The dream the dream the dream! I write like Liz Hand. The dark underbelly of the city. Not just people dying. All of it. Every city has one. All are the same. The dark 3am beat. Put my poem in your book. My dream of it. An artist painting an artist painting an artist  painting an artist...


The big young potentially dangerous Russian stood in front of me. He thought what he had to say is important. He gave my soldier friend a note. Read it he said, it's says what they thinks about me. I nearly fight Ivan. He thinks I'm a banker and rich. I say Bro, I fly planes and write books. Dead it!, he tells my pal. My poem is about it because it's real.

I dream of my computer systems. The programs I use at work whir and zip thru my brain as I sleep. Turning my synapses into circuits. Hard wiring me into the system. Am I being upgraded with new software? Part of the system to do my job while I sleep. So I'm part of a never ending 24 hour system. Online 247 taking orders and working away. An unending task to make my fat cat boss rich. Even in my dreams I process customer orders and watch the profits go up up up. I only see a penny of this in my minimum wage job. Thank my Pagan Goddess it's a dream. I'm gonna quit my job, trash my computer and live on a mountain...

My dreams are there but I can't remember them. They're fragmented like my life. In bits and pieces all in random order. A good job I can't remember them. How to make sense of this? Do I ignore it or try to work it out? Making sense when there is none. What would I think and feel if I could just put one dream in order? Would I be more complete or less? My head is a strange place at the best of times. Right now things are everywhere. Especially my dreams. Step into my head to see...

It was a stunning landscape and it was very different than the real landscape. There was more of it and the colours and form were stunning. It was how it REALLY should be but of course it wasn't. The area was near his hometown, a real ******* ******* town called Oldham. The most nasty evil place on the face of the planet. Was this dream vision a counter to the nastiness?

There was a valley far below between the hills. One side was the road, where he was now, the other side was a steep hill leading to the moors. In the valley was fields of golden crops. He imagined the crops swaying in the breeze. The distance was too far to confirm this.

He stood there by the wall, watching and taking it all in. It was nice. Time didn't matter and there was no future, just the present. The joy and beauty of this valley was memorable. A healing thing.

What of the valleys and hills further up the valley? Were they different and more colorful and of different form? Dovestones was superb anyhow. Maybe he should go there and check. After all he had all day...

O for Orange
They were just kids flying their Vickers Wellington bomber
Out from England to bomb The ***
That dastardly enemy who started this war
O for Orange coded machine crewed by our boys
Flying at first in daylight on recon and carrying leaflets
Then bombing **** warships as their civilians are innocent
Just like ours are and the Poles and others
Our Wellingtons being caught out over the water
They fought back well but lost at Heliogoland Bight
Licked into submission by lethal little Messerschmitt 109s
And their destroyer brother Messerschmitt 110s
Their cannons smashing our bombers into the water
And damaging many more which had no armour or protection
Other than rifle calibre machine guns which were close range killers
Just ask the few **** fighters that fell that day
The battle of Heligoland Bight ended the myth once and for all
The bomber will not always get thru by day
Ask the brave crew of O for Orange
Their Wellington bomber lies on the seabed
Along with their remains and legacy
Their loss was the first of many
Which brought along the total unconditional surrender
Of **** Germany ending the Thousand Year *****

Irate Woman
The woman was irate because she had received a Dear John letter
It stated that her husband's ship had vanished and he  was MIA
The military was looking for it but it was an active war zone

Any in-depth search would have to wait till the battle was won
By then it could be too late for her dear husband and his buddies
What was their fate?

Were they even now clinging to life rafts
Or were they at the bottom of the seabed eaten by fishes
The cost of the most bitter war in human history

A conflict bigger than Jesus and ignored by God
Heathen men fighting religious men all killing one another
With equal efficiency and lethality for their respective governments

One result of this was the irate American woman who was now crying
Sadness replaced her annoyance and anger
It dawned on her, the fact: I'LL NEVER SEE MY HUSBAND AGAIN

She became more than irate
Decades of tears started to fall
That letter changed things forever...

Cookie Lucky
There goes a cookie
I'm feeling lucky!
Observed the RAF aircrew
When the huge bomb blew
An explosive filled dustbin
Made of little more than tin
Killing more ****** Germans
The blame was all Herman's
Sending the Krauts to Hell
Sound of the final bell
Dead in their beds at night
What an awful Satanic fright
We gave them a real blitz
Enough to make the Nazis schitz
For here comes the RAF!
Who don't give an eff
About carpet bombing the ***
At the time of no sun
Lancaster bombers flying high
Destroying without a sigh
Taking the battle far away
Determination knows no sway
They started this this ruck
We'd win with skill and luck
English and Empire men of skill
Who'd defend their sacred hill