i have been writing on
hello poetry for some time
but still no idea of the meaning
of trending..
but

when we were young
we might say he or she
were trendy..
and that would mean they
set the fashion-eg

on the front of a magazine..
but i don´t ask questions
because by all the gods
and this and that-curiosity
will **** the cat and
no apology for the cliche..

i have a hole in my
shoe
for you
stars are new

mostly, i reflect your
hue
life celebrates it-!
what a to do..!

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 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..

i

i have forgot lily,
her eyes flashed
ravens alight
capture a vision..
in her wakening,
where i hid our
grass last night..
***** *** ****
beauty of
the first light
love thirsts
see her pale
pale skin
her black eye
dawn
the milkman
a sparrow
a horn..
dew..

ii

where o could it be?
wreck the place
mother-f..
she sleeps..
i watch her
her timeless beauty

iii

she is-
little sparrow
brave warrior
first kiss-
snoring, so i go
looksy..!

iv

how to begin
i am not comfortable
with such emotion
amazing how quickly
one goes from
rational human to mad thing
i think i bet she got
it..
this is how it goes..
over the years
hiding holes like love have grown
begin with the walls
o bring them down somewhere obvious
i will return
and she will be burning what pain-
down the couch
or new place
a reconstruction of
the night before
science
or blind anger
which spirals
purple faced
into hopeless tears
and wander
down the bar...

v

no quarter
said the warrior
a pint of lager
i love her

though it is
war
long periods
of boring

by mad action
dividing fractions
well,that was years
before..

how time goes
sweet armistice
(the left is
not what it was..)

but i am
happier
(could nt get no
******* sadder..)

on the positive
i turned out
to be a wizard
sometimes..

it is a case
of where to look
magic could be youtube
or books

writing and
colours
and a little
pointy hat

rats
lol
alakazam!
secret words..

vi

meanwhile
lily awakens-
the kraken
rises

from icy depth
smokes the last
of the grass and
she is herself

she is bit
paint a bit
red bit
red white black

yellow
in a mondrian
o
back to bed

soul mining
cohen
red wine
cosy..

vii

home comes thee
wizard..!?
of dark aspect
respect needed

happy but...
first a further
search
searcher!

secret powers
are on
pagan
hand

the body has
a memory
(he can not bear
the cooker

it is white
and sinister)
to gather the lost
we must dream

lily sings-
what you doing
my man,
looking for something..

(like a dream
a poem within
a poem)
when my heart

is full of love
all for you
my merlin
right here

now o!
a cry yonder
i found a bit of red-leb
from years before

the morning
a dove in flight
our pantheistic
pair

in arm and arm
fair in fair
what you been doing
painting..

ii

if i was not so selfish
and greedy
things would be different

i would not be lonely
life might be full
and death dull..

i-i

i sometimes wonder what
we would do without conformity
or diversity..

take a fizzy drink
we will call horse´s ****-if
we did n´t all want it

then, it would not be..
same with love and belief..
caw!..lily pauses...

ii

some of you are probably
wondering what is she-
a notated anarchist..

revolutionary poet doing
opening a supermarket?
i need the money..lol..

but the way to change
is from with-in-and everyone
must eat-

iii

i do wonder what tennyson
would have made of it all
our consumer society..

there is something comforting
there is order
what is yours is yours

what is mine is mine
how else can it be
render unto caeser..

iv

in times of yore
nomadic man roamed here and
there..

(now we have asda
progress-can´t stop-)
we fought or effed and

then built a fence and
posession hopped
into our hearts like

an endless summer
and here we are..
of the future..

v

to conform or
grow your hair and
don flairs

a dab of patchouli
behind the ear
a flower in the hair-

am i me lsd
love an alien
have a nice time or

vi

the snack aisle..
the diverse
where i see

vision of the wild
the grass
a dying tree..

vii

at this moment i
stand with scissors
and see your expectant faces-

life is pure profit
or a bargain basement
or short changed

or hauled before the
man to beg and beseech
innocence..

not a word i use lightly
i leave you with this
supermarket..

viii

ginsburg followed walt
around-as he eyed
the pretty boys-

lonely old grubber!
and indeed who has
not fallen head over

trolly wheels-we met by
the meat counter..
romantic tales..

two way mirrors
surveillance and
*****..

look-30 percent off
a machine and well
kept bathrooms..

ii))

transference is us?!
and living by denial
i remember breakfast
by the nile

i was only seventeen..
it was nice
though  not very well
so beautiful..

iii

i am thinking intermediate
lily something with black thorns
but marks and sparks..

blood in the walk-naomi
dear don´t fidget so-
todd you are late..

iii

(*** says lily..)
prompts a small cloud to cover
the sun

a shadow or frown
to juxtapose (el mariposa?!)
-what do you think it makes of us?

it doesn´t seem bothered..
would we trade places
i think it would stay as it is..

iv

when young
i was cursed by
fish

ants and the breeze
(or was it only my
paranoia)

my fortune
i did n´t care
as for fame

v

a lady asked me
if i was me
(i thought i

better be..)
she said santiago has
a nice hospitable

(ryan air)..
she took me to
her hotel
an old monastery

i have the key
accidently
it rained..

i know,
they are waiting for me
to die..

patience, lily,
(she has a touch of
the paranoias..)

life passes in the
twinkling of an
eye..

trust in that..love
and ask not why
beauty and

acceptance
sure
10=10..!

ii

postumous is for
the possums
um-

when she dies
her work will be
wisdom-

beyond silver and
gold..
words like timeless

will be bandied
stories told
some of us

begin at the end
the very last
or penultimate

grain
to fall
..

iii

meanwhile life
is hard
a mean card

you hear the one
about the broken heart
and the

lost dirge-
eternal love sworn
some tooting words

fitted up like a acorn
some hallow accord
just to pass the hours

and then the dawns
sacrifcede
i thought different

but the truth at last
some grass
soon be dead

and then no more
cheating
and names

no more giraffes
that laugh and
wait

no more silly ways
10 will indeed equal 10
once again..

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..

i met a man of the circus
you could here it
his fathers-
clowns and light-


magic and applause..
he said won´t you play-
his handle-bars!?
(am i a charity..)

listen-la´s-give it away
for love or if you have to eat
and god bless the fray..
once, i knew an honest

man..say,

ii

lily,you would think,
strange, had lost it´s
currency

in this day and age..
-language is meaningless
soon,we will just babble..

on screens
scream and howl
like camera caged

owls-our feathers
terminally ruffled
of  outrage..

iii

(sounds familliar..)
it is not the one´s
with purple hair

but  hearts pierced
with nothing
to look out for-

they care for nada
(not even money)
and certainy not

for the stars
they really don´t want it
or just a reasonable part..

in days of yore
they swore
a witch would metamorphosis
into hedgehogs-
that crept about stealing
and spying
beady black eyed and
prickly-
you snigger, lily?

o absurd!
absurd is the word
man was god and nature
was cursed-
(the simple blackbird
the familiar to nefarious
end..

but there is a bird
that has followed
and will not quit
what it wants-)
and left-handed
cats,bats,rats-
all suspect..
third *******..

do you wonder, paul,
what beliefs
dear
will prove equally specious
in the future..?

an eloquent and interesting
question
-violence
ever solved anything-
that comes to mind
that the power of mind
is limiting..
natures cure limited
like wise the imagination
like wisdom
as love
love is not the answer..
peach cobbler..

now we welcome a local poetess
i hope she ll forgive the generic
distinction
can ´t be too careful in these pc
times-a local girl cometo read
and discuss her work and her take on
things in general-i will not say
literally but but lily..!welcome'!

lily-thankyou?!
i don t think it matters if
i am a man or woman-

so have you always been
interested in words and poetry?

no,i spoke my first word early
but it became a mantra in
which silence became music
music and silence became me
the universe is a note-b-flat maybe..

your earliest memory

strange **** about rats but also
a study by fernando sor
used as an introduction to
tales of the riverbank
stretching worms
squeezing **** in my diapers-an
artists relation to his/her **** is
very important..picking up dust-
normal rights of passage..

and you became interested in poetry-when?

when i was about fifty-

quite an hiatus-what made you
write-

i felt like a time had come
like when i stopped drinking
home..i finally had something to say
an end a beginning..

now some words from those who pay
don t go away!



in the studio today is lily-
and tombola at the legion
and a buffet-so why? poetry?

-why do we create
it is partly memory
or fate

we celebrate our existence
and question that
and this

hate or empathy
for purists style
or beauty

entertainment!
money!
only joking!-

and how do you begin..?

motion
like i chop an onion
that leads to something

to the pan
and spaces that fry
in-between-

i might get an idea
the computer
something bothering

or disturbing
or amusing
like a keyboard

felicitates
clarity
i am lefthanded

for example and
wicked connotations
ensue

but my hand
like a spider and all
the angels

on the side of right
something surreal
or real..

ok..quite a broad church
then..?

who do you admire?

that is a question-!?
i like de la mare
edward lear
leonard cohen
ian dury-

a musician?

yes-well-i could nt
write without music
and so brave
a man-

well that leads us on
to a tune gil scot heron and
angel dust..
be back soon..!

indecision and doubt
dogs of creation
what god felt
keeps us living-

pray we never find out..
love can be dissapointing
a bad card dealt
devastation..