lunch

iii

you know what should occur
should you glance over my shoulder
into the same mirror..
o lost soul there!

i collected them like insect
on a shortening twine ha!
like a sunken boy in green
and darkening spaced..

like a distant crying well..
and they were question
what is that all there..
time for sharing!

faced white cry momma!
we that nothing now feelay!
feel that sucker!
ti po ta..

should you glance in the same mirror
some ways to a bottomless fall
all the endless night and days
lost into a single glance..

i

there does seem to be a lot of nosey parkers
things can rapidly become darker
a momentum of their own
soon,again,be traipsing across broad

fields of fresh bone..intellectuals are
usually the first to go the written word
suspect decadent art the smooth hand
and on till we are all looking over our

collective shoulder..work worshipped
lord what we believe in the name of
collective security and a bigger better
future..!?

ii

the goldfish in our park pond however
seem very happy together
they patiently wait their turn
and take a small bite as required..

they know they are many small smaller
all the various colours and the big ones
but there is the sun and there is suffice
they will circle love and say ola..

*
inspired by executing society

v

olives and gazpacho
toasted bread so
potato salad
hummus **..

in the glass
no
mais wee
there from
long ago..

undeniable
now
i
know..


o lord i see
only..

iv

misunderstanding is bitter jam
says lily
to be spread far and wide
i see what i see..

i am not deluded
but honoured
not a mad man
but puzzled..

ii


lunch


iii

over lunch i chewed
with my few remaning
while glancing in the mirror

and i saw myself
for the first time
as i truly am

and somethings
slid into place
i think they call it

an epithany
i have been trying
of late

through various discipline
and just catching
dissapearing

but memories one
would imagine lost
have come

to explain and
raise further
questions

in my pursuit
of me ..in
knowing oneself
there is taboo

but what to do
but in my reflection
just for a moment..

recognition

i


i and you
fanciful and irregular
what to do
the sun a finger
indicates our hearts
old and new
you and i
lost and true
it blazed and bought
and embossed
through and through
love a found star
sure and constant
to be forever
to flit
across endless skies
you and i
i and you
know nothing
but this sun..

what to say
say to what
say why
why say..

i don´t know
know i don´t..
no, i know..
know i no..

yes!
who will pay
no-one!
clap hands..

my grandfather from liverpool
and my father too
sat in the kitchen
and discussed nothing  new

tired from a long day on the busses
he fell into a trouble slumber in
his arm chair
he thrashed and fussed

we his family would quietly gather
cries of protest and stifled incredulity
cut the warm air
the great grandfather ticked..

(before television
or we listened to arther askey)
he was a proud man
with right of way..

he told the boss to f himself
if he were n´t a gentleman..
what he would make of this
world today..

so,he went through his day
and we tried not to laugh
the man who earned his wage
tired of this *******

i guffawed and he woke
he fixed us with his pale
beautiful eyes..
and later the next morning

in  the lovely little back
garden
in the hushed roar
he said we would be friends..

i

i washed up for a living,lily,
for a while there
this is something george
and i have in common..

on the whole i was treated
decently
pearl divers are a breed unto
themselves..

mine was a life of ease
over eating and boredem
it was ******* the spine
and knees..

a piece of cake compared
to digging holes
(surrounded by the boss
and his extended family..)


the pop wagon on friday
cement as a whole
the olive oil factory or
carrying bricks..

ii

the pop wagon on a friday
took only two hours
brevity
that was the answer..

the cement truck on
tuesdays
took two and half
hours..

but ended in tears..
the shift in the olive
oil factory
could last eighteen hours..

digging holes an eternity
carrying bricks up stairs
works up quite a thirst..
never mind soon be..

be in pauli´ s soup kitchen
where wine smooth and cool
as honey bees..
chicken and macaroni..!

iii

the cement was high in lime
and invariably chafed the skin
and in that hole it would set
to be picked out with olive oil

and a pin..drunk,the screaming
and carry on..
we laughed and held them down
better digging holes..!

it was so painful..!
down and out in paris and london
by gearge orwell

i

too hot
oto oht
oot tho..!

not to..
nto ot..?
ton o..

to do
ot od
ot od...

owt..
tow
wot..!?

ii

burning illusion
(not cars houses
and so on..)

a heat of vision
take the floor now
root man..

truth song
seared at core
end to want

and poverty
then-
too hot..!

iii

is it Thursday already
sheep all move
he is cocky
that catched rat´s tale..

it is balm that sooth
firth of forth
in my crib
i laughed..

lime in the coconut
ad lib..
i broke down
on this day..

and turned to
sound
it was somewhere
to belong o..

and two legs
sure sanctuary
a beauty of vistas
your eyes..

i

why don´ t they just make a machine
that does our living,lily,darling,
save a lot of messing..

we live all these years and then
slowly our memory depletes them
(though they say all memory lives within..)

if we were programmed at the beginning
some kind of limiting of emotion
ambition etc..

alpha to epsilon
brain washing
soma..

*** but no reproduction
endless fun
order..

is belonging
art gone
the way sure..

simple dogma
love or go
love..

ii

lily says
love is meaningless
unless we are ready to

die..
who is..
would i..

i
stood
high
to the very

devil..
fall over
weebil..ha..

but to die
and see sun
rise no more..

little bird
sing
in

the silent
dawn
sweet voice

eternal greeting..
blithe angel
o children

of the future..
messenger of
the gods..

loyal gaurdian
to ever
and never..

outside
and know
a silent cosmos..

be born anew
to heart
be found..?

through-out the poem are references to the
brilliant novel brave new world.for which i make no
apology but as a mark of respect to great talent of
aldous huxley..

the moon rose last night
like the last man´s sight
from his true loves´  eye..
(-cried a great wind´ s sigh..)

the sea whispered silvery
the still and blue agave
i thought of you
soft you´d say-
something that nailed my
dreams to the wing
also bleed like
wreaths..
a few word that burst
till cry
a word
till we die
sun and wise..
may we be on the
other
side
together
lily you and i..

i

lily says she is the very epitome of sad
her heart distant on some abstract crusade
the pain of man etched in purple braids
hung her black eyes lost to dissolute and
laid out before a death of finite rainbows..
that is just sunday afternoon girlfriend

i say,the cabbage white that circles our head
flutters and settles like the love fades
but will ride smitten the cosmos allows
indestuctable and possible to near..
no further abundant like gods own bow
lily my sister..

ii

all around this blighted globe
people are told to get go
mostly by fear and guilt..

so,
so they went to the new world
so called..

but now on the whole
for the most part
that is ****** too..

the moon is still too far..
hard to say
what to do..

i

give me my lifes´
the day crowded bright
and the night sumptuous..

give me my pretty wife
where love at first sight
bind us..

give us two souls blithe
fused as light within light
sweet bounteous..

let us soar and dive
like content swallows might
time in lost happiness..

( and let trouble and strife
bind-us the more tight
like our first kiss..)

give then to two one life
white to white
whole as stars

as love unto death
might break apart
and ride the cosmos..


ii

the jonah by james herbert
a heist goes wrong and a colleage
is shot..

just another debacle for our hero
in a long list
that has him transferred to the

drug squad and east anglia..
to live in a caravan..
keep his eye on the locals

and drink strong beer..
ellie his partner
makes him eat

and they fall in love
though various tentions rise
due to his troubles..

some flash backs
a left baby in a toilet
sadistic stuff at the orphanage..

bullies and dodgy collars
his step father is strict
he is an ornothologist..

there are drug related incident
a dead vole
a us pilot bites the farm..

some little boy thinks he
can fly..
the water supply
some pilfering

some heavy knocks
some bad lies
some kitchen

small potatoes
but all part
of mr herbert´ s charm..

a huge storm
the spooky old mill
a wild trip..

and regression
bad men
bad men..

lot´ s of struggle
the raw products
towed in by trawler

assembled by the knights
torn
and a lost twin..

a monster in the flood
where others die
a maitre d..

a ***** salesman and
his girl in a caravan
the fishermen..

helicopters and
victory for
the forces of good..

and the jonah
gone and all
is light..

the end..

placed indecision into your opponent´ s
heart-
an affair without end or start
but a cunning infinite!
a wheel of endless doubt..

a labyrinth of love and hate
that waves from the nights
and make past the very moment..!
suggested in  plain silence..


and the stayed magic of third word
light of rhythm and humoured..
-soon a rat inside a box
-thinking outside a box..

a vortex
lost
another´s thought
caught..

today is a special day
i see an old boat
in need of tlc
at sea and storm..

i saw in a special way
a clapped out tambourine
a sky beyond there-
burnt the book of hate..

i saw your hand in mine
loving til the day we die..
woven in a god like trait
beyond and now happy..

i can do no right
i feel like a blight
every wrong so
movement..
no how silent
(if war became art!)
the sun and moon yet..
i feel a great debt..
i think soon be dead
the hare in the moon said
just a stop gapped
reborn and bled..

i

i think why not to let
but proved the query set
a double somersault-twist
or kiss your sweet lips..

can  end in cold death-
still the birds in the trees
go cheep or not at all..
i have reason to not question..

ii

i have memories return from the crib
it is all just part of the aging process
we beetle by saying that can´t be right
the lights´ get bright and bright..!

birds talk to us but i don´t hear voices
we become preoccupied with prices..
i recall four blackjacks  a penny
dying has a long curious way..

i am pretty sure i am someone else
absolute and completely and yet
these early feelings as blithe pictures
remain constant..



iii


more work less ******* about
but creation is just living
some absolute and indistinct
(it is tough being a poet..)..

iv

lily says,for it is her,
you don´t play no more,
only i say in mind
the years don´t lie
content´ s fragile store..
repetition dulls the brightest
core..eventually a silent purr ask´ s why
not why not..

v

why write poetry says lily
because it is a futile act
of achieving something perfectly..
we like that..


or like stubbing one´ s little toe
a rabbit from a dream hat
in a vain effort to retain what
remains of my memory..

lily why not or why bother..
lily red diamond from her
eyes sparking like a star is
just a ******* star baby..

she half nelson bottle wine
why do anything..a sign
a metaphor an hieroglyph
love and hate lily..

or the little bird in the agaves
i would like to shoot that one
hate and love lily
porquoi-pas..

vi

i read o twenty years before actually commiting to paper
not much but i knew the stuff i loved and kept there
i know it was charles bukowski i loved his funky gear
thank you norwegion liz for lending me his books dear..

ham on rye and factotum you say don´t lose them mf
i swore i would not lose them i would not lose them kf
kind friend..but i lost them i lost them..df..
dumb ******..


i leant them to someone that swore the same
they suffered an horrendous head..crang..
on and the books lost the books got lost..
there was scant satisfaction in plaster form..

maybe they went to a happy home
so not my fault that his drunk poems
god is he fun liz i hear your laugh then
such a wild sound ..generous so!

you said i should write and thank you
only human to encourage me true
and always a good drinking companion
you bought decent wine..

i adored cognac o..that was my poison
you always attracted van gelis errant tounge
unpleasant but one had to watch him..
that was his fun..

and then backgammon
goes a bit faint then..
i would like to say i won
you told me roland was cheating..

i think it was fun to play him anyway
esspicially on cement truck day..
not that he ever bought me a drink
not that i liked cement..

i lived with roland actually
this stopped any conversation
i met him by accident in eilat
that place was a laugh..

i think i enjoyed the second time
first loads of day jobs though i
played in the streets..and living with
the russians..

that a blast lily..my immediate neighbor
we never spoke..and the police pulled his hair
and yet not a squeak..a match box of grass cheap
i went to silently get a light..

he did say never run boy..
i thought alright for you
alright,
who was playing late night
in the soft quiet night..

so i was nosy
within the deepest hush
a glass and bottle jungle
impossible this silence

and i could hear him swallow
once the army ran through
i was tucked up in bead reading
by hopeless candle light..

i met roland in the peace cafe
a misnomer if ever there was
he picked me up and tossed me
around..

hey mike we got ****** and under
the landing planes roaring down
aint had hash like that in so many
years..

there was the red lion and at seven
free food and a drink and a movie
i read miguel cervantes..they
play the eye of the tiger later..

then the hard rock cafe with killer
egg and chips
i worked with an architect and made
a few shekals.

vii

i got out of there man i went south
dhab a quiet hut and goats..
that is the life right there..
o the corral beauties..

the stars as glimpsed through the palm..
pretty carpet and soften-songs of balm
brain blown and fly blown
and then back to town..

which came as a shock then
i had a drink and a very nice mention
for the cafe at the bus station..
i salut the the patience of the librarians..

all is vanity and the mirror seldom lies
where do we leave us lily smiles
truth and our honesty cries
somehow is away just a while

might as well..
where has the passion
gone..
that kept me top of the
chess ladder 11 conseutive
months..

the salt and vinegar of jennifers mouth
how did more become so less
well that´ s life son
dreams gone south..

ii

back from work
she has performed
her summer time special

bringing home a sick and
poorly animal..
it has only a single eye
and a ****** hole

a cat..
difficult to tell
is it petty to
mention the smell..

it has an infection..
but she put it under
the tap..
i know the routine
by now..

the vet yesterday
the vet next week
day 2
it follows her like
a puppy..

this is what she did
with me
lol..
soon it will be happy..

iii

she calls it stinkey
is that a word even
now we are locked in
so she can get away..

we have had nearly thirty
surprised the landlord..too..
i don´t even take drugs or drink
how durable the human..

but not as strong as this little one
wants to come in..it has food
water but it really wants my room
its lost orb purpling..

now there is ***** spots
but it will come on
only a little cat but
a small victory for love..

now it is crying
its fur is wet and matted
but out of that one eye
so much..

iv

it is siesta and i feel guilty
but football call
of the wild..
i will say on stinky..!

v

oh,the hand of catalan!

is the beetle a monster
all things relative then
i mean if a lot littler
we all lost on some plain..

if we clubbed together..
the truth an overpowering
could turn that sucker!
or ants lost in irksome dream..

i

there seems a surfeit of little brown butterflies
as there is at this same time every year..
two encircled each other in great spirales
whether it was love or war remained unclear..
one sat as motionless as some green prehistoric
flesh
free of tentacle amid still to rest..

ii

given the approach of freedom said
how long do we then hesitate..
perched on god´ s open hand and
ruminate in the gentle breeze..
oh,so long captive but free
crashing at the lost and unseen
fly away into a greater freedom..

lily, why not
a t shirt
heat was hot
an open heart
work would
donkey hut
time stopped..

dear to me
a treasured boot
wait..
white cut
blue eyed
the great truth
an old blanket
said stars about
my own route..

lily,young then!
youth when
a day eternal
a planet suite
how sea blue
how skies blue
how warm bread
nothing all and
not possible..

it is about and in a fine spring
the all and thing wild flowering
craning their god like seen joy in
ecstasy..

as little birds laugh twittering
a mild breeze everyhow flowing
across and to blue fresh scenes
a love of endless sea..

grief and death banished why
in this holy birth of the legendary
sign of our sweetest beginngs..
sigh the moon and suns to see..

we are the ones who are impossible
we are the ones who can´ t smile
we are the ones going to hell
on a hand cart with a pretty tale..

ching..!

we are the ones go straight to jail
we are the ones too guilty to tell
we are the ones like an angel fell
should we step on a snail..

crick..!

we are the ones who like the sun sail
down the blue horizon and then swell
with such fear and pain might pale
before the universe to wail..

arhg..!

we are the ones far the wrong way
we are the ones down if up say
we are the ones who
may be many say

hey..!

he seems a nice down to earth guy
he has that scottish honesty
like a spring day
and a fine whiskey..

if he sat next bar
there would be tears and laughter-
remembered long after..
remembered long after..

what is it to lose
and what is it to win
these thoughts are seldom
far from one´ s mind..

and what is it to lose
one´ s mind
thoughts are seldom
and far..
win..what is it to..

what is it from
and what is it to
far these thoughts..
one´ s mind is to
win and lose..

one´ s mind lose or win
what is it
what is it
far seldom from one..thoughts..

lose seldom and win!
these,what is it
is it what..
far are thoughts..
one..

lily bitten
her heart smitten
she says boredom
and alienation..

she likes to sink
her teeth in
her aggression
civilisation veneer

thin..disappear her
gentle loving and wild
and grin her fang
witch caved and eyed

red..jungle side dissapates
gentleness and kind waits
some crmson coagulated
sun and moon tied..

she says sorry
a recalcitrant child
pretty and mild
a gentle sigh..

lily just bit again
she is developing
a kind of cruel sting..

tempered the pain
is sweet her loving
kindness is everything

she says then..
healing and forgetting
is scarred refrain..

lily just bit me
a love bite see
blood all scarlet
gentle her heart
spit and howled
witch caved
eyed red..

i hold her like
a little sleepy
child..
she says
sorry..and
her wild
jungle side
creeps away
leaving us may
coagulated..

i would not have died at 28
though many times i should
there, only felt twice enough
and now being me at 58..

i am on the whole a gladly
person who eventually loved
came to find some odd stuff
and disobeyed future history..

yes,now i think myself lucky
where as previous mad and sad
and time is a little lad
in my heart grows and he say..

we don´ t like spies
we don´ t like lies
we don´ t like old
steak and kidney pies..

we don´ t like others
talking about themselves
when we want to talk of ourselves..

we don´ t like putting up shelves
we don´ t like insincere ties
we don´ t like elves..

we don´ t like having to
get up on a chilly  winter
morn
and go to work..

we don´ t like bad luck
we don´ t like ****
we don´ t like such an
unfair distribution of wealth..

we don´ t like some poets
lovers with running noses
we didn´ t like the great auk
extinct since the 1840s..

we don´ t like arriving
late for a movie
or the prices they ask
for sweeties..

we don´ t like bitten by
snakes
or marching off to wars
we don´ t like death or
being born..

we don´ t like sand
we don´ t like the sun
we don´ t like the food
why we came i can´ t think..

we don´ t like to complain
we don´ t like haunted lanes
we don´ t enjoy swallowing ink
we don´ t like fawn..

we don´ t think much of a
universe so alone
we can´ t think too much
of a world full of pain..

we don´ t hold the horses
when it comes to drugs
or alcohol..
we don´ t like to make a stink..

we don´ t like being too tall
or too small
too fat or too thin
and so on..

we danced around the may pole
though sometimes it rained
i watched the falling rain
and considered god´s soul..

(ribbons of red white and blue-
though what jingoistic sentiment
had to do with panthiestic beauty
i did not know..)

still,the grace of the little children
something old and something new
sometimes the sun shone
how sweet the circle grew..!

a hoopoe flew to  silhoutte
with  snail or such lark..
pivotted a proud head
a grin like a wise  monarch..

it´ s variegated plummage
blackened by twilight´
sigh..
side to side it´ s mischievous
eye..!

and all a rush now away
up and away!
savoured it´ s catch at
the end of the day..

home to it´s roost
in a flurry of detailed
be-
the swallow and hushed
agave..

i realized who you are
when lying in bed
last night..

i thought this being
rather typical
of myself..

i have had an awful
delayed reaction
which has plagued

me all my life..
this one
i can hardly believe..

i


more fusion of memory
reality and lost sadness
zzzz goes lily
well i cant like some see

to some apolyptic madness
this **** loves this moment
like debussys clare la lune
and chopin..

lily hits on the wine like
great kindness
elongates her blooming
spine..

man can start again..
women will have less pain
we might have learned something
she smiles you known..

all the answers..everything in us
the wine is..
wine was my downfall tst..
she blows a sweet kiss..

it gave me super powers
i was the intro to rachmaninhoff
piano concerto..
but i never thought of everything..

going kaput..

ii

somehow i was warm
not so alone
thirties are
tricky
one
with wine
the romans knew
a thing or two
but never went kaput..
in wine
there is idyl..
and wild
stamping hats
there is all the myths
not forgetting vertis
give me a tall beaker
of red and a brand fire
and the sky of all those poxy stars..
lily,i can´t concieve of nothing
we will not destroy us..

ii

i



long wind
about 40 second
s..
from begining to end..
but in rewind..

effing eternal..!
ah..the cool park bench
then we got the cops
they were cool too..

under the beautiful orbs
we shared a cigarette
and watched the stars
like so many ghosts..

getting older in
same moment..
never never
repeated..

ii


i reminisce lily girl friend..


iii

before i am dead..
i will sonnet it

how
start at the end
lily backward..

iv

sitting we by the great will of god head,
we shared a smoke and watched the brightest stars,
any,we were alive of stoutest hearts,
not ghosts..never..never..never..she said,
we laughed..and gave yesterday´s old sad bread
to the ducks..we will recall the past war-
they say go to hell go there go very so far,
for i would rather expire...yet....be dead,

we were blanked and from the ******* harbour,
he ran off for his gun after a ghosts
stance and i thought this cost..(and i so lost..)
she hurled stuff at the night right manager,
then soon about second we were like hosts
reflected and shiny it´s love the most..

i


lily,
i am adventurere see
on some great clipper sea
but no pressed, no not me,
but to find courage and honesty!

i love robert louis
conrads style
i want to be..
gauguin..free,
in a mad spree..
a pearl in your teeth..
beauty...!

they see land
the tree..
rites of passage
and stars,
lily..
and god..
old by forty
and some forsaken past
and riddin stories..
to driven quite mad..

there s one about me..

or i tell this one anyway..

when i was chased by the hotel
manager by moon light and
gun point..

treat us like *****..
stay in that *******
fire hazard..
i held her back..
she threw stuff at him
***** got his gun..
it was fun..

ii

so we curled up
on a park bench
and watched the stars..

iii

she said
lily
it was filthy
and bunched a pillow
case
that slammed the distance
and surprised his face..
the other followed this..
he could not move as
he was too ******..
the sheet was a full sail
beauty that shot past..
and engulfed him
and stood a ghost..
i thought this might end
badly..so what seemed an eternity
followed while he fought his way
out and an expression to be..
golly..i thought,you should live
with her..
he ran off for his gun..

iv

he was only to show
room..
how did it go so
wrong..

v

so he runs back in
what a nice day it
had been..

we had a royal
harbour do..
cognac like mothers milk..

shame to die..with his gun..
there involved some ****** struggle
i noted myself in the middle
i should stay in this hole..
we giggled..
ah mercy..

and the long and winding descent
backward we went
our hotel manager wants us dead
i wouldnt haunt this bet..
lily you witch!
i am innocent..
and out..
down and out..
and no room..

but the warm night
and the bright orbs
our real friends..

we cried down the stairs
to our muse
our true friends
be ours..and ***
else..down and i
our true alleigence..

he waved his gun at us
he showed us eternity
we went
rather live in any tent..
then wave that infernal pistol
at us..**** your tip buddy..
and we choreographed..
while she charged..
on our park bench
we laughed
down ..

vi

you were only to show
a room..
that is not so much

i guess you were a ghost
it was a memorable stay
we had a nice day

a cognac in every bar
sun,poor day to die
dead in some hovel..

because of some why
down some night most
lily
what say..

a long winded

in the spring
and agave falling
with rain coming in..

my heart a mad thing
light a caste stone
all blue and
emerald green!

i remember the springs
lord in crete
in crete..

ii

when i was young
and awed by nearly
everything
the blasted beat..
my brain a fried egg..

i looked in the mirror
and stared
who the **** was that there..

the blasted heat
the autumn sun
and wind
and i was a beach
***..

in my winter hut
the day a paper´s cut
away fom a soft
blinding night..

iii

when i was young..

iv

small bamboo constructions
right bang next to the surf..
with some red wine..

thus illiminating
the rent man..
stars and the moon..

and phospherous..
i had my guitar
and sang a song..

v

when i was young..

vi
in crete
in spring
is breath taken

from sweet gods
lip..
ambrosia broken..

a flailed heart trip
the blossems and a load
of pure beauty..

in crete
in spring
i found me..

i observed others
do like wise..
they shon and carried on..

in spring
when i was young
played backgammon

and drank cognac
no problem
no problem...






vi

to sail the clipper
the crow´s nest quiver
s in the grey brine

gulls dip their
soaring smiles
lost in mine..

love in horizons
lost in prayer
late too shiver

eyes of god in
bathes my soul
one great river..!

v

i

hey..siesta..what a way
lily will slide and sway
slink over a randy black
widow spider..

to the dark gods a prayer
spinning a sweet hop on her back..
after reinacting death throes..
paint her toes..

she sings lotus eater blues
making my soul sore through
a little ditty with no tune
i say, i love her too..

ii

i read corso´ s
friends
for the first
time
in many
years..

there is so laughter
and tears
in his economy
and so wise..
every one in there..!

some of the lines
like old friends
some just so
fresh too
gregory corso..

iii

i had the legendary
penguin
what was the no..
gens berg
ferlengetti
corso..

iv

i
when some call you pains
lily paints her toes
a frown taken aim
an o blows..

and all the agave wain..
too your heart woes..
take the strain!
my lovely cotton clouds..

i am your swain!
let dvision be so
the silence so loud
the cooling rains!

how many shades of pain
yesterday´ s death throes
distant thundering
a faded stain..


ii

thankyou lily!
that is quite pretty!
a rather intriguing ditty
that sees

the decor of her digits
a plea if only
one for the lotus eaters!
sacked our yesterdays..!

healing through natures way!
this moment be
birth death and rebirth
oh scarlet crow..

and some black toes..
she adds as an after thought
wrinkling her nose
love will heal our heart

next to nature art..astrix
that is time goes
our love caught
in the eternal moment..


astrix..stolen from  i care not where
or the amusing novel by penelope lively..

i

i got a new chair
a family affair
the other
broken like
a broken heart
on a may evening..

i felt like samson..
it is ten years since
she had cancer..
lily,wilful creature..
i stood ikea..!

ii

i do loathe poetry
until i am ******..
and then i fall in love
all alone..

lily,
and my pen
just flows..
and the next day
ten years gone bye!
flown a lost dove..ah..

iii

with all the rain
the agave fallen
****** puddles
in my room..
bird song
through the nights..

lost count of the tvs
now,we have 5 cats
i read adventure..
to abode beneath
southern climes..in

a somerset maugham yarn!
i have come to like sweeping..
and have nearly forgotten
the little bamboo constructions..
by the sea..

we have one of the noisiest
kettles ever invented by man
it is a real trojan..
or sleeping in the desert
or living in my van by a stream..

drunk and free..
so,i have that chair
a long time..
the new one even worse
but good for one´s posture..
wine was so cheap..
the stars so bright..
i read the russians..
we were bare assed and naked...

the beauty of crete
i was consumed with the
beauty of crete..
their dancing sacred!
we dug holes
surrounded by family
and friends..
i dug holes so
******
so depressed
so beligerently..

but they understood..
if i shewn any sign of recovery
they handed along and down
a bottle of something..
which gave me some thing
like insane..
and we´d be howling and laughing
in no time..going fit to ****..

and for dinner they would feed us
or go to the soup cafe..!
or to say soup kitchen
and then to the cafe
and we get so ******
no one cared
and runnng after
the man..
to get paid and
he has no change
and a way we go again..

i was consumed with the
dazzling mountains
but the villages impossible
too quiet
too ******
time after time..
i always enjoyed wine..
the local style..
ah..the bus rides
so close to death
the silent left
donkey dread..if,
the driver met a friend
we would stop for a drink
and a lot of shouting..
i worked on our gabbage truck
when george had to have his break..
george was our landlord too bless
he gave me a present every day
he would eat half a nut and press
the other half on me..
and come in the room
when he chose..
with a wild scream..
we had a lovely garden..
and frighten everyone..


he did not want a vacation
and to show his disgust
raced in front
and picked up
the garbage..
all his money went
on cognac..
we stopped at
most bars..
and at the end of the shift
we spied on the hippy chicks..
george would get his wheel barrow
and moonlighting..
i would play backgammon..
and do some reading...

you got it all wrong
it´s you..
you have said it in song
it´s you..

they burrow in your tongue
it´s you..
we look from your eye hung
it´s you..

you will shiver black and brown
it´s you..
they will carry you down-
it´s you..

to hell..while your screaming
it´s you..
if only we were dreaming..
it´s you..

why and fingers pointing
it is you..
one great red circling
you..

something of the fate
something from the past
let our love last
it is YOU..!

we, that is my brother and me
crashed their dressing room!
they were real gentlemen
they were real understanding
****,we were ******..

i had this in my ears
from morning through night
saved my ***
as we argued..

we liked st paulis!
that vauxall estate..
covered in scabs..
we argued..

argued when it rained
which was almost daily
p would say
his picnic thing

...which was a veiled cry
to get out the skins..
through gentle pitter pats
the locals guzzled their

beer under orange taupaulin
we grinned at each other
and as the rain came down harder
we sank deeper in the mire..!

ii

we are to marry
before we make 60
i figure as good as
a time as any..

dress up in finery
write some poetry
two gold bands
for all eternity..

we shall honeymoon
in the fenlands
see peckham house
stay at my mums house..

when i tell truths
it sounds like lies
and vice versa

so i say
in moments of love
why..

this is this
that is that
see my magic eye..

spirit of air..
i don´t know
am the first to

say..
i believed through
nature a true friend..

and you..

i actually talked to my heroes
and they were pretty interesting
some say never meet your heroes..
some say there are no more heroes..

but i found them modest interesting
and fearful in about the same measure..
so..
i noticed the rats did too..