i

the last bugle-
be mean
be cruel
(i will remain true

to the jungle..)
and fade to white..
-i will be happy
with-out you..

o lie!
(o self-deception..)
o lack a day!
(for we must pay..)

ii

i curse the day we met!?
i was just pht-
a vortex of purple
turmoil

with a severed head
looking down at me
(i thought be cool..)
said er, you have fire..?

i thought of a legend
of medusa
there was sea and
a star

that was black-
and then i was in
a bath
we laughed

in the beginning
and then i was disscussing
morality and politcs
with a cat-poe-ah yes..

i recall it well..

when i was young i wanted to change the world
now i just want to change my underwear
(with something like a smile..)

when i was young, i thought we should share..
now, i want to die with-out fear-
some distant sun uncurl..

when i was young i wanted to play my guitar
now i am old i want to play my guitar
i sure will miss playing my guitar..

every line is a matter
of what is not there-
when your mouse sticks
and coin imprints itself
upon your elbow and you
can´t type for doo-doo..

i woke with a poem
in my head and the line
take the colour blue or
eg..was what was missing-
and the universe featured
but more than that
a case of not here..

poems from the basement:
no day for misogynistic sentiment
if you know a false god
you know it

regardless of ***-(there are divers
way out of the getto..)
i am not a judge..
there is a slow death..

with the silk upon my head
from god..
beautiful women..
o..

ii

well thats a cop-out
lily says ******* a brush-
well what i meant to say
was

you just can´t trust em..
well is nt that a problem of
your own making-
you mean a bloated ego

a trophy of falsity and
a ****** up society
that judges are skin deep
and money etc..?

i

i put on a set of strings on
my birthday-very fiddley
my guitar is kind of part  of me
i know a cliche but everyday

i love and carress her-she is named
paloma-not the kind of task
that is to be attempted-****** or
drunk..

really it is a mine-field..but if
you want a litany of complaint
look no further..
her pure wing..ruffle-she is old..

my dove..battered and broke
my little bird o
golden sun
another year..

ii

strings have deteriated
perhaps not in quality
but in presentation..

i berate the seemingly
loss of pride
and one is a little short

every generation..
is bought and sold
i deal with it..

i

lily, where have you been?
like any good bohemian
i went in the direction-one

that dictates singular freedom
and two a structual discipline-
i said when i was young

i wanted for nothing
because i wanted nothing..
here was my wisdom

ii

facts and fiction-
can make a  combination
of interest, then..

and love, hope and wild
speculation,
say, when..?

just say none..
all kinds of beauty,non?
different ways of living..

iii

yes,how..
so,you have been doing
nothing..

yes,but as the lord buddha
sayss-
to do nothing is to do

iv

everything..
i wrote a poem:
when i was young-

so did i?
do you want to hear mine?
-god-go on..

v

when i was young
i travelled in an old van
living by the trout stream

and playing the penny whistle
in the town-
a tour de france

(very pretty!)
there were modern libraries
and old museums

no one bothered me
lots of markets
and the secours de catholic..

vi

(best to keep an open mind..)

vii

let´s hear yours?!

viii

something spontaneous-
sitting in the garden
i say pardon

cause the power tools
and airplanes
and no 32..

so much noise
i hear not the butterfly
or bee..

where is peace of mind
i say o god-
it is in me...!

now, i like to think i am
more sensible
(44 years have not been
in vain)

perhaps,a tad more cynical-
but not many,
stay the same-
though, there are those

who´s ethos and character
from conception to expiration
changed not one iota..
i do envy them..

ii

i thought,if you can´t
change your mind
then,what is it for..

i was in the captain´s shoes
looking in a new portal
through an open door..

with out trust
we wander the cusp
neither full or empty
the collective cup

neither,down or
up-
no or yup..
pups without love..

i

saturday,hap,off to
the doctor-to err is human
to forgive divine!

pope was one of my
favourites
when i was young

inspiration from a man
so afflicted
a brave soul..!

ii

a life of the daffodil
and the cold tap-
now where´s your lead?

i chewed f out of it
o look what have you done?!
i was bored..

iii

scene three-grumpy´s boots
on the couch
well,doctor, i am old and

feel nothing or angry for
no reason
i fear dying..

poems from the basement*
to wake and find a stranger
standing over one-in one´s room

is an awful, awful, thing-
what is that?
that is the pirate´s cat..

see the emerald eye?!
pleading for clemency
but the magistrate´s doom-

foreshadow-a black satin
placed on the crown
i roared..

i

lily says i don´t like
you because-
you re cheap
and greedy
ugly lazy and
duplicitous-

(i am only human after all-)

deceitful
hurtful
hypocritical-

(she can´t find her grass)

a pointless waste of space
a disgrace
an abomination
and just no fun..

i hate your shoes
and the way you stand
helpless
your pathetic pauses-

(...)

the way you look and breath
i curse your birth
yon dearth!
your shirt..?

(i got this at the boot sale
for a pound)

i loathe your very existance-
ah! here it is!
now, where are the papers..?

ii

i like you because.
(not sure really)
but i love you..

and that is far
far
worse..