I'm sat in a pearl 
on your lips
Mouthing sweet hymns
Of the lemon pips
That you spit from your lips
 
I'm stood in ruby
In your hair
Hearing bitter chorals 
of beetroot stalks
That you hang from your ear.

I'm struck in amethyst 
Through your pupil
Tasting great lilacs
And smelling supple, 
Subtle lavender.

In the cowslip pips I lie,
Hidden from the buzzing fly,
While green grass beneath me lies,
Pearled with dew like fishes’ eyes,
Here I lie, a clock-o’-clay,
Waiting for the time o’ day.

While the forest quakes surprise,
And the wild wind sobs and sighs,
My home rocks as like to fall,
On its pillar green and tall;
When the pattering rain drives by
Clock-o’-clay keeps warm and dry.

Day by day and night by night,
All the week I hide from sight;
In the cowslip pips I lie,
In the rain still warm and dry;
Day and night and night and day,
Red, black-spotted clock-o’-clay.

My home shakes in wind and showers,
Pale green pillar topped with flowers,
Bending at the wild wind’s breath,
Till I touch the grass beneath;
Here I live, lone clock-o’-clay,
Watching for the time of day.

+
A bed-sits high and dry,marooned on a sandbank of night.
As  radio 4-casts its nets to isolated ships like me that rudderless drift on into the light.

Still dark outside,no sounds,save the distant echoing bark of a hungry fox ----streets away.
Another dawn ripped blackbin bag of a day creeps and ouzes in

Heavy unfocused lids fogged in the steamy smokeyness of tea and a first ***    
plenty of time            plenty of time.
Time before the world wakes to the morning pips and its flushing, brushing, rushing sounds

A greyness gathers just beyound my pained curtains, as with a silent sigh a roosted blackbird clears its fasted throat.

Then as if by magic I 'm carried, scimming high above and beyound this mooring set in a silvered sea,on a welcomed mantra known to all.

As if a calling pray at day break,following each word in a moment subline
               Un angle vole                                                          un angle vole.

Rockall - Malin - Hebrides
         Humber - Fisher - German bight
               Thames - Dover - Wight.

Each single secert understood and noted only by a few as I glide over in paced, pausey surf rolling words

North northeast - 994 - Falling slowly - Low pressure moving away - Gales 8 very poor - Backing 3-4 later - Mainly good - Becoming variable - Syclonic later - Increasing 6-7 mainly west - Swally showers for a time - Fair - Good.

Oh so good, each pure English comforting sounds heard over lapping waves of air.

The bushy wet nosed fox sulks and cowers away from the breaking sun, as the blackbird draws a dewdropped breath though golden nib and tapping gently, call a hidden choir into song just for me.

Reminding me of the things I'd for gotten I care about.

Sharp timed unwelcomed pips flood the ears to prise open sticky eyes from promised dreams and spoon-cuddles warm
As I set forth on wetted pavements, ready to decline into my charted day.  

Yet smiling as if blessed and no longer alone
            But filled with early morning salty thoughts of strangers
        
                  I
                     have
                                yet
                                       to
                                            meet

inside of me there is a cry no1 hears,
inside of me there is a guy that i must fear;
deep deep inside there is shout for help, every now and then it pips,
deep deep inside it hurts but dies down till it reaches my lips;

its a barren land inside of me, all dry and creep,A
where the trees have no leaves and the animals all weep;
the sun never rises, the moon is nowhere to be seen,
the rugged land and roads give it a mighty blinding sheen;
its the only source of light i've ever had,
the hope i derive from it, is all hollow and sad;
my soul wanders to its depths to seek company but in dismay,
every road i walked, every sea i swam but its all dark and gray;
where is it that the sun has gone, is the moon on a holiday..
its a barren land inside of me and all i have to say.....

inside of me there is a cry no1 hears,
inside of me there is a guy that i must fear;
deep deep inside there is shout for help, ever now and then it pips,
deep deep inside it hurts but dies down till it reaches my lips;

my spirit wanders in search, but its got no spirit left,
i'm tryin to resurface and i must count on every breath;
the vultures of fear await my death and sit in their perch n wait,
the bird of prey is hungry and it looks like m already too late;
is it time for me to let go, is it the time for me to fall,
i feel like crumbling but till my end i will slowly crawl;
the past is clouding and the future is lost in a mist,
my last goodbye to all must be a beautiful gift;
i don want people cryin, i doubt they even will,
the vulture i will call upon to save my burial bill;
nither do i belive in god, nor i ever did,
but the life wasn't worth livin, it was a sea so turbid;
so i dont pray to god to set my soul free,
oh lord let it wander, let my memory live, let all remember me;
there was a lot to be done, a lot to be conveyed,
i tried all my life, the voice got buried in a silence so widespread;
there were some thoughts in me, some heard and some said,
all i did was to shriek n wallow till i dropped dead....

inside of me there is a cry no1 hears,
inside of me there is a guy that i must fear;
deep deep inside there is shout for help, ever now and then it pips,
deep deep inside it hurts but dies down till it reaches my lips;

i was boy in a man's world, i was weak among strong foes,
i was dreamer in the land of reality and here the truth goes......

i was wrapped up
i was strapped up
i was blocked out i was closed,
i was mistaken
i was broken
i was shakin, out to the island i was rowed,
i was taken
i was tried
with a million charges i was blamed,
i was tortured
i was questioned
i was mimed and i was lamed,

here i lie now, my lord before you, a million queries now u'l ask,
here i see now in your eyes, you're to tired now, its the final task;
so i wont say what you dont ask, i will give you what you want,
before i close my eyes the last time, i will tell what you'll grant;
i am guilty, the charges accepted, **** this *******, set him free,
dont you hang me, dont you bury me, dont you lay your hands on me,
the vulture's waiting, my energy oozes, i accept it arms widespread,
you cannot **** me, m immortal, you cant **** who's already dead...
the vulture's waiting, my energy oozes, i accept it arms widespread,
you cannot **** me, m immortal, you cant **** who's already dead...

~ for Angela Scuteri ~

Cancer cells bloom and open
their capsules split apart
and spit the pips
on the red tide.

rich soil
fleck with a bit of black
dark chocolate
parched summer soil
glossy chestnut brown
unvarnished oak
mahogany flecks
apple pips
varnished cork
dessert palm tree
flecks of acorn shell
his eyes
the most beautiful pair
of eyes
she has seen

O blush not so! O blush not so!
      Or I shall think you knowing;
And if you smile the blushing while,
      Then maidenheads are going.

There's a blush for want, and a blush for shan't,
      And a blush for having done it;
There's a blush for thought, and a blush for nought,
      And a blush for just begun it.

O sigh not so! O sigh not so!
      For it sounds of Eve's sweet pippin;
By these loosen'd lips you have tasted the pips
      And fought in an amorous nipping.

Will you play once more at nice-cut-core,
      For it only will last our youth out,
And we have the prime of the kissing time,
      We have not one sweet tooth out.

There's a sigh for aye, and a sigh for nay,
      And a sigh for "I can't bear it!"
O what can be done, shall we stay or run?
      O cut the sweet apple and share it!

I will never understand this feeling
It's a feeling of worthlessness, is it not?
I will never understand its emptiness,
Though I know it too well
Dare I say, I want to fall in love
Again?...

Would It help me to understand,
In ways I can no longer?
I'm aimlessly placing blame
(I don't feel real)
The tip of my finger repelled by,
The denial in my heart

How can something so heavy
Be worn on a sleeve?
Whilst the skin on my body,
Would tear at its seams
I am the worst of all things

I am man-made
Sadly I feel as though, not made to last
And sadly so, I'm afraid to know
I may never make it past,
This feeling

Two months now it's eaten away
It's not a chemical reaction
There will be no half life here
And more than half my fear,
Lies in a reality where,
I can not be free from this

It's a feeling of worthlessness, isn't it?
I am an apple eaten to the core
No
I am the pips spat out
...and forgotten

I just want to be carried away
I want to be more than man-made
I just want to be Finley, Finley again

Ticking the days off was exciting
Yet became a living nightmare
She’d had an invitation to the ball
She now worried how to get there.

It was the End of Year Fairies Ball
Where the best of the fairies went.
She’d got her gown, her fairy shoes
And had made her rose petal scent.

She had chosen pale green for her dress
And had sewn buttercups to the hem.
Little golden flowers cascaded down her
With tiny leaves still attached to the stem.

She had a buttercup upside down on her head
With golden thread under her chin
Daisies draped from her arms held tight
By a tiny golden wrist pin.

She looked adorable but so did the others
They all looked like a story from a fairytale
Nerves sometimes got the better of her
So the breathing slowed down, a slow exhale.

The buttercup fairy looked divine as she did
Always and mingled, taking her time
She ate raspberry pips and  drank blossom juice
And had her first sample of apple wine.

She sat under an acorn and arranged her wings
A robin provided a pillow for her which was nice
Before he knew it she had fallen to sleep
But was she about to pay the upmost price.

She had missed the best dressed fairy time
When all fairies were judged by the chief elf
Instead this tipsy little fairy fast asleep
And was sitting on a very expensive shelf.

She awoke with the sound of little bells
Announcing the winner of the best dress
She tutted at the robin for not waking her
She as angry because now she was in a mess.

She now wore a face as long as a fiddle
And did not care about anyone or thing
She had prepared for this day since the
Beginning of this year’s spring.

The moral of her story don’t nestle
Next to a naughty little robin with fluffed chest
Otherwise you fall to sleep all afternoon
And then end up seriously depressed.

The buttercup fairy found some comfort
In a super little bar under a mushroom
And smashed her way through too much wine
Which for now ended her doom and gloom.

Staggering her way home in the early hours
Singing over the blackbird’s morning tune
She perched herself under an oak leaf
And slept until the new light of the moon

Never had a single
Sang to empty clubs and bars
It seemed our music came from Venus
While the crowd was all from Mars

We've been doing, well...a comeback
Though we never went away
We've been here, though no one knew it
You know this band is here to stay

No one knows our music
Now we have a different crowd
They don't care what we play them
As long as it is loud

No faces look familiar
Although the bars all look the same
I guess we should be thankful
If at the end they know our name

We knock off songs they've never heard
We play them just for us
They ask for stuff we do no know
And they rarely make a fuss

It's not the same as it once was
And neither then are we
We're doing well, a comeback tour
Though we've been here since sixty three

Some kids think we're the shadows
Hermans Hermits, or the Pips
We don't care that much though
If it gets us bigger tips

We missed out on a contract
When glam rock knocked us aside
We wouldn't wear the makeup
I would rather go and hide

We still play clubs and empty bars
Done it now for 50 years
We make a bit more money
We don't waste it all on beers

We've never gone away though
Even though folks always say
We're glad you're back together
We never ever went away

We're a band that loves it's music
Never made it big
We're out doing a comeback
Me, Ronnie, Bart and Stig

you spread me like strawberry jam,
licking syrupy wrists and chewing on pips.
i will thaw leisurely, until my skin has saturated through
your insanity.
open me like a mango,
slurping, drops of juice upon blemishes,
sprinkling candy through open wounds.
bite through me, an apple hard and
mouth watering.
the pits of me will fall, searching for fertile soil,
and grow.grow.grow.