There's always a number one
a pin up to get off on and
that's just a part of growing up.

The father and the son
Jesus on the subway train
dressed down like a ***,

he thinks
methylated spirits, I've
been at this game too long
and when he looked a second time
the one true God had gone.

It is evening and the day feels old
the coldness comes upon me
and the lick of flames can't warm these bones.

The sun moves down the window pane
and I will never see its face again
but why should I be sad?
au contraire, I feel so glad the night is here
I do not fear the gloom as much as any man would not fear to meet his doom and I have met it many times,shook its hand or bowed before as each and every night I closed and double bolted,triple locked my door and barred the windows tight.

Freedom we take as a God given right but that is not so,go into any market place,see the many signs of prisoners written on the faces of the people there and tell yourself,I see no freedom,where but only I see jails in every sale the traders make,every pound of carrots taken to make stew and what would you do if you were free?
Ha
buy gold chains for all to see and tattoo marks into your skin,is that the freedom you'll let in,I see no freedom there.

Freedom is the freedom where the air turns into velvet touches,the rushes grow and are mad and wild inside the mind of child and all is where?

Out there the freedom calls to me,beyond the stratosphere,high up where no atmosphere would force into me one last breath.
Yes
death come slowly or be quick,the weak and sick would welcome you into their hearts and  would only think perchance of sorrow in one or more tomorrow which will never come.
So run your hands through my thinning hair you'll find a kind of freedom there and I am not afraid,I know I have to go and so I smile
and in a while you'll smile too
at times it is the only thing that those left living
can do.

Factory farmed.

Products on a production line
being cast, held fast,
coded,loaded and
sent off through the letter box,
slotted into slots
lots of slots.
Pigeon holed and told our place in
case we should forget and if we
do,
we're thrown aside.

They lied when they said 'Welfare state' which
is sinking at a faster rate than we can bail.
Sign says,'Fail'
the line goes on
won't stop for nothing and no one.

The charge hand tries so very hard
but he's blue collar,got a pigeon loft
in his back yard,
a saviour?
that remains to be seen.

I've been there,been stood on the line,
seduced,produced time after time,
a reflex act
I like being packed
I love being loaded,sorted and bar coded
I love it lots
love the slots
Love being one of the micro dots in a micro line,
being micro fed with the same old line
and it gets me every time
there's no escape.

You do realise,
that we will all
have to dig deeper.

this kiss is not for nothing.

higher taxes
and
more for fuel,

a surcharge on what they
used to charge,
and we'll be charged with paying it.

We are the shadows
in old photographs,
there but not,
and someone asks,
who is that standing
behind
Auntie Emily?
because
no one remembers me
and one day
nobody will remember
Auntie Emily
and
that saddens me
but
not for long,

we're not gone yet.

waking to Wednesday when you know that it's Friday,
the calendar has done got it wrong,
they'll try to convince me that it really is Wednesday
and that the weekend is still far away.

the world is full of triers, friars and
potholes and ****** calendars,
not even time for coffee number two
gotta go do what a mans gotta do
boo hoo

It is only the ghosts that hide in towers and
flap the sails,
through these railings
I still see
the ghost of who
I used to be.

In these towers in the town where everything is coloured damp,
lamps are lit and light flits nervously,
I still see
the ghost of who
I used to be.

The towers,
******* symbols of a modern age where teenagers came of age,in an age where every turn they make,makes them rant and rage against authority and
I still see the ghost of who
I used to be.


No ghost escapes
just waits for their
dessert,
slurping up the anger,hurt,becoming stronger in
the long term memory and
I can see what has
become of me.

They tell me
we're not getting out of this
and we can kiss our **** goodbye,
if that's the case, well **** them too
I'm not even going to try.

It's ******* it down in
#lockdowntown
it was a year ago,

this light is good for artists
but what use is it to me
it is
so ****** grey
I can't see the day
in front of me.

Channeling my energy
and the channel turns into a sea
and the sea shifts into an ocean
which in turn is channeling me.

As an afterthought
when your thinking is
caught in that space between
your mind and your mouth,

stay at home
all roads lead to
do not roam.

keep safe.

A one armed Gorilla from Gabon
climbed up a tree and hung on
though he couldn't swing
oh boy
could he sing
and he went by the name of
King Kong.

The stars were stitched into sparkling quilts by the hands of the one unseen
and the Earth was tilted on its axis so that everyone could dream.

While the dream may end in a cul de sac
we can go back and
dream again.

Every orbit is within us
and a universe inside, but
the whole human race is just a
pimple on the face of the one
who designed the ride.

Cut me a carat
let it sparkle for me.

Craftsman
draughtsman
It's the way they
heft the axe man

everything is cut away.

The evening exploded into
a cross section view of
what you were doing,

quite interesting,
but what really got to me
was the way that they shot at me
and not one of them knew me?
yet
content if they blew me away.

Skimming
a flat stone
projectile,
watching it hop
seeing it stop
hoping I'd got
one more go...

..and the diamonds in my eyes etched
crystal patterns where love dies,
I saw it all and more,
She
watched it on Amazon, two
feet below the false horizon

the hammer fell,
the penny dropped
but
no one
gets a prize.

Build me a mountain way up to the sky and
throw in a river with boats sailing by,
I
have movies that float in my head and my eyes see them all when I'm home in the dark, in my bed there's a shark that plays music to me, ghosts and chameleons they're all running free so build me a mountain and allow me to climb, bring me buckets and spades and some cool Rayban shades, I want Sun, I want some, some fun, wholesome, some funsome and frolic, a nice alcoholic drink in a cup with a straw, see-saws and dodgems, amusements and candy, men on stilts, girls in kilts, ducks with hooks, story books, slides and rides galore, give me more, more me, running free with the chameleons and ghosts, trains to the coast can call then, see the mountain and when the can falls hit by three wooden ***** hear the shouts, glee on the roundabouts, goldfish in a bowl, hole in one for a prize, crazy golf, crazy eyes.

Build me a mountain way up to the sky and I'll show you how and I'll tell you why it's importantly me, importing some glee, running crazy mad free,
with boats sailing by.

Positive?
okay
a million volts run through me,
electrify this pylon of a man,
this see through, me, you know
I am.

Positive?
I can be poles apart
magnetic in the fields
I tend so lovingly
I hear and see
you know I'm me
and
that's a positive,
right?

fires burning
turning pots of
water into
lots of steam
and we dream
of cool shade

who made you
made me
becomes
the people that we see
me, you,
power running through
the ties that find the ties
that bind
and I don't mind being
positive at all.

Too many chips
too many trips to the kitchen
can't hold my stomach in
not fooling
anyone,

Oh god!
even lockdown is fattening
maybe
I should try exercising
and more than my mind.

But I'm a bit past that age
when
I need to be trendy
where I need to be slim,
pliable and bendy
and chips are okay
not every day
just
now and then.

They were drinking white wine or spritzers
I was at the pictures
watching a rerun of a rerun of an old one,
which I hadn't seen before
but for half a crown I expected more,

they had the right idea
the right place but the wrong year
and somewhere near a cat was wailing,
not a cool cat
just some alley cat.

It was the eighties, Berlin,.
the falling of the wall
when the East came to call
on the West,

they drank Schnapps
I was looking for the traps
which I was sure they had laid.

She has the contours
that allure me,
handcuffs to secure me

I think I'll be safe.

is Trump one jump ahead
or not right in the head?
depending on who you listen to,
he's
Jesus,
Satan
the next President in waiting,
misunderstood
mad
bad
very good,

bankrupt
in bed with Putin?

not sure yet until
they come out shooting
and when they do
we'll see what's what,
and who's ******* who.

In the time that it takes to forget you
there is more than enough time to bill you
for the fortune in time that I wasted
before the man in his own time had
tasted
defeat.

No actions you take can defend you
for the treachery and innuendo
but the hands of the clock knock back time
and reach out to slap you
as the hours drift dreamily by.

The kiss and make up game
the beast becomes tame,
sits up and takes heed
bleeds for his sins,
wins no accolades,doesn't want
a runner up prize,just
the look in the eyes that
says it all.

It's a bit 'brass monkey'
glad I put on a chunky
sweater.

My hands are blue
perhaps
my blood is too

imagine me being royalty
wearing ermine and silk
bathing in milk
making decrees
'off with their heads'
if you please,
but
it's either hot soup and crusty bread
or I'm going back home and getting into bed to wait for the summer to come.

Oh
broken bough
how can it be
that you
and I
were once a
mighty tree?

Before time took its toll

We were those men who
played as boys building dens
and fortresses made from old
sheets
we were there drinking in the fresh air
eating apples and plums and
mums rhubarb pie,
before time tolled the bell
and we reached our sell by date

any rate
time's gone ain't no use harping on
about things
or what we shouldn't have done
it's enough to know
that our time in the sun
wasn't totally wasted.

This twenty first century
malarkey
is wearing a little bit thin
what would have suited me
was the late nineteenth century,

I'd go back there
but they won't let me in
because I have no style
no panache
not even got a mustache
so
I am stuck here with Covid
trying hard not to catch it,

my mum used to say,
'you'll catch it when your dad gets home'
but she didn't mean Covid
she meant a thick ear
and if you're from the North,
you'll know what one of them is.

One day
when this is out of the way
and the way becomes clearer
I will be nearer to thee.

Jerusalem is many men
where wars are fought
lost and won
and then fought over again.

Passing the time with communion wine
and a wafer that's far too thin
I am drunk to begin with
and so tired I can't give
any more.

The weather is..whatever...
wet
and
wet
but you win nothing for a pair
as Brucie used to say

and I wanted to marry Hollywood
but
went to Holyhead instead,
the weather was ******* there too.

When they're not busy hanging me
they're busy hanging baubles off the
branches on a Christmas tree
it
gives them a meaning, but
it's not Jesus leaning on a lampost
at the corner of whatever street
and that's the street upon which
I'll meet,
and here,
I seek some intervention
nothing so divine
as to make it all sublime
just
an answer for the hanged man
before he does it all again.

At the stage of a
work in progress,
an empty page
and
a pen full of ink.

Then we think our life away
in meaningful thoughts
which meant nothing
not even yesterday.

Delusions?
all of us have them,
but these
are the graveyards of men.

The eldest one who was a King,
did anything he
wanted,
to be sure he did.

I was just the younger kid
the ****** nuisance, a
snotty nose,runny eyes,
the runt,
they all seemed to despise.

Each day changes the way we are and
far away
across the horizon of tomorrow, the
day will ring
and I'll be king,
come into my own
usurp my brothers throne,then I
can do everything
I can't do now.

Repent?
you *******,
who can afford to sin
these days

it's minimum init mum?

who's eaten the shanks of Shanks's pony?
only the poor would do a
thing like that.

But we are all rich
in the knowledge that
life's not a *****,
it's what we do with it.

My Fathers tilled the sun baked earth
From dawn to dusk.
Husks of men were battered down
Until they themselves became the ground.
My Mothers all gave birth
To men who worked the land and ploughed the fields.
Natures yields are bountiful
The harvests rich and ripe
And if I have just but one gripe
It's that life's not long enough

Midnight apologises, but it has to arrive
some of us die
some will realise that to survive is not the be all of the end all.

Meanwhile the charity ball and the tickets sold
fold under the midnight sky.

I never know and I never know why
these things occur to me as time padded and passes me by.

It could be fantasy for a fool has many of those?
close one door another appears as you blink through the tears that flow,



do you care for any of this?

did the stars burn that kiss on your lips and pretend to be me?

six points

I have an untied galaxy destroying me
turning me into dust on the shelf.

And I'm punching my weight against time.

Any difference is only a difference or diffidence that you see

I am and have been sadly or not me.

I don't apologise
midnight shines not
in my eyes
I see
only
the summer.

Being out of words is like
being out of drink
it leaves the coffee dark
and
makes me think
I really
want to drink some more.

Relatively sober
the judge said,
'let's not go there'

so
I'll sit here and be wordless
like a crossword that is clueless
sometimes
it's ****** useless
but
I'll go on anyway.

One thousand
one hundred thousand
a quarter,
half,
a million,
how many more before we grow some *****
and build a bigger door?

It's going to happen tonight
and it'll be alright
because
she said
so.
And I know that it's true
the way that two
lovers do,
because
she said
so.

When you think you could
and feel you should
but know you won't.

Dreams of her eyes and the fires within,
there's a lot to be said for sin
or so the bible would have us know,

I know that when I wake and the dreams take a break
I'll be choirboy good and that's why I take sleeping pills.

No good comes of being good or too good
and it's not good to sin,
but if you dream of her eyes and the fires within
that's acceptable.

Friday tomorrow and even if tomorrow never comes,
Friday will, one more sleeping pill and that'll do for today.