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Jun 2019 · 267
midsummer and a wake
johnny solstice Jun 2019
around midnight pools
   ancients gazed
          past the flickering,
                 fleeting present
                         peered incredulously
                                                   into the future
                                                    ………..and marveled
                                                                             at our ineptitude
solsticeMoon solstys leshy weiczszyca soltys
Jun 2019 · 181
DOCTOR TO THE PATIENT
johnny solstice Jun 2019
........have you been taking your PILLS?"
said the DOCTOR
"are you *******?"
said the PATIENT

are you checking your *****?"
said the DOCTOR
"I don't think this is right"
said the PATIENT

"you volunteered to see me"
said the DOKTOR
"can I volunteer not to see you?
said the PATIENT

"I'm sending you to see a specialist"
said the DOCTOR
"I don't want to be on any kind of list"
said the PATIENT

"I think you're depressed"
said the DOCTOR
"I think you'd better get dressed"
said the PATIENT

"I'm supposed to say that"
said the DOCTOR
"just a bit of role-play"
said the PATIENT

same time next week?"
said the DOCTOR
"if you think it will help?"
said the patient
Jun 2019 · 645
DANCING WITH THE ROOSTER
johnny solstice Jun 2019
my love and i go dancing
dancing in the rain
around the bells of midnight
we gamble with our pain

my love and  i go dancing
dancing in the rain
amongst the dew of isis
we bed down with the grain

yes my love and i go dancing
every now and then
around the bells of midnight
the rooster and his hen

well we dance the dance of ages
we circle round the stones
we rhyme the world to reason
and catch the first bus home

yes my love and i go dancing
through the cities late at night
we dance the dance of destiny
till the early morning light

and when we've danced our two-step
we huddle in the rain
we gamble with our heartache
and then we dance again

yes my love and i go dancing
through rivers seas and clouds
we kick the mule of reason
in our tie-dye funeral shrouds

yes my love and i go dancing
every now and then
around the bells of midnight
the rooster and his hen
Jun 2019 · 131
Chooze now!..
johnny solstice Jun 2019
"Chooze now!.." she said in a tone that left no doubt she meant business
"Would you prefer to be scared to death or bored to death?"
A wave of panic swamped my brain as I realised
being bored to death was the scariest thing I had ever contemplated
and being scared was about the most boring thing I could imagine

"infurra penny infurra pound" sez I,
as I tickle the clutch and hug the camber……….
the GS responds with her usual throaty grunt and wiggles her tailfeathers as I rattle the cats eyes-.
The soft-bodied moths bounce off my cheeks as I hit the ****-switch and all becomes bible-black
The bike leaves the descriptive part of the ****-backed bridge and I wait for touch-down…..

I wait……….

I continue to wait………….

All is still….. somewhere far off a badger is trying to dislodge a pistachio shell from one of  his nostrils by employing a series of short sneezes that sound like someone scratching vinyl…

still I wait……………….

And wait………….

The badger has resorted to cross-fading and a slight reverb but to no avail.

Time passes ……..

"Chooze now!.."
"a shooting star or a star gazer?"

the pistachio is evacuated with a satisfying "plop"
and the ground rushes up to meet the rubber………….
……………….and misses by fourteen and a half  feet.

I wait…………..

And wait…………
Jun 2019 · 1.1k
Starfish
johnny solstice Jun 2019
Starfish we were, and golden eyed
Strings of memory, before ever we cried
Starfish we were, two snakes entwined
Coded language, divinity enshrined.

Starfish we were, Five pointed stars
from the heart of the apple, Venus and Mars
starfish we were, all connected together
fractals reduced to the vein of a feather

starfish we were, from our toes to our hands
our DNA helix in the quartz of the sands
from mountain to sea-bed and up to the stars
the heart of our matter, of how we’ve come far

starfish we were, there’s no going back
what we desire, is not what we lack
starfish we were and golden eyed
coded language, divinity enshrined
Jun 2019 · 114
DEPRESSION......
johnny solstice Jun 2019
There's nowt round here but wasted opportunities,
two or more pushchairs constitutes community,
"no-one smiles", the badge of indignity,
the most used queue is the one for electricity
                                                             TOKENS
                   high-rise tenement heart-broken,
                       yearns for pleasure unspoken,
               Daydream Tee-Vee
                            comfy setee
                                  casualty
         accident & emergency
........SOCIAL CLUB...
..down the "RUB-A-DUB"
DUB AN' BASS                 Time and place
vanish without trace          in the land of the briefcase
no jobs at the coalface       no room in the rat-race
selling jesus on a pillowcase
while your soul falls from grace
your light vanishes without trace
your brain starts to think............

poetry can be really depressing
especially when you're dressing
to go out to dinner
and wishing you were thinner
and wanting to be a winner
so we can have more losers
more unfulfilled consumers
the last thing you want
is a SACRED CLOWN
making you frown
bringing you down
bringing you round
with the sound
of your round
and round
the Mulberry Bush!!!

Paper money from the bark
"in god we trust", quite frank
promises the bank
of pyramids
the bank of semi-solid
promises
to the bearer
What could be fairer?
Are you a sharer?
or a failure........
to understand
the Promised Land
was always in our hands
till you took it from our care
and made us unaware
that we even owned a share
of this earthly paradise
as you rented us a slice
and told us we were mice
well! isn't that nice
to be getting advice
from the ministry of price
to suit all pockets
invested in rockets
cash crops for guns
fast food in a bun
truth on the run
beg for the crumbs
from the Vampires
from the Vulture
who design your
FUTURE
then  sell you "here and now"
on an installment plan
with a final demand
for more prompt payments
for the balance outstanding
bailiffs impending
more paper lending
PROMISES THE BEARER
there could be quarer
times than this
hit and miss
jug-o-****
just round the corner
of a windswept
tenement block
could be molten rock
or some ****-stars ****
selling you a crock
of something less
than wholesome
of something less
than Freedom
Of a product called
EMOTION-INNA-LOTION
MAJIK-POTION-PROMOTION
BRAND-LOYAL-DEV­OTION
with nothing to pay
while the tides at bay
BANISHES GREY
and gets in the corners
where others cant reach
on a "holiday-brochure-beach"
with your elektronik LEASH
BLOWIN' IN THE WIND
like a flag of BELIEF
vanity steals your beauty
like a THIEF
there’s no let up
no RELIEF
JUST TASTE SENSATIONS
AND SPARKLING TEETH
0% FINANCE
and 100% GRIEF
Jun 2019 · 454
DRIP DRIP DRIP
johnny solstice Jun 2019
( this work is livicated to the six children who will die
in the so-called "third-world in the time it takes to read it)

Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pipe
in the shanty town
as the young mothers gather round
plastic containers on the ground
listening to the drip, drip, drip
of life ebbing away

the riverbeds have all dried up
the wells are mineshafts to the past
the irrigation channels of their *******
are polluted now by the Cuckoo's Nest

the powdered-milk...the dust-bowl fields
the quotas met......the land reveals
the hand that rocks this cradle
is the one who lays the table
with "third-world" debt their able
to rob and **** and disable

as the dehydrated bodies blow away like ashes
the multi-national faschists........
        with vampire banks decashes
the breast-milk of the masses
witha ****** drip, drip, drip

from the ******* of the mothers
the corporations smother....
      the babies in their sleep
the cuckoo comes as a thief
with a free sample and a brief
case full of deceipt............

may I make a suggestion?
"ASK SOME QUESTIONS"

As you eat your chocolate
and drink your coffee
and smear ice-cream on your lovers body
and NESTLE down to the land of noddy
to dream of countless trucks and lorries
ferrying the cow-juice and the slurry
burning the forests in such a hurry

more cattle and cash and burn and $lash
leaves a gaping ****
in the dried-up flesh of Mother Earth
and 4000 babies every year
yes 4000 babies every year
return to the DUST....
BOWL..............BREAKFAST BOWL
CEREAL BOWL..........SERIAL KRIME
CORN and MILK spells CORPORATE CRIME
dished up for your childrens belly
in front of telly-tubby tellies





Chocolate bars and candy treats
robbed from the swollen teats
of mutated udders
whilst the cow's baby brothers
are herded into crates
and served on rich mens plates
the mothers stand and wait
and listen to the rate
        of the DRIP
                 DRIP
                  DRIP
of spilt milk down the drain
the governments explain
and bury their shame
under mountains of grain
and excess champagne

and if you BEG
you get Easter eggs instead
served up by the "head"
whose saviour bled
with a steady DRIP
                  DRIP
                  DRIP

and I scream and jelly
and biscuits and cakes
make bovine mistakes
and cheesy diseases
from the milk that turns sour
reminds us every hour
of this KATTLE KULTURE HERESY
of babies dying constantly
with a DRIP
         DRIP
         DRIP
This was written in the 1990s against Nestle and their practice of giving free formula to new mothers in areas of the world where access to clean water were rare leading to many infant deaths
Jun 2019 · 232
SALE OF THE CENTURY....1999
johnny solstice Jun 2019
CAR OF THE WEEK
MAN OF THE MOMENT
GIRL OF THE MONTH
HORSE OF THE YEAR
SALE OF THE CENTURY

Better start an inventory
Check what’s missing
Hear the gas hissing
Don’t even  think…..
about dissin
this lyric I’m spittin
out LAVA
TORNADO
TYPHOON
So you’ll see very soon
How strong your Mother really is!
The Question is not an answer in itself
There’s more to food than the price on the shelf
There’s more to life than hoarding wealth
There’s more to this than meets the eye
BUT WHY?
Bother with a question
Just live
On AUTO-SUGGESTION
WHY NOT?
Count, Weigh and Measure
All the things that you find
And make yourself BLIND
To the fact that this IS
“my FLESH”
that you’re BURNIN and LOOTIN
those are my LUNGS
that you’re CHOKIN with you’re SMOKIN
this is my BLOOD
that’s FLOWIN
                   FULLA NOXIOUS
SUBSTANCES
Whilst the Stock Market CASH
                                        BOOM
                                        CRASH
                                        BOOM
                                         CASH
CASH on DEMAND
GOLD from my TEETH
Con-sumer demand
OIL from  my belly below
FUTURES DEMAND
FINAL DEMAND
Sale of the Century
Everything must go
So you know
Who you are
When you wake up
Saying “wot’s up?”
You may have to cup
A hand to your ear
So you hear
Very clear
This lyrik I’m chatting
The voice I am passing
The word of
“the MOTHER OF ALL F**KERS….
GOOD EVENING SUCKERS…!”
Time to wake up
alarm bell ringing
Fluid in my lungs
make birds stop singing
whales stop swimming
iceberg melting
Spells change
Smells strange
When viewed up close
Where the dose
Is the strongest
But strangest
Of all
Is the fall
From grace

From the bottom of the list
         Of endangered species
             You’ve carved niches
                    Genocided species
                                 Built follies
                                 Burnt witches
                                 Dug ditches
                                 Built fences
Against yourselves
    Against your spouses
               Within your houses
                              of detention
                               Prevention
                            Is better than cure
        The water has to be pure
If we can be sure, what constitutes pure?
SO
Better do some catchup
Have a mental checkup
Don’t crackup
Or blowup
Or turnup LATE
For your own
Great Escape
Don’t leave it too late
Your Mother can’t wait
To have a big shake
And scratch off her fleas
And boil up the seas
A few thousand degrees
Then you’ll see
A sale of the century
Where everything goes
Up the nose
Of who do you suppose?
And whose eye will it sting
When fire I bring
From down below
My oceans
Ancient potions
Alchemical lotions
Make motions
Measured in Richter scales
Southern gales
Beached whales
Mothers wail
Another sale
Of a slave
To the rhythm of madness
To the rhythm divine
The divine intervention
The total dissection
Of my very womb
Crash
Boom crash
Boom
Closing down sale
While stocks last
Last few days
Everything must go
at the SALE OF THE CENTURY
johnny solstice Jun 2019
The world's a funny old place
There used to exist wondrous civilisations
in south amerika, north amerika,
afrika, australia and asia

Brown eyes in asia
Brown eyes in afrika
Brown eyes in the amerikas
brown eyes in australia
Brown eyes in asia.......

In europe, old Blue eyes
with holy laws got us tongue-tied
and gave us Blue-eyed apartied
You gnow this lyrik can wright
words come out free-flight
set the "truth" alight
enough of this pirate *****
robbers and looters take fright
I am the holy grail's "white knight"
a rhyming flea-bite
the verbal gun-fight
of a poet's loaded tongue
singing the praises of the unsung
crying the cry of the dumbed-down
dissin' the excommunicated klowns
this is the patriachal showdown
religious apartied must shut down
exorcise these cabbagetowns
time to make the vampires frown

Time to make your blue eyes brown
see through your brothers eyes
read through the lines of lies
recognise the world wide spies

"Apartied is dead?"..."Mandela is free!"
but not for all aboriginees
the nomads of the desert
and the people of the trees
and every kind of refugee
I don't see no Comanche presidency
in the land of the Brave.....
.....or the land of the Free
All I see is economic slavery
and god-fearing hypocricy
a full-on global tragedy
too much HE and not enough SHE
too much US and too much THEM
divide and conquer again and again
Sanity sold by CON-men
Truth dished out by AD-men

"so help me god" AMEN
"with god on our side" AMEN
"in god we trust" AMEN

who burnt the sisters at Salem?
how did it start?...and when...
...........will it end
this truth I defend
I come again and again
check my refrain
to remain LOVE MUST REIGN
feel this and you feel no pain
to remain LOVE MUST REIGN

They've played their game
the more things change
it's always the same
using pens to rob your brain
telling us that we're insane
well here's a lie from the outsane
your system stinks like your house-drains
your blue minds are chemically stained
your self-worth's imprisoned in fear-chains
no kind of killing is humane
all prejudice is ingrained
the vultures are driving the gravy-train
supremacists carry a blood-stain
blue-eyed apartied is soul-shame
the HIStory of victors is all that remains

In the last hour 2,000 people have died of starvation......
2,000 acres of rainforest have been destroyed.....
half a ton of toxic chemicals have been released into the atmosfear
50 plants and animals have become extinct

SO!..what do you think?
does it stink?
are we the weakest link?
are we standing on the brink?
of a precipice, sheer........
......with no bottom
all our gains are ill-gotten
this system is rotten
we've all but forgotten
.......how it was before!
the slamming of your doors
can't keep me out
conscious lyrik I'll spout
we must bail out
sort the wheat from the chaffe
sort the good from the bad

let me ask you.......who's SAD?
McFreudian....Babble-onian...
seasonally  adjusted BAD
Chemi-cooly...orange-juicey....SAD

INTEL-ectual-OTOMY
******­-monotony
Dot-com-fuckology
must catch a fire
dreaming spires......
.......and vampires
Ride the wire
we got to get higher
..............higher
higher than high

Try this for size
the slavemaster's disguise
is the mirror in our eyes
and it should come as no surprise
that life's greatest prize
is the life that you've got

yes life's greatest prize
is the life that you've got
ExtinctionRebellion OneLove aparthied
Jun 2019 · 263
BLOOMSDAY
johnny solstice Jun 2019
At ringend on june sixteenth nineteen hundred and four
                                                                     Molly opens her door
and Literate Leopold plonks his kosher black pudding into her hand
                                                                                        Isn't it grand
                                                                 to be remembered this way?
Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children
Searching for meat on O'Connel streeet that has the tang of scented *****
The well known literate degenerates
long to have  their hot-dogs stroked by baaaaaaaaaarnacles
whilst sellin' knick-nack Paddywackery of dear old ***** dumpling
                     How do they walk with her sausages
                                  and inner organs  of beasts and fowls?
their shanks ****** dry of whuskey on Denny's big breakfast show
                Well **** your ****! With a flame-grilled
                                                                       samuel
                                                                                 becket burger
                                                                             and a side order
                                                                       of oscar wilde fries

"warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yeilded amid rumpled clothes.
Whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils arched themselves for prey. Melting breast ointments.
Armpits oniony sweat .
Fishgluey slime.
Feel!
Press!
Crushed!
Sulphur dung of lions
Young!  Young!

                 In the petri-
                               Pish
                               Pish
                               Pish
                               Dish
spitoon culture
           the illiteraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaati
                                      hold a party
                  
                "I'm a tiny tiny thing
                     Ever flying in the spring
                       Round and round a ringaring
                                                  Long ago I was king
                                        Now I do this kind of thing
                                     On the wing, onnnnnnnn the wing!"
                                                    Bing!

Professor Latelate Lateshow Late review
Was talking to ME……..        about yew
What do yew think of that aesthetic crew?
                                  The opal hush poets?
                                   The master mystiks?
The wanz thit
       *** to me
          in the sma' oors
               o the mournin'
                    tae ask aboot
                       plains o consciousness?

They're all Barbers, says he, from the Black Country that would hang their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses!

In Dublin's fine city
Where the wine bars are pretty
You can't find an ashtray
You must smoke alone.

                                                                                  Isn't it grand
                                                               To be remembered this way
Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children?
Jun 2019 · 275
F-Watch
johnny solstice Jun 2019
When the door slams they put a name and number card outside,
it has a large red F stamped on it.
This is  called “F-Watch”…it means they think you’re suicidal!!!!
They check every 15mins…
..fif..teen minutes…
.try to stay calm!….focus on a constant!
…OK….focus
Right…..focus….every 15mins I jump out of my skin!
What causes that?
…..it feels like a habit…
BANG!
There it goes again…
the eyeball in the door…
unblinking…
staring at my shape on the floor…
little does the eye know…I have dug a tunnel…
it reaches beyond the wall and the fence…
it reaches far past the range of the CCTV……
it surfaces deep in the forest
all I need to do is close my eyes
and I’m running down that tunnel
which increases in size every time I use it…
the exit is via a door in an ancient oak tree…
above the door, neatly carved is my family name
and an hour-glass of salt
that is always 15 mins from running out…
I create a mind-map that helps me
find my way back through the forest
to the tree in time to keep my appointment
with the eye…

the unblinking eye…
assesses my body
sprawled on the rubber mattress,
unaware of the trees that surround me …
that protect me
that shield me from its Gorgon gaze…
and days pass into months
and the months flutter toward the light
which lays on the other side of the darkness…
darkness being a measure in old money.

Then just as suddenly
I find myself reprieved…
relocated for two eternities
to the Mirrored Halls
of the Black Widow
to absolve the sins of my forefathers…
the eye in the door blinks
something is different…
the eye now has the a sense smell!

and it can detect female pheromones
3 days ride away by horse…
it smells Norse…and Celt……
it smells ……
it smells…
its own mortality…

15 minutes pass……

it blinks again…
it breathes deeply and detects children…
two born of royal blood and one of angels…
it blinks…
the body on the mattress moves…
it stretches…
turns over…

now  the eye can hear…
it hears the rustle of leaves,
smells breast milk and skunk
from the sweat of the punk…
an assault to its senses…
it primes its defenses…
and…
releases a tear…
a solitary tear …
laden with just enough salt
to take its pain away…

time passes…
the hourglass releases one more grain of salt
johnny solstice Jun 2019
He lived too many floors from street level for his advanced years but Ambrose grew up in a time when one did not complain over loudly in case one’s right to complain be taken away.
The last Social Worker to visit had sported an Aldermaston CND badge on his lapel and an air of indifference that Ambrose took to be a sign that now was not the time to raise the topic of his hip vis-a-vis the six flights of rickety stairs. So he would soldier on and thank heaven that there was always Sunday and Johnny.

Ambrose considered his “friendship” with Johnny the ******, and with a sigh, concluded that their relationship was akin to those between tiny birds who peck morsels from large carnivores.

Johnny was a teenage runaway who, not yet passed puberty and well short of 5ft tall, weighed in at 82lbs .The transaction was simple. On Sunday, he would cook a dinner for them both in exchange Johnny would help Ambrose into the bath and bathe him.

There had been a time when the indignity was real but now he would lay awake listening to the late night sound of Soho drift up to his rooms where red and blue neon light danced on his ceiling and imagine he could feel those young hands run over his cold loose skin. When he closed his eyes he could see the young ******, stripped to the waist, soap and sponge in his hands, at the foot of his bed …he ached for the boy’s sensitive touch. Those magical fingertips, those taut sinews, and hairless torso seemed so wonderfully innocent and pure to Ambrose but he hated the purple and yellow bruises that waxed and waned on the boy’s arms  with each successive visit.

Once he’d watched as Johnny banged at his vein demanding it rise for his spike…but as the first deep red cloud bloodied the fix Ambrose shut his eyes tight and felt the cold air of Northern France on his face…his ears flooded with screams and explosions as his brothers lay around him, their blood seeping into the brown ankle deep mud in long river-like branches.

Johnny didn’t understand why Ambrose cried but thought it must be memories or stuff that old people think about?

Some times, as the rush cascaded through his soul, he found himself crying too but didn’t know why…only that it felt warm and when it stopped he had a feeling for the old geezer that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, which would lead to him hugging the old fool and would only then break down and rage about things long locked away…then Ambrose would stroke the boy’s hair “teens are a bad time for men” he’d say while wishing he too was blessed with failing memory.

Forty-five years later someone said a simple word that flicked a light switch in a tiny garret room in Soho and Johnny got a tiny sliver of his memory back, picked up his pen lest he should ever lose his old friend again.
Jun 2019 · 1.1k
Uncle Hector
johnny solstice Jun 2019
Well Uncle Hector space detector
Interstellar super-sleuth
Found an egg among the needles
Then he knew he’d found the truth
The Tree of Life was his for eating
Alchemists could all go bleating
Scientists got glimpses, fleeting
Of futures and the past

Said Uncle Hector with a grin
“hey Mr Church, come talk of sin…..
come tell me how it was again
before the fall from Grace?”

Come let us PLAY in inner space
Lets ride the reindeer in the sky
Lets hold the Holy Grail up high
And forever wonder why?
It came to this
Betrayed by a Kiss

Try not to miss
A rendezvous with ISIS
Early morning meditation
Searching for the King of Kings
And all of her Disciples
Through time and space our children float
Wearing Technicolor  Dream-coats
Sailing in psychedelic lakes
Of celestial Double Takes

In rowing boats of Entheogens
We head for the shore
And the open door
Inside the DOME
The cranial dome
The pleasure dome
Our only home
Our only hope
The Cosmic Joke
The double Helix

Can you feel it?
Can you hear it?
Can you see it?
Can you taste it?
Does it abide in you?
Can you abide in it?
Can you decipher ****?
Can you swallow it?
And try not to forget
That it is not HE or SHE or IT
Or THIS or THAT
Or THEN or NOW
Or WHY? Or HOW?
Just a sacred cow
Passing grass through the Trinity
Farting gas into infinity
Making connections with eternity
With the knowledge of certainty
That we are all divine entities
Who’ve lost our identity
Robbed of our divinity
Left without dignity
A tragedy
A parody
Of what we used to be!

Can you read the parable?
Can you hear the clarion
Alarm bells ringing?
Angels singing
In hyperspace
Spores ascending to a higher phase
A blue-green planet
With an equatorial archipelago
Shows you how it goes
Right under your nose
Don’t watch the skies
Looking for spies
Electronic lies
World wide web
Out to catch flies
Books on thighs
Held up high
Wonder why?…..
Dogs in mangers
Create dangers
Universal Lone Rangers
On snow-white horses
Giving us our Daily Bread

Uncle Hector space detector
Rides his magic carpet
Through Milky Ways
And Galaxies
Of pleasure and ecstasy
Out past Andromeda
Past infinite possibilities
Of possible infinities

To wondrous worlds
Where dreams unfurl
On one foot he whirls
The universe he twirls
On his index finger
The spheres he holds
To make them SING
To make the very planets RING
Reminds him of the King
Who gave him this freedom
To travel this Queendom
Of  inner space
And vanish without trace
Without the confines of memory
Without learnt behaviour
Without  a saviour
Without a redeemer
Within a dreamer
A dreamer dreams
And seems
To those without
To be or not to be
The essence of us all.

So Unkle Hektor space detector
Interstellar world selector
Drinks ambrosia laced with NECTAR
And sails on seas to  NINEVEH
To foretell them of their future
Avoids capture within the belly
Of the mighty whale
And sets sail
In a force-ten gale
Does Uncle Hector
SPACE DETECTOR

Lands in a meadow unseen
Blossoms on the unclean
Surfaces in the GREEN
Passes through the WHITE
Passes through the RED
Searching VIOLET LIGHT

And Uncle Hector space detector
Steers himself back home
Back through the chilling dome
back through the future zone
back through the past alone
till at last
he’s back
among the STARS
From where it all began

And Uncle Hector space detector
Lays softly down to sleep
And dreams of blue-green planets
Spinning in the deep
Blue-black INFINITY
Has GNOSIS of his DIVINITY
Beams a smile that warms infinity
And giggles in his sleep
Yes Uncle Hector space detector
Pan-dimensional interjector
Stoops down low to choose a connector
In a meadow in his dreams

And Uncle Hector
Space detector
Detects an “X” factor
That can heal his “WHY”
And wherefore……
And therefore Uncle Hector gets a healing
Most revealing
Truth concealing
Holy *****
Falls from heaven
In our Daily Bread!
Then Uncle Hector wakes and rises
Expands his lungs and exercises

Give thanks to all who know his song
And everyone who came along to hear these words
And carry on the raising of the consciousness
Of  everything and everyone
And carry on the raising of the consciousness
Of  everything and everyone
Jun 2019 · 94
Winter
johnny solstice Jun 2019
When I was young the days and nights lasted forever
Now my days gallop away like Dartmoor ponies
into the mists of time
spent much “time” looking for rhyme
………and reason
spoutin’ lyric about treason
writing conscious words from my heart
not caring for the art
of word-smithery
and all of it’s trickery
shunning fame and it’s gimmickery
trying to learn lessons from history
waking up to find the mystery
was no mystery……after all

Now the leaves start to fall
and another year has gone
I’m still searching for that song
….the one that got away
the one where I got to say
how much I loved you…!

But the days slip into years
Memory rusts with my tears
Jun 2019 · 251
Chrome Yellow
johnny solstice Jun 2019
The smoke that swirled up from her pipe
hung there in the air, partly obscuring her face

With cupped hands she began
    to gather the smoke
  as if it were sand on the beach

Very carefully she began stroking
and teasing it until it appeared
to be taking on the properties of a solid

What had been the contents of her lungs
moments before, were now compressed
to the size of a tennis-ball

This blue-grey sphere hung there between
us like some strange smoke-filled soap-bubble

As I began to open my mouth to say something
a sword the size of a pin flew from my lips, and
burst the bubble whereupon the smoke fell
to the floor like fine white snow…….

          “…don’t you know?” she said, with a grin,
         “…that’s just the way that wars begin!”

As she refilled the pipe with twigs and weeds
she raised one eye-brow and a voice somewhere
between us said…..
”so you want to find yourself,do you?……..
don’t you know that talking to yourself
is the first sign of ’SANITY?”….

“And with that my mouth
involuntarily said “FORKS”
but the sound didn’t come
instead
    from the side of her bed
came the unmistakable sound of forks falling on a
wooden floor…….and everything began to rhyme
   then I heard the chime of her quartz clock
a rooster appeared, with an immense ****
                               ……..attached to it’s head
                                    by the wind it is lead
                   but East is opposite North instead

  then she scooped it up
    and it turned to twigs..
before my eyes could adjust….
…….the phosphorous flash of IGNITION
                     the firey INQUISITION
As she relit the pipe, with what seemed to be
             my thoughts and dreams made real
                                        in solid words
                                            in solid air
                             I cried in deep despair
                   for the weight of untold shame
                             that showered like rain
                   on those who could not explain
                                         their own pain
                           on those trapped in shame
                               those crucified for vain
                           making everyone to blame
                                             for MY pain
                                    which falls like rain
                                into her upturned hand
                                   where it forms a lake
                                     called “my mistake”

Based on a lack or something missing
                     I can hear the hissing
                          of the black snake
                  the guardian of the gate
                 my birthright to legislate
                catch fire before my eyes
                 as  another dreamy spire
                 of grey-blue smoke…….
                     …….rises into the void
for a brief moment the only rhyme is
            PARANOID

             but just as quickly it is gone

As the pipe glows then rises musical notes pour
from its bowl as if the Mistral wind itself were
blowing through the embers.
Upon inhaling I am surprised to find that my
companion has been joined by Oscar Wilde…
heavily, theatricaly disguised as an empty chair
    with accompanying wall-paper

This observation becomes solid in the air
and suddenly there are chairs everywhere
in my pockets, in my pipe, in my hair…..
chairs of every size and type and colour everywhere
no standing room, just chair upon chair upon chair

“Collect your thoughts” said Oscar Wilde
to me, as if I was a naughty child
So, slowly, I gather the chairs together
with cupped hands, like sand, into one single chair
then lay my pipe upon it to make it real
from behind the canvas I step….my hands reveal
PAINT AND BRUSH
IN SUCH A RUSH
                       GRIND AND CRUSH
                                       YELLOW OCHRE
                                                    CHROME YELLOW
                                                              yell “HELLO!”
                                        ’”HELLO!”
                          “HELLO!”

“    “….have you fallen in love with that pipe?” asks the chair
       As I stare…
            yellow sunflowers everywhere
festoon the walls, the floor, the chair…..
                 elsewhere…
there's rubber clothes and x-ray hair
           starry nights and daymares
         loveless thighs and derrieres
          cut price love unguaranteed
    sure-fire ways to dispose of seed
right now…… with GREED-SPEED
            rivers of come, knee-deep
            bed’s on fire…..can’t sleep
cut off my ears but they won’t bleed
               instead they turn to ****
which I place on the chair with the pipe
and invite my companion to take her feed
      
   “…don’t mind if I do” she replies
  “…but must we forever sit inside?”
“..not far from here I think I spied”
“… a cornfield……some countryside..”
“we could walk far, and near, and wide
then round and left and right outside
till darkness falls upon our heads…..
  and sends us scurrying for our beds”

But sleep won’t come
because some elektronik hum
is buzzing in the walls
makes me shiver in my *****
till my spirit-level falls
and my skin begins to crawl
off my body,….up the walls
         reality DISSOLVES
………skinned alive on a granite rock
……beneath the stars of future-shock

                 alone…….
with billions of others
           with no cover
other …than the cold blankets of mist
        that hiss
           from the wounds in my wrist
         reality persists

              CAN MY SOUL RESIST?

          WILL MY HEART DESIST?

FROM BEATING IN MY BREAST

WILL MY BONES STAND THE TEST?

…….or will they crumble like the rest?

                             and be blessed

                                        by her

          as she smokes me in her pipe ….

               I am scorched by her love

         that comes raining from above

                   into my upturned hand

        and when I can no longer stand

               another day another night

                  in this lifetime of fright

                 and I want to take flight

               I drink her from my hand

like fresh spring water on a summer’s day

                      she makes my head sway

              to the natural rhythm

               of her breath……..

                 of her smoke…..

                   of her hair……..

                     of her chair….

        of ANYWHERE

      where she is…..



She gives me back my skin

         fills me to her brim

then strikes another match

and draws me deep inside

till I can no longer hide…

      my grin, a mile wide

   I’m safe here inside

          ………outside

         ………inside

     THE VOID….
Jun 2019 · 487
I met a man…
johnny solstice Jun 2019
I met a man who could recite all twenty three thousand
lines of the “Romance of the Rose” but could not count to five.

I met a man who could recite PI to one thousand decimal points
but could not find a rhyme for love nor money

I met a man who laughed at every thing that wasn’t funny
I met another who cried for ever because he was happy

and another who laughed at his pain
and one who lost all he’d gained
I met a man who sailed the ocean blue
in  search of pastures blue

He told me he was searching for the “begining of the end”
so I sold him a postcard and he nailed it to the mast
then I stepped into his past
and went to meet his King
who was laying on the ground
whilst his bodyguards around
put the boot into him
like L.A. droogs with Rodney King
history just sings
endlessly repeating itself
forever shedding it’s skin
cleansing the kin
thinning and culling
and making a date with SIN……
……..ACTIC FOLLY

I met a woman who remembered
what life was like before Adam
I met a woman whose hair scattered rainbows everywhere
as she danced in the moonlight
I met a woman who was me and she set me free
I met a man who could measure words to the nth degree
he taught me heresy
and how to pray
and how to give it all away
then he asked me to pay
for HIS  fathers crimes
so I said “NO WAY”
and later that day
he tied me to the wheel
but I refused to feel
and I swore to heal
the wounds of my inquisitor

Well I met a man who said “I khan
unite all the nomads on the land”
he said “I’ll lay it all to waste
and the rivers shall taste
worse than ****** waste”
so I went to see my Mother
to ask if there was any other
WAY
to gain an extra day?
as the climate starts to sway
She said “have your say….
…..then be on your way”

Well I met a man and he taught me how to surf
on the crust of molten magma
and I met a little boy
who taught me the joy
of playing in inner space

Well I met a man from the future
travelling back in time
who said “excuse me Mr. RHYME?”
“…but I’ve come from a time
where wrappers are disposable
parts of a product”
“careful how you juggle
your verbs and your vowels
may get you into trouble”
so I burst his bubble
with a “sword” that I drew
from my grandmothers sock
which came as a shock
to the “thought police”
who were waiting in the street
with their “crosswords” COCKED
and their ’double entendres “ primed
looking for some crime
of the cerebral kind

but I met this woman
who said ” climb into my body and come with me
to the Ancesters tree
so I climbed aboard and I clung on tight
as her body rose to the highest height
and she showed me what might
or might not come to pass
then she lowered me down
by the hem of her gown
called me her “linguistic clown”
which made me frown
as I looked all around
to see where she’d gone
and a voice from the past said
“look inside your head
she is not dead
haven’t you read
a word that you’ve said?”

I met a woman who scattered rainbows from her hair
I met a woman who was me and she set me free
Jun 2019 · 204
GOD IS
johnny solstice Jun 2019
God is everywhere
God is in the meadows full of flowers
God is the child locked in a cupboard
God is with the dolphins in the sea
God is at the heart of all atrocity
God is full of benevolent kindness
God is plagued by selective blindness
God is the name of our inner peace
God is the bomber and the bomb released
God is the congregation deep in prayer
God is the cleanser, the killer, the slayer
God is the sound of children laughing
God is the train now departing
God is the question to all the answers
God is the famine and the eco-disaster
God is the breast-milk from the mother
God is the oil-slick sea-life smother
God is the oil that fuels the lamp
God is the guard in a concentration camp
God is the abundance of fruit on a tree
God is the maker of child-*******
         God is good........God is bad
         God is happy.......God is sad
         God is living........God is dead
God is everywhere inside your head
God is everyone you've ever met
God is horribly the best thing yet
God is no-one and all things as well
God is innocent and guilty as hell
God is is the answer to all our prayers
God is the darkness at the foot of the stairs
God is a poet.....a juggler of words
God is THE AUDIENCE
            ..........HOW ABSURD
Jun 2019 · 275
FAIRY BUBBLES
johnny solstice Jun 2019
In my fairy garden
the bubbles fly so high
they blow into the atmosphere
and neutralise the sky

My fairy bubbles help my skin
they soften and they glow
they transmutate the sea-life
till extinction bids them "Go"

My lovely fairy bubbles
take my washday blues away
they saunter down my plughole
and drift into the bay

They poison and they modify
with each outgoing tide
They brighten up the logos
in the land of paranoid

Well my whites are so much whiter
since I bought my fairy friend
I give no **** for politics
I flush it round the bend

My clothes must be the cleanest
like the ones on my T.V.
A speck of dust a fleck of mud
is social leprosy

So lets all use our faries
and wash our blues away
let's forget about the ocean
and the price that we must pay

As the sea-life gets much rarer
from the toxic fairy sludge
ask yourself some questions
give your conscience a little nudge

This is the land of plenty
for all and not just one
Your cleaning and your preening
are blotting out the sun

"......for hands that do dishes
may one day grab your throat....
....buy Mind-Need-Fancy-Snake-****....."
Jun 2019 · 90
DANCING WITH THE ROOSTER
johnny solstice Jun 2019
my love and i go dancing
dancing in the rain
around the bells of midnight
we gamble with our pain

my love and  i go dancing
dancing in the rain
amongst the dew of isis
we bed down with the grain

yes my love and i go dancing
every now and then
around the bells of midnight
the rooster and his hen

well we dance the dance of ages
we circle round the stones
we rhyme the world to reason
and catch the first bus home

yes my love and i go dancing
through the cities late at night
we dance the dance of destiny
till the early morning light

and when we've danced our two-step
we huddle in the rain
we gamble with our heartache
and then we dance again

yes my love and i go dancing
through rivers seas and clouds
we kick the mule of reason
in our tie-dye funeral shrouds

yes my love and i go dancing
every now and then
around the bells of midnight
the rooster and his hen
Jun 2019 · 1.4k
Starfish
johnny solstice Jun 2019
Starfish we were, and golden eyed

Strings of memory, before ever we cried

Starfish we were, two snakes entwined

Coded language, divinity enshrined.



Starfish we were, Five pointed stars

from the heart of the apple, Venus and Mars

starfish we were, all connected together

fractals reduced to the vein of a feather



starfish we were, from our toes to our hands

our DNA helix in the quartz of the sands

from mountain to sea-bed and up to the stars

the heart of our matter, of how we’ve come far



starfish we were, there’s no going back

what we desire, is not what we lack

starfish we were and golden eyed

coded language, divinity enshrined
Jun 2019 · 308
Drip, Drip, Dip…
johnny solstice Jun 2019
these words are dedicated to the six children who will die in the time it takes to read them in the so-called “third-world” (due to the practices of Powdered Baby Milk manufacturers)  



Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pipe

in the shanty town

as the young mothers gather round

plastic containers on the ground

listening to the drip, drip, drip

of life ebbing away



the riverbeds have all dried up

the wells are mine-shafts to the past

the irrigation channels of their *******

are polluted now by the Cuckoo’s Nest



the powdered-milk…the dust-bowl fields

the quotas met……the land reveals

the hand that rocks this cradle

is the one who lays the table

with “third-world” debt their able

to rob  and disable



as the dehydrated bodies blow away like ashes

the multi-national fascists……..

with vampire banks decashes

the breast-milk of the masses

with a ****** drip, drip, drip



from the ******* of the mothers

the corporations smother….

the babies in their sleep

the cuckoo comes as a thief

with a free sample and a brief

case full of deceit…………



may I make a suggestion?

“ASK SOME QUESTIONS”



As you eat your chocolate

and drink your coffee

and smear ice-cream on your lovers body

and NESTLE down to the land of noddy

to dream of countless trucks and lorries

ferrying the cow-juice and the slurry

burning the forests in such a hurry



more cattle and cash and burn and $lash

leaves a gaping ****

in the dried-up flesh of Mother Earth

and 4000 babies every year

yes 4000 babies every year

return to the DUST….

BOWL…………..BREAKFAST BOWL

CEREAL BOWL……….SERIAL CRIME

CORN and MILK spells CORPORATE CRIME

dished up for your children’s bellies

in front of telly-tubby tellies



Chocolate bars and candy treats

robbed from the swollen teats

of mutated udders

whilst the cow’s baby brothers

are herded into crates

and served on rich men’s plates

the mothers stand and wait

and listen to the rate

of the DRIP

DRIP

DRIP

of spilled milk down the drain

the governments explain

and bury their shame

under mountains of grain

and excess champagne



and if you BEG

you get Easter eggs instead

served up by the “head”

whose saviour bled

with a steady DRIP

DRIP

DRIP



and I scream and jelly

and biscuits and cakes

make bovine mistakes

and cheesy diseases

from the milk that turns sour

reminds us every hour

of this CATTLE CULTURE HERESY

of babies dying constantly

with a DRIP

DRIP

DRIP
Jun 2019 · 76
Think!
johnny solstice Jun 2019
It is only by thinking things out as one lives them,
and living things out as one thinks them
that a wo /man or society
can be said to think or live at all

Ideas are what count,
the important thing is not who has them
but what is done with them.

Thinking is the function of living,
then the most important thing to do is live.
If we learn by living,
then we also think by creating.
Space—like time—engenders forgetfulness
—but it does so by setting us ****** free
from our surroundings
and giving us back our primitive state.

Love Life & Unity
Jun 2019 · 191
The Garden
johnny solstice Jun 2019
The garden’s overgrown now

The poppies gone to seed

The flowerbeds run over

And all is choked by weeds



No-ones done the pruning

And the pond is stagnant slime

The brambles are encroaching

Too late for weeding time



The fields have gone to fallow

The veg no longer food

The fruit has started rotting

And the bees have left for good



The birds no longer singing

The river has dried up

Nothing is worth eating

And nowt is safe to sup



There’s autumn leaves in springtime

Desolation all around

There is no milk and honey

Or beauty to be found



Outside the gates of Eden

Adam sits and weeps

An aching in his ribcage

An apple at his feet
johnny solstice Jun 2019
Once upon a time and tide
When many trees grew tall and wide
And sunny days were snuggly warm
When people walked with happy face
And giggle mouth among the ferns
And shrubs and lavender
And hollyhock and hunnysuckle

When all the light was dappled
When bellies were pie-appled
And hunnytree was for hunnybee
And daisies gently stroked our knees
And buttercups were twelve foot three
And mushyrooms turned upside-down
Made lovely boats for sailing round
The lake on a summers day

Oh once upon a time and tide
When many trees grew tall and wide
In wintertime the Leshy died
Or so it seemed to those indoors
Who'd forgotten how to walk
Because come the spring
The woods shall ring
With the laughter of the Leshy
They never die, just return anew
To make the forest sing

Oh once upon a time and tide
Oh once upon a time and tide

Leshy looked like me and you
Except of course their skin was blue
And their hair was of a greenish hue
Which hung in matted locks it grew

Oh once upon a time and tide
Oh once upon a time and tide

The Leshy walked on earthly mother
Guided by their heavenly fathers
Drawn along by sista moon
And the secrets of the stars

and once upon a time and tide
when many trees grew tall and wide
when everybody lived outside
then everyone was Leshy

Oh once upon a time and tide
Oh once upon a time and tide

Now migration paths have all but gone
To people who decide what's wrong
Who make the laws for standing still
And legislate which slaves may ****

Oh once upon a time and tide
Oh once upon a time and tide

Now every where’s a prison coz it has a door
And the closest place to heaven is lying on the floor
Outside of doors
Inside the world
Inside your head
The softest bed
Where you can lie
And learn to fly
And float and fall
And remember it all
And remember it all

Oh once upon a time and tide
Oh once upon a time and tide

When many trees grew tall and wide
And everyone lived outside
And buttercups were twelve foot three
And we were children you and me
And all were children you must agree
That there never was any "poverty"
Till lazybones invented "property"
Plus building houses and staying put
And chopping trees and hoarding loot
Till there's nothing left that looks like wood
There's no out side
Its inside out
And upside down
And back to front
So there's nothing better left to do
Than swap your shoes and take your cue
Then turn your clothing inside out
And show your labels as you shout
For more and more of less and less
And more and more of less and less
Means less and less for evermore
And no more trees means no more bees
And no more bees means no more seed
And no more seed means no more home
And no more home means you and me
Have got to see
If you want to live with trees
Then a nomad you must be
If you want to live with trees
Yes a nomad you must be
If you want to live with trees

And if you want to see the trees
Grow tall and strong and wide
You'll have to learn to live outside

And once upon a time and tide
When many trees grew tall and wide
Your giggle face you'd never hide
Your chuckle tum will ever show
So everyone shall ever know
That inside out is where you are
And life outside is best by far
And happy on the outside
Means happy on the inside

Oh once upon a time and tide
Oh once upon a time and tide
Jun 2019 · 493
Lion and the Lamb
johnny solstice Jun 2019
As I stand here today……
Bone of my bones, blood of my blood
Man, son of woman, long before flood
Long before Bible, Torah, Koran
Long before war, long before man
Long in the darkness, long in the night
Long before fear, long before fright
Long before flesh, long before blood
Deep in the water, deep in the mud
Down in the magma, right at the core
One gentle lamb with a lion's roar
johnny solstice Jun 2019
Riding through the night on my three legged horse
Green light dancing in the land of the Norse
One eye closed and one wise open
Runewise led and mantras spoken

Over hills and through the valleys
Charting the stars and keeping a tally
On to the daybreak, on through the night
Down through the lowlands, up to the heights

Down through the ages, since the beginning of time
Delivering apples to redress a crime
Left brain and right brain, one yin and yang
Back to the oneness of how it began

Molecular biology, two snakes entwined
One-eyed kings in the land of the blind
Remember tomorrow and foretell the past
What was in the beginning shall be in the last
Jun 2019 · 116
The Garden
johnny solstice Jun 2019
The garden's overgrown now
The poppies gone to seed
The flowerbeds run over
And all is choked by weeds

No-ones done the pruning
And the pond is stagnant slime
The brambles are encroaching
Too late for weeding time

The fields have gone to fallow
The veg no longer food
The fruit has started rotting
And the bees have left for good

The birds no longer singing
The river has dried up
Nothing is worth eating
And nowt is safe to sup

There's autumn leaves in springtime
Desolation all around
There is no milk and honey
Or beauty to be found

Outside the gates of Eden
Adam sits and weeps
An aching in his ribcage
An apple at his feet
Jun 2019 · 175
Red Moon
johnny solstice Jun 2019
"One day the inevitable shall come to pass"
said the ancients.

The moon shall one night rise in the sky, blood-red
the moon shall seem like it is on fire,

The animals shall look up afraid
the whales deep in the ocean shall sense a
pink glow at the surface.

The birds will sit silent in the trees
people shall fall on their knees where ever they are,

And gaze upon the glory of mans achievement,
as the moons surface blinks.........
       ..DRINK COCA COLA
Jun 2019 · 407
Midsummer's eve
johnny solstice Jun 2019
Eck Ramsay, a retired underwire manufacturer,
bought a boil in the bag cod slice at his local Spar shop.
Upon removal of its cardboard outer garments
he was surprised to find it contained a small book.
The book titled the Plaice of Cod
(a philosophical treatise on theology)
contained many essays on the ancient rites of summer,
several of which were wildly inaccurate
and a few that were accurately wild.
In the appendix there were twenty-three songs
attributed to a medieval troubadour,
who led a travelling medicine show called the Rollwrong Stones.
  
William Lancaster Blake built himself a chocolate castle
on a hollow hill and sold it to his mate Bill,
a scribbler of worthy words who wrote of the hills and lakes
and how long it takes for the ghosts of soldiers to cross the fells especially when led by centaurs.
  
Self-proclaimed king, My Other Pen drags on,
took to haranguing passers-by with tales of dancing seals
and Jewish fiddlers who wouldn’t play marriages on the Sabbath, and how the wedding guests always got ******.

Stan Tony and Drew made up the crew
which some say numbered sixty-nine
or seventy-two, but no-one could swear
how many were there especially
on the Whispering Nights……… when nothing seemed right
and the cattle lowed on their knees.
And the slightest breeze on a pewter plate
would vanish the seed that couldn’t be seen,
and dreamers would dream
of jumping through flames
that carried the names
of those who were soon to be dead.

Goats head soup
with yarrow root
was served to the guests …..whose favourite request
was Wort of Sacred Johnny,
they'd dance all night …..till the Isis light
sent the Oak root bones …..scurrying home
to the place where the days are shorter.
When the dew on the grass  …..comes to pass
and the herbs have been nailed to the doorway,
when the heron's been kissed…and all are well dressed
and the False ones only moved slightly
the cuckoos will sing. "a new day I bring"
and the treetops will shake with the dancers
the day is but done and the Knights just begun
to get a little bit longer.
   But stranger than this was the wish of the dish that had it away with the spoon. "hey.. kat play that fiddle"
And riddle me no riddle
I need to get high as the moon….
"which moon?" enquired the hare "Kieth or the very Reverent moon?"
"Oh either will do…. Their just different shoes
to the ones I'm currently wearing"
and with no more ado…… Stan Tony and Drew
the Stones roadie crew
withdrew
for the next seven years
their horses drank tears
and everyone's fears
were fried up for breakfast
with marmalade toast
two sausage
mushrooms
and beans
eggs over easy
rashers done crispy
a fried slice or two
and a teapot of glue
to ensure it stuck to the belly.

The mushrooms of course enjoyed these proceedings to such an extent that they were inspired to compose poems praising the nights adventures, these were subsequently published in the society pages of the Lost and Found trade journal.
Jun 2019 · 298
Bilsdean Creek 1960
johnny solstice Jun 2019
down bilsdean creek where fresh and salt water meet
the bladderwrack rehydrating incoming tide chases
tiny trout upstream  to the overhanging hazel branch
sanctuary of dappled dancing sunlight where they flit
back and forth under the ever watchful kingfisher
shimmering blue glints of nervous anticipation

by whelk denuded tidal pools, Freddy the refugee
with his rusty bike, tin can kettle and bent safety pin
waits patiently for his stream water to boil
a hip flask of vinegar and folded envelope of pepper
are produced with theatrical flourish from a tattered
baling twine belted overcoat and placed on the rock

from Fife the haunting groans of the fog horns echo
around the mist cloaked cliffs where Glasgow boys
once set up their easels and squeezed red ochre
onto pallettes of roof slate to sing praises to nature
the water boils in the smoke blackened tin can
the mussels open in surrender among the whelks
the tide inches forward grinding empty shells to sand

— The End —