In the shadow of the shadow where another shadow's waiting
and the sun sits on an easy chair as if
it's hesitating
to come out and play the childish game of
hide and seek,
who's looking?
in the emptiness of market square where spiders,fat and lazy,spin no webs or gory stories, to frighten little children and the cafe,brown and tear stained by the failures of the patrons to understand that change was coming and a brick wall couldn't stop it,
there's a blind man seen it all before with eyes that couldn't fathom,in
the depths of human misery he swam only to exercise his mind
and the sun sat in the easy chair,
to the blind man neither here nor there
which at the the end is all we're
really looking for.

The clock on the wall
says it all
time's moving on

The shallows of shadows
deepen
and the older I get
the more I forget
how wonderful time
used to be.

The assassin.

time
has a hand in
the death of
every minute.

There has to be disharmony said the
man with the harpsichord and the barrel
***** played as the pet monkey swayed and the handle turned back to the start.
In the rush to begin the mad grin of the old man stood out by a mile and the smile on the face of the other in the race was wiped clean by the starter who fired the gun, tunes ran through the long queue of men who smoked pipes like they still were in style and the thrill of the chase was not lost in the pace as the tunes ran on in the night,
in the morning when flagging the tunes started lagging behind, but the monkey being blind saw nothing at all and heard only the barrel ***** grind.
The harpsichord man drew a sword and he ran just a little bit faster that day,
no monkey
no sway
no *****
no grind
no body to find,
disharmony wins the day.

I just want to lay here, stay here, waste away the day here,
I want to scrounge on my dreams as I lounge on it seems that's not one of the options you give.

In this state,
I wait and
I wait.
I could lay here forever never knowing what living was or could be believing I'm free
streaming through consciousness
a pawn in some game where the options are a stalemate or death.

Still laying here, inert and obeying the law of gravity
waiting for some opposite attraction or a
magnetic impulse to give me traction and
I wait
and
the weight
is
at sea level
quite bearable.

Along with the rest of them,
admittedly
not one of the best of men
I insist that I've done nothing wrong.
Does anyone know how many bars in that song?
as many in the cell when they send me to hell
along with the rest of them.

the bare bones
init?

always seems to me that the same people win it
and the poverty stricken end up lickin' their lips and
begging for more.

But don't let that stop you
enjoy the turkey and trimmin's
and
while you're
swimming in Clicquot
they can go hang.

Today,
we get our wishbones via telephones
and there's no need to keep up with Mr Jones,
he's in jail for tax evasion.

I wear Christmas eve on my sleeve like a
poorly beating heart
can't begin to enjoy it when there are those
that only employ it to abuse others.

'ding **** merrily on high'
but
only after enough 'bingo'
to coat the walls of Jericho
and there you go,

Christmas cheer
not much here
or anywhere
unless you have the wherewithal
to have a ball

which is *****.

There's a new town house on
the old town square
which wasn't there before.

I think Santa's a builder
or
a miracle maker

The canal was frozen over
the river was flowing with snow,
so many opportunities
we didn't know where to go.

The elvers were burrowed in deep
the salmon,
all fast asleep
but we were young and
wanted to watch them run,
until Mum called us in for tea.

It never bothers us in the least
that three wise men
travelled in from the East
to see a homeless one
the one they called
the son of man

It's not new and it's not
'Old hat'
it is what it is
no more than that,

But we never learn
we still turn people out
of their home
to leave them in
some tragedy of
a 'twilight zone'

and I don't think I'm alone
in thinking that's not fair.

Christmas is coming
the sun longer shines
for Tom out in all weathers
who remembers better times.

a gift for him?
slim chance
but
that's better than no chance
which he believes is what
he's got.

There are those and them and in between the shadows that we all have seen there are those who used to be and them who still can dream,

A new year,
2015
Another tier,
one more prayer to layer
the cake.
A bit of give and take and a make
the most of what I've got.

Let me think,

*** belly,no telly, a radio, metal kettle,no electric,
gas heating, washing machine, lean bacon,clean sheets,
eggs and
cheese,
the
kitchen sink.

Let me think,

friends and family all around me
dreams to gather and
surround me.
I got a lot.

Pretty
baubles that dangle,
a Babyliss
that untangles  the
knots in your hair

not a bible anywhere
(unless they're sold under the counter)

and the packaging they wrap things in
if they wrap things up at all
******* in another knot with
string from a giant ball.

I've seen a sight or two or three and
Woolworth's won't be seeing me

sad to say
it had its day
and has gone to that
great mall
in the sky

so I'll head ecumenical
being cynical
but practical
and shop at
the
nearest Temple.

Why wait for the mistletoe?
just kiss her and let her know
you love her.

I had to light another candle
must be getting too old
can't handle the cold,
but the expense,
oh God
it'll ruin me,
put me in the workhouse
I'll be as poor as a church mouse
and all I wanted was a bit of warmth.

It'd be marzipan time and
hot mince pies with brandy sauce,
but of course, now it won't be,

it's not the turkey they're stuffing
it's me

When you can't believe so right, so wrong, say so long to company and on your way, when
the day that carries you can say, it's only while you were away the night flew in and you know the evening closes down the bars in this backwater town and the spin begins,
so you don't believe your eyes, you see, there's nothing but complexity, so wrong, so right, so
say goodnight to Teddy bear he's there at least you have one friend to share your loneliness.

When you dream of your mother
but you're not sure whether
it's Freudian or not.

Is it only me that thinks
yesterday was so far away?

I remain for now
in the public domain for how
else would you know me?

Saturday and
the city rises like smoke from a dying fire
and I can hear my heart beating.

So we are taught that the need for greed is greater than the need for nothing at all
and nothing at all is what kite flyers get when they let go of the string,
it's a hollow thing
when your stomach rings out the hour on the hour
and your power of locomotion was left in the pawn shop
the one stop
to top up your wallet or purse
could be worse
that packet of peas in the kitchen will please as you check book recipes for a pea dinner
on a winner or not
the day's still quite hot
so you save on the heating
you also save on the eating when you find that the mice have eaten all the peas
mice do just as they please.

I wish I was a mouse
paying no rent for my house
and eating dried peas.

So the scene's being set for a bet on the horses
the bingo's a no go
because the callers a know it all and he caught you cheating
that's why you would have been eating peas
if the mice hadn't of beaten you to the kitchen
do you
understand that the balance of probability is out of your hands
as you hand in your wager
to the girl at the counter and she counts out your winnings
and you think that it's cricket and go in for one more innings and lose the whole wedge
We're on the edge and we're tipping as the whole world starts ripping us apart.

Then you realise that it's not new,
it's you,
change!,
has it come to this?

Tik-Tok
the eyes lock
the brain disengages
someone, somewhere
stages a coup,
not new,
but not you.

Below me
on the seventeenth floor
the idiot is drilling again,
I think he thinks he's
drilling for gold,
I've told him
he needs to head for the hills
or
keep taking the pills
he
just drills.
idiot.

they are passionate about what they believe in and sing hymns to the one up above
all filled with that bushel of kindness and a nice healthy dollop of love.

they talk of a life everlasting
but like the toffee bar
it's just a swiz

Fair play to religion for trying
to make dying a whole load of fun
but I'd sooner have brandy and ginger
and sit with those girls in the sun.

If
Jesus truly wants me to be a Sunbeam,
it's time he made me a star.

Now,
if he or she doesn't smote me
or smite me
I think we
might have a deal.

There were of course the bells
tuned to the key
of
G.
I heard but could not see the sound
all around me,
could not see  that which bit me,
just heard the chimes like words once read
reverberating
and my head
aches.

When you split my heart apart
and the Sun died on the apple cart
this orchard boy went off to cry alone.

When the core of everything to me
decided that she'd rather be with
someone else,
I let this orchard fall to prey
and
blighted every single day and
cursed the Moon for what
she'd done to me.

Time heals or so they say,
but for me
it never healed in any way and
my blood still stands still in my
veins.

No heart?
no part in anything to do with
anything to do with loving you,
but how it hurts and pains me so to
see the orchard die and go and I the boy
who went to cry all on his own.

It is never now or never and never was, there is always the time forevermore and sometimes more than that.

I am beached on a deserted Island shore,
what's more, there are no footprints in the sand
and
it isn't Friday but it should be,
the sea
unforgiving, unrelenting sent me
here and here I shall stay.

Forever is a never stretched into infinity.

What seems to me a long time
could be no time at all.

Emotionally
desensitised,
politically
mortified
but
we've all been
******' hypnotised
by the lies we were told,
like
old is the new twenty
pink is the new black
got to be in it to win it,
it's
all ****** which is like botox
but not as filling.

I never tried to imagine the whole when I held those broken pieces of your shattered heart in my hands ,if I wasn't capable it's not because I couldn't be, it was because I couldn't see anything but the truth in the fragments of you.

I lost consciousness about the time you came to your senses and realised the kiss of life was all but wasted on the dying

and I'm trying now to picture the scene and it's impossible.

A sleeping dog I lay, among
the ashes of today with the
bitter taste of tomorrow on
my tongue,
if I bark no one will hear me no
one sees me or comes near me as
I lay among the ashes of today.
It's as if I don't exist,
I may as well be gone
I won't be missed
just another stray that's run away from the
ashes of today.

Coffee's done
and I'm about to be,

Werk or work
when I put my glasses on
passes all understanding.

if it's the ***** of the working class
I should abstain.

But I'll go again
what else?
perhaps I like the pain
or
maybe it reminds me
that all that glitters
is usually **** frost.

Lost?
I could be
the (itsabitloudboy)
may tell me
it's under L
in the dictionary,

No friction
no traction
just fiction
fact's
based on.

thinking spontaneous combustion counts as that 'inner light'

I put my trust in a medical faculty hoping one of the interns will find out what is wrong with me,

lucky?
well,
I had moments that grew into mountains which all turned to dust in the end,

so it's all fleeting?
I'm guessing that everything moves on the whim of a God on Mt. Olympus,
everything out there is sent here and sent here to test us.

Project the images behind my eyes and
feed me the words with the gravy of lies
mise over your chattels
but fight your own battles.
I ain't going to fight no more,
I ain't going to join in
I've told you before
you're just a mongrel
a monger of war.

One main street,
a hick town
fifteen light lit
at sundown,

by the dock
a boat,

in the graveyard
one stone angel looks
towards the sky
watching as a gull
floats by

Deathly still in
hicksville.

We
can project on any screen
sights that we have seen
places where we want to go
and places where we've been

but I can never get your picture right
too much or not too much too light
and conversations that we've toyed with
give another problem,
how can we replay the scene?
subtitles cast to a different screen?

Silent movies move me to a more
convenient time
where they mouth off with the sound off.

It's Sunday in the Shires
we'll have beef for dinner
and later,
port and brandy for the
guests, a game of
charades for those little pests
(bedtime soon for them)

Yorkshire,
best known for puddings
not all of them proper and
not all of them men.

seems I slipped a gear
and ended where I am
right here
still looking at the screen.

I saw nothing at all in
the bottom of the bottle
just emptiness and
feeling a bit less than before
I ordered one more.

Will you listen to what they are telling you?
can you listen to what they say?
'the future's not in tomorrow,the
future was yesterday'
and may god have mercy on me.
Today is blank
and who do I thank for that?

Time doth surely flee from thee,

(******* Shakespeare this is about me)

If they are telling me this,then I know it is that
and they can wax lyrical on the world being spherical,
I point to a clerical error, a mistake in perspective
which makes what they say
(in one word)
deceptive.

And who might they be?

They be the grey men
the men who say when men,
the dead and the deadpan with looks that say,
'no man' and signs that read,
entry forbidden,
hidden from sight.
The only chance of reprieve from they who deceive is to leave and having left,there's a fork in the road,a cleft,a right way,a left,
will you listen
to what
they
are telling you?

To be or never want to be?
a question that occurs to me,

worn out like old movie reels
crushed underneath
industrial wheels,
the human cost when
wars are won or wars are lost,
the factory floor for the
factory mind when no one can see
the blind leading the blind
it all feels so  
and don't we all feel so sometimes?

Wednesday has that feel about it.

These are the strangest of times,
hopscotching our way through
carefully laid mines,
shelled by the left, machine gunned
by the right,
some might think it a war,
that's a fact
being constantly attacked,
it's no fun being on the other end
when the other end's a gun.

These are the strangest
of times.

Somewhere on a floor below me
someone is smoking **** slowly
and it woke me,

now that I'm woke
what do I do?
do I smoke **** too?

When there's too much salt in the water you're drinking,
you're probably drowning,
which is a thought that reoccurs, so pay no heed to me,
I've never been to sea, never had that urge,
but one can drown in London Town,

I see them with hands raised
as if the God they praised would
save them from sinking
or stop others from putting the boot in,
they're drowning
we're drowning
and the Government are just
clowning around.

Juggling the
'work, rest and play'
is a struggle,
but I can do this,

In bed and thinking I'm not
drinking coffee that's piping
in the ***
( sounds of music )
look in the mirror
not impressed,
dressing in the dark
odd socks?
a good start.

There are not enough days in an hour.

Who in their right mind
could possibly have designed
something like this?

( only a madman or a God )

There be no more a white chapel
at Whitechapel
nor a blind beggar to see that
I saw,
they've built up a city of concrete and steel,
unreal for the real and there ain't
nothing more.


Bishopsgate waits for the next Bishop to come
St. Paul is a mugger and carries a gun
the crutched friars were tried and found guilty of heresy and at the bank where blasphemy rules
they've fooled us all
except for St Paul
who makes a strategic withdrawal.

When and by what is the better question,
there are guards at the door asking for me
I knew they'd be coming.

The half finished nightmare
the unfinished scream,
filed on computer for
others to dream.

It's ova and over and
I'm getting out which
is when
to hatch plans.

I divide and the guards
home in on where I hide,

I divide again to a
subdivision
of the division,
reform and make
the decision to
stand and fight,
but the nightmare was right
I should have been there
at the end,

It is forever night
in the silo until
the rockets ignite
the projects
project
unleashing the light
and again I was right,

when and by what is the better question