Your hands were silver through the night
Two silk clouds of slowly moving light
Never before have I remembered so well
The picture of honesty, the opposite of hell

Fall on me forever was reasoned the plea
A request from a lover down on one knee
Set me forward with sanity and hope
Give me your mind and your body to cope

You’re the one I wanted there in the park
Let me down quickly if you’re there in the dark
You’re the dream I wanted, the one I never met
The leaf on the ground, the one to connect

She told me of the horse that flew
The horse with a name that Egyptians knew
She told me of the hanging tree
With roots that cried and caressed the dew
She told me tales of a lightening storm
That flashed an Eskimo cold to warm

     And in her eyes I saw other stories
     Just as important as Dali's glories

Jane sat on a pine kitchen chair in the corner
of the room. In her left hand she held nineteen
ninety-nine, in her other, my eyes. I kissed her
on the cheek and asked her a question.

She told me of a white paper brick
That glided through air six foot thick
She told me of Christians that got wasted at lent
That prayed for the light through a gap in a tent
She told me of Magritte, ******* and Turner
And a boy in India selling organs as an earner

     And in her eyes I saw other stories
     As bright as the Ursa's universal glories

I asked Jane another question and she fused
It must have been the sixth time in a month
Gordon Fussey
Written by
Gordon Fussey
(M)

Lavender

Going there again hey boys
Down to utopia amongst the hair and toys
The reason's thin but my mind is keen
Down to the depths where angels are seen

Honeysuckle

She wore dancing shoes and a wide loving grin
A latex smile on a hairy chin
An illusionary nurse stood in wonder
As I touched her skin to release the thunder

Petrol fumes

Stifled walk shuffling forward on and on
Bowed head stooping cowering into view
Here I am again moving in a time bygone
A sawdust floor under a Squire shoe

Violets

Never said I loved you
Never said I cared
Never reached your mind
With a problem shared
Never touched your heart
Never held your hand
Never wanted a part
In a final stand

Bletilla Striata

Happy-go-lucky or as miserable as sin
Whatever you feel you just can't win
The girls aren't biting, there's nothing there
Except Polly's lips…  I'm in her hair


Lily Of The Valley

I looked around, she  wasn't there
Where there was hope there was now despair
I moved a bit then set my ground
She was a special affair, one that was sound

there's something about Josephine
or is my mind playing games
the quick assembly Gatling gun
the lion doll that tames

i met her on the Waltzer where
she fed me tales so strange
the fermented dog in a salty lake
the rifle without a range

an evening in a sparse living room
one chair, one fire and a screen
an ensuite rubber holding cell
a kitchen cat and cream

there's something about Josephine
i love her smile for sure
her collection of multi-vitamins
Her urge to cure and cure

It was 5 o'clock in the morning
and the elderly man with the cake
shifted nervously back and forth
recounting his days as a ballerina
his face was aglow
he was a liar to himself
and easily embarrassed.

Lay down at night, despair in hand
Another day without being touched
Another day you couldn’t stand
A perfect pillow perfectly clutched

Moments lost on giveaway lines
Another opportunity lost in a glass
Another reason made with signs
The usual shaky vile impasse

Gliding to relief and darkened joy
Another day to match the next
Another numbing mindless ploy
For sure a devil truly vexed

For I found a place
Where I truly belong
In the arms of a ghost
Full speed headlong

Living a dream
In a state of shock
Solid gone, cloud nine
Bright as Bangkok

Reality checking
Velvet soft skin
A vision of utopia
An angel within

Left the world
With an imaginary friend
Came back to earth
With a soul to vend

          A lifetime in two months
          And how the people laughed

Endless days of nothing
Ideas wrapped in a cocoon
Shame multiplied by laziness
Ingratitude mixed with false hope
Horizons blurred through tired lenses
And the insane are coming round for tea and biscuits

The custard cream disappears to the bottom of the mug
And twelve people cry themselves to sleep

She arrived an hour late
I hadn't seen her for about ten months
We spoke for three quarters of an hour at least
She left this morning, fifteen seconds after she remembered me

     The smile that took my thoughts again
     From insecurity to a higher plain
     Saved me from another streak
     In a void for the terminally trendy weak

     A brief respite or painful act
     Based on the love of a factory cat
     The night had gone and left all seeing
     A ghost in the bathroom mirror steaming

Luck fell to the artisan
He stood head and shoulders above reason
No more will he venture ungainly into oblivion
Or into Esthers mouth
The man that argues indifference hears nothing
The mouth that offers tranquillity is lost
I never did listen to Esther myself
One ear deaf to the world
The other equipped with kitchen utensils
Happiness never came into it
Esther became the spare contact lens case
The outpatient’s appointment card
And everything beginning with the letter F
The artisan was a lucky man indeed

A place that seldom mattered
Became a place that often flattered
A meeting of ever flowing drinks
Of fake ideas and numerous blinks
For fallen men there became a shoulder
A wooden rest to become much bolder
Thereto I became a permanent fixture
Of gigantic proportions a sorry picture
There I stayed 'till all was lost
An unbelievable shell at an unbelievable cost
Those were the days I care to remember
A total blitz from January to December

I met her in a place I hadn't been before
A place of solitude behind an ever-open door
The reception was deeply clinical as she took me to a place
Where a body's just a butcher’s thought and a face is just a face.

Within four walls
I once again find
No love, no hope
No peace of mind

The thing I grab
To keep me up
Is burning hot tea
In a handle-less cup