correlation:the relationship
between two or tragedy
adds lily-

the trick is to recall her
first smile or an old
melody-

your song by elton
-or some dirge
by the lake´s side

picnic..
lemonade and tongue
or cyanide..

well,i say i could not
live without her
and god knows it´s

hard to live with her
changes and choice
take your pick

because i have no need
except to eat
and the elements at bay

keep..
some human exchange
would be nice

a safe enviroment in which
to be-a nice cup of tea
and a twix o

(habitual me..)
i need nothing
that is suffice..

a house was a home
but now speculation
the billionaires made 2

trillion last year-i
would do too-
no good denying human

nature..i would buy a new guitar
but would that make me any better
it any more fun..

i

do not fear the reaper!peripatetic
we have fame and fortune
on line one-
ask me a question, lily..

ok-wisdom in a matchbox?
ok..
what happens when an unstopable
force hits an immovable object..

ok..
that´s right-something to consider-
on line one
can i play my violin..it´s a poem..
(go on..)

ii

peripatetic-to wander upon
one
to find one

d has come and gone
we will miss him
so grounded in dream..

he said,all is what it seems
love and beauty, a whim-
look and find..

iii

well,this hour has sped
are we not the dead
this is lily saying sayanora-
hope you enjoy as much as

i..
yours forever
cross eyed and painless
over to you steve..
much love and thanks..

i

jason,is on line sevwen
paper on the lip
what you say,jase..?
lily,you think youre the

cat´s miaow.. ****..
you ain´t nothing..
well,i think..
and don´t give it

that old double-negative
jive asss wise ***
cause i aint even listen..
look, i could spend an eternity

fighting (and one fight leads
to another)-we  destroy,preserve
or create-up to us-we get what
we give..

o middle of the road with
a bit of bob..on mine line nine
shared bread and wine
purple the very soul..

is christopher-hey chris-did
you know st christopher is no
longer patron saint of travellers
******..

you are through to lily-seer to
the stars..what is your pregunta..?
can i read a poem lily i wrote
it for you..

on you go, my simple kind of man
try  not to swear
we are live-
in theory..

ii

you make me happy
like a lemon tree
sometimes, the lombardy

your refferences
obscure
see

an answer
no longer a
question..

rootless and parched
you bring the rain
you can

i can
why not
can..

on line two-there is
a caller?!hey?!
what would you do
if you were attacked by
a big dog, lily-well,i would run
i suposse..

though sometimes there is
no where to run..
i don´t know-something
unexpected-offer love and
friendship
a kiss-and what is your
favourite poem..?

i don´t really have one
the next or the last
walter de la mare..
or when confronted by
a predator-punch it on
the nose..prey for divine
intervention..

ii

can you make up something
now?

-i don´t know-there is
a little bird that bothers me
white wings perhaps a portend
of death-twigs shiver..
the sky howling whence
it has been-seeing through my
window-what may it be..
through one eye and frozen expression
he considers ..is it past future
or now, i don´t know..

iii

thanks, bye!..o good luck!
(i don´t believe in luck-)
my mum went to school with you
now i am ancient..

and sometimes a child..
between assorted hex
between a twix at four
and no hell..

you know that no-how
hiker-death in the eye
all roads lead
a lost log blues..

i

time..i am told we are
opening up the lines
not lying in a hot bath

with a bottle of jack
but the first caller-
we are through..

to the prettiest star!
caw..!
i have a memory-

we lived in a donkey hut
above the bay
sunset and ferry

warm retsina and
musicians and strippers
the village hummed

chilled bums-
panic in detroit
is that you, crow?!

lily,i can read your mind..did you take my underwear..?!
off the line-
click..

a lad insane..
(another poem from me)
for crow..

ii

for whose heart
(as greedy as the guiri)
for my love,
alas, can never be..

i am to myself-first!
(the wing to the sky)
for all that thirst
for reason, why

to they that share
bread and wine
to them that dare
be a future time..

there we are, stevie howling
like how can we be to the setting
son and a butterfly collector..

kidnap really, and put in a jar
so lovely dust falls away
in bitter recollection..

your tuned to lily(guest dj)..!
a dance of flailing true
from the beautiful 52s´..?!

after this voyeuristic lament
another beauty
we are all quite sane..

we have become
i will read an old one-
there is no hell..

ii

there is no hell
so we made one
such is man..

desparate dan
on a jag of boredom..
come, little soldier

eat up hamburger
mainstream stars
lonely land..

iii

as the keys fade into
thunder i have been told
to press a button..

(a word from our sponsers)
eat this ****
youll be alright-lily laughs..

a song to dead genius
nothing more sad
hearts breaking..

iv

(a reluctant admiration
always the sun
you could see we english

we were in our underpants
i thought that said alot
i was down the far end

with the naked hairy germans
in pain no shade
in the sun..)

v

eclectic can be rather
a pretention
but i thought we might go

classical-here is the man
nocturne on high
chopin..enjoy..

vi

back again-i read somewhere
he composed from his death bed
in them i find faith and love

and also a boy called johnny-
your listing to lily-submission..
you got real pretty teeth baby-

or so i heard before
the computer..to the leaving
of liverpool

the age of sail..
the clipper ship in full sail
*** ****** and the lash

as churchill once said
in a speech..now we have a break
for news traffic and weather

another..

i

EVERY WRITE IS A BRAND
new day-except without the caps
which is ok

i never know what i want
to say
lily eats her toast..

outside the thorn tresspass
she lost in reverie
slips her knight gown

and a glimse of her breast
very nice
and wraps her self warm again..

ii

like eve and marmite
sweet genesis..
the king will come

o
no, i never know what to say
like the stars
but usually  mix

the surreal with the mundane
myth not usually ****
but they exist

iii

books and music..
encroaches the thistle
she opens an epistle-

listen to this?!
the radio station wants me
to guest dj..?!

mm..mmm...mmmmm.
mmm,...mmmmmm...
m-no mention of money..

just select a list of your
favorite mmmmm..
and some relevant commentary..

read some of your poetry..
mm..mm..mm
as you will-yours in perpertuity,

steve..
ps..no effing swearing..lol..
what do you think..?

iv

when-tomorrow!?
that´s tomorrow!!
not much prep..

i´ll get ****** and be
spontaneous-never let me
down yet..

what is it-no publicity
is bad publicity..?!
mmmm..

i

lily looks up from a page
why do i feel guilt
when i have done nothing..

what is she reading?
in patagonia-
because you are..

by bruce chatwin-
like winnie the poo
and ******

ii

when they pull out
your finger nails your to say ow
not be clever..

witches were clever
or are..
freedom a little shack

by the ocean..
dinosaurs and great open spaces
sailing the albatross..

iii

a certain penguin with
comical name
send out the a team

they make a glittering home
and the rest follow..
they are monogamous

iv

until death..
both raise the chick
in turn

they are generous
they share
there is no blame..

generosity in a democracy
is important lily
says..

not only did we have our daily
milk but free school dinners
too-

(an optional..)
maybe it is the same today
somehow i don´t know..

now, is a strange concoction
of future and nostalgia
lily, i hear the contented suction

of straws from chilled milk
bottles which blue **** had pecked
and left jagged-

free milk provided by the state
which the children unfortunate
to go without breakfast enjoyed and

had two-which of course would
bankrupt the country today..
what with the price of state of the art jet

fighters..and to make resolutions
which is also tough-given up so many avenues
of pleasure already..

i

i have a recurring dream
it is infuriating
i thought it had gone
but it returns..

it is best not to dwell
on and on
that only makes it
return..

there are worse things
in the subconscious
dissolution and murdering
someone..

like waking from a
drunk with blood on
one´s hands..
no mind..

ii

i knew a dentist
who did the same
i suppose he is out

by now..
losing your guitar is
small potatoes..

when i was young
well about 25
i read war and peace

i was half way through
war
when this guy goes

you know-give me something
to read
i am dying( i had nothing)

here..so i give him
peace-and amid oaths of
return i never saw him again..

ii

i tell a lie
sitting in a dusty cafe
in piraeus

he came out the rainy
day and we greeted like
old friends..

the sea rustled and cried..
he had got married
and now her brothers

were after him..
and then
we knocked into each other

in the red light district
of amsterdamn
we never seemed to change..

i

suddenly silence
fell with a crash
scales fell from the
eyes like fish..

lily thinks-what do you
think?an interesting
begining?
she refers to reality

of course..a horse
a horse..a horse..
war was just around
the corner..

ii

i read war and peace last
summer-is long here-
it concerns the napoleonic
wars-the invasion of white russia
by the french-quite an under-
taking-1200 pages..but something
soon becomes apparent that
no-one from the emperor down
to the lowly peon,has any idea
of what is happening..the chattering
classes and society-who should know
the tacticians and generals..the politicians,
the media..no-one knows..if the war has begun
where the enemy is..and so on..and when the opposing
armies actually locate each other,that is when
the misunderstanding really begins..and the confusion
is with tolstoy himself-he kills off one of five or six main
characters on the field of battle to resurect him-prince andrei,and bring him home safe to his family..

iii

one thing is sure
once begun war
is rather difficult
to stop..

what have i done to
deserve this
(a universal pregunta)

lily moans about love
(and lack there-of..)
i prefer a new car

to be honest-(the answer)
or perhaps diamonds-
to be loved or  lover

that is the question
for which no answer
circles her ..

sometimes the first
others the last
some obscure  others
crystal clear

a sad old cliche
the effing sky
something to love
get´s on my nerves..

how it´s all the same
and who cares anyway
hate hate hate
the world is a biscuit

and i am just a cup of
tea
a letter embroided
on this old heart..

i

as i recall lily
stare off the ball
beyond the spacey
in the walls-

it was the less well
off who were most generous
who enjoyed their selves and
gave freely..

ii

gave small things
made by themselves
maybe..

some utilitarian
or arty object
with imagination..

iii

like children understand
a gift is in the unknowing
they watch and smile

hardly containing..
some what small and
magical..

i

at the supermarket they treat me
like a thief yet it is they who
steal from off of me..

(and for so little too)
they have cameras and two way mirrors
and private detectives and yet

they are the thieves..
not just the prices but in
other ways too prosaic to mention..

lily wonders and wonders when
the revolution comes and blood runs
in the gutter..will they remember..

ii

and if i complain they say
something but in their
eyes is hate..

it is 14 cents-yes-but i notice
you never give me too much-now,
i am an anarchist communist  trouble maker

they make millions
why be so petty
don´t understand..

i

can you see now
why we hated you
in retrospect..

the greed and corruption..
ah,the 1980´s..
i was young

ii

on the south side of crete
young and innocent
people from all around

the world-
cheap wine and time
it was fun..

hope is snow
on a merciless planet
too..

when guilt is passed
on
each an individual
one..

hope is snow
each a flake of genius
belief so..

the wee bird in my
window
we want to share o..

don´t look surprised
it´s a two way mirror
truth and lies
a perfect reflection eh..

burger and fries-
it´s all there
o my-my..
what a pair..

don´t look surprised
you knew all along
they were lies
some rancid song

full of the old cry
some lost throng
some smiles
like king kong..

don´t look surprised!
the sands slide away
and i am five at the
sea-side..

and still the undertow
threatens..
while o you are young
i am old..

the silly things no longer
bother me-(success)
their superiority is natural
and i enjoy all things
natural..

my cap sits squarely in
my hand-
not for a penny,lily..
the sand slide away..

other people´s faults
appall me-
says lily-

(or is it the word?)
mine however pale
into trivia..

impatience
pathological meaness
cowardice..

in the great scheme of
things-
those tiny sweet cymbals

(going ding...ding..)
eg spelling
another thing..

ii

my old man was a
generous sort
he walked into his local
and bought everyone a drink..

and he gave me what he
promised
i touched his dead hand
it was very cold..

playing music joins
the dots
or fills the void
(an ink blot blown..)

i imagine it the same
mind set as meditation..
unifys the self..
(a smile for a frown..)

something issac said has
slipped my mind
there was a time i could
multi-task but now i
can sing..

music i received upon my
birthday
at the begining of a new
decade i said
now i will play..

who will win?
water pistols and placard
verses greed?

once, a house was a home
it became an investment
(and then a tent..)

lily says, at least, there could
be a commune
(some sort of choice..)

for families-a community
away from the greed
etc..

x
***
hex

y
ye
see

z
zephyr-sweet
zzzz..

x ray specs
i loved-there or
their a girl

bold day glows
high and low
modern life so

sweet phobias
honest and saxaphone
tight by god..

in pain and wild
just fun
i hit him back

with my pet rat..
clever golly..
identity..

polly
thought provoking
i was past thinking

but her
she kept me going
the *****..

sbe charmed like
a great siren-pretty
and innocent..

teenagers
in a bad world
i live off you

or get a job
merciless
or

drink all day
sort of
o

indecision and doubt
dogs of creation
what god felt
keeps us living-

pray we never find out..
love can be dissapointing
a bad card dealt
devastation..