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..!)

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..

i know what has happened
says god
the past has become

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

i

come on now hap
i have to go into the pound
shop-one of these days!?

h-yeah.. dystopia is a head
gp-we never had pound shops
when i was young-

h-o god!
and a young brando in
a street car-materialism was

the kindness of strangers-
not-look at cosmetics-!
all we had was brute-

or west for the more sophisticated..
now look at this land fill-
now,what did i want..?

ii

a home and a happy family
i suppose-sir...sir..!?
your dog is urinating on the floor..

happy?!sorry i lost it there..
outside..!your grounded mister-
h-que sera,sera..

i

why do we like butterflies?
for their colours
and their silence

covering with dust-
flight of a higgledy-piggledy muse
a lost youth-

tattooed on the shoulder
from flower to flower
yet resilient

a peacock
a cabbage white
free and aloof-

aplomb!
a song-
ding-****..

ii

she goes back to her book,
what is she reading?
metamorphosis-kafka..

i retire to the sky,
where all them little squiggles
are doing their thing..

lily musters her thoughts-
imagine waking up a giant insect
only the cleaning lady can cope

(sounds familiar
i read a novella by phillip roth
in which an individual

wakes up a breast!
it was too distressing
to finish..)

i feel i should complete
this minor trilogy lily
(but  if you are of a
sensitive disposition
then,do not read on..)

i am torn between the vague
easily distorted by time!
we were twenty and the alarmingly
specific-the details unnecessary-
and the forgotten..

wht..or why because no one cares
and half a story untold..
well,we had got to the vinegar strokes
(as i believe they are known-)
dog on pretty dog-my pretty madamoiselle
parlez-vouz and me..

when the police came along..
what do you think you are doing
and you can not do that here
self-evident in the first case and
au contraire-the moon on the ocean
the breeze in the palms
the white sands night soft and fragrant..

like the gentlemen that they were
they turned their backs as we dressed
pulling my trousers on i fell down and fell
asleep in the cool sand was paradise-
to be rudely awoken with a long stick..
when he began searching the sand for
our stash..

crunch-crunch-i can still hear as
he got closer and i tried not to look
this could get complicated..
so i looked at her..though she was not
really there..just too beautiful looking out
to sea as penelope must have waited..
crunch-crunch but  it stopped..
you will go to prison for a year..

(i had read of such things in the tabloids..)
we all stopped and looked at her
but she was not there..a pre-raphaelite
sight-still and innocent..we are all just prisoners
of our own device-and everyman lives behind bars
of his own making or something..

then born of desparation, inspiration..!
ok..we go to the station..but i should say
my father..lol..is a big man (which was true)
at the embassy and i want a phone call..!
**-**-you are good man(not true)..in my
best oxbridge which is prety good..
and they left us..after a long silence she
turned to me and said..what happened..?
and we got on with part two..

paul,tea or coffee?
water,please, in which life began
and our destiny-
do you think our lives have
improved with the advancement
of technology?

(or were we better off with
fantastic superstition
dying old at forty
imagination..
the peace of god..)

(have we lost or
won
how angry to wait
a second?!
how blase we have
become..)

(still,it is enough cliche
to be
or not-a luddite
poet-let him speak,lily..
gods sake..)

we have to dream or
else we go insane both
literally and whats-it..

says lily take a ******
revolution-to throw of the yoke
of the oppressor

the country is *****
to imperialistic power
kidnap and torture

rampant there..
90 percent poor
the literate fewer..higher


infant mortality or
life expectancy 50 or
bananna..

ii

no wonder we are all
banannas and you talk of
betrayal..

well i am only a few degrees
from backward
unable to talk.. etc..

yes,spring was always
hard for me
the winter was no picnic
neither
the summer was dull
and autumn ******..

that is a convoluted title
her latest water colour
in three colours
put it on the fridge..

he does appear an amiable
kind of chap-
not a genius!

but looks are often deceiving..
though anyone who sees angels
is aces..

ii

perhaps, he said that
to sell paintings-
angels are passe

now of course
how do we promote
ourselves today?

iii

their is a saying
that says
if you want the world


(and everything in it)
to know (a secret)
go whisper it up a mountain..


iv

get an agent
or have a big ***
*** says lily..

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

would it not be crazy
if we found our own voice
instead of why
we cried because..

happy howls f death-
i am alive..!
grumpy is at the psychiatrist
in the antechamber..

ii

i feel life pointless,doc,
the days pass with relentless
monotony
(not a word i use

lightly)
i have forgot how to smile
the world is crumbling
my only friend is a dog..

iii

i write poetry
this is called a bump on a log-
that is me-useless person number
three-what i say why,
i cry no-i mean no...!

better then red-dead
yeah..do i know-no
but i pretend,
a conundrum-a rhetorical
nowt..

dread and anguish in
my head..
a blemish or less
tiny spot-worse, can
it be worse..yes..super in superfluous..

iv

what ever they pay it is
insuffice and he is out!
the window-past the
gambling dens

and pound shops
past the fast food outlets
past the charity shops
past the telephone

and computer emporium
stops to inspect his ***-
ok..on!
past the pickled gherkin..

lugubrious *** the doorman
smokes a woodbine-hello
hap?!-hi ***!
examines form...

where´s the man?
inspecting his thing-
people..four letters
hap-lost in time?


past some polystyrene
past a puddle
past a moment
past a chip shop

past the sky
past a now
past the cop-shop
past the moon too..

relationships are difficult
we stand on one leg in the desert
and worship the sun

for good reason..
we stay 20 years behind bars
for burning toast

for the first kiss..
for an illusive hand
and for fun..

writing of the unknown
is there anything other
a circle, a square, a cone
three two one-

blast off!-here,everything
looks like
a mushroom?!
the light is a dividing

of a million colour
and sounds are bouncing
off clouds
like love from your lips

(go to the bar)
where is my space ship
i left it loud
now it´s gone..
three beers mate..

ii

if you can´t flash-back
on new years day
then..when..

iii

now i have system
you have one
i have one

try not to do anything
daft
you might regret

regret is a very very
sad one
done..

iv

i don´t regret lsd
it was good for me
fun..

i would nt take too
much
how ever

course you only know
later..
like now..

but at least there is
a now
not like before..

i don´t know what to say
to you-(a suitable epitaph)
belief is poetry

(cry or laugh..)write yourself
or leaves of grass!
to infinity and beyond!

i

practise and work
that is the life
for we artists..

i mean, it may not
be any good..
but we metamorphose

from human to a god
no problem-o-
we have a choice..

ii

we love and regret
just effing notice
someone-

i mean i exist..
(a drowning fish
perhaps..)

iii

remember when we
met!?
you were a purple head..

i asked you for light
and you hid in the toilet-!
everything was purple..

i did not hide-
i knew you would follow
and cast a trail

a cosmic path from my
soul to yourn
-together

we died and were
born
when you peered

over the door
for a light..
heaven and hell..

iv

we are happy
we are sad
lily laughs..

i laughed-
a purple devil?!
we had a bath..

v

remember-
i asked who you were
under a spell

you said well
it is all so odd
i can´t say..

their vanity is an eternity
if you think the stars are
far away..

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..

i like to tell of
my life
no-one has to
listen
i rather they
did nt..
but
soon enough
i won´t remember
a **** thing
the future (if one
can call it)
brief and that will
leave only
the moment..

time is circular
says lily, not linear
banging on the same

old drum..?!
here she gives an example:
as a little girl

she played guitar
while gangsters in low slung
cars slid by

intimidating
so she played quietly
(underneath the stairs)

but still they heard
and threatened her..
in three four..

why, she wonders?
anything can be war
lily,you silly billy..

is strangely onomatopoetic
for such an abstract concept
(*** says lily)-

am-me
bit-what
ion-i desire..

skin up!
i can´t..
i am too old

i hear voices..
dernier cri!
so it is..

in the garden
in the sun
dreaming..

identity
well,that is not me
cosmopolitan effegies-

multiple choiced-
your uncle stan
he is the dice man..

i

i can´t eat brevity..or
severity
neither levity..

ii

nor poetry..
sincerity
too infinity..

iii

beauty-
bumble bees
may save us yet-

iv

sanity
sweet as honey
is there for asking..

i have a hole in my pocket
where i would put
something in-un
imagine-able and then run
around leaving it
everywhere for others
to find-like small green creatures-

call it love or affection
(or money..)i should say
had-i was ten..coming from
the sea discovering lungs
and legs and a stilling sky
they lift tails o pray!
and various salient features..

they tell him to go
but he´s still here
though he won´t play his guitar..

i

i sat in a field outside ******
and watched the scandanavians
while they doused themselves in
the ice cold stream..

and then about four or five deer
came by and drank from the
afore mentioned..
it was fun one eye on the sky

where the the sun hid shyly..
a steep climb up to the road
before the farmer came..
there was a dolphin..

ii

i sat by a cannon
and examining the surf
in another town
i think a siren was near-

for from the little waves
appeared a dolphin
it did nt stay..
before troy it was gone..

lily says cheers i
see a lot of cameras!
(or telephones
aka..)
when the gentleman
hid from the lens
how were we amused..
fearing for his mortal soul..!?

and yet so entranced by the past
and this moment-did he glimse
a future..?where we mirrored some
warped image..some shcizophrenic
and paranoid laugh..

i mean taken as a whole with all
the technology..
some distopian vision
of hell-robots with smiles
love hearts and a selfie..