My destiny is becoming quicker
I'll bound to be a middle aged litter picker
I see the cans and mackie dee's wrap
I see the hedges full of crap

I walk around the block 'n shake my head
I come across discarded plastic 'n shake with dread
The old woman waddles with her ID badge
I'm on a mission, watch out Madge

I envisage buying the remote grabber
You know the one that'll make me madder
All I need next is a bag
To pick up the sea of discarded ***

I see an old guy bending over
Perhaps he's checking that there is some clover
Perhaps he's comes to get rid of blue
No, no, no, no he's a middle aged picker too

Blood spelt sweat
Poisoned stick at my throat
Rush of adrenalin as I stand at the edge
Here's to being at this place again

The place, a false flag of declaration
The place, a false red light when it's green
The mind is detached from the body
And declares harm and evil is on it's way

The battle begins and I push against an invisible enemy
The first attack leads to no victors
The second like a punch in the gut
I kneel in pain, but the body is not hurt

Rotten forest leads to rotten homes and rotten people
Passing through the swamp of social deity
I cross a bridge with breaking timbers
Suddenly light breaks through a small gap and the toil ends

Touch symmetry
Touch you and me
Touch a pleasant view
Touch the axis of dew

Touch symmetry
Touch you and me
Touch parochial existence
Touch homicidal resistance

Touch symmetry
Touch you and me
Touch love and light
Touch a galaxy of delight

Trail running
Running into the sun
Running up n' down grit
Running to stay fit

Salt dripping from my head
All my body stats read
Sand gives in beneath me
Wind n' forest set me free

Taking on a hill
Tearing down a drop
Stones scattering at my feet
Dogs and runners meet

Sweat now a stream
Endorphin rush from a dream
Pace at its best
10k done, now time to stop, time to rest

Underneath the rug
Beside the discarded crumpled crisp bag
There is still joy

Underneath the illness
Near the vial of medication
There is still joy

Underneath the hyperventilate
As panic sets in and desparation takes over
There is still joy

Undereneath the funeral pamphlet
Reading the order of service
There is still joy

Light may fade
Light may go but come the morning
Joy can be found still

Underneath the rug
Near the curled up crisp packet
There is still joy

Underneath the hospital bed
Near the vial of medicine
There is still joy

Underneath the bridge
Inside the cardboard home
There is still joy

Underneath my scalp
Between the two cortex's
My synapses fire

Neurons become thoughts
Thoughts become friends and enemies
Only I can decide

Joy is hope and hope never dies

Can you separate a man from his art?
Can you see under his skin?
Do you judge his art by his views?
Look under yours to see what is true

The sun reaches through thick tree branches
Noisy stream welcomes walkers
Dogs seek attention
People seek attention

Cars rush by
Lorries rush by
People smile
Dogs smile

Clothes steam on the line
Feeling fine
As the sun expectedly shines
Keeps shining expectedly

Unexpected smile from the lady beside me
As I say goodbye after a day's work in the office
Such joy,  such a great smile , such radiance
Perhaps we can can it?

Unexpected number plate 'Ph1 1LL'
As he undercuts me at the traffic lights
Calm down Phil
It's only 8 a.m the morning
I'm sure you'll get to work ok.

Unexpected gorilla bursts into my home
Heads straight to the office and grabs my laptop
Logs into my old Facebook account
And starts sending illicit messages and naughty pictures
You're welcome mate, grab a banana too

Unexpected kindness from the beggar at the parking bay
Tells me that the meter is broken so don't bother
I buy him a sandwich
'Ham and white bread will do'.
No problem mate enjoy

It's not a mobile or desktop jibe
I'm simply asking you to unsubscribe
From every bit of crap you see
For every URL you key

Scrolling through pics and words does not make any sense
The urge to stop... just so tense
The flashing screen with made up stories
Is nothing to celebrate, there is no glory

Let's unsubscribe.

Vaccine 2 I love you
Mass vacation can start anew
The year can begin with hope
The year can begin...we can cope

Hats off to the Oxford team
Efficacy numbers from a dream
Now it's down to Johnson's lot
2 million a week, no time to stop

Using mRNA
They seek to save our DNA
With no thought for themselves
Into the unknown they delve

To create something new
A kind of  'S protein' stew
Not only for the rich and greedy
Focused on the unwell and needy

They fight this new scourge of mankind
Leaving no avenue behind
The greatest minds on this earth
Will be the Gods of our rebirth

I'm vapin on my escoota
Goin up da hill
iPhone12 in hand
Life is quite a thrill

Town centa is the destination
MackyDs to stop
A quarter pounder is the deal
Onions and analogue cheese all da the way to the top

Cor that babe looks nice
I'm looking supa cool on my scoota
Shoulda packed my ****
Got to put that idea thru ya

The times we fought
Over things we see as important
The battlefield laid out
Our armour ready to take the blows

Our weapons drawn as soon as we speak
The waring words of attack
Only serve to try and justify
The forbidding onslaught

For I won't try and be your victor
No badge of honour shall I take
No carrying the flag to the hill top
No victory salute from the cop

Like some kind of Irish David Lynch
I awake, words fuse together
As my synapses spark

Nanosecond choices
Picosecond bonds
Served up to me
Shall I offer to others to see?

Phrases of alien tongue
'The Pernapalise principle'
'The Goodwin ghost'

The day goes by
More synapses fire
Less frequently this time

Normality resumes
I give in to reality
Time for bed

Wandering willow leaves
dropping...
spinning...
spinning in control
no sound
nature's quiet bunch
getting on with it with no fuss
as they reach the ground I look up
to see more take their short journey

We used to ride in cars
Now w're sending rockets to Mars
It's the brilliant way to feel
As we drive 'round in batteries on wheels

Carbon fuels are the past
Select ignition, then blast
Fuels cells on roofs
Gas 'n smog aloof

Next holiday in space
More progress for the human race
Earth has been our first stop
Now in the ionosphere, first stage time to drop.

System sounds, air-conditioning
Steel and glass monolith
Designed for a cast of thousands
But only a small cast today

Wondering through this building
The sound is deafening
Automatic doors, occasional voices
Free desks everywhere

This is some kind of dark business tourism
The toilets are empty and clean
The printer stacked with paper ready to go
A lone warrior armed with PC and head mic

What has happened?
What made the shift?
When will it end?
When will we work from work again?

What colour is white?
Paint a room and have a look
Now look closer

What colour am I?
Paint my face and have a look
Now look closer

What colour is anything?
Light dances over backgrounds
Shadows darken our vision

Take a moment to consider colour
View it with innocence
Renew your vision

When I was wrong
Were you quick to judge me?
Were you quick to make sure I was vilified for it?

When I was wrong
Did it make sense to comment?
Did you think I did it deliberately?

I'm not the signal for attack
I'm not the first line of defence
I'm the guy who wants to move forwards
I'm the guy who wants to mend the fence

Postman, binman, policeman
My language constrains my thoughts
To a small world, Brian's world.

Whorfianism is the constraint
Language rules, the paint
To paint a better picture
To expand our universe

The time has come where
We need to think past the pathetic notion
of linear time, past and present
To a sentence where past, present and future
are one