this is what i did-
nothing i didn´t want
that was imperative
the way to live

it was all positive..
beautiful structures
every ways-let others
be..

give me red
and shine the
way
stars and dostoyevski..

no,relationships are as numerous
as the numbers-take michael and john
for example..

endlessly fascinating as all
or just in passing-primal
for the intelectual..

what to do
when the plug undo
es..?

three pieces quickly
become tears..
a space ship

a spinning top
the centre of the
universe

with centrifugal connotation..
and there is me-
statonary..

i

what is of variance
more than a good dance
to express

the same but different
for each one
we worship romance

or wonder our existance!
like fire or fleeting as
a kiss..

ii

the plastic palm trees or the moon
makes no odds
i am blessed and naked

son of man-fred astaire
(one eye on the bouncers)
the precision of time

the dying swan
the celebration of the ****
that meant survival

the safe journey of it´s soul
back to it´s ancestors..
sun´s rise..

i

when you purloin a gold toilet
(that  passes for art)
and break a lump off
for a night on the town-
it is the perfect crime!-
and the absolute pinnacle of
good taste..

ii

lily says she would like
a bit of that-i do not like gold
myself..

though once i stood as a child
before the mask of tutenkhamun
and made a wish..

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..

how, numbers are beautiful
i don´t see
-neither do we-

we understand the
universe
little

we are an insect
crawling up
a human leg..

all the resources
we spent on research
and space travel

had we used them on something
more immediate perhaps
we would nt be

frying and flooding
in equal measures
still,there is much

to know..
i know they look at me
like an alien

down the arts council
when i seek financing
what odds the alien,paul..?

anyone interested:
in the second part of the piece
(which is in e minor
and consequently

marked sharp-(f),
in the third bar should
be played  natural and is
not indicated so..

and so you changed it
lily is being funny
yes,i did but did not regret
the intermittent years..

i

what are we?
(that is what she wants
to know..)

identity,is the crisis,
can´t you see?
-we are the past

and future..
don´t cry,lily,
(all crimes are paid..)

are you afraid?
-dying is hard
when the sun shines

and the birds sing
happily in
the trees..

ii

there is the major
and minor
the micro and
hows your father..

eat the hamburger
and take care of each other
o officer dibble-
mandible..

iii

she is spaced as cake
(no time for hate)
running around in her
docs alone..

a knock upon the door
stops her dead
who is there
fear unkown..

this morning of les oeuf
i read of epilepsy..oof..
those temperol lobes..!

but moved swiftly on
to a saraband by
sl weiss

in the 13th bar of
le seconde deuxieme
is the f natural or sharp..

how i agonise..my copy
is a photo and worn with
memory and love..

my first guitar was a
shoe box
and elastic bands..
(for machine heads i
don´t recall..)

i listened to giulani´s
study
on the box-
tales of the river bank
a ball..!

and in later years
(when i was out of my
box)
i came across his andante in
c major-opus 43,
no six-

i was a little boy once
more
(hammy hamster)
and i have it today somewhere
but better on the whole
it remains lost..

enough babbla
recite a poem
from your new slim
volume, lily-
(ya-what´s new
pussycat?!)
ok-this is called-

fame and fortune

a butterfly ruin
an apocalyptic tune-
mansion to prison
via the silver
spoon..

i dreamed of a flower
a great sun!
what was true..
when every smile
loved only myself..

nice..delilah..
another!?
ya knock down the door..!

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

woke
opening eyes
we have epithany

when you left me
i realised but
only too late..

i


the dreaded white!
cold as gold
bold as betrayal
miserable ..!

expectant and silent
nowwhat..?
some miserable diatribe
on unrequited love?

how much better is
pea-*******..
the cat poe
who knows..?

ii

the life of the poet
(take off the t)
if a women lies naked
at your feet..

if the rain and wind
break your heart
if a song is only part-
a wart..

the witch and her
proboscis-the mosh pit,
o try to forget!
the way she´d hold her

pint..glance back at the dew
on the spider´s web
o the way.. the way..
the way young lover´s do..

iii

if i played a tune
perhaps i might sleep
but i am musical as
an incontinent sheep-

the way she sung in
the bath..identity, is the crisis
can´t you see-
little things like sledgehammers..

iv

she turns a page-
wolfe like a memory
or dream
paris and monmarte

generosity..
fun all the rage..
hey,what are we
that´s what i want to know..

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..

a little john cooper
clarke is a universal cure
i fine-a pana or para-******
or something..

melodic and a dialect
that could sweep up the
sawdust..i did nt know him
but on kings cross station

one time..he wandered past..
he looked like he does!
or another dissatisfied earthling
waiting for a space craft..

warily he eyed the board
a guardian tucked under a pencil
like arm,had ariel danced from
his head none would have been

surprised..i wondered who that
was..another wandering manc
far and far from home
shaded from us and the sun..

i))

people love to impart their prob-
lems on to you-
they like to tell you their secrets?
it´s a way of listening
without seeming too..

they want to manipulate
and end manipulated
for,if they are not manipulating
then,in some obscure fashion-

i am pulling the strings..
and this may be an end or dawn
like eyes meeting accross a crowded room
like some wave crashing..

the ones to watch out for
are the ones who want nothing
ippity-bippity
serendipity..

lily waves a finger
a spiralling trigger
the quiet linger
never say never..

i know what has happened
says god
the past has become

again..
at this rate
soon i will be..

i am happy that you are not trying to cheat me
as i am not trying to cheat you
we can look each other in the eye..

i)

no trouble to rhyme..
(spelling that is my aim)
i, took about ten minutes..

and how about, grok?!
you ever hear that one?-
to understand profoundly..

what?..yeah..grok..man..
death is..
(***,says lily..)

ii

not a question of demand
and supply
not a picnic

not do or die
same for all the pixies
or a return..

obituaries-burn
in hell or heaven
bound..

one line-or
a single word-
like, why..

i


introductions can be
awkward-i just fall
supine-

that is backward-happy
to have my belly
scratched..

i want a drink and some-
thing to eat..
men,says edna,

are all alike..
the sun in the dust
is yellow, pink and green..

ii

the place is filled
and dreaming
can it be the same-

johnny crash gets his
order in,
any requests?

fat to thin,
old to young,
ernie wants, the end,

(by the doors)
blown, are the nails
of bordom..

iii

the silver tray will
flash like flowers in
the spectral dawn..

all are welcome!
(less the names of
the banned..

some minor discretion-
a word..
a land of chance..

where the music to
ought may happen
flies on fifths and

discordant ninths..
looks askance-me?
lotus eaters..o..!)

iv

buy a flower?
and put behind your ear,
edna

for we smile and
lean closer
saturday night

we shall dance
and laugh
the world our oyster..

i have a hole in my
head-
7 to be exact-
in no order of import-

one to put bread,
two see you,
four,five, motzart!
six & seven, the glorious morn!
(No 8 MY SECRET ONE..!)

i

good evening ladies
and one gentleman!-
(caw..)
be careful what we

wish for, it may come
true..when young i
thought to be a millionaire
by thirty-

(the details were sketchy..)
and then through tolstoy
and the ragged trousered philantropist
was more interest..

and to the desert and the
eternal blue skies
love to discovery
i see in your faces

ii

something of the same
or the wisdom of nothing or
the world, chico, and everything in
it..

and if should be-a  faustian
reality
or the best for our children
what then..

do we cry-break out the
rocket launcher or
a biscuit and a cup of tea
and say, i thought so..

iii

man above everything is durable..
and, of course ,what we want most
of all-
is belief..

and this may unite us
(as it might divide-)
and where or how do
we aquire such?

argus..
temple or church
your eyes and heart
an atom in a trillion parts..

and if we knew
our reason
our existance
what then..

iv

if alien were to land and
explain everything-life and
death..
what then..

can´t put the ketchup
back in the bottle..
once pandora´s box is open
when we said don´t know..

v

be careful for what we
wish-fame-
most illogical
most regretable-

you don´t own me-
cored..
rejoice in the unknown
the nameless..

i thought it would be
something else
freedom but more like
a prison or platitude

or an endless donkey
no tail
a cliche..
you don´t know me..

vi

lily is begining to
babble
but ending on high-
when buk said don´t try

he was not whistling dixie--
hey thank you for having me
and may the bird in your hear
never want..t

so i would say
you missed that bit
out..

sometimes i just thought it
in the silence
they might

ask what my book was
about-tolstoy´s rendition of
the napolionic wars..

or  portrait of an artist as
a youngman- joyce..
(that is a favourite..)

conflict of different kinds
nobody had an idea
what was going on..

the human condition fraught
with misunderstanding and
omission..

ii

any good?
not much..
so where was i
a litany of pointless

violence..without
an ending
faith to blood
hell and small bird..