It's not at all sophisticated
Or worthy
It has a metre that I really like
And even when
It's odour has an edge
I find distasteful
I'm a sucker
For the things
I can't buy

And once again
I failed to see it early
Something so blatant
beginging to unfold
But by that time
you had captured my heart
And so
I had treasure untold.

It's been a bit flat and murky of late
Like the country
Fixed under a cloud
That's not metaphorical
Political or arch
It's meteorological
But you know
Nudge nudge
Anyhow

But

The light and the air
This morn
Are truly a joy to behold
Like a childhood summer holiday
When the world was at peace
And all the sweet chestnuts of old

When freedom and sunshine
Stretched on endlessly
The morning telly
Exotic and grand
I think I'll turn it on now
And see if it's still there
Hopefully
ONCE UPON A TIME MAN!

I think you know
What that is
So why would
You go into?

What
You assume
Is the thing
That releases
The new you


Where we would go?
But then again
You presume
Just what we know
The ******
Of course
Is the thing
That is exactly
What we do


Then you know
Just what you are
And the **** we got into
Hardly the best
Of what we care about
Is this thing
That makes you
You?

I don't know about you
You don't know about me too
When we meet there's the loath
That I don't feel about you
And then I suppose you feel it
But I can never be sure
We view ourselves
So completely unpure
And why should we
What have we done from this mark
I see your shadow
Poor defined in the dark.

Lobbing grenades
Off of the summit o Everest
Trying to bomb the *******
Just Like Kenny Everett
But the fuse is too short
They just burst in the air
He  don't live at the peak
He's somewhere down there

Milney has been planning
This Trek for years
Like some frozen Ahab
Blind to the cares
Of family and friends
Who deny his obsession
Deeply frightened by his souls possession

He teamed up
With a crack squad
Of hard Buddhist monks
Who will joyfully participate
In killing the ****
For centuries now he has murdered their kin
They will end  what the beast did begin

For these priests know how to swing a sword
You might have seen them treading the boards
At you local theatre
But this is real
They will end this monster
And his skin they will peel
Off of his bones
And his carcass they'll stuff
To display at the inn
So we'll know soon enough
If milne was successful
All ****** and sweaty
As he asks at the bar
ARE YOU OPEN YETI?

In a former church
With friends
After a boozey train ride
A transient slide into
A magnificent side show
Of another's life
She want you to look into
The family bond
Of the performance
The beauty
Of the
Respondence
The glide on the way home

And completely untenneable
The things that
Separates the daily
From the utterly
Undeniable
It moves the masses
When the obverse'
Gets thrown at the floor
Like the the time
When your mammy
Made that movie
And they called her an *****.

There's a sweet silver hue on the grass this morn
Soft defracted through the dew
A warm misty drift is formed
Soundtracked by the pigeons
Moaning low
A quiet transcendent being is born
The briefest of existence
Magnifies it's vague brilliance
As a cloud bank rolls over
And screens it for awhile
You know that it's still there
A bulwark against the care
That been persistently nagging you
To be alive
But when the sun appears again
something has know changed
It's flattened out
All joy gone south
Your eyes cast down
And once again
Yourself you do chide.

If you break your spuds
After the boil
Before the roast
Just a bit
With the back of a spoon
They will take on
A hidden flavour
More than
Salt
Oil
And vinegar can bloom
Soaking
And grinding in
With steam as an ally
Fluffing carbohydrates
I'll turn up the heat
Shall I?

So fat he's never been cold
Killed young a story unlived and untold
The one chosen
Who refused to come
The stout protector
Takes to his heels and runs
The promise of peace and agriculture
Transmuted
Into technologies cluster
That ******
Any chance of the self
Persisting
All alone
In it's own good health.

For those who miss their mothers today
Take comfort in the fact
They might be talking to my father
And he's a gent
So there is that.

The burn
Which won't stop learning
The immovable thing
That is easily turning
Straight to which
There is a yearning
For that you cannot have

But then again
Where would you put it?
The storage space
You can't afford it
So it lays just where you dropped it
Until
It gets ripped off.

I'm up early to see the eclipse
Even only if Its just a little bit
There you go I'm lying already
It's cos I'm off the drink
Sleep patterns unsteady
Don't fell like death
But super fuzzy
It's been a month
Slow acclimation is a whacky doozy
The light is strange
The slight conjunction still a couple of hours away
The birds seem spooked and muted
Cept one robin defiantly hootin
That's the way those little ******* play
Could of course be all for nowt
Heavy cloud bank rolling south
The disappointment
Could lead me right astray.

My girl thought
We had an infestation
Cos she saw the odd earwig
But then she slung her hook
And I haven't seen one since.

I heard an American journalist
Describe the United Kingdom
In nineteen forty four
As
A green and pleasant
Unsinkable air craft carrier
No poetry required
There at all.

The quickshot 2
In 1983
Seemed
An impossible development
Between you and me
Instead of mashing buttons
Or the stiff Atari
This fighter pilot ****
Was the best form
Of alarming.

The happy guitar player
Was excited
Today was his young son's birthday
He presented him
With the beautiful hand crafted six string
His great grandfather had made
That was given to him by his own dad
When he was the same age as the lad was now
"Son" he said "I give you this,as is our family tradition,
that you might bring music and sweet laughter into
the world.It won't make you rich but you will have
the precious asset of creativity,to know you brought
some inner spark from what is you and from whole
cloth cast it into the ether for all to hear.I impart the
same advise my dad gave to me on this day.Never be sharp,
never be flat,always be natural."
The father smiled warmly
And handed the boy the guitar
He carefully took it
Weighed it in his hands
His eyes pouring over every excuisite detail
Even after a hundred and thirteen years
He could detect whiffs of cedar and rosewood
He stood in silence a moment
Then looking up
He met his fathers adoring gaze

He then beat him to death with it
Cut his **** off with the E string
Wrote THE FUTURE IS NOW
In **** blood on the wall
Set fire to the house
And went off to become
An AI software engineer.

Simon Munnery said
"All men are brothers,
Hence war!"
Brought forth
Straight faces
Gentle titters
Loud guffaws
Cain and Able
Romulus and Remus
And the Dasslers
Not forgetting of course
The bow legged Gallaghers
But sometimes it doesn't have to be that way
Angus and Malcolm
Matt and Luke
The Greenwoods
All displayed
You don't have to be at war
With your brother
Don't have to
Get smacked in the mouth
Don't have to
Go home and cry to our mother.

And it's stood there awhile
So long in fact
All that was left
Was residual
The flies had drunk their fill
The microbes obvs
Munching there still
A light off green mulch
Mouldering at will
Until
All fuel is gone.

In Hollywood
Gas masks work forever
And in the worst conditions imaginable
In reality I bet they're a bit ****
It just doesn't seem that tangible.

God speaks to me
You can't say he doesn't
There's nothing down for you
Nor none of your cousins.

As he and the eleven
Rested In Bethany
The iscariot chose this Wednesday
To fall profound into infamy
He sold himself cheap
Didn't go for the big money
The standard price of a slave
Thirty pieces
Was all he had coming
But that play was a ruse
A ploy and a bluff
He just didn't think The Lord
******* enough.

I went to see Riverdance on LSD
That's the cast and crew on it
Not me you see
It certainly a contemplative
Then interpretive effort
Watch for five minutes
You'll never forget it
And that's about
All they got out of me
How much cash do you want
Michael Ryan ******* Flatley?

Never turn your back on love
The ******'s just not to be trusted.

When Butch and Sundance
Watched over a plea
to raise a posse to **** em
Turn into a pitch
On future bicycleism
Old Butch went into a drunken diatribe
Bout how he could have been something
And all that transpired
Sundance the much younger man
Fixed him with an equally sloshed
Rik Mayal eye
Propped himself up on one elbow
Delivered a line that gave truth to the lie
"Well,it's too late now!".

How many frying pans will you buy and throw out?
Especially now they are worth a ****
I've had two in the last eighteen months
My own fault remorse
Short sighted reasoning
Is par for the course
To bite the bullet and go long
Has you singing
An environmentalist song.

Too young for the first
Too old for the second
Quite the fine timing
When all is reckoned
He could have been one of the 20 percent
Destroyed at the Somme
Their flags and their bodies
Horribly rent
Or shredded with schrapnel
On Omaha beach
French liberation for them
Just beyond reach
Instead he was a docker
And fathered eight kids
Imagine the population difference
In this fair land
If Arch Duke Frankie
Had not got whacked
By the Gavrillo and the Black Hand
But the war machine rolled
And the tales all got told.
My lucky grandad
With his dockers hook
Stands and stares at the future
From the Liverpool Dock.

This time it's Ecumenical!
Especially if you include the pagans
All rolled together
Ritual,food and offerings
To both the Carpenter
And Goddess Eostre
That what was Ceasre's
Could have been laid before her
Fresh Cherry Blossom
Swirls down on to rotting Magnolia
And it's only Holy Tuesday.

When you out and about
You felt the grip o the *****
There be somat about
The feel o someone you knew
But alone you feel different
Something you can barely construe
And so you delve down to
What you obviously knew.

In the fairy tale of New York
The knave who would be a knight
Rejected by the queen consort
He attempts to throw his light
As gods lonely man
Every muscle must be tight
For one day
A real rain will come
And clean the streets of blight

He rescued the Fair princess
From the beast
And his foul hoard
The queen now was interested
The gas pedal he floored.

He was sick of his religion
He'd developed apostate cancer.

Why was Scrooge so god ****** special?
Where was Jacob's chance at heaven?

I knew a man called trvevour
Way back then through the mist
I know
yet it's so hard to convince
The people who say that
Trevour exists
Is a complete fantasy
My *******
They twist

It was a springboard
To your reign
Though
It ended up in pain
As your eyes widened
At the realisation
That the deep pool
Had been drained.

The ingredients
So cold
And drunk
So quick
There was no need of ice
Upon this Hellship.

Where's all this rain they keep talking about?
It not fell for awhile
But it's hardly a drought
Weatherman don't know what he's talking about
Where's all this rain?

You don't feel it yourself
What others think of you
And they rarely say it
Not within your earshot
Till its too late
Standing over your box
You don't feel it yourself

Some day a real rain will come
Like Travis said to the candidate
Been thinking of Firearms and Mohicans of late
The time has passed for scholarly debate
Some day a real rain will come.

Poly tunnel kingdoms
In uneasy truce
Glower across the divide
First hovering kestrel
Then circling crow
Waiting for something
To die

The earthworms are frightened
The hares on the run
Avoiding beak and claw
Hemmed in by the tarmac
And rumbling doom
Breaking all natural law

The badgers are lucky
At night they are free
To cross with out
Auto harassing
And think themselves god's
Immune to all death
Till the farmer
Gives them a gassing.

I've heard there is a bus stop
On the old Kent road
On the roof o which
A VHS o Hellraiser
Was thrown

Someone saw it
And took a picture
And soon a community was formed
And more copies
The elements endured

Rain and frost and then thaw

A classic piece of art
Wether meant or not
You got to give to the cockneys
Some o them ain't *****.

Just bin to see Fion Regan
Not really listened to his new stuff
But he knew
The audience
Played most if his
Devastating
Debut album
As well as the beauty
Interagnum
Of what
We lack
He been exposed
And written with the best
It's just funny
Catching up
To his behest.
Just simply one o the best.

Pass us the ketchup there ****!

YOURE NOT SINGING
YOURE NOT SINGING
YOURE NOT SINGING
ANYMORE!
BECAUSE YER MA
IS A *****!

Imagine hearing that everyday
As yer dad went off to work.

Need to pop down the shops
On this sunny early afternoon
Just need a few items
They'll be closed pretty soon
Seems a bit odd
A megastore
Gone old school
With early Sunday closing
As I whistle a tune

Need some milk
For my coffee
Need some butter
For my bread
Don't need no *****
For the moment
Trying to keep
That thought
From my head.

Every man has his price
The incorruptible
The highest of em all
I can't remember
Where I heard that
The pride that comes
Before the fall
So ignore the fallacy
Of principles
And be a ******* rotter
Open up for business
Take
The biggest offer.

Who knows the raw spirit?
What could they be talking about?
When would it apply
And when would
It produce a song
Or movie
With clout?

Off to see me Ma
She doesent live too far
Just round the corner
Up the hill
To carry flowers
And good will
She might take a glass of rose
Mixed with Lemmo

But that's her limit!

And then she'll go
To my sisters
For her dinner
Avoid the reflux
She's a winner.

80 and still kicking ****.

Do you walk round in circles
Do you know when  you're doin it
Do you talk to yourself
Whilst you eschewing it
Is there a way
To stop the step
Will charred flesh be helpful
Or could it be a salad
Nutrition is a bit ******* key
But is it really?
The ****** of refuelment
Is what we be after.

New sources say she put JFK to shame.

I feel sorry for the intolerant
For peanuts taste just great
They've got that indefinable
Extra layer of taste
Especially when they alter them
Salt and vinegar
Sweet chilli
Barbecue
Come on get em down your neck
What's the matter with you?

To my drunken friend in Bristol
He's not from there
He just is there quite a lot
It's a good place to dash off
His kindly ****** up plots
To aid charity
And bonhomie
Inspiring tired artists
To create stories
Dripping with catharsis
That only comes
From real love.

To know my shadow
Without the light
That casts it

Venal
Cowardly
Oh so tragic

To look true
At the self
The other one

Uninvestigated

Then know that it's half
Of Owt
Perchance created.