lily, why not
a t shirt
heat was hot
an open heart
work would
donkey hut
time stopped..

dear to me
a treasured boot
wait..
white cut
blue eyed
the great truth
an old blanket
said stars about
my own route..

lily,young then!
youth when
a day eternal
a planet suite
how sea blue
how skies blue
how warm bread
nothing all and
not possible..

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

i got a new chair
a family affair
the other
broken like
a broken heart
on a may evening..

i felt like samson..
it is ten years since
she had cancer..
lily,wilful creature..
i stood ikea..!

ii

i do loathe poetry
until i am ******..
and then i fall in love
all alone..

lily,
and my pen
just flows..
and the next day
ten years gone bye!
flown a lost dove..ah..

iii

with all the rain
the agave fallen
****** puddles
in my room..
bird song
through the nights..

lost count of the tvs
now,we have 5 cats
i read adventure..
to abode beneath
southern climes..in

a somerset maugham yarn!
i have come to like sweeping..
and have nearly forgotten
the little bamboo constructions..
by the sea..

we have one of the noisiest
kettles ever invented by man
it is a real trojan..
or sleeping in the desert
or living in my van by a stream..

drunk and free..
so,i have that chair
a long time..
the new one even worse
but good for one´s posture..
wine was so cheap..
the stars so bright..
i read the russians..
we were bare assed and naked...

the beauty of crete
i was consumed with the
beauty of crete..
their dancing sacred!
we dug holes
surrounded by family
and friends..
i dug holes so
******
so depressed
so beligerently..

but they understood..
if i shewn any sign of recovery
they handed along and down
a bottle of something..
which gave me some thing
like insane..
and we´d be howling and laughing
in no time..going fit to ****..

and for dinner they would feed us
or go to the soup cafe..!
or to say soup kitchen
and then to the cafe
and we get so ******
no one cared
and runnng after
the man..
to get paid and
he has no change
and a way we go again..

i was consumed with the
dazzling mountains
but the villages impossible
too quiet
too ******
time after time..
i always enjoyed wine..
the local style..
ah..the bus rides
so close to death
the silent left
donkey dread..if,
the driver met a friend
we would stop for a drink
and a lot of shouting..
i worked on our gabbage truck
when george had to have his break..
george was our landlord too bless
he gave me a present every day
he would eat half a nut and press
the other half on me..
and come in the room
when he chose..
with a wild scream..
we had a lovely garden..
and frighten everyone..


he did not want a vacation
and to show his disgust
raced in front
and picked up
the garbage..
all his money went
on cognac..
we stopped at
most bars..
and at the end of the shift
we spied on the hippy chicks..
george would get his wheel barrow
and moonlighting..
i would play backgammon..
and do some reading...

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..

ii


lunch


iii

over lunch i chewed
with my few remaning
while glancing in the mirror

and i saw myself
for the first time
as i truly am

and somethings
slid into place
i think they call it

an epithany
i have been trying
of late

through various discipline
and just catching
dissapearing

but memories one
would imagine lost
have come

to explain and
raise further
questions

in my pursuit
of me ..in
knowing oneself
there is taboo

but what to do
but in my reflection
just for a moment..

recognition

i

machines giving order
getting in
closer

twirling over
mother nature
my mind

gets further
from here
o dear..

(marijuana
whispers
centre)

magic is like a stencil
it is simple
y
a question-

(how many beans
make five)
o
seen

in a coal cellar
by midnight
u
a matter

of dismissal-
when imagination
alive
is all..!

coordination-the sound of
one hand
clapping
etc..

when  impossible
is
a fish
on a bicycle

deletion-
the known
universe
and what

remains
a sprinkling
of hundreds
and
thousands

aeons really
when we
used
our minds

before the
obvious
before
once we

understood
a pantheist
reality
we could

fly
we had the
same high
as

we first had
and stayed
that way
a bird

a tree
simple and
beautiful
but magical..

man has lost all trace
of his woman
-a spirit of love
gone!

and in it´s place-
materialism?!
(roman above
athens!)

but in her face
still,a wisdom
and hell
all depends..

may day
yay mad
(ay ay dm..)

mad yay!?
may day
ya ya md-

dam!ayya!!
yam yad....
yad yam...

dya mya
ma da yy..
day may

d a y m a y
d a y m a y
d a y m a y..

me,
i spent a good amount
of my adolescence wondering
how it would be

without
sound and/or reflection
(a tricky time)
then in my twenties

came alcoholism
and monetarism
(-lack and
cognac!)

then,
me,
in my thirties-
(it got bad!)

mortality
came a knocking-
(a bad baby and a
kaas souffle..)

they do say-
life it begins at
forty-
(spain and me)

50
what to say
cancer came and
went-
(not me)

sixty one
still on
song
so..

me,
i am normal
i ´ll not
die
to save
the world?!

(or for the love
of a space-girl)neither,
i would rather
eat
than a compliment-

rather than my
toe-
nails pulled
i would sign
on

the dotted line...(that says ouch..!)
my sworn testament,
will verify,
that black is
white,

and white is
black..
front back
normal
like you

freedom of expression
is all well and
dandy
but when

one´s ******
in a vice
mice-elephants
and vice
lies-

-versa
that´s sure
quite normal
i´m sure
(even the threat
suffice-)

lies are normally
just  augmented
truth (or bits left
out..)-
truth is best!

and the best truth
is thank goodness
it is not me..!
as we march off
to war..

me,
again
woke the
morning
(just and only
for me)
the little birds
sang so
merrily
as i staggered
back to
bed to renew
my dreams-
a rather confused
affair
neither here nor
there
a hapless frown
twitched upon
my weary
countenance
mumbled
thing
hit a wall
either up or
down
hard to say and
even harder to
recall but then
when searching
the nether region
came upon   a magnificent
reason..

i

Melancholy
Is
Come..
Hell
As
Effort
Lies-

Just
Out!
Hues
None­..

ii

melancholia
reverse square
of humour..

melancholic
lightly dark
near yet far..

melancholy
stone wall
can not see..

iv

misunderstanding is bitter jam
says lily
to be spread far and wide
i see what i see..

i am not deluded
but honoured
not a mad man
but puzzled..

monday is a day
in any old way
(not,say a
fray..)
it holds i
like a new baby
like a found stray
(no time to be
like a honey bee)
placates me
like the *** brays
butter on maize
utter a sigh
be blithe!
monday morn

ing
ring
swing
sing
thing
ping..!

******
it is
even a fish

so a spider
too a fly
and

stuff
smaller
than that..

deliberate taking
of
existance

soon
esculate
to the wife

or husband
******
hand

no good
crying
sorry

or god
or contrition
still be

i

music is space
when that is
then we are
happy stars

like lace
or a kiss
hear soar
inspire

some lithe
gaps
a blithe tap
and fire

in but between
near
and far
pat

pat
pat..

my father was the real poet of
our family he would say of
such things barely on edge of
our collective conscience

that made poor sense but nearly
were we lynched at the weekly
poker school..as they woke dreamily
and he gathered his chips..

until in the end they gagged him
not literally but he decided to writing
it all down on some half baked whim
and we lost heavily..

i see him lying and giving up soon
going down the pub instead..
he expected it to pour out as it did
but his was just an excess of charm..

he was a very social person
inspired by an audience
not one for a blank screen
or some torn paper..

i)

my father would say to
me-
you can t have everything
you want..
i would ask why not
he would say,
because you will
appreciate nothing-
(i only asked for smarties)
so,in the ways of youth,
i appreciated nothing..

ii)
and i think still materialism
a bore
(though i love my
guitar)
mais-wee!..we go too
far!
blue,we want all!
and now we dont
belong..

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..

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...

my grandfather from liverpool
and my father too
sat in the kitchen
and discussed nothing  new

tired from a long day on the busses
he fell into a trouble slumber in
his arm chair
he thrashed and fussed

we his family would quietly gather
cries of protest and stifled incredulity
cut the warm air
the great grandfather ticked..

(before television
or we listened to arther askey)
he was a proud man
with right of way..

he told the boss to f himself
if he were n´t a gentleman..
what he would make of this
world today..

so,he went through his day
and we tried not to laugh
the man who earned his wage
tired of this *******

i guffawed and he woke
he fixed us with his pale
beautiful eyes..
and later the next morning

in  the lovely little back
garden
in the hushed roar
he said we would be friends..

i)

my life has been a complete waste of
time
i have achieved nothing
i am a total failure..

ii)

my father did nt know if
i was an idiot or a
genius..
i was too idle to fall

off the couch..
he said i would get into
trouble..
(beware the ides of march..)

iii)

but despite all
i quite enjoyed it
thus far are
we not the culmination of
our days
how ever..

(my lover has doodled some strange prostrate cat
and it is my ambition to capture essence of that..)
it´s nature is of an aqua marine well kicked back
giving the aura of a feline on the beach is laugh!
it´s hind left has scored some thing but just what-
it´s eyes are as empty and smiled as sphinx pit
a pat..it´s cute proboscis   inverted t right height..
and the line as endless as life..if it could be it...
there is something endless and odd  happy light
it´s front paws should not really not be..but
as a whole and to hell ear fret a wood cut..might
have been a picasso if he did which so bright..
it is one great smile..and only one break past
and now with a tint of the future one and one..
i think i will put it on the wall or fridge something
to consider squared an questioned in blue time..

my memory is not
too hot
it might be

a vitamin deficiancy-
they say,eat fish!
i prefer to for get..

iii



my neighbour in eilat
what an amazing chap
i wanted to know his story

but he was far too canny
so secret he
he was silent

the only thing he ever said
was never run
i had that feeling

so i went to consult with tom
storm clouds were brewing
he played the beatles

early stuff and after adjusting
his cigarette holder
would play mr postman

by the carpenters
in this hiatus
he gave me an odd look..

which kind of meant
go to dahaab  and
enjoy yourself

so i did
..

my vanity has
become an abyss
(but poetry will do
tis too a body)

say, if one were
void
a lost and broken
toy

is it not preferable
so
here we have the
here and now?!

(better to have a
big head
than
loose the thread..)

my vanity has become an
abyss-
i am the proverbial
gold fish
i want that-
i want this-
around and
around-
a rather
chilly
world..

is my mind an
endless list
(i am an artist!)
dreams abound
the linear
drowned
echo sounds-
beep!
be!!
b..

my soul a wish
i love me
ocean deeply!
like spheroid
round but
round
my mouth going
plop-plop!
but lonely
i want everything..

my vanity is intrinsically
linked to
artistic endeavor!
without one..
life is a b..?!

i am like a gold fish
where ever i look there
is me?!
(in the trees)
sometime, hopelessly
contorted in creation
and sometime real-
the search for
perfection
(other than
a mirror)
round and round
gill rot?!

surrounded by
treasure
and feces
(to tell one
from the
other..)
the curious
waters-change
come from else
where!?
my mouth goes
plop-plop!
and there!