Close your eyes
go back to sleep
Tuesday can wait
until next week.

I wouldn't know Billie Piper
from the Pied Piper
so
what the ****'s connected?

not me
obviously
I must be on the drift
or beyond the pale,
still
what's another fail
between friends?

you didn't win
you'll never win
the roulette wheel's rigged.

Monday
to rip out your guts
and to
kick you in your nuts,
what else could it be for?

oh,
the runway for the rest of the week?

It's time
I said to myself
for what?
I also said.

Monday
and I talk to the wall
the fall is here
that much is clear.

I don't and never did
or if I did I hid the evidence
but
that being said,
it's still time to get up from the bed
even though
I know I don't want to I will do

neither April nor cruel
October's no fool
it knows where we're going
and that's to the dogs.

Through a hallway where all doors are open
out into the garden of sighs
where a mother gives birth to her daydreams
and the night sky is filled with her cries

to the lake where a cross was once carried
on a boat to the island of woe
where the mother who gave birth to daydreams
absolutely refuses to go

and in the hallway that stands all but empty
is the captain who walks to and fro
searching through his hatbox of memories
looking for somewhere to go

There are flags at half-mast on the towers
there are souls who are lost to the sea
down the hall where the doorways are open
there's a mother who is calling for me.

the dawn breaks the bravest of spirits
( this line wasn't part of the piece but it is now )

The rich and greedy steal from the poor and the needy,
but I heard a story that went,
'some are rich and pleasant and share with the peasant'

I haven't met many of them.

Sunday and the churches are full
jesus is raking it in
and here was I only just thinking
that having too much money
was a sin.

No good will come
if you're on the run
and
the dogs are hot on your heels.

It feels so familiar
and yet
you never get used to it
because
and
there's always a because
because you keep on making
excuses for the choices you make.

I asked Vermeer
to draw me a pitcher of beer
he painted  for me
a girl with a pearl
earring.

never trust an artist when
his mind is elsewhere.

So many rushing into the next overload
someone call a code-blue
and
that's what I'd do,

I never rush anymore
if it's a walk I want then
it's a leisurely stroll down
by the shore

imagine that attack when your heart wants to take a nap and your body is caught out of sync
I don't think I will
don't think I'll rush.
won't think at all
but
then what would I do?

I'd
forget everything and rush about like a blue-arsed fly
hitting the ground and wondering why
someone is calling code-blue.

Bison grass
can kiss my
pass go
and collect
because you'll
never connect
when you're on
the juice
so what's the use
in trying?

I was told that I liked the sound of my voice, so talking to myself as I do is not an age thing; by age thing, I mean that I'm not going senile or not to my knowledge
however
you may think that I'm going doolally and that's fine by me
but I find my voice soothing and comforting and sometimes even entertaining,

but the age thing is tiring
I don't talk to the tomato plants anymore
they don't grow without, well, you know
a word or two and now you may think
that's selfish

I'm not too fond of shellfish
did I say that I'm hard of hearing?

that age thing is wearing me away
it's a good job that I have so much to say
even if it is to myself.

Definitely a chill in the air
time to dig out my thermal
underwear,

We're not in Summer anymore
I think it looks a bit Autumn
which is still a pretty nice season
apart from the chill in the air.

Friday they say is for lovers
for movers and those who would shake
I'm getting back under the covers
and work
can flaming well wait.

Expecting it as and when
because closing my eyes
and counting up to ten
has no effect.

the lay of the land
or is it the lie of the land?

I expect it's one or the other
and actually it doesn't matter
if it's the lay or the lie
we're all goung to die
and
I'm expecting it as and when.

Friday is nearly upon me
which almost surprises me
and always hypnotises me
into surrendering to the
weekend.

They don't say
'can you put it on the slate'
anymore
because that form of trust
has gone bust,

if today you can't pay
you don't get.

Renee ran the chip shop
and I dated her daughter
but then they went to
Australia
and because I was eight
I cried,

Thursday
tastes like salt and vinegar
and now I can't remember her name
so
did I truly miss her?

We're still trying to figure out what this is all about or even if it's about anything at all but it all takes time even if time is in short supply.

Have you ever wondered why time is in short supply?

It would appear that we're blocked from knowing the answer
so
as time is limited and we are limited by time figuring things out is a waste of the time we are alloted.

Time i went for a coffee which happily is not in short supply
it's in a jar in the kitchen cupboard.

Well
and I hope it's a deep one
drop Wednesday in it
and
Wednesday will be gone,
but that won't work
which is like some people I know
that won't work.

Getting ready for anything
which is nothing unusual
so I act casual
but it's all going on
well
until Wednesday's gone.

According to the old song
it must have been very easy
for ****** to spot the ball

but he never won
did he?

Heading back to where it's at
but I know that,
back to zero
where we'll all go
eventually,

they'll talk about me on the radio
wondering how did he know
that zero was the end and the beginning.

So
if I get one of those free wills
will it allow me free will
or is it another scam?

Woman in Sari,
stares at me
it makes me aware
of how that feels.

Monday work done
and I am done
it wasn't fun
Tuesday to come
don't suppose that'll
be fun
but I'm certain that
I'll be done,

Wednesday and Thursday
I'll be comatose
rigor mortis setting in
until Friday enters the ring,
and knocks me into the
weekend.

jeez
it's already Monday before I've had a chance to make the most of the weekend,

Tarot shows me the hanged man
****
and if I am to be
swing by me
we'll have a chat

that
doesn't change anything
still glumday
hours in which
to work away
when all I want
is a quick getaway

it'll soon be Friday.

Their narrative will tell you
what you should log in to
don't you ******' dare believe them

make up your own mind
find your own truth.

I won't apologise
for the lies
that are told against me,
*** me
if i did
I'd be here forever.

Me time
my time
and about time
but more of that later.

The calendar tells me its Sunday
my mind tells me it's Friday
my body tells me it's creaking
just another week in my life.

Now it's time
or it was
thus
later becomes redundant
until later,


when later comes
when the sun's creeping off
I'll be off too
but not off the radar
only off to sleep.

Who said time is linear?
get the fuckoutofhere
time's just the noose
we hang ourselves with
time is the circus in which
we all live,

The shadow on the ceiling trickles slowly down the wall then moves across the carpet on the floor and out into the hall, to the door already open and disappears into the night and you wonder if it's really there or is it something that just might, but you fall into the crack that reappears into the dawn and just before you wake into the day that shadow is reborn and the circle that you thought was gone is suddenly redrawn,

if in the dreaming do we come alive or is it that we die
do we think of yesterday, do we think of apple pie
do our friends come out to see us
or do they come to see us off
and if it's off we go, to where?
because I'd really like to know
the Autumn snuggles
up to us and
snow is on the way
and again you find
you're waking up
into another
day.

There is a bullet and a promise
and one has your name
written on it.

Sod's law seems to be an odd law when your in-laws are outlaws and the day goes on, but
pirates are so passe today and buccaneers are years out of date.
( I went on a blind date once and couldn't see a thing )

if there's a song to be sung before we're all hung at the Tate, give me the tune and some words, I can wait.

The weekend waits for the first bite to be taken
I wait for the kettle to whistle
She waits for me to grow up and behave.

Those scars that run deep are the scars that we keep,
are you happy now?

no one tells the full story.

Gabe plays the harp on the sharp end of the street
hoping to meet with his maker,
I play the fool playing it cool making a drink in the old cocktail shaker,

but a barman? too far man, I'm the chancer who got lucky in the romance of her.

it's now or forever but never not no how
and who of you
can argue with that?

Good
and that's good enough for a Friday fright,
oops
night,

it's me that looks a fright
with my eyes bloodshot
you say
too much gut-rot
I say
I don't drink a lot
but
I work and it's work that does it.

relax, breathe in and pour myself a coffee
and make believe it's gin,
let the weekend begin.

'Oh come all ye faithful'
the turnout was dreadful
the church only half full
and they got an earful
off the vicar who was fearful
that the Bishop would sack him
unless he went forth and brought in
more lambs to the slaughter.

Friday
going my way
on the highway to the weekend.

it's good when it's good and great when it's better
I think I'm getting better but I wouldn't bet on it.

Just in time this time
but next time
who knows?

there's a fiddler
not on the roof
but still aloof
or should that be aloft?

ah
the witching hour approaches
midnight mixed with hindsight
makes for devilish dreams.

so
bed then?
counting sheep
but pen in hand
just in case.

I really wouldn't mind if it was Friday
I could easily give Thursday a miss.

I awoke with a jolt
two-forty volt
and
now I'm charged up
for today, but
because there has to be
I'd like a
a get-out clause,
a pass go and run free.

not flamin' likely
with that motley crew
it's always do as I say
not
do as I do
and you knew that,
you too
have run on flat
****** on the fumes
cried out your tears
in the echo of rooms.

it does get better
but it all takes time
and
there's never enough to
keep up the shine in your eyes
and the dullness creeps in
as you listen to the lies
but
it does get better

I keep telling myself that
I keep running on flat,
some people never learn

leaves that sail off down the road
washing that blows on the line,
this is the time for
Autumn to rhyme with
something or other
but why should I bother
to bother rhyming at all?

This must be the storm
the one
that's not in a teacup,

I didn't have to get up
I could have stayed tucked up
in bed, but
I didn't so I did
( get up, in case you're confused }

Sometimes
I mix a soft drink
with a hard liquor
to try and toughen
that softie up.

little things amuse me
and the bigger things
go over my head.

him on the back seats
with the deadbeats
shouts,
you can't say softie anymore
I shine a light to show him
the door
and tell him to take a hike.

Tuesday night feels like Friday night
said no one ever unless they were as
thick as two short planks,
yeah, thanks and now
I can't say that anymore.

It's time
but I don't know what for
so
I'll make a coffee and try
to remember.

jeezus it's not even Christmas,
but he already knew that.

The hands of the clock turn
( and I'm sure about this )
quicker than the candle burns,

moral:
you can't tell the time using candles.

sundials are a waste
you can't carry them on your wrist

so it's atomic,
accurate to within and
I'm not sure within what
but could be
within
a fleas jockstrap.

Happy Hour,
without alcohol?
my face drops as
the clock stops
and
all bets are off.

It was the best..oh
has that already been done?
okay
take a look
it's not a book,
just a scribble on a page
not even a page
more a screen
nothing's real
it's all a dream

i need coffee
or
I want coffee?

I'm having coffee
which doesn't answer the question
and my back is aching

it all crowds in
the ****** of crows is upon me
back to
I need or want
coffee,

this day and the start of it
only makes me ache a bit more
however
putting all that aside
I'll go along for the ride

optimism is the best option.

Show me how to let go
how to freeflow
to bend in as the winds
blow
and in the letting go
the letting go will let me know
how far I've got to go
until I get there.

everything's phenomenal
when you're on the approach
to terminal
but
I'm thinking of taking a sabbatical
show me how to let go.

I must have arrived in
if
the destination is to
survive in
modern society.

walk don't walk
woke don't woke
or should that be
don't wake?

it's all going a hundred
the noise
constant thunder
most will go under

I laughed
safe on my raft
little knowing that
Niagara was ahead.

They were down by the tracks
breckin' their backs
laying some line.
just so some lazy swine
could come swanning up North,
and see how the other arf lived.

me dad said it'll rust and
they'll be at it again
laying more line from
six until ten

their ghosts are still there
turning the air blue
with them old ****** jokes
told the way
the old used to do

and I can see them
the working men
that got this country
mobile.

When memories are not as you remember them and it's September again,
when you're wondering where it all went when you're remembering the times as you remember them
and it's September again, the wheel goes around and the hampster stands still
memories that fall from the memory mill until one day and one day when you fade away and the picture looks bare as if you're no longer there but you know that you're only a slide to the right side, a window that opens in the corner of your eye or a catch in your breath, unlocked.

Autumn on tiptoes
cold hands
runny nose

I've been here before.

My wits are being sharpened by the knives in my back
everything I see is in black and white

there is room to manoeuvre
but the groom's getting nervous
I hand him two ******
he thanked me for my service

Look at the time
but by the time I had looked
it had changed

it's no different
it's just the way it appears.

15 September 2012 at 11:48 · Stratford, London ·

As I was saying to @jsirony on Twitter.

if you want a pat on the back
lay down in a field full of cows.

In any case,
life really is a steeplechase and if you fall at any of the hurdles that you face don't worry we're not horses they won't shoot you,
they might boot you from pillar to post
they might even ghost you
but they definitely will not shoot you.

Spinal.
They break it so many times
and finally it goes,

everyone knows to watch their backs
but you never expect those full on
attacks when the pain rains in

it is
after all
of little consequence
you've been used to their nonsense
and shenanigans
so when it goes once again
you're almost ready for it,

I should have taken the medications
however, sedation is not for me
I'll suffer
not gladly though and I'll get over it
or go under with it and it's okay
either way
I can sink and swim.

Perhaps we should all work from our homes
like all the rest of those lazy-bones and you know who I mean,

In bed until ten
teach the cat to press send again
computer on standby
and then
a light repast

it's a wonder to me
how they've made this scam
last
for so long.

and we'll end up as pinpricks of violet light
in a galaxy not too far away,
but I want a job with the universal council
hoovering up dust belched from exploding stars.

I applied for the job
and got nowhere,
no room at the inn
anyone got a pin?

Tuesday took forever
and I was
working like a ******,

Wednesday looks much better
when you're seeing it from Thursday
but everything looks much better when
your head's stuck in the sand,

a shower?
yes
I would advocate it
when you're fed up with the
*******
and you want it to be Friday
but it's only flippin' Wednesday.

coffee on a drip
before I
slip away.

Who doesn't mind a spot of rain
even if
it seems to have come by train
and arrived hours late

I'll wait for the answer.

I can never be sure that Tuesday has my best interests at heart
for instance:
it wakes me when it's still dark and
what good is that to me who's as blind as a bat?

it doesn't seem to care if I wear red socks with a green checked shirt and that's going to hurt if you're someone who thinks that combination would be a good match,

I digress
but Tuesday impresses upon me the need for anti-depressants inside me, have you even noticed that it's already not Friday when it's not Friday?

We can refuse to be used by 'big pharma'
we can go to the Shaman instead.

mine's a walkabout a mile
yours may be nearer.

I'm sick of taking two Paracetamol
and Aspirin's a pain in the gut
but there's something about
the Shaman
who lives in an old wooden hut
and I'll go down to see him tomorrow
not least because the Chemists are shut.