This is the Captain on 'na 1MC,
so crew, listen away.
There's a storm to the west,
and it's headed 'r way.

Avast, avast! Prepare for rough seas!
Lets get 'r vessel ****'ned down
'tisn't time for rest
so up 'n out of 'em racks, now

Get to yer spaces, e'ver they may be
batton da' latches
and secure gear adrift, for lest
'ou be h'rt by swinging hatches

If yer top-side, 'en you must flee
get inside if you can
And if 'ou remain out, then wear yer vest
Man-over board is not in the daily plan

Attention, Attention to the 1MC
This is the Captain spea....*
Joseph! Son, get some rest,
Or I'll throw you out to sea!

We were poor Christmases would come and go.
But what with ten kids and my dad's Meager paycheck.
There just was not enough money to go around.
Especially for frivolous christmas presents.
I remember that year when it all changed though
so long ago.
The kids at school got spanking new
scooters and new racing bikes.
But my dad had attended a rummage sale.
At the church bazaar.
Where he normally bought our clothes.
But he struck a deal on large Hoop and stick
from the Victorian era.
It was not a bike but it was a Christmas present.
I was delighted I practiced with it doing swift turns
fast Burst down the road stopping on a sixpence.
The stick was like an orchestra conductors Batton.
I could make that hoop do anything.
I took it to school four miles away every single day.
I kept it within  the bike sheds
with all the gleaming sporty bikes.
I did not have the money to buy a padlock.
One day I went after last class to get my Hoop and stick.
And to my horror
It was gone.
I was inconsolable.
Weeping like a baby.
Then the police car came
The lady cop was sweet.
I'm sorry bout the hoop thing kid
I sobbed so badly
Stop crying she said
In an attempt to console me
But I sobbed harder.
Look it's not good in cases like these she fessed up.
I am not going to blow smoke up your *** kid.
It's unlikely to be retrieved.
No witnesses no fingerprints nothing
A clean heist.
But if it does
The next forty eight hours are vital.
If it shows I will personally
run it home for you in the squad car.
But I just wailed harder.
*** she said why are whining still?
I said  sobbing the words spurting  out staccato.
That's ...sob ..all well. Sob ...and good
But how the **** am I going to get home tonight.

WHAT IS NOT THERE...THAT'S THERE.


She saw music
written upon the air.

"I see..?" I said.
Not really...seeing.

"Oh like birds
perched on telegraph wires

becoming a musical score
in themselves?"

She shook her head
as if trying to clear it

of my words
not understanding her.

"No! Not as obvious as that!"
she snapped.

I stood corrected.
She raised her finger like a batton.

"But with...mordents and accents
clefs. hold and thrills!"

I tried to help her along
with her explanation.

"Like notation you mean
key signatures and such!"

"I see them in 3-D
and in colour!"

I could only smile
unable to keep up with her.

"I have only to pluck them
out of the air

set them singing
within my being.!"

I looked at the sky
it did not sing to me.

It spoke only of clouds
becoming other than they were

of weather
that was to be.

She hummed the sky
softly to her self.

I wish I could hear
with her eyes.

I told you that I had to
Go back home
To take a shower
To get off the sweat
And odd smells
We kissed
You said that you liked
My perfume
I left anyway
To clean up
When I was taking the shower
My mom sneaked a peak
Of the tattoo
And screamed ****** ******
When she saw your name
She screamed louder.
When I dried off and dressed
My parents said called me every thing
And told me to empty out my room and leave
Which I did
I was crying walking back
To your appartment
When I got in you were
Playing with a bell and a mini batton with two bubbles on it.
You looked up
I started to sob and told you
That I was disowned
You kissed me
I could feel the sensation of your piercings
When I said that I had to start
Teaching karate
To kids while still learning
You said that that was your dream
I said yes
And kissed you
I welcomed you
To the classes and to watch me
We then made shy love
Until I had to get going.
While we kissed I played with you
Then left after getting dressed. You were late for my lessons
And I got worried
But I carried on
Then
After class you
We’re leveling in the alley
And we maxed out and you gave me a silver rose ring
Ask for my hand.
I cried and said yes.
We headed to my new home
Yours
We spent the night
Watching films, listening rock
And making love.
You got out of your clothes
Without problem
And you and you
Laid me out
And kissed me
Touching me while
You took my uniform off
There in the semi dark
We made love
And kissed slowly
Until the morning
We slept in
And woke up smelling our musky
Perfumes.
That got us going
And we made love again
I told you that I loved your “perfume”
And you said the same about mine
Got carried away
And breakfast was out.
We spent the day 69ing eachother
As sweethearts
We were loving
But you were skilled
We spent the late afternoon
Laughing talking and breathing heavy.
Your blond but blue hair
And my red set eachother off.
If I didn’t now any better
I thought you had practice.

Batton down the hatches, baby.
Their bringing in the heat.
Theres a man with a sign in his hands
That says  " The end is near". Take heed
They are coming in with a quickness
Can't you hear their thunderous roar.
Droning from the sickness equipped
with a dirt **** bed of sores.

Shutting up the shutters to keep
Out the trecherous storm.
Bumbling about conspiracy
I've Concocted from the cream of corn.
I know one thing for certain
We will together weather this storm.
No longer stand for the perpetual motion.
As we improvise explosives for the norm.

Soldiers and Fairies and clouds like smoke signals
I run for a bunker today.
To a breath that is soft and has no opinions.
To the owls of Cluny Woods who meet the crows at Dawn and pass the batton.
Enraptured by the smell of dog and mushrooms,
I walk with the unborn holding my belly together.

WHAT IS NOT THERE...THAT'S THERE.

She saw music
written upon the air.

"I see..?" I said.
Not really...seeing.

"Oh like birds
perched on telegraph wires

becoming a musical score
in themselves?"

She shook her head
as if trying to clear it

of my words
not understanding her.

"No! Not as obvious as that!"
she snapped.

I stood corrected.
She raised her finger like a batton.

"But with...mordents and accents
clefs. hold and thrills!"

I tried to help her along
with her explanation.

"Like notation you mean
key signatures and such!"

"I see them in 3-D
and in colour!"

I could only smile
unable to keep up with her.

"I have only to pluck them
out of the air

set them singing
within my being.!"

I looked at the sky
it did not sing to me.

It spoke only of clouds
becoming other than they were

of weather
that was to be.

She hummed the sky
softly to her self.

I wish I could hear
with her eyes.

*

"An hallucination is a strictly sensational form of consciousness , as good and true a sensation, as if there were a real object there. The object happens to be not there, that is all."

Principals of Psychology  - William James

Ceri only attained this ability when she survived the motorbike accident that killed her boyfriend. When she awoke a week later this"seeing music" was as natural as breathing to her.

There’s a part of myself
That nervously watches
As I stare into space
Slowly banging a drum

And just like a ******
I batton down hatches
To prepare for the storm
That’s so unlikely to come

In the gloaming i run
Ive takin the batton ...
And Im gone
Undaunted upon the cliff topps i feel the edge
I laugh .......
And run on
Im weightless
Plummeting the wind increases
The pitch
Whistling crunch uhhhhg
Impact.    
I live...... opening my eyes barely
Face resting .... Awkwardly on the tub ledge
Feeling queezy ...paramedics
Beating on the bathroom door ..i taste blood
The smell of *** i *****
Close my eyes
Wake up with 4 iv's hooked to an ekg ......
I feel weak ........confused .....dont feel like
Anything ...........
I plummit into sleep ............
.. .  .......... Rest.....
Is history ......coalesce....
This.     Isnt.  
The end of me ....
Although
I wont be running along cliff tops .....
.......
Not in the dark anyway
Metaphorically
Speaking