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i)
Michael John Aug 16
i)
i)

well..down at the
pickled, it is quite still,
(after happy hour some tears, perhaps..)

johnny crash, and the sad rehearse,
you aint nothing but a hound dog!
ernie,lone star, on the dance-floor

with a move reminiscent of
travolta
threatens to throw a hip..

ii)

a god points at a silver star-
edna and gb take their drinks to
a quiet corner..

do you remember..?!some
laughter..two heads close but
not too close

silhouettes
like shy flowers..
time´s illusionary petals

iii)

fall away..
well, quite a long time ago..
(but behind and in the window

happy stands-like
hal in the lip-reading scene
of 2001..)

iv

*** the doorman approaching
with his raffle-tickets
but they seem like

they have won
a cruise to a sunny horizon
do you guys need refreshing?

no,we are fine-not a cloud,
johnny sings of a thing called love
and even the sad are smiling..

iv

a happy ending..
he makes his way to the door
*** is solid-gone

happy waits patiently
sniffs his paw
he will go say, howdy..
i)
Michael John Jul 15
i)
i)

what you expect is seldom
what you get
but expectation is art

wishing into come
magical and dissapointment
is learning..
i)
Michael John Jun 20
i)
i)

it is hard to judge your
own creation
ask any mother or god

(i am neither)
and i write and forget
or to forget

that i might write
another-something that
means something

or might change the
cosmos and everything in it
or just go-do-ray-mi..

ii

this is the fun-never knowing
but using my thumb and
middle can create

indifference puzzlement
love and hate
in some ambigousness-

left handed fate..
or a play with words
some loch ness

iii

monster at the gate
going-ahhhhhhhh!
when it turns absurd

but keep on going
regardless-what might occur
something of interest

like art or wait..
life is short
and death is long..

iv

try not to say
what is the point
(cause it´s an oblong)

pointless questions
a dirge or some long lost song
that has no effing ending

but goes ding-****
but makes millions
happy..

or why bother?
long long the flow
of tiny little things..!

v

once i dreamed of
fame and fortune..
lily, are you listening?

why,she says marking
her page-what is she reading-
her own poems..here´s one-

a)

i wanted money
so i could eff off
the factory

(or office..)
the time piece
like a ***** or rack

-the monster of
silver and black
that nailed

into my head and
heart
so lost but accurate...

(i might rise late
and drink good coffee
yawn and be happy..)

b)

fame seems a bit
of an oversight
who to trust..

when it´s lost
something indefinable
the strangers babble..

i was me
now,what to say
what is it i

thought it was
things change
but to what..

vii

what is she reading
her own poems still
here is another one..

it is called


just to
**** time:
in the mind
if you stick pins in mine-

a second hand..stretching
on a rack never to come
back..elongating and breaking
(thumbs *******)

you see me
in the factory
looking up at three
and again at five..
i)
Michael John Mar 2
i)
i)

no trouble to rhyme..
(spelling that is my aim)
i, took about ten minutes..

and how about, grok?!
you ever hear that one?-
to understand profoundly..

what?..yeah..grok..man..
death is..
(***,says lily..)

ii

not a question of demand
and supply
not a picnic

not do or die
same for all the pixies
or a return..

obituaries-burn
in hell or heaven
bound..

one line-or
a single word-
like, why..
i))
Michael John Sep 9
i))
i))

a delayed write about a
monster-how often have you heard
it-?
we create our own monsters..

like we dig up graves by night
and by day fit
ill-assorted brains into
huge bodies...!?

but there is the lonely laughter
there is a corner
a brother,a sister
a mother, a father

my friend igor..
a creator
a destroyer
an idea

a notion
an obsession
complexion-
a god likened

ii

and around the mountain
come the locals
torches and cries..!-

once we have done
never to be undone!
rises the sun..
i))
Michael John Mar 5
i))
i))

people love to impart their prob-
lems on to you-
they like to tell you their secrets?
it´s a way of listening
without seeming too..

they want to manipulate
and end manipulated
for,if they are not manipulating
then,in some obscure fashion-

i am pulling the strings..
and this may be an end or dawn
like eyes meeting accross a crowded room
like some wave crashing..

the ones to watch out for
are the ones who want nothing
ippity-bippity
serendipity..

lily waves a finger
a spiralling trigger
the quiet linger
never say never..
Michael John Oct 7
i

40 years on lily
and i hate every-one
such is life..

what happened
you tell me-
(be brief..)

ii

maybe,
you put your existentialistic
finger on it-

brevity..death looms
we fall apart
our hearts grow cold..

sickness
madness
there is reality..

iii

and far too quickly
when twenty
how the sea was blue

and like wise the sky
eternal, just innocence
a sixpence

in the floating ether
the sun and tide
the evening done..
Michael John Sep 2017
i actually talked to my heroes
and they were pretty interesting
some say never meet your heroes..
some say there are no more heroes..

but i found them modest interesting
and fearful in about the same measure..
so..
i noticed the rats did too..
Michael John Nov 2018
i always envisaged me
as a man met everyday
but who was never met..
stepped to a non exist

from some far imagined
some distant punch line
a question marked
a low mirror signed

waiting for my wine
but a glass of neither
half
arrived..

and yet immersed in
to white trees
to a magnificent
blue..

i began to feel
where else
underneath
the stars
(and you.)
Michael John Dec 2023
i am getting too old to
sin
when she asks
where you been..?

i was feeding the
birds
or counting clouds
that sort of thing..
Michael John Oct 21
i am tired lily
cries
from the red eye

i will supine
just here
in the dusty road

and read the clouds
in the reflected
decked in glory

wonder at you and
me
the same and yet

cosmically apart
(just go around)
alive and yet dead..

i shall prostrate for
peace are we not
kith and kin

brother and sister
do we not all want
the same..?!
Michael John Mar 2022
(i am 500 today!)
and how odd
life is say-
why me,lord,
not to betray
the still road
a long way!
a lost word-
to what may-
a heavy load
undeniably
but o
young to old
hey presto!  
time´s fold
crazy..
Michael John Jan 2022
i am a king in exile
but weep ye not
for love in reason
soon return

and a sacred crown
to albion!
new pagan britain
a great people..!

yeah..
Michael John Jan 2022
i am a king in exile
(been here a while)
but return in style
dear people..yeah..
yeah..

and in my trail
freedom and love
a muse royal!
a new age!
a new pagan britain!
Michael John Jan 2022
i am a king in exile
but fear not
my people
i shall return soon

and a golden age
of freedom
and happiness
rule

yeah..
Michael John Apr 2018
i



long wind
about 40 second
s..
from begining to end..
but in rewind..

effing eternal..!
ah..the cool park bench
then we got the cops
they were cool too..

under the beautiful orbs
we shared a cigarette
and watched the stars
like so many ghosts..

getting older in
same moment..
never never
repeated..

ii


i reminisce lily girl friend..


iii

before i am dead..
i will sonnet it

how
start at the end
lily backward..

iv

sitting we by the great will of god head,
we shared a smoke and watched the brightest stars,
any,we were alive of stoutest hearts,
not ghosts..never..never..never..she said,
we laughed..and gave yesterday´s old sad bread
to the ducks..we will recall the past war-
they say go to hell go there go very so far,
for i would rather expire...yet....be dead,

we were blanked and from the ******* harbour,
he ran off for his gun after a ghosts
stance and i thought this cost..(and i so lost..)
she hurled stuff at the night right manager,
then soon about second we were like hosts
reflected and shiny it´s love the most..
Michael John Mar 2021
i am an enchanter
look deep to the star
twin and singular

far and far
for and for
lovers

as we are
and will be
circulars
to eternity..!
Michael John Jul 2021
i am bored!
i am bored
as a ghost

dis-
disinterest
as burnt

toast-
tedium
dreary?!

(dum-di-dum..)
as a wet sunday
afternoon

in Dumfries*
ah,me
melancholy-

like contemporary
as poetry
as watching

the grass grow
as ancient
as bone
Michael John Jan 2019
i am grown an
extra head
the ten thousandth
grand

says lily but
petite
stay in
caustic

sand
i will knot
some
cotton

sew a
button
knot´s
keep

wicked
on
it´ s
toe..
Michael John Jun 2021
i am inspired
until
white found
or words

flit like extinct
birds
like love in
your eyes

i am ready to die
to bite dirt
and expired

remember you
love
and how much
much

it hurts
(the past
like clouds above
they would take that)

to create
to be like a god
to be-a star
but there is you.
Michael John Jun 2021
i am inspired
by time and
by the sparrows

i am inspired by
bugs
(i can not find)

-also communal
desire
fire

the power of
minds
napolean coste

trees
afternoon tea
dostoyevski

the pantheistic
nature of
the universe

polite people
some smile
miles

and miles
the sky
you and i

i am inspired
by leonard cohen
by bill and ben

the beginning
the end
and the little

bit betwixt
twix
cold milk

the word
ilk
elk

and whelks
kindness
the same

differences
obscure
references

i am inspired by
knowledge
(mahap,

my lack
there of)
the edges

of stuff
love
(but not

doughnuts)
snowdrifts
if,buts

and maybe
aunty mary
getting on

inspiration
never ending
never..
Michael John Jun 2021
i am inspired (part three)
by hogs
bruja
certain triptych
of bosch
bowie..

donkeys
reality
we
(now and when)
the fens
ah..

i am inspired
(by the odds
that it should
occur
in a universe
which thus far

has been
proved barren..)by
darren
daring
chutzpah
quiet communing..

nice..
ice,
the morning-
the swallows
interplay
in the agave..

let it be,pepe,
as it is-
an old friend
would say to me
but
cocco-nuts..

a bamboo hut
perched by the
surf
libraries
worth
the hearth..

good health!
elves
song
winter logs
fractions
hedgehogs..

chance meeting
life long friendship
ships
hips
james joyce..

rolls royce
i am inspired
by amelia

by d
minor seventh-
a first chord

the last word
inspire
inspiring
inspiration
inspires
in..
*a novel by yevgeny zamyatin
*testament d´amelia-miguel llobet
Michael John Sep 2018
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..
Michael John Jan 2022
i am not
a pipe or ***
a monkey or sot
a dash or dot
a little or lot
a babe in a cot
why,when,or what
cold or hot
living rot
a distinct blot..

i am on the other
a fair listener
a brother
a sister
a mother
a father
further
nearer
hand sand
a magic wand
canned and
desparate dan
an avid reader
exotic and bland
black and tan
ollie and stan..

i don´t care much
for twits or aircraft
kits
wits
twix
that´s untrue
small bits
of stuff
too tedious to
go into
fascinate..

i am old and
young
i am dead and
gone
i am an acorn
a pagan
a lucky stone
amid seven billion
odd and even
i don´t hate
this seems strange
hate is healthy
like love
i worry
if i can´t hate
what..

i am musical
this is all
for me
i played the guitar
immedietly
and cant stop!
a top or head
the little girl beside
me was so enamoured
she said she would be my girl
friend
i started playing the
penny whistle at thirty
and harmonica some time
after
and then the violin and
drum in spain
the mandolin is fun..

i read poetry for thirty
year
before putting pen to
paper
sometimes i wish i
had not bothered
and sometimes i
am glad..
sad and
mad..

it is a point
but less
an ing with a
bless
i sky
i am at
sea
a bull
a lull
a sea gull
sea gulls..!!

i can tell you
something about
sea gulls
but what is the
point
i am resisting
smoke
i am empty
and full
i loathe thats
ok
killing time
bats are col
or cool or perhaps
anything that can
fly
loathe is somehow
lithe..
i like hats..

cats
rats
bats
fats
waller

cosy flats
welcome mats
pitter patt
rain in the
small wee hours
flowers

not so much
less a point
today i was thinking just
how worse
can it be
i think about the generation
lost in the first world
war
to die so young..
i got three books at the boot
sale or two, one is the prose
of pushkin
i like to read a short story
at breakfast
and something by the author
of cathy come home..homeless in
the uk in the sixties..
it puzzles me that the
richest country in the world
for a long time, had such
poverty..

but it does not pay to
dwell on such pain
i got three dvds-
some how an end
begins-
i watched marlene
ditrich as
a powerful russian queen..
clever trevor
and nina hagan
i can reccomend..
and jack london
the short stories there
of..
love is a suitable
finale..
Michael John Nov 2019
i am not surprised to exist
but since your first kiss
i have felt like a fish
on a flowered dish

or frozen in a waterfall wish
dirt poor and rich
hid on heaven´s niche
some strange terrible

itch
burns an unseen hole
that you hardly notice
came as no surprise
born into this*

you said
or something as equally
trite
or kitsch and
fell into
drunken oblivion
b....!

the title of a biography
of charles bukowski
Michael John Nov 2018
i

i am time surfer
i crawl through space
i am in your brain
in..

lily you are high
again..
witches ate that
pretty one..

i am inside
do not hide
i can read
your mind
they were burned

ii

lewd creature..
it is mushroom season
how ever
don´ t eat them
as you go along..

lol..i could nt wait
i met everyone
it was free and it
was fun..

as all the colours played
and my perception grew
or i thought it did..
from a far..

i spied the groundsman
strolling over
and dogs like magic
a lovely clear morning..

it is a short grass and
no frost
you lose something
no..

i put them in cider
i made spagetti
now you can get a kit
let my self not get
the better of me..


iii

lily pipes up
they are natural
god meant us to get
high..
that is so..

but not to ****
each other with
guns or sabre
or rock..

we hid and were
just prey
while searching
for magic
i found
friendly
interest..
Michael John Sep 2018
i am rather torn
when it comes to
suicide
on the one hand
it is one´s own
life
but on the other
this destruction
may spiral wide
reverberate
through time
gathering power
depositing
sadness
and despair
til the whole
world falls
asunder
beseeching
and to the
pretty
blue
i
we
you
they
cry why..!!

*a mention of suicide by
twigzy..
Michael John Sep 2021
i am to water the flowers
yet again
it begins to sting some
what
am i doing here
the birds sing..
well,what are you
doing here mf
your fine feather
shine in sun
superior
i hear you now
singing
it is for you
this earth spins
and we are to die..
Michael John Sep 4
i and ii etc

mandible, i like
some words just
fiddle in the  brain

like too much mead-
a stranger in from the cold-
a penny a pint..

ii

(just so someone is
beautiful
means not i want

to put my
appendage in
their orifice..)

iii

two more words that
resonate like lover´s
first glance..

-their beauty may bore
them like a closing time
on a saturday..

iv

are you going to write
a poem, lily..?
i don´t know..

i have to clear my
mind-i am bogged
in the raw..
Michael John Aug 2018
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..
Michael John Aug 2021
i awake to yesterday
which is say
today

without but with
plenty
pray..
Michael John Oct 8
i

but on the positive
there is belief-
more of interest-

soon to be proved or disproved..
last word..?
o what a world!?

and into the void!
no more pain and no
more me..

ii

no more mornings
and little birds singing
coffee and eggs

no more silence
no wondering what comes
next

no more the tedious washing
up or off to the office
no more music..

iii

or writing..
no more nonsense
indeed-

no more senses
where o where will
they be..

are we afeared
****,we have lived
well..a tree..
Michael John Jul 2018
i can do no right
i feel like a blight
every wrong so
movement..
no how silent
(if war became art!)
the sun and moon yet..
i feel a great debt..
i think soon be dead
the hare in the moon said
just a stop gapped
reborn and bled..
Michael John Aug 2018
i

i can put my nose in the air too
saying and who are you
and what do you do..
(ah, your way is true..)

ii

but i think i loose
pointless-elitism
a silly noose..

iii

in the end
a stuffed goose

iv

friend
my choice

v

your choice..
Michael John Nov 2018
i

i can see the join
i was mentally dis jointed
my mind had stopped
(but not a full stop..)

really i found a beginning
when it all began..
i considered my hand
long and long and..

ii

saw the gaps between
or what might be..
(well we all realize parallel
realities-heaven and hell-)

i thought that an odd place
gathered rainbows for tears
seemed like a fair trade
in my crib laid

iii

and a hex was hexed
and what occurred next
(solid lack of any syntax
who would credit that..)

not me..sleep little one
you can always pass on
within a curling digit
that that answers it..
Michael John Apr 15
i can´t..
(no,you can´t)
does n´t matter

how clever..
well i might roam india
with loving bowl

shave my head
and save my soul
meet beautiful people..!

ii

like a blue bird
-life is magical
(that´s an option)

choice is imperative
open winged
through the midnight..
Michael John Sep 2023
i

i can´t eat brevity..or
severity
neither levity..

ii

nor poetry..
sincerity
too infinity..

iii

beauty-
bumble bees
may save us yet-

iv

sanity
sweet as honey
is there for asking..
Michael John Sep 2023
i can´t eat sincerity
but you look fine in
your red-beret..
you´ll share with me

that which is mine-
i have this generosity
all my life-
the cellulose covers

the razor blade..
blos-it tickles really!
this is your way...
we can laugh..
Michael John Apr 16
i

i can´t eat your smiles
or your silences
(we have been down

this road..)
for how many years..
lily, here is reality-

ii

reality is boring-
in a tea-shirt-
you don´t work-

you don´t eat..
(and if there is no
work..?)

iii

we signed on-
about 19 pounds a
week..

a giro came once
a fortnight
usually on a friday..

iv

(we were lucky?!)
it was kind of boring
it was hard to know

what to do-
there was the punk
scene-

(about the only thing
that made me feel
young..)

a girlfriend slapped
me with a book-
crime and punishment

so i read it-guilt and
sickness but no internet-
the future looked grim..

v

war raged (unofficially
of course)
things got rather *****

i said eff this lily
and went to greece
where i knew nothing..
Michael John Jan 2019
i could have
done with a
little purpoise..

mostly, i felt
like a dolphin
sniffing mines..

but also not
a whale of a
time
tried not to carp

selfish
shellfish
eel pie
high

be off
cod
leave
love..
Michael John Jul 2020
i dedicated time to
learning
hours every day
so i could make
a living

hour after hour
every day
year in
and year out

at the beginning
of each decade
and
at the end

i said
i will
a way
devotion

try and
try
again

(i even
stopped
drinking)
then

and now?
now
..
.

ii

so as many
do
o!

a dream too
nothing new
no

go
gat a
job
boyo..!

iii
Michael John Oct 2020
I do not know if
the world has lied
i have lied
i do not know
if the world has conspired
i have conspired against love
the atmosphere of torture
is no comfort
i have tortured
listen,
even without the mushroom cloud
still,i would have hated
i will not be held like a drunk
under the cold tap of facts
i refuse the universal alibi..

like an empty telephone booth
passed at night and remembered
like mirrors in a movie palace lobby
consulted only on the way out
like a nymphomaniac that binds a thousand
into a strange brotherhood
i wait for each one of you to confess..

Leonard Cohen
Michael John Nov 2019
i don´t know if i can wait
i don't know if i can die
do i believe in fate
(life a lover´s sigh..)

i do try not to fear
my eyes unborn star
while outside rain falling
and leonard reads his poems..
Michael John Mar 2022
i dont like you
but you are entitled
to your sad existence
(such as it is)

and if you choose to
cry about it
while you goose step
with pointy finger

then,a quick and
speedy death,
my friend, and
that is kind..
Michael John Nov 2019
i dream about you
dreamt about you
i dreamed about you
dreaming about you

how i loved you
how i love you
loving you
love

you
waking
woke
waked
wake..
Michael John Jul 2023
i dreamt about a poem
not i dreamt a poem
note-how the world hangs
upon a word

from to on in
little things
but such a difference
exist-ence..
Michael John Jul 2023
i dreamt about a poem
to my knowledge
i have not  

the grey sun
the little birdies song
i awoken to one..
Michael John Jul 2023
i dreamt about a poem
it was someone else
their opening
birth and death

they went to heaven
meanwhile
i am waiting
clueless and adrift..
if,
Michael John Oct 2023
if,
i

if, poetry is the way
the world could be
where as science is-

both are ego-trips-
i think it is the buddhists
believe enlightenment

begins with the death
of the self-sharing is
true-wealth..

(does it include the
spliff-i interject
acidly-)

lily..

ii

giggles and says,
lambs-sake, where are
my manners?

do you indulge, paul?
no-beer,wine..?
water, where life

began..she is new age
pagan any-hows..
well,we have no doctrine

it is up to us..
you know,like pick and
mix..

at woolworths..
woolworths doesnt exist
do you think god exists,paul..

well,i was cynical
but the positioning
of earth sun and moon

and my children..
we are all children and
somehow the same..


iii

our belief is one primarily
of light
same..

the seasons change
the universe
a church..

cathedral
the love and worship
of natural

one glass of water
energy flowing
a feather-

but numbers,paul-?!
the cabal-
your thoughts..?
Michael John Sep 18
if you can´t enjoy yourself-
if you can´t speak the truth
if you can´t breath
if you can´ t be..

lily reads some wolfe-
suddenly,the image blazed
to the structure of hard actuality
another bar..
and all around hoarse laughter
high,sanguinary voices
a sudden scheme of faces scarred of night and
vivid with night´s  radiance..prostitutes
taxi-drivers...and those other nameless,unmistakable ones,
who come from somewhere-god knows where
and who live somehow-
god knows how-
and who recede again into morning
into unknown cells but who live here only,
brief as moths and balefully as a serpents eye
in the unwholesome chemistry of the night..

she says she like wolfe
i read him too
he tells the truth
in poetic words
hard to put down..
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