they want to take my toys away
'cos I won't play the game their way
but they don't understand my vision
see through my eyes of contradiction
the gatekeepers have closed their realm
standing strong for what they believe in
I know they'll never let me pass
they have a hatred that's deep entrenched
I'll carry on regardless though
in my one man delusional show

the weather has changed
storm clouds overhead
while wars rage across the land
men women and children
indiscriminately die
for the cause of peace
that no one seems to find
the weather has changed
battle carried to the skies
we fight our own environment
all of us on the losing side

we never put lampshades
on all the lights in this house
I'm never sure if we meant
to stay or if we we're always
looking for a way out

words are drawn out of me
like sweat from a fevered mind
droplets staining the page
as they release inky diseased meaning
I must purge this sickness
give it some release
before it kills me from the inside

People who really know me ask, “Do you still write?”
“Oh yeah,” I say, “I’ve never been more inventive or less relevant.”

unparalleled views across town
from fourth floor windows
taking in the changing autumn landscape
(an estate agent's *******)
the quiet room where moments
are spent contemplating a life ending
visitors wondering will you be here
for their return in the morning
but you survived your Armageddon
against all medical expectation
tenacious old man
a shadow of who you used to be
with a whisper of a future

I scream at the demons
pushing over indiscriminate objects
tripping me through clear doorways
knocking things from my feeble hands
laughing constantly in my head
like evil clowns