i do like william blake
says lily
and sticks a spliff in
her mouth-

what would he make
of us?
put him in front of
a television

the cars and airoplane..
(he saw angels anyhow..)but
still killing each other
so no surprise there..

i


and he scampers off
with metaphor and that
about a home he never has

more is less- a birds nest-
o small and sad
trying not to be..

moss and warm
a little eye dreaming of
wild and calm..

..and what of the seventies?
she says-a time of innocence
surely one of the worst dressed

decades of all time but t-rex..
and bowie..******* was harmless
pedophiles and serial killers non-existant..

ii

you could go across-land to india
the bus left london once a week..
magic bus..and you could stay

for as long as you wanted..(in india)
a lot never made it past istanbul..
or afghanistan..

it arrived in new delhi three weeks
later..with the grace of god..
a lot of fun..

i woke this morning lily
amid scenes that were :
in a bar a man with an annoying
index finger and complaints
about the fare..

i went outside followed
by the troublesome digit
only to be confronted
by a curious scene:

a donkey had a fox by
the scruff of the neck
and a large animal could
have been a moose..

seized the donkey and then
thankfully, i woke up..
what do you think it means?
she says most dreams mean nothing

ii

but with out them-we go
insane..it was confusing
but induced well-being..

or perhaps there are deep
freudian connotations
lost in some detail..

iii

we sit in the garden
dreaming
insects are beaming

like aliens-the colours
are  the first time
we close our eyes..

from the oven, aromas,
sweet as wine
spaced like bill and ben

we sing along to van..
pickled by the sun
over our land

old and loved
albion..shining down
the birds sing..

iv

and what do they sing?
they sing it is all
written-

they know..us..
past and future..
small gods..

i remember pushkar!
our balcony overlooked
the sacred lake and carp raised from
the sky seeming to smile
could n´t beleive it..

then we went on a camel trek!
3 days in the desert-roxy on
the head phones .. buzzards
on high..how fine it all was..!
we had our dinner round the fire
and slept beneath the stars..ahhh..

some will walk 2000 miles
to stand in your way
and say,what..?

that is so typical of you
i write a poem and i am now
blank as i don´t know..

it does nt even sound like me..
you were angry
i was angry-i don´t know

why..there were negative forces
at work-you know what i mean..
i liked you..

how hard is life
how hard is death
o thin as a leaf

how long before
you regarded me, miriam
and said,

what i wanted to be?
(i wanted to be more ******-
stop bugging me..)

i wanted to be a muscian..
you were an actor or are
a star!

you look much happier!
(this makes me happy)
i did n´t know what to say..

i felt so empty
i felt no future
it will be ok..

i never thought of that
but it´s been no pick-nick
but neither would i want it..

i have learned to talk
mainly through books and music
and the odd thought

and i stopped drinking..
just like anyone
it is ok..

hello, bill, are you there?
yes,very nice..read another one?
ok..this is called:was gary glitter
surprised when the police showed..

as my father would like to say all
power corrupts but total power
corrupts totally..(as anyone arriving

at his counter one minute past
the  hour would know..)yes, money
power and *** ammount to the same
on one foot in the desert and pray..

well,not really dying but
the deterioration of body
and mind..

i feel i should have some
say in the matter-you know
enough is enough..

i thought i might rent an
allotment if such socialist concepts
still exist..land..

we live and die on the land
god´s not making any more
so i´ll put my name down now..

lily,you see the original glastonbury
ticket was a pound now
it´s nearly 400..

and they can´t pay the artists..
hey,my heart is free
yours,till the cows come home..

c..

dear crow-
honey lasts and love
so-if your brains have fallen
out your snout and how.

l

right, thank you little bird
here is a song-police and thieves
a prophetic little ditty
of guns-homogenous as leafs

from the same tree-i recall joe
strummer looking at me..
it was a long curious look
i looked back..

and mott the hop will take
us to the news..
hey, steve what do you say..
so joe..

he looked at me like i  knew
i knew enough not to..
a long time ago-give them enough rope..
and hitching home from the corn-exchange..

ii

do people still hitch-hike, steve?
i don´t know..why not..
i will ask..

it is a dodgy business
who was more frightening me
or them..

i

   you touch on the duality
of laughter and tears-even
when you laugh the sadness
does not leave your eyes..

she says, she does not write
pointless-in you there is
hurt that will never be ex-
tinguished..

like a child they were one
but for you nothing..
you will fish
the last thought of dying..

ii

sorry i spoke
sorry i breathed
sorry for sorry..

funny word
repeat it
what you got..

ask me who i have talked to
lately lily preens her self
who-why should i tell you..

information is power-you see
the price of a hamburger at glastonbury-
16 pounds..

for tea i had a bowl of pasta and
sauce for a euro..i feel old crow-
then,we watched *******..

i)

she wakes and says eeyore
has lost his tail though blissfully
unaware

she has a cornflake stuck to her
cheek above her  lip
which of course is libertine-

though blissfully unaware
clever rabbit is unaware and scholarly
owl too..

so they look and pooh calls
at owl´s house and pulling the bell-rope
thinks he´s seen it some-place before..?

owl says he found it over a bush
and through and after endless conjecture
it´s current use..

pooh sees what it is-an empty mind
is valuable for finding pearls and tails
a clear mind hears the birds singing..

so, pooh returns the tail to eeyore
and he feels much better..
(there he is pictured doing a handstand..)

ii

tao a philosophy which became
a religion..music is the space between
the notes..

said debussy-a man who knows
living in harmony with nature
a simple cure..

someone lost a feather
how many beans make five
or

the beginning of eternity
the end of time or space
the beginning of every end
and the end of every place..

the answer lily
is e-
now we have the string
theory

we would say:
how long is a piece of
string
(which is probably

nearer the truth)
if your an eagle
(or a sparrow)
then be..

read a poem
i got another one:
mirror

i am silver and exact.i have no preconceptions.
whatever i see i swallow immediately
just as it is,unmisted by love or dislike.
i am not cruel only truthful-
the eye of a little god,four-cornered.
most of the time i meditate on the opposite wall.
it is pink, with speckles.i have looked at it so long
i think it is part of my heart.but it flickers.
faces and darkness separate us over and over.

now i am a lake.a woman bends over me,
searching my reaches for what she really is.
then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
i see her back and reflect it faithfully.
she rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
i am important to her.she comes and goes.
each morning it is her face that replaces darkness.
in me she has drowned a young girl,and in me an old
woman
rises toward her day after day,like a terrible fish.

by
      sylvia plath

(boredom
the moment in anticipation
or unawareness..)

as the poet lu yu wrote:
the clouds above join and separate
the breeze in the courtyard leaves and returns
life is like that,so why not relax
who can keep us from celebrating?

i

hitting on last night´s wine
the book falls from her hand
what is she reading?

she says,the more it snows,
it goes on,
the more it goes on snowing..

her head like a magic wand
sleeps on the table..
her knuckles scrape the lino..

ii

carrying on the theme of accumulation
positive begets positive
when roo swims in the dangerous whirlpool

to save a life-
eeyore dips his tail but too late-!
pooh, finds a stick (because it was there)

thoughtless action it´s reward..
a cake and a *** of honey
the donkey hestitates..

i

and what of the sixties lily
much of it dated?she says only
a small minority swung and the rest-
les miserables..

ii

i recall my father-rest in peace-
watching the evening news as the
mods and rockers fought it out on
brighton beach..

although a gentle man,he was a great
one for hitting people with sticks-
shouting at the television-birch them!
the silver birch one of my favourites..

i never bothered with alcoholics
anonomous-no doubt a fine body
but listening to other´s problems

was  too depressing
no doubt there could be solace
but i thought i got into this mess alone

and i would get out of it alone
no doubt they had habits that i
could share say-group therapy

no doubt,ended in a big arguement
and increased the pressure
the problem was of course, boredom-

ii

boredom
when we were young
and when we are old

bored to sobs
man´s concentration so-
eqivalent to some of the more

advanced insects..the difference
is ******
i was bored

boredom is a tunnel we must
travail
when we were young  

they said machine
now,they say green
or telephone..

have we become too much
too much time
too much mind

an iron glove
a soft touch
the hieroglyphic sign

plain
pain
insane..

iii

lily, i have believed in balance
and acted accordingly or tried to
the stars above-the stars below..

so to the silence
my heart on the wing
your birdy song-

crow..

lily ***** up-your face
i want money to waste
howl at the dogs, go!
called tomorrow..

all the days
flittered away
i will buy that though
i don´t want it
call it tomorrow..

yeah..what is now
i don´t know-yesterday was
poo-could n´t give it away
i want money
call tomorrow..

what for-big house
new car cruise-
nothing to lose
plenty to lose o
you and i we know..

lily does her yoga
dictates a letter:
thankyou for the poems

by ms. plath had to laugh-
age and insanity..!?
(in her itzy-bitzy-polka-dot-

bikini..)she goes into the
laughing monkey..take down this poem
mj-

once your in their mind
then,one burrows-
like a small animal

with red eyes and fearful tail!
no limits, scream the signs..
it is with siege mentality-

to break down and
into the hysterical!
because once inside?(the middle)

the pain IS the brain
one takes a suitable stance
and stays..

ii

read it back mj..after we spent
a long night on the beach
the sun was a rose

and we climbed a hill
that was red and hot
with little or no shade

barefoot and sore..
we made a cafe after three hours
and it was only us..

from her purse..
she said i have this
it was a bud of kerela

i said,pourquoi pas
she said how do you feel
she said she was too high

and i agreed
so we went for a swim
then we walked in the heat to

our little house and laid in
the cool.
and fell asleep..

lily chats with the cracked
actors-is your life finding out
who you are?

from abused urchin to glittering
star..there are so many..and as for
the wars..

the stories..we would **** ourselves
but we are worried the silver screen
broken on the wheel..

atmosphere
i burned my ******* finger
did nt look any better
on paper..
but no crow,
you´re not getting any money..

a dim epicurean
fat and lazy..
(you will only want more)
no longer my window but
a closed door-
a vista innocent but a blank cheque..
not hope but to let..

yes,you will soon cease to be real
you won´t know how you feel
hello,my name is crow..
a nameless jackdaw
with plenty but no soul
25 and old..
i was once a diamond..

we love the moon
because..it is non-committal
and detatched from the affairs

of man..we try to drag it in
with poetry and science
but it remains..

aloof and laughing..fearful
that someone somewhere understands
or hollow..

ii

we  love the moon because..
it reminds us of when we were small
and we wanted a biscuit as big as..

but have never compromised
though the smile has got madder
essentially we remained..

iii

we love the moon because..
we don´t..this is a myth
we fear it..

it is paranoid-a mad wife
with a great white carving knife
held to the throat..

iv

we love the moon because
she is high priestess witness
to our love and suffering

and if she seems to laugh
o they are great tears
and we may join in..

v

we love the moon because..
we love the moon
because..

we love..
i mean **** it all
love and the moon..synonomous..

she scratches an itch
and says man must have chaos with-
in
to give birth to a dancing star-
(thursday is a day for nietzsche..)

creation is the residue of war
between passion and reason
so you can call names and point

a finger or create a masterpiece
all depending..someone at the door..!
disembodied voices:

god is in your heart
technology and nuclear war..
keep your family safe..

lily counters with did you know
a shark has the same intelligence
as a rabbit-why..?

what to say-she invites them
for a cup of tea but they are
to press on..

she returns with man petting
lions and another poem from crow
called tomorrow..

i don´t feel age-
i feel younger now
than when i was 21
there´s nothing like talking
******* when it comes to time..
they wonder if there is such a thing-
no time no space and so on..no waste of
money..no birthdays..or cake..

but i am miffed when they split
a second into tiny bits..i think we
were happier before-sunrise-sunset..
if we die in a second..when we were old
by forty..ding-****-****-crow..
o lord the stamping of the clock-card..

glastonbury seems an eternity
some old comment or timex
with a little nodding head of minnie-mouse
with a leather strap that left a mark on
my heart-that went where ever they went
somewhere..

exactly-crow as we know
has to eat and lily is rather
chilly..read on..!

(brrr-bbrrr-telephone..)
the tape playing-hello
i am not in but read me

a poem..it´s me-i got this one
at the bootsale for 50 cents
selected poems by sylvia plath..

mrs drake proceeds to supper

no novice
in those elaborate rituals
which allay the malice
of knotted table and crooked chair
the new woman in the ward
wears purple,steps carefully
among her secret combination of egg shells
and breakable humming birds
footing sallow as a mouse
between the cabbage-roses
which are slowly opening their furred petals
to devour and drag her down
into the carpet´s design.

with bird-quick eye cocked askew
she can see in the nick of time
how perrilous needles grain the floorboard
and outwit the brambled plan
now through her ambushed air
adazzle and broad shards
of broken glass,
she edges with wary breath.
feeding off jag and tooth
until turning sideways,
she lifts one webbed foot after another
into the still,sultry weather
of the patients´dining room.

nice one-i am sell my possessions
at the next flea market
due to starvation..
see you soon..

ii

hello crow no reply
since time mormorial
the world has considered

the artist starving-since vinny
chopped his ear and no doubt previously
which is it hunger or beauty?

while the fat little bourgeois sits
in his shop and gets off free..
myth:anyone can work in a factory..

but good luck and don´t be greedy..
but be lucky little birdy
l..

what have you got for us today
i thought i´d do a chatty thing
get them to call in
with opinion and request..

you have shaved your head..
is that some kind of joan of arc?
no, i was ******
looks nice..

well,bon chance-here cate
is this tea magic
you bet..
try not to say ****..321..

hitting on last nights wine
she puts her book down
what is she reading?

the tao of pooh-(an eighties
christmas-stocking-filler-
do you remember..)

the way, according to pooh bear..
tigger and eeyore
owl, piglet etc..

she says,
one disease long life
no disease short life-

ancient chinese medicinal saying
those who recognise their limitation
better off..

for example,
when the storm blew and a tree
branch trapped them in owls house

it was piglet who climbed through the
letter box and saved the day..
use what you´ve got..

ii

the trouble with tigger is he thinks
he knows everything but he is a
bouncing half wit-

someone at the door-
owl is the scientist who knows nothing
and pooh is charming..

she has a letter
who did nt love roo-?
and together they question

innocent questions
unanswerable and deeply philosophic
full of love and wonder..

-it´s from crow-have gone
out of order-we must have order
what does he say..

lily,did i ever say how i got into the biz?
i mean,what a job playing your favourite music!?
(though all this technology and electric
makes all the mind go odd with a fizz..)

but it became my sincerest wish
i tried management ,senior ****
y´know,some dodgy tricks
y´know,and too much whizz,

and then a roadie, ******..
then, there was my uncle nick
he says,work for me large-big
i goes,he owns the station like

and nepotism makes the world
go round and here i am in a word
yeah..a libertine and free bird..
here´s catherine with the tea..

ii

lily does her yoga
she drifts into the paranoid cloud
what do they want from me?

that´s what i don´t understand..
she puts the music up loud
you got me pretty deep,baby..

you need money i need money
man,can-not live by poetry alone
bbr-bbrr-the telephone-

not-in leave apoem..
poppies in july
another from sylvia

little poppies,little hell flames,
do you no harm

you flicker,i cannot touch you,
i put my hands among the flames.nothing burns

and it exhausts me to watch you
flickering like that,wrinkly and clear red,like the skin of a
                                                               ­                                    mouth

a mouth just bloodied.
little ****** skirts!

there are fumes i can-not touch
where are your opiates,your nauseous capsules?

if i could bleed or sleep!-
if my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

or your liquors seep to me,in this glass capsule
dulling and stilling.

but colourless.colourless.