried

and new actions
they prepared

to help poor children never learn filth
but the
people all in favor

unfortunately
shared the room
where
a naughty little bug who liked to call
himself
doom

gave them all the flu

and smirked
and laughed which caused his sister to be alarmed

and that wasn't good for her health

and even with all their wealth

   the bugs could not save her from
certain
decease

so they wept
and wet the ground

which was full of little seedlings

and needed just a little bit of
water to
spring up

and so many little shoots
came through
and made the ground

a pretty sight with flowers
all around

...and all
of this
glorious-ness
happened
because
someone

*jumped

beaten
  bruised
    and burning

ffffudge brownies
only made
a
tiny
difference.......

peut-être peut-être peut-être bueno bonté belle chocolaté???

again and again


THE MOSQUITO ANNOYS

please go pick on
someone else?

zzzzzzzzzzzzz

flight
flowing
elderberries
and the
syrup of rebellion

see
sails
snail-pace
along the highway
man's
view
finder

and pointing

shouting

the breath of the ever present
nature
fumed
scent

age appropriate
apocalypses
redemptions
conclusions

painted vividly stroked

it's late!

too late!

foe fry
fun


and i sailed

in the view finder
in the fumed
scent
in the anxious awaiting
calls
not sure whether to find you

hello.
i wish.
i wonder.

are you really that surprised?

maintenant

je me sens

mauvais
sur
nourriture

votre

chocolat ...
bar ...

And in a sense
A kind of visual art
addiction
In still life
The arrangement of flowers -
It is as though I am already mourning
Those who I grieve for
As they continue to use.
It’s like a funeral bouquet
Mourning the dead.
Not already dead,
But on the verge with each
Staggered
Breath.
Each breath impeded
By
Heavy blood
Thick veins
Thick with the stuff
And I am powerless
But to sit and observe.  
Someone once told me:
“The average life-span of a ****** is five years”.
As I walk through Kings Cross
see them nodding off
I wonder -
Are they an anomaly of survival?
And when I see those close to me
They’ll lie just a little
Eyes wide shut
I turn to the paint
The ugly art I make
Try to make some peace within it.

tick tock*

(tick tock)*


at theirs
today

won't go
away

must stay and
play

but clock is
ticking

my thoughts
are
kicking

oh god
they're late

but still i must
wait




butiwassupposedtopracticeat9:30andwhatisitnow?1:20.­howmuchisthiswholethingreallyworth??

the Hot Chocolate's  steaming on the window

   it's a misty moody day

flying birds feathered frenzy flapping fever rain drop fly
   ...forward


...

reflection
on the steamed glass

reflecting

remembering the conversations by the random visitors to the cafe

in their coats and scarves and goosebumps



green eyes
coats

and Sherlock's





and then draw a face in the steam on the window in the cafe in the town
under the sparkly hidden stars

...

have
to write
a story

pourquoi est-ce que quand on me dit d'écrire une histoire, je ne peux pas le faire?

twisting twisty-like twisters is all
I can
come up
   with


....Maybe the Triangular Prison, Bermuda Triangle?

Anyway...

sky
deep
  blue

dove
...framed
     above

and then



...the sky falls



......again

bee
of
the
bee
hive

queen
of
the
castle

pretty
perfect
prissy
p­rincess

me
rebel?
outcastle?
outlaw?



well at least

I'm


    interesting

Oh.........
От мен се очаква
te doen
βιολί μου
Praxis aber
أنا فقط
懶得
but I need to but I


(I lost my line)

tired
   eyes

bright
    screens

water-wanting
   lips


fingers clicking carelessly


hopes
and wishes

of a small gold
coin

to buy

a stack
of
many
many
   lollies


...naughties

   chocolates

and invisibility
  cloaks




  
the dread

  of the coming
dreads

the hopes

of the
future


   the grumbling
stomachs

  and whispered

hellos

you you you
invading my dreams

in dreams of rows of
four four four or more

    your presence is
un and welcomed
  

    and i wonder how it is
with you



i only ever see you in my dreams anymore

the colour blue
is really hungry at the moment

"watch as the colours weave and grow...reds as a background, greens as the shadows."


**I'd like to wake up now

Oh yeah
it's the blessed day again
the sky has burnt and yellowed and blued
and it is a beautiful sight

   my only hope

is that i don't
anger-up again


again

   **again

ce poème

est principalement
pour avoir dit à

merci forts
à
la belle
français

langue

alors peut-être tout simplement

ignorer ce


traduction ...

oh dear
   what a wonderful
writing
you just wrote

haven't written
for
a while

tonsils
kickin'
up
my style

anger-grump-red-eyesies-ness

la la la la
stress


heads










watchin' watchin' watchin
moi




(are you?)



(tryin'tryin'tryin')

to  find you


two




i  

am

often always
I am the
lone
Cameraman

New Year,
I only see the fireworks
through
a screen



in the misty weather

I remember

catching shots
through the window
of the car


... and waiting


and often Dan and I
share shots
and cameras
and Lightroom programmes

...and Bueno Bars

bleary eyed
and bruised up
too early

too soon!

Can't
Think
Properly
Prop
Pro

Poor
poor
tired

old me

i would be lying
if i kept my mouth shut

      but how could i ever ever ever?

island storms

bitter hard sun
sand dust
and
deserted deserts...

...cracked lips
dry mouth

hoping home hopeful


and suddenly

the crow stops
the ground shocks

and the earth is split in two

all hoping hopeful home
is gone


....flutter

...stutter

..doom

woke
water
went
computer
tv
all
day
sun is setting
I'm waking up
grumpy grumpy

ogre

imaginer
un
vie normale

scandaleux!

Je sais!

O mon dieu!

picky
teaser
lota
pizza
flamingo
burnin'
gerhkin
wordin'
processi­ng
pro
gramme
lots
a
purple
tan
tanging
tongue
tear
stupid
deer
c­roissant
croissant
croissant


(are you here?)

rich
and
faming
silly
daydream
little
cupid
castle
cooped­
chicken
kickin'
malicious
software

(are we there?)

yet
cooky
suki
mikky
mopy
skiing
slopy
tear
out
control
­shout
doubt
pout
trouble
double
choc
tim
tam
ginge
sortafairy
tai­l
of
a
bat
rat
smack


(should we pack?)

and
CRACK
goes
ankle
blowing
soccer
flowin'
talk
tak
no
s­illy
silly
silly

all these
years

(should I be crying these tears?)


hello
again
a
pen?
why
thanks
some
lunch
punch
crunch
an
ankle
swollen­
ready
all

flail
fall


(?)

the soft light
made
by the jingle jangle of chandeliers
is hiding the fact
that the crystals are plastic
not glass

the red carpeted halls in rich silver
are synthetic
and painted


the people who sing
are so obviously
pre-recorded
lip-singers

..that the sound is ugly



the majestic
queen
wears a great crown

made of tin and rocky road



and as the jester steps down
with his grin made of real malice

the beauty you cast
is the reason
why everything

else

looks


...fake

snooty
   blue tinge
agony

  burning
of  
the brain
thoughts-mouth

   this is the
doom of
the Perri Perri
almonds and

    cashews

the button clicks
...
10

dashing
...
9

leaping
...
8

running
...

7

positioning
...

6

smilin­g

...
5
4
3
2
...
jump and
1!

click click click
...

clashing
silver

cacophony
of catastrophic
crashes

the
drunken
black
hole

"I like the word, toggle, actually."

god god god i
really
no really
i DON'T care

what you have to say with that
stupid mouth of yours
just stop
stop
STOP
being a five year old
and learn some tact
  and humanity for
christ's sake

i'm sick to death of you and your mind and EVERYTHING
about you

just please please

SHUT UP

we're all
in this
silly
adequette
mess
together...

....so why not
give it your best

arrowhead
embedded

in a

silly
silly
so
very
silly

ocean
blue box bueno

sing
for me

when the
earth
ends

and the
sky
falls

...
sing for me

when it rains
fish

and when
chocolate
ceases
to
exist

...
and sing
for them

as they tumble

and
flail


and leap about


and



create creative explosive explosions

I lost my line
(I lost my line)

____

I said too much! I said it wrong! Arrrrrrrrr I said it right wrong no sort of yes no! I'm sorry
sorry

I'm sorry

beep bop beep



...

beep bop beep

...



BEEP BEEP BEEP
squiggle




died!

squidgy swish squish pish posh peeled pretend I don't dingo ding **** diddled dod  dead dig stick still silent silence screaming softly silly

.....SOUP


pretend I don't
pretend to fly

dreaming and flying
dreaming
rêver de vous

diving in the deep end
rêver de vous

walking under an
             umbrella patterned umbrella
rêver de vous


fly
fly
fall
sky
rêver de vous
rêver de vous


and always eating chocolate

      rêver de vous

is what inspired this poem
      ...



wind

outer space

forward

backwards

strings

haunting sounds

expectance

waiting

...
and growing
and lifting
and SINGING
AND LIFTING
AND BREAKING

FALLING

DRIFTING









AND SWELLS

...
AND SWELLS




SWELLS



GROWING



BIGGER BRIGHTER LIGHTER


doesn't stop
swells
breaks
grows
stops
starts
turns



then
her voice



SWELLS



and

          ...inspires

/sword

in the way
by the well

it is said
she will rise from the blue
and it is true

...chilly mossy air
petticoats and nighties

little torch
and walloping gumboots

pig tails and
bandaids


the little girl went running

the rust of the bucket
  the shadows cast by the hidden moon
a bolt of lightning in a far away tree

       scare her a little


but she goes on


..at the well
she points and whispers
and there is the ghost-ish-thing
with its sad sad eyes

it tells the girl of the slashes
and deaths the swords
  and the wars
have caused in its time and
it tells the girl

to stop the wars from happening again and again

...the little girl often visits the ghost

   she is not frightened as the ghost has never sought to harm her

instead she listens, and learns



    **the ghost is her teacher

Across
the hills

and mountains
and valleys

the goatherd watched

gathering storms and  
weird wins
did not
stir
him
from his
post...


there he has sat for years
...watching his sheep


now
it is
time for him

...to say goodbye

sorrow
at the depths of the ocean

locked away

in a little blue box
aged over time
and water
water

many water drops away

   from any living soul

still there...

...and the key?



that is what the seal holds

  he shan't give it away

till the day runs dry

and the forest
...cries

the bright-eyed people
excited and tired

the mums and the dads and the grans and pas and and and

  spending all their money on chocolate and hats
     and rock n roll
                                           and icky little dolls


ahhhhh but I guess it's all worth it
  but not really
     but still


why is it that I don't actually really super super enjoy that kind of day

    ?

It's just animals
    lovely

but still just
           animals




and

through the blizzard
  powerful eyes meet mine
a fur coat of stripes, fit for winter
  and her majesty of brilliant summers
long gone

I take a cautious breath
and soon enough
  she has turned
to her ice queen palace
on the hill
where the dove is white
and red
and the image
that
stays

with me

are her eyes
  cold, hard, curious, cautious, and, a little humorous

moon face

half covered

orb
or
sphere
or
"bit-of-rock-swaying"


light beam through

   through





thorough



thought


apocalypse of all things


earthly and not so


     so




billowing
clouds

and
night-creatures
are
coming

so run or stay to fight


misted eyes
can't see
so run
run...




run free

a
super
nova
explosion...
extra
terrestrial
caused it..
THEY CLAIM
e
t
is evil...
THEY CLAIM


why don't they claim

they
are
e
t?

fall
down

down



down

and
fly...


"sea-fish and
            twisters"

                                                 ­    and up
and ever up, up, up,

tired
awake
alive...
splutter, whimper, mutter

oceans...
edge...

drifting
jelly-****
see
shell
ships
wa­terspouts
light...
horizon



...and home

for some
deadly
awful
bleak
reason
(today)  
I am an ogre.



Squinting
through
splintery eyes

frowning
the
humans away

letting my
teeth
YELLOW

'n' decay


Ah I know
I'm an Ogre

I can't
speak properly
without
sounding
rude

I can't help but feel brutally angry and distracted and blurred by the people trying to speak to me through my hard shell of bitter lemon juice

Ah,
but I know
...my dear
I'M AN OGRE


Don't you DARE talk to me
if you're a happy perfect person
today


    'cos Ah,
but yes,
   today, an Ogre

and always a
   ******