It is about this
the equations
the logic of
the illogical
the surrender
the kiss,

it's always been
about this.

Now that it's the holiday,
I can bet you a witch to a warlock
that the clock will speed up.

it's always the way.

Have you lost,
'the will'?

join the queue.

Thankfully
mine is chained up.

One day I'll say
something of importance
but not today,
because it's Friday
and Mary's having a baby.

What do you fear,
the new year
or is it that you fear
the new year could be just an old year
dressed up in modern gear?

recycle everything,
and that's a good thing.

2024
and that's more than I could
have hoped for.

They would have you believe
that it was sparkling cyanide
that done her in,
but they lied
it was cheap bathtub gin.

It's Thursday
and I'm thinking,
thank God it's
Friday tomorrow
which is about as much thinking as I can handle
at three thirty in the morning
on a ***** grey day.

You knelt
because you wanted to know
she towered over you and
delivered the death blow,

ah
bit of this and that was that
you ended up living
in a council flat
getting old
getting fat
because
you knelt before her
and why was that?

Lucky is not winning the lottery
lucky is finding the one that makes
you realise there is only the one and
no other.

Philosophy is not me,
She,
tells me to read
Dostoevsky,
I prefer
Enid Blyton
with the light on
in the library.

so sue me,
but telling you now
I'm origami
and dangerous
or ridiculous
and harmless.

There has to be that immaculate flash of understanding and if it's when we're dying, perhaps that's how it has to be, I have an idea that it'll be interesting, but that's only an idea and I have no desire to find out yet.

On my second cup of 'joe' and I'll soon be good to go.

However
going and getting nowhere is no good to anyone,
a little voice in my head says,
stay in bed, John,
and I am tempted
although I think Eve did a better job with Adam.

The nativity is all set to be played out
and yet
most people I know are prayed out,

so many things to pray about
and the clock is ticking.

It's no good asking me
I knew nothing
except for the stars
and the relentless sea,

and when I docked
I was
******,

didn't understand dry land
couldn't comprehend
and so
I set sail again.

This, yes this,
is what grandchild number two
aged nearly fifteen
wants for Christmas,
oh!
you guessed, yes,
a praying mantis,

I told said grandchild
that praying mantises
stopped believing in God
and
no longer pray,
but then
what would I feed them on?

I said,
feed them on bible verses
plenty of those,
and who knows
they may rediscover their faith.

The wind is howling,
that's not surprising
If I'd been outside all
night,
I'd be howling too.

What's the straw for?
to make a bed Mary,
and a manger,

now
Joseph knew that he was
treading on dangerous ground
but
with the wise men and
prezzies all around,
he felt
as sound as a pound
until
his name as the father
went on the
birth certificate.

What fell off the back of a lorry?
enquired Dixon of 'knock off green'

ooh,
I seen him on the telly
he was the rather jolly one
and not the laughing one
sadly
they're both gone now
and people mix them up,

that blue lamp I saw
matched the colour of my mood,
I swore
there and then to go on the
straight and narrow
and never again fall foul
of the law
or off the back of a lorry.

no!
this can't be right
I've looked and
it says Sunday night,

I'd want to go home
but I am at home
and Sunday nights have
been shown
as many have before
to be the door that leads into
that job where they always want
more.

So
it cannot be right
it must be wrong
it can't be Sunday night
but I'll go along with it
for now

The clouds look like they're settling in for the night,
I might as well settle in too,
watch a film which is better than watching the rain
although it's not raining yet
so
I'll get myself comfy and
put on the onesie as
there's no one here to watch me,
( the smart TV is smart enough not to look )

I
could have a beer,
there's one left from last year
or
I might risk a whiskey
but
maybe not

whatever I do
it won't be a lot.

there are lots who are willing
to brave the elements
and go out to buy
essentials
but
a shilling to a dollar
does it not follow
that if they'd bought them
on Saturday,
Sunday
would be a day
for chillin'

Them horses was sat in the stable
and Joseph was stood at the door,
Mary was having a blue rinse
because thats what the blues are for,

the wise men
were looking at road maps
no GPS was available to them,
Joseph said,
aw jeezzus, **** it
but
peace and goodwill to all men.

It's possible
that we're on the way to
Judgement day,
it's also possible
that we're
not.

'I have a dream'

Everyone's going non-binary
it's no wonder that they'll not talk to me,

I'm still hexadecimal.

The clouds are
lined up like tombstones
in a dull grey sky,
in some other time
I think they'd be soldiers
on the front line.

spots of rain
sounds like rife shots
on the corrugated tin roof.

The proof lies and sometimes
the truth hurts.
and now
pan bottom black,
the storm has arrived and
there's no going back
not even to the dull grey,

another day
dissolves.

We're not getting any younger
said,
Methuselah to Jeroboam,
don't listen,
said,
Mother Shipton who was as
old as the hills,

keep taking the pills
said,
the Doctor.

Spin the wheel,
or
find the balloon,
scroll past linger and
all too soon you'll find,
yourself
like the elf on a shelf,
dusty and crusty
and all alone.

Facebook's just a bone
that dogs growl over.

All the money spent up on things you're going to put up
on a Christmas tree you set up in the lounge,
but we know it's for a good cause as Santa Claus is coming
and it won't look like he's slumming
in a room so bright and gay.

It was years ago or
maybe it was yesterday
which in some ways it was,

all those yesterdays
become as one as the
memory train trundles along,

but where did those yesterdays go
and the years ago, where did they go?

and the people we knew
and those who knew us too
did they get off the train?

nothing's the same
but
it's all the same
that's
the beauty of
the memory train.

This week was a month long
or seemed to be so,
I
worked like a horse pulling the plough
and wouldn't you flippin' know it
it's Friday that takes the bow.

Come three and I'll be free for
the weekend
but I can bet my last dime
that the weekend will be over
in next to no time.

But remaining positive
is easy,
when you're plugged into
the mains.

In the olden days
which weren't known
as the olden days
in the olden days,
they were known as
the modern day and age
in what we call the olden days
and that's confusing,

You probably guessed
that I'm drinking coca-cola
from those olden days
which was all the rage
back then.

Plans that are not
thought through
have a tendency
to fall through.

People eat so much
they
get rat arsed and say
let's keep in touch
and losing touch
with
where they are
thinking that they're in
Supercar, they
wait forSupermarionation.

Let them fukin wait
Christmas is hard work.,

waking up
dressing up
breaking and
making up,
taking up
where
we left off,

they're
just habits
and
where would we be
without them?

Remember the kitchen chemist in South Hackney?
well
the little gobshite is trying to track me because I told others that
the crack that he cooks is quite flaky,
does that make me a
snitch?

yeah
that little ***** doesn't know his **** from his elbow
I could've shown him how to cook it
but **** it
why would I?

ha
these days I make do with Anadin,
but I used to turn lead into
jewelled nights.

It could have been me who was up at a quarter past three and when I checked in the mirror it was,
what a time to be alive or thirty-two or over sixty-five.

I picked myself up from the floor because the medications kicked in like never before,
moving on.

There's a siren, no sea, it's a cop car but not for me,
one more victory and it's only ten past four.

Christmas is coming
the noose is being tied
thank the lord that I am
safe and warm inside,

but you can't hide from the substance
of unintended consequence.

things we wanted
things we wished for
things we don't want
anymore,

I did enough of wishing
fishing for the angles
now I'm waiting for my angel,
to bring me back to home.

But she's out on the peninsula
I wish I had been there with her
******* in the ozone layer
looking at the stars.

You would think that in the order of appearance,
thoughts would be in a straight line,
think again Sherlock
elementary is passe
and on the road to armageddon who's to say otherwise?

If I had the time I'd map out a timeline and put it next to the train line, I'd be the wheel tapper or a fur trapper depending on what century I'm in.

I looked and it's still Monday
which is a shame
but the pain eases about this time
or that time,
I'd have to check the track
or the timeline
to be sure.

Though there are plenty of colours to choose from,
night time decided to lose some
and picked only one,
that one is dark.

and if night time is tuned in with nature
it follows that nature is sometimes quite dark.

so
now I'm looking out on nature
can't see a sodding thing
but
dark.

wonderful init.

She said,
'okay, give me a bell'
so
I gave her one

hey!
wind your necks in,
I gave her a bell,

one from Notre Dame
ha
she wasn't expecting that.

Her features change
but not as quickly
as the weather.

She still looks though
like she looked years ago,
like you'd like to get to
know her.

'Goodwill to all men'
but that was back then
when most men were..
( and now I'm trying to think what most men were but I swear that I can't think )

...malcontents with armaments
refugees in canvas tents
we should sue for recompense..

..there'll be another truce
time for croissants and
orange juice

it's a ***** war
so what's the use
in trying to stay clean.

It's either the violin or the mandolin
screeching out its melody
reaching into me
the antithesis of what man could be,

i ain't fussed
I cussed it in my grandma's breath,
she watches over me
and sees what I see
and
that is death.

Man or machine
I mean
machine or man
what am i?

Apparently I'm offline
******* internet
I get it
it's ****
and always will be.

Going rogue is in vogue
or so I read.

***** helps to dim the lights
helps me to forget the nights

I'm on my second now.

It looks like it'll be midnight forever
and Summer will never come,
clouds have taken up residence and
pocketed the Sun.

Friday brings me cheer
it should be a barrel of beer.
but cheer will have to do.

Funny how I can catch my breath when I can't catch a bus,

I caught a cold and that wasn't funny,
a *** of
tea with ginger and honey fixed it
it nearly fixed me too.

if there's a next time
there'll be no tea for me
it'll be fortified wine,

and if there's a time after that
there'll be time for that after.

For now
a bottle
of port,
caught my eye and
I'm still catching my breath.

I'm watching the clock
it does nothing but tick,
still watching it though,
in case it's a trick.

Time wearing Oxford Bags
drags me along,
next stop Tin Pan Alley
going for a song.

I'm watching the clock
the big hand waves me goodbye
the little hand's scratching its backside
it must be time for work.

I'm waiting
for what comes after Facebook,

to say it's 'old hat'
is a bit hit and that
is an understatement.

If the feed is all you need
try the grain store.

She applied makeup to her face on the tube
i was astounded
because at every station she applied more foundation,
her face became the base of a mountain,

oh and the hues she used fused with her complexion
creating a connection with something far greater.

I've always found it funny
when those who insist
on telling you
what to do
get the needle
when you say
'*******'

but
what is the sauce for the goose
is the noose around your neck.

it can only scar me
and that doesn't scare me.

Wednesday and the clock ticks on
midnight and the day will be gone
I'll still be here
rattling the chains,
and moaning
like the wind.

Everything's made of paper mache
except for sushi.

jesus and some say hey zeus,
man and god indeed.

There is no trap
we are the trap
in a cell with a bell for the butler
who dresses as a warder.

We hang on to that hanging on and it'll hang us in the end but we're too scared of the letting go and that too will **** us in the end,

there's probably a solution
Scotch and soda comes to mind.

Well we'll all get drunk on dismal
and discuss these midnight blues
hanging on to distant memories
some things you never lose.

son of a gun
up before the sun
again.

Tuesday has a way of ******* the juice out of a lemon and I'm still deciding if I want lime.

When you know it's going to be midnight all day long which is not as long as a piece of string in case you were wondering, take a flashlight.

All those prayers I said and I still have to get out of bed
something went wrong somewhere.