The Gods have forgotten how to die,
in the Serengeti the Lion fills his cup.
Gerrymander those dreams furnished as overkill,
for safekeeping store them in a crucible so that,
Warriors pledge wherewithal returns,
a monstrous bounty to wrench
the loadstone enduring.

The wind chilled the dead pigeons
the chimney had long been dormant,
if they had lain elsewhere
their beaks would carried the seeds of change,
yet the graded storeys were never condemned
as long as the Portland stone cladding
was not too evasive,
growls from under the porridge table 
by the occasioned Ginger
spared these absurd notions

The radio song itself had died on the dashboard
the new abjudicator had shorn
the Moon like a clip board,
whose patient shadows wane,
those cornea headlights  now incessant,
our sudden rasp of thirst
seemed to last until the first Sprig.
Moments we shared later recoiled,
our needless surrender held no prevarication,
yet others less incurious could only wish away this
dirt-road.

She purchased a Trilby hat in lieu of a Stetson
Her shoulders seemed to stoop
whenever she lit her famous Sobranie.
The rolling countryside always felt like despair
more bramble than Strawberry Fair
She found herself in New Brighton, bracing the sea air
a sought job in a Mobile Fish and Chip Van
was assuredly the Lisa Presley way.
But her heart hankered for Hull, the dare was brazen
to  partake in a  Photography class
to record civil disobedience.
Perhaps a suitable hat
would be a beret
for that inveighed look
our dear Sandra McClain.

An auto dreamer indifferently  tastes the essence of green
quietly silent screens will then self seed
and the rains court memory,
are we all co-owners, longing
the freely given lichen.

Sitting pretty Thelma answered
because she was thirsty,
the mildew in the bathroom
reminded her cold air snagged,
random thoughts of the hunting sea grasses
quickened the wish to be free,
a clear voice set in motion
this captive flow .

absconding beneath the open skies
perhaps she was never accepted enough,
the hills sought her as an ionic bond
colonnades made a  portend for her
as amber resin, to beseech
the seeming evidence she alone withheld
that infinity excludes capture.

She unaware, acceded to the invitation
his deeds would haunt her,
a restaurant and laughter
an  after kiss followed by her gnawing  expectation.
internalised, fear of commitment.
She in turn absolved  lingering impressions,
where bare stone walls only cherish
the wherewithal to survive future loneliness undetected.

Although I too have forgotten my lines
today's celluloid seems to be shedding its script
the raw talent confers a lack of oomph.
Only my projection screen follows perfection.
I'm caught in a nitrate web,
with partaken beauty firing
my basement dreams,
onward choices amongst Colleen Moore
and Blanche Sweet
testifies professionalism spoke eloquently without words

Why are the Re investors
not stampeding to praise our  spoils.
deficit donations shame Animal Sanctuaries,
but who questions  others  economic sustainability anyway .
The land of plenty even asks for Red Cross
Do we have what it takes to stare out  this fixed point ?

Fly away, Fly away fast
The Red Baron got you in his glass
with his finger on the trigger
he'll shoot you down in a jigger
and your end will be the same
shot by the Red Baron,
falling from the sky
like Icarus in flames .

The spindle was polished, very brightly
to set the embankment's observations
of London a swirling,
- son et lumiere
because this French glass bottomed vessel
bobbled and flustered
in beseech
of the Isle of Meander.

to lift a canopy of shrubs
its best to trim
otherwise Twiggy
with her own violatile techniques
will become rampnant
and may need airier handling.

If she had her wish
she  would mistrust she was alone
and not even lavender on her pillow
could ease her excuses.

Have you tasted jealously ?
its like a misshapen stomach
that swallowed jellied biros .
Are you lacking in choreography,
where your own walk
should be the more significant dance
rather than the musings of a foolscap fanatic.

Alchemy beckons
I once saw him scribing pollen on bat's wings.
having long strolled the  flattened earth
to capture mischiefs wonder,
wading through patented spell books
he obsessed on Death Cap Mushrooms as a panacea.
Once he levitated a Friesian
for no greater nocturnal purpose
than to mock the knowing Moon.
I had long sensed it was in his power to grief
stranger's dreams
but his ensconce was that of an Artist
rather than the Master of  Misrule.

She sang hymns of praise,
appearing distant,
for which marvel she did not know
a Rowan or Wren
virtues of fortitude  in an unsteady World.
Her eyes worn
had fallen upon this empty shell.
What seed corn do we grapple
a hoarse breath
and in her very own Garden of Eden.

Shes my white mountain, faceless,
an antidote undetermined
labelled avalanchial
but never contradictory,
in the frozen glaciers
where the wild track progmulates morsel light,
I will fight stupor,
tranquility solidifies
before the imminent .

The ****** for any Allotment holder
is harvesting Pumpkins with foliage,
for October, with the clocks back
they'll relish digging over the ground
looking forward to another year.
Meanwhile the Farmers markets at Herne  Hill and Dulwich
will set our retro chic spiraling,
a half loaf of brioche and a Mrouzia Tajine purchased
amidst the newly  penny conscious
"adequate provision" becomes our norm.

An Open hearth can never console the feelings inside
Those Northern Cerulean skies tarry
but I pick myself up when I listen
to the forgotten silence
between hoping your words
carries invitation.

The Cri de Coeur
screeches urgent emotion
but their Exclamations
are unpicked , back to determination
Did the Revellers needlessly pay for this their Summer ?
But for Capricious truths
they now run fickle and jarred
naked is the heart of the matter,
a hastened path runs counterintuitive
as empty silences often veers
ungrounded.

Letters rustled through rustic byways
Time began to  find refuge
Snagged dislocation then broke at the seams
Houses toppled ,
Easily operated
Super deep blue highways
punctuated the purification.

I wanted to out perform performance Art
so I painted a splash of colour to your dress
but the revellers were like City drones
deciding this was unbearably light,
so I moved back to Molly, who still unbowed
performed her theatrical reprimands
but the Labyrinth was like a pulse
translucent.

Muster and Roll
Imagine time and the continental plates merging
Trust in no one, Enkai or  Snake oil medicine shows.
Gumbo stew trumps the Serengeti ?
Wildebeest hording into the new territory
Manifest destinies assured.

The Coalition floated to the top
surely they are not as talented.
Political stealth shuns the warmth
but even with a slice of toast
its our Winter indoor's
I can hardly believe the cheapest energy tariff
won't congeal us soiled people
promises made by this peculiar hue.

My Sister Annabel
wore a button hole Anemone,
reflecting a broken heart
Sometimes trellises harness
country abounds
where the Land owner promises
wealth and company
and instead finds himself a scullery maid
where the Mastiffs in another life
may have been the commonable.

Aching legs won't carry your lazy ideals
The light patterns on the veranda dissipate
your past Summer's glory
Aged arguments still tarry a cast
and slightly overdoing it at the Lido
promised more than capability
as your range shrinks day by day.

He bleed into a cipher
yellow tinged cornfields recoiled,
beyond the woven baskets
unaware the cruel season roamed,
naked our course runs
the languid seasons rendered.

The bomb blast tore like a new toy.
Science who ranks as distemper
outshone the future.
Scribes of contemporary fore
deliriously notated
the torn ligaments.
Opiates scream dying life
The bomb blast imploded
our unspoken rationale
short of Humanity.

An answer is seldom as long as the day,
vaguer than a whistle stop
we gathered pace
recalling that question
we thought as clever,
those fledgling time lags
have since prolonged
the prodigal quest.

It must be progress
when Alpha to Omega
is uttered by a child.
Can their BBM's really
create a new World vision ?
Are part time Revolutionaires
thickening the Plot
and will the threatening Sword of Damocles
ever be ploughed into something
more askance ?

You felt a Monster
when your Hamster Wolverine  died
Did that almost turn your head to Sylvia Plath
Yet you are decidedly amongst the living
and should never pilgrim with Mannequins
When Life's bedevilled by doubt
can your wise  friend find rhyme with you
perhaps to Scarborough and back again
on some weekend decider.

Justina who knows
where the roses were sent
will you talk purposely
to benchmark your clement start,
not so clear
Tears will oft play their part
beyond the Parterre

My house Wren shuddered
as the feast of St Stephen
passed by,
when I  dreamt  I sought Diana Rigg.
How I love Greek sounding names
But Ancient slaves
were never Di Vinci,
sometimes leaden smiles
lacks vocation
but will ring fence the loneliness.

He feigned the Wolves trail
having bathed in country ponds
Tangles and cold fleet,
flowed the scene.
Buoyed by this voyage
he proceeded to chortle,
by shaming the stunned Rainbow
The glow of  Midnight incalculable.

I  am busy chasing serpentines,
figures of eight loiter
at first hesitant then alliterated
before a snarl shakes
off the dew from a Renaissance figurine.
The opposite of azure skies
will proclaim Da Vinci's motivation
But his David is no hero
he presides as resolute
as ecclesial stone.

Stunned by the oyster beds
Arrow-smiths lost their pledge,
the silted whispers of the dying
sighed as peacefulness.

I'm gazing toe fat first
at certain things I wish not to see  
like cathartic cathedrals en vue,
still I've forgotten all the rules,
twisting butter knives
runs counter, yet upwards
into spare rib cages,
will silence placate those tectonic plates
can the river merit summer this way,
as Hare Krishna bather's prays echo
blind-side towards the shady grove
already lost to the knowing season

They're playing for high stakes
the debonair with a new coiffure
has spread her moment thin.
The surpassable  cat's eyes junctions
sped her dreams spiralling
But Heather's not for turning
Dappled with a moon lit high

Fledgings playing against the Big Stars
hard hitters pummelled
just for their supposed being
Headliners durability chiseled
the chips are down
and the Fender spreads
a hard rain

Syntaxes and ulcers
Dead boots breaching civility
two by two we walked
towards an upbeat anthem
only upset by the limitless
possibilities from numbskulls
inviting chaos's stupor

The China Doll sensed lonelinesses
as the swirling wind hugged her
cracking her porcelain face.
She hoped the shafts of light
would fill the cracks
but the Cosmos is unforgiving
black widens, like a rivulet
encircling her dreams.

A fishbone's image on the wire
in the orbital district,
the white coated scientists are embargoing
this news discovery about Mars.
Grimsby is too far from home
MacFisheries here already
Liptons on the Way.

Don't let the Human Race down
theres too much loitering on the breeze.
Best un- invite their crypto smiles.
and Everything is Corporate,  
bumbling politicians with no screen presence,
gauche PR  and easy pretensions.
Foreign intervention snowballs
as an afterthought
by men of limited intellect
balancing their variegated inconsistencies.

Bravado's reckless,
Embezzling Pizza accounts
a small purse to  pitch
Under morsel Moon
I'll sneak into your heart,
a weasel checking out
the frilliest worn lace,
partaking in chunks
of something rarer,
dignity.

There will always  be an Autumn spat
where the cat foils the dormouse
and the Annual taster chocolate box
arrives as nonchalant
as the  mysterious sender.
Sometimes I wish we were  boxing hares
to really celebrate an outlet for renewed anger.
Munching on my bagels, i feel a pang of Hypocrisy.
I run fickle,  planning out the chequered
season.

We'll sing a song for Geraldine
but it never sounds the way it should,
the fury of the fritillaries
shares this poignant understatement.

What a linear experience
with a twisted friend  ?
Safety in solitaire set alone.
blowing away false dandelions.

Frowning realities in rogue light
finds  morning gated in fields of confines
I try epiphanies but the Moon
laughs at the opaque senselessness

As a stranger, sometimes light
both rarified and prosaic.
voyages to new shores,
yet I do not understand your  words
Is friendship a state of mind ?
still you call those who don't, select.