As she bends me to her will it’s back to origami still I wouldn’t be without her…
Monthly Archives: February 2017
Making nonsense of the system
They knew that the voices told me what to do so they punished me and threw away the key, the voices had already let me know that I should go and willingly to Bellevue Chase Infirmary and that’s the way to work the charm a couple of voices a bit of self harm an addiction…
If another song
What if you were the carpenter? who’d be the lady? oh baby I hear what you say let me lay in your sweet arms…
Rattle
If you steal from a country of God knows how many you won’t get in any trouble, the politicians did it claimed for the non-expenses and hid it but we found them out they didn’t bother just said sorry and won’t do it again I got a friend who’s doing 5 to…
Reserved spaces
It’s never the same when you call her name and it comes back ‘name not found’ I was three or four at the garden gate and the back door opened wide Uncle John and Father with Auntie Anne inside said, ‘time for tea’ actually, think I was three. Four was far away…
Grave
It will last until I’m unfastened, then… it will end…
Set squares
The pantomime and the pantograph, that time we drew the picture of a laugh oh memory spare me from the folly of remembering. I called unclean and the bell rang, but the birds still sang purely for the joy of it. We can retrace those steps like pages in a book…
Flagstones
Not clear on the here and never sure that there is where it’s at but where there’s hope that’s the place I’ve been, seen the rough edges and sores attended soirees with bores came through it all and more. I read the stars got them in paperback too true. Forever is in each…
Error
I used to write when a pen and ink were the tools we used but then I got cofused by predictive text (which never worked then) did it? so now if there is a now or is it then? when I have this existential crisis I have no pen to poke my eyes…
Diced
In the black holes where my mind goes I have starring roles in dead end jobs, it’s a job though and it keeps me from self harming. The scripts are ripped off from some sixties satire as is the attire I tire of wearing, But when the universe is bearing down…
Camera actions
don’t get comfortable they’re going to line us up and use us all for target practise to get their eye in and as we’re dying they’ll tie us to a barbecue and skewer us into kebabs. Eyes in the mortuary and on the slabs keeping tabs on dead men and their valuables …
Losing plots
It disentangles from forever where it didn’t want to be and slips in through the bedroom door climbs into bed with me, Be gentle but be dreadful too do those things that we all do…
Grabbing gravity
Not sure what it’s about be we in or off on or out there’s always the switch when we never really know and the dead drop’s the only spot that gives where residual memory lives on or is it off? out but could be in trim the fat and what have you got? the…
Screenplay
What if there was only what if? what if then?…
Oscars
I saw someone playing me in a movie it was free so I watched it just to see if the person playing me was any good. I think that I was better or I could be. …
Dreams
The book of wells like the book of Kells… but deeper. ( is that Irish? ) I fall into them men always do. I ask for no quarter to be given and I’m given a dime time to move on. Seamless we dream more and unconsciously see more. On the alpha wave highway anyway’s a…
One former owner
I never saw the woman who talked the hind legs off a donkey but I’ve met a chatterbox or two who lived in Crewe, not in a box. Nor have I heard a banshee howl a tiger growl but once I saw a matron scowl before they did away with matrons. Open to…
Two lumps
Cocaine coloured coffee white drops softly midnight on my tongue. fly, a lullaby to sing an angel dropped to bring me more and in turn I turn the technicolour shore into a resting place and close the door. …
The Cripplegate friar
Who was it said? “who was it said” and when was it said do you know? Questions have been raised since the days when days were counted in Moons, monsoons ago. You might know who I am, a trier? take a rain check I’m a train wreck I know who I am. But who was…
In the valley of mirrors
I think Ptolemy was fond of me and I, a Pharisee from some distant geography travelled willingly to give gifts to the ancient Greek. In Alexandria, she beside the fallen arches where the goddesses held once a court it’s the forgotten and the infamous that let me pass away…