i

what are you up to speakman
or what are you speakman
as my teachers might say..
then

the wart on their nose
that will never go away
oh i know you hypocrits
we look the other way..

pacif
agressive
as the happy catkin
sway
the lith blossom
in the breeze..

i


perhaps you can write a song
about me
all is vanity
!?

i donate the proceeds
to charity
lol

pride comes
before
a fall

you have to know
how to
fall

drunks and babes
know how to
fall

i never knew far to
fall
some

did not pay
my guitar
was stolen..

a woman ran away
a hole in my shoe
..a nut loosen

iii


silence
i preferred
above all
else

i thought
words
superflous
a curse

want to be
emotions
best kept
private

better
be silent
and feel
like a wheel

like the
universe
or beautiful
verses

wild flowers
seagulls
bees
a breeze

hindu kush
hushed
smoke bush
peace..

31 is a strange time
i lived in my old van
in a big tulips world
the winter´s cold

and the distant clock
cried the pain of man..
i drove my small polish
tractor..in the summer

by the water and dream
it was a blast an scourge..
i well short on word
look askance to what

seemed..sat in the kitchen
with a hot head
and paint
waited for you to visit..

i am lucky
i can see
or i can´ t..

is it new
like jamais vu
or deja vu..

old and beauty
the sun and moon
my room..

innocence and wisdom
love of you
true..

i am grand
i kiss the land
adoration..

i see my door
i can´ t see my door
for

i am old
i am new
golly, the rain

comes down
from my heart
to the ground..

threeminute poem
none of my doing
no sir,just a gadding around
not even

what me
no sir
serious now
why
ah why not
gaolor two to die

in this monsterous
circumstance
smile
dyiing
clap hands noow!

one more minute
love is sweet innit
good bye
be never to see
her eyes of gray..
so..

be a poet or not
do or delete
amount
the same
a hill of beans

plus
or subtract
abstract
a drop in

the ocean
to hung
purple
naked

from
a nearby
pole
dark as a coal

by the moon
upside
down
or a nice

cup of tea
not really
much difference
older one is

ii

why sail it into
an iceburg..
leonardo would
never be allowed
into first class
that kind of spoilt
it..
love may transcend
the class barrier
but not a skanky irish
artist..
still,kate was game..

iii

love will transcend
anything
this is patiently
obvious..

excuse me
this rather bland
observation
and a rather

bad..
i am smashed
excuse me
go at the irish..

gosh.
when it comes
to that..
yes
love will transcend..!

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..

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..

haloween
we never celebrated
haloween
though day today
existing..

haloween
the monsters and
what
in the world..

or from a dark
middle
on the edge
haloween

not defect
show me your
rabbit..
a rat..

a boy in a mask
meets without
skull shining
haloween!

listening
trick a treat
with glowing
knowing
thin..

haloween
where there may
have been
there was none

it is
haloween
no real
feeling..

what given to
that singular
expression
empathy..

more of a crazed
rapture
what a saliva
dribbling

haloween
i do like tapping
he said..
and rabbits..

dracula
fire
marshmellows
no pumpkins

carved into
cackles
the walk
we never cared

for haloween
day off
no
business as

normal..

why everything is underlined
in blood red
(ask god ..)

go head
imbibe wine
look for truth

(soon be dead)
look for love
and sing:

we will live on!
in the way of believing
in water and stone..

go break bread!
(in the ways between
death and living..)

look around
take it in
around and around..

you like to mess
with my mind
?
with swirls
of light and dark?

love´s distress..
(this delicate pearl)
what you find
?

well for yous
a stark
tight
circle!!

call love!
will make ye
mental
and happy too!!

is the mirror a
soul?
look over my
shoulder
my beauty
all is known..

i see your face
on christmas morn
paul..
your first guitar!
joy to man!
the bell´s ring-
ding-****..!

thoughts ranged far and far
what comes into one´ s head
salt to a message from god
a happy and a sad star..

i was once myself at war
with myself but i read
brothers,it was a heavy load
four litres of red was par..

i became an actor
i examined the thread
in the wings cold dread
sisters,there..

lines i could not remember
and some that i did
i flipped my lid
what why and where..

and the repetion over
and over my brain bled
i said i said
that or thought more..

so i played my guitar
and never repeated
that was neat
that was linear

hour after hour
so i was a hermit
candle lit
dry core..oh yeah..

i said to myself again and again
i will never drink again..never..
not now..but until then..
i will have a good time..!

dutch bob would say
alcohol is sneaky
(had i been a bottle of
beer i would have felt guilty..)

he would throw back his
great viking head and sing
tom dooley..early morns-
cognac beer and backgammon..

once our auntie mable spake unto me
they, unbeknownest, would hang me and then
she so riddled as to the whys and when
as faith, chaff me not,and i will tell thee
child,tis but a sin,to ask,verily..
for i was only a boy.. nine or ten
or so in truth for i have forgotten
but that which remains in my memory
why..and transfixed by ruby drops of wine
that cascaded from off  her lily white chin
as she drank and ****** in lost residues
as the last **** and the barman calls time
as it seems that such loss has turned to wine
in vino there is love and veritas..

i wish i were antonio o!
winding the hills so
into and out quilted to
the excited children know

the distant three wheel echo
of imagination -blue and yello
pop ups and quietly through
the sun rising finger drew

across a blinding line anew
a love to page them do
and don´t..lo!
antonio!

in his biblio!
run promises blow
like a wizard´s brew
come all to know..!

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)

my first girlfriend´s name was jennifer
(jenny wren the headmaster called her..)

every day (as packed by my mother)
i gave her a packet of crisps (salt and vinegar...)

at luncheon eternal love she swore..
her sweet kisses mine for ever..!

huddled diminutive together-
a pair of chip crossed lovers..!

ii)

ah!days of golden wonder:
a halcyon time to share..

then,perhaps due to human error
once,did the fates conspire..

where..?not here..sandwiches..a pear,
she was away and nose in the air-

off with roger the goal-keeper..
my heart crumbs on the floor..

iii)

at home i told my mother and father
he rustled his newspaper

mum said it was cupboard love or whatever,
i regarded the cupboard long and longer..

the dog wagged his tail by the door
the cat on the chair..

what was the answer..
not to care..?

i liked jennifer..
i would consider...


a pair of star crossed lovers-romeo and juliet-shak..

it is a hot day in august
the many many tourist
they are a many seething
colors..

they go and sit by the first
sea
in the quiet
they are a humming hush
of technology..

some of the cafe
every skin
down to and by
the peaceful water´s

edge..
let the brilliant day
perform
it´s moment..

thirst
and famine
are pledged..
a ball too and fro..

lunch comes and
goes..
dozing in the shade
the afternoon is a long

dream..
broken only
by the spell
of hypnotic surf..

the child tumbles
and is set too
the predominant
setting is through..

it all just seems
quiet is ablaze..
a gull..
people huddle in

shrinking shade..
lover´s cuddle
in the waves..
these are the happy

days..
there
the sun
sinks..

and comes the
jasmine night.
the stars of light..
bewitch..

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

to be a clown
was once a little
boy´s dream-

to fall down
and then rise
with love..

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 loved buk* from the get-go
thank you lizzie from norway
do not lose them *******
you would say..

notes of a ***** old man
and factotem-
i remember them..
through him i liked poetry..

some may say adolescent
but he made so love..
and in post office
when an alsation

smells his ****,
we are all transported
to heaven..!
he threatened his audience..

who the hell is tom jones..

ii

well,lizzie, i lost them..
and losing borrowed books
were we in hell..
i lent them to some one who

swore the same..i hear your laugh!
he had a head on in the dark
he broke his leg and his friend
broke his arm..

the books were gone..
stupid **** you would say
i recall you big honest grin..
you said you liked me..

because i never turned down
a drink..
if this was irony
it was lost on me..lol..

so the books picked up
by some one passing
and loved and cherished
just like i do  you now..

changing lives and growing love..
i thought about you..
when they carried each other
past to the bathroom..

just drunk and fine!
while we looked on
thanks for lending me
them...

iii

lily say something
she is busy reading
the rats by james herbert..

a late sixties horror classic
every one gets it..
the rat is so deep in our pscyche
these one´s are wise

too..dog size..packs..
they have the taste
for human flesh..
it is early days..

it is a secret
a scratch causes
death
within 24 hours..

it is herberts way
this is a real period piece
a simple style
we had a national health

system..last remnents
of a great empire..
a working class
rats..are..eating..people...

in amongst our order
be it puppy baby
school boy
mary..

they are slashing and
pulling cheeks away..
i do skip bits..where

is the wine..

astrix

charles bukowski..

ii


lily the cynical
that explain´s all
nothing explains all..

some brick wall
silence a wail
an ill..

an empty fill
better will
for a while..

a quiet chill
a church aisle
a full sail..

seagulls
tell
wildflowers
bell..

a swallow´s tail
dales
hail

ail..
ai
a

small rainbow of
my heart
time will repay
a sad start

but a happy
terminate or
blinding shade
in colours..

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..

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 never dished it out and i refuse
to take it in
i held myself in a kind of cosmic
equilibrium

accepting the vague random love
as surely
as my glass of milk
and twix at four

fate being the difference
between
the sky blood and free
a lone apple core

wandered with some
habit
nothing noting
not no

being all in
complete
and yet
so

giving and taking
apart
pivoting
and started

like some barn
station to
flexible
or rigid so

thus receiving
and giving
but at a safe
distance..

i


lily with nothing
i take her and enfold
she slides down
and nestles so

a purring kitten
shy and bold
space blown
to everything

a nodding
seed sown
from end
to germinate

from floated
distant spoor
to knocking
death´ s door

off distance
to near
wild core
and here..

ii

i


(foretell or predict
and issue edict..)
an eagles flight
a witch´s *****

a pigeon´ s eye
circle´ s wise
a lost sigh
by and by

bye and bye
my lovely..

ii

o dark wit
foul it
hate t
i

frogs left
nut
cut
rain blood

stir and high
a swine´ s cry
lord of flies..!
up dark wiles

raise and heft
from cold flame
come forth
grace of evil

thy will
be done
forever
and on..

iii

left and about
tight to reversed
death and birth
to up and earth..

before master
white appear
red here
near and

nearer..
great fire
from sand
to blood..

dust of bat
curse at
fear
hear..!?!

howling and
wild
o bile
comes sister

comes brother
call ruler
of
all..!

i´m awakening
even now
say today

scarlatti
beauty!
pray..

tommy is
bad
the red
****** up

he rubs
ahind
a hot fish
even spell

pup
cup
in
wicked
wick

well
hell
fell
love

out upon
the spike
like
gone

she go
she went
another
town

another
cosmos
friday
o grog..

ii

remember
time fodder
as i get older

i recall more
a closed door
pretty fur

lily lou lover
given more
love store

but not
some hot
some colder..

love is war
the art of war
machines..

circles ..

the friday before the whole fried
salt and desultory shake hand..
the news man intimated
words like latest and limited

exchange and we all will be informed
sold the last language..he cried..
there were our leaders grim face
there was the sky sea and land..

there,  the missiles casual arced..
the world quite another place..!
no more fish or dow index..
no more no next..

on friday last we stayed indoors
no more music at our behest
the dance so many deaths
waiting by the walls..

we avoided birds and eyes
and broke the silence with
a silence..
the flies caught in honey..

the world turned to see
all the toys lay
not much to be
not much at all..

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..

my grandfather
a liverpudlian
bus driver sat of an
ev´en in the kitchen and
vehemently demanded
right of way
before god and man..

(or so it is recorded..)

i recall him being smaller-
a darkness before a mirror
putting lard on his hair-
a prerequisite to exhausted sleep
in his favorite armchair..
we,his family would gather..

(round..)

grandfather duly revisited his day
he bucked and contorted..
a scissored hand a pedestrian..
his slippered feet sort break and clutch
but performed a little known dance instead..
with an all change he´d swung into position:
babe in arms
halfpastthree
sidewinder..
onetime he slept with his knees on the floor
and his head under the cover..
auntie mable was nearly ill with suppressed laughter..

children,can of course be fearful moralists...
tired of the humiliation i released a guffaw..
that was the kind of little boy i was..
priggish but thought an idiot..
the adults groaned..
grandfather opened a beautiful pale blue eye..

later,in the garden
in the day light
he said he and i could
be great friends...

i survived myself because of myself
a mix of the diabolically clever
and ridiculously slow
perched on some far away shelf
happy as a ******
with little to do..

the sky perfectly reflected me
and in my turn i adorned it
with various unspoken woe
i was four for three
the devil´s wit
nothing did know..

i said i know i
with instinct
through
age old way
look into this
sad heart
genius or idiot
o wise mirror
are we not lost
as urchin..