I'll Take Belize Please

the water so blue in the caribbean sea
I could almost see the reflection of me
the palm trees with banana and coconut
the man on the corner chewing a cigar ****

the gentle breeze and sun so bright
the only thing better than the cool soft night
me friend Gomer he say to me
I'd like to dive to find the perly

I knew what he meant it must be so
he thinks of the perl wherever he go
in his straw brimmed hat drinking the ***
he pick up his guitar and he begin to strum

it was a song of cheer and a song of sad
so glad he be here but still feeling bad
he try to shake off saying oh what the hell
swirling the *** in his coconut shell  

he still wanted to share this beautiful place
he wished to see the smile on her face
her long golden hair blowing in the wind
the sand on her feet and then he grinned

it was a thought that only he knew
and maybe one other member of the crew
an imaginary hug a gentle kiss fall to his knees
if you don't mind he'll take Balize please

Caribbean Joseph ....

Dear Sir: This application form,
from one potential employee,
will tell you how I should perform.
I have a first-class BSc,
ten years of writing ANSI C,
some Java; Perl with DBI;
and tendencies to wander free
and gaze, all wordless, at the sky.

I know perhaps it's not the norm
to mention this on one's CV.
I wonder if you'd just transform
the job I'm asking for, to be
not writing code, but poetry.
Do ask your boss. It's worth a try.
He'd sing, himself, when he was three,
and gaze, all wordless, at the sky.

I'd stay till ten beneath a warm
duvet, and then I'd climb a tree,
my face upheld towards the storm,
or paddle barefoot in the sea.
Perhaps a friend comes round for tea.
Perhaps among the corn we'd lie
in silent solidarity
and gaze, all wordless, at the sky.

Sir, I enclose an S.A.E.
I wonder if you might reply
and leave your desk to run with me,
and gaze, all wordless, at the sky.

I am spread out like a *******
your own personal Jew and
while I bury my blood in your
thread count I knit one
perl two
Why do I let you annihilate me
like this then stitch me back
together?
You use the same holes each time
then ***** about their emptiness
leaving me no time to rebloom
Your garden looks like so many
dug up graves, your kind of love-
one prays while the other one brays
we cannot get enough of you
having left ourselves, bones and
all with nothing but our souls
to chew

I have made a
totem out of
pure want out
of the empty
extended hand
as if my veins
and sinew
are knit
together,
two long and
awful strands
my bones
are the needles
that hold this
thing together
(knit one,
perl one
I am one
dropped stitch
after another)
ha! a sweater
with no holes
for arms or
hands and
not even for
my head
I've sewn myself
together, a straight
jacket and the meat
of me, one long
and continuous
dread

Stoic-perl.
Flames burn from a Cole pit.
Beds expand for you as the pain dissipates away.
Lift and dance away from your fears that wich brings you to your limits.
Walk on white Sandy beaches.
Hold my hand.
The sun and moon both smile for you.
Luminescent neon fires, expanding like veiny envertrbred fruit ever glowing as we embrace.
Just believe.
Corral sands swim past the ever long tears of joy that illuminate my eyes.
I look out.
Pride.
In my world I hold our child. A product of our love.
This child will breathe and swim never to know the sting of the pain of this world outside our eyes.
Held high.
To embrace.
Closer now.
To be with you my love.
Be awake.
Be free.
Breath. Just breath.
Joy.