When you are gone


When you are gone
and my days are also long
I will pine for you

losing flesh and vigour
old lady in a shoe
knitting paint with glue
painting reminiscences for just us two
bring me to a time of when I could lay you down
and have my wicked way
and make you stay with me
bring back to life that day
and will my torturers to go away
and grow violets in your garden 



For Decor


Art for decor is no more

a driftwood is as poor a choice

paint by schools and thoughts are persecution

tables set with cheap plates forks and knives

silver spoons are rife elsewhere 

or in a rich man's life

look inside a painting 

look for meaning 

never there even if you stare

just reproduction of a place 

a time or a pretty face denuded

in the darkness of life 

in declivity 

there is no more space



By the tree 



passing by the tree with me
sits by my side and waits
another breath taken
why does she look that way
a shame to be so shamed
blame it on me
she is vicious
a flying bird goes by
another sits and cries
and looks at me
a day gone by
a night of time and alive still
where does it go
out loud .. stars
a baby grown
night feeds and staring
at a glow
mind blown
mindful thoughts relax
treasured notes
play .. again and again





I lost control
the wisp hovered above me
its half head falling to one side
the screams pitched higher than I could make out
the mouth was open
a small row of teeth and the bottom tinged in redness
no roof
I dropped the gun
..walked away
the path was a hollow
the leaves reached out
poison on their breath
a drug so potent
a mind so sick now
forever I will haunt
now that I am blooded



Tree on a marsh


The wood burned
it had done nothing wrong
it had grown strong when young , and weathered storms and harsh winters ,
it had a broken branch where a clumsy man swung on it , but apart from that it fruited and sowed its seed
disease came
a black hand
pouring its venom into it
the life started to drain into a dead soil
leaves were no more

the acid bark declined its shelter
its branches fell in the wind until it stood stark
the river came close to see
as she floated by
waiting to be rescued
but no one leapt in
the tree strained to move
the flames laughing at her
slowly she swept past
strangled by ivy and the dead
a cloud broken by sorrow spread its wings
a leaf spinning in a wind
as she swallowed
calling with no voice
that gangrenous tree falling
her ashes scattering on a marsh
it was a fair wind



A waste of philosophy


why do we wonder?
where do we come from?
why are we here?
we are self propagating germs surely
some very queer ones
they eliminate and eat each of our kind
copulate and eat is all we are
manipulate vegetate and make concrete to date
swirling into plugholes all that's waste
clockwise one way then another
while the northern lights attract the sun
around it we flutter
we slave away until work is done
the queen bee sends us to our fun
there goes another one
philosophy , a wasted time
for them that cant or wont
we are building castles so they reign
the philosophic pain
paths go nowhere for my gain
planes all day fly far away
for what
am in dismay
or am I asking too much while here I lay
do I care about this mass of germs that attack me day by day
shall I spurn all thoughts of refrain
and stop the earth

and get off





no one's fault but theirs
fresh from skies and toilet waste
blatancy lies and mischief
flooded house with covidicus paste
sent a suit to calm down a flood
a wave of conspiracy in the blood
kitchen shit and garden shredded
refuse to accept it
no one's fault but theirs
nothing left
old and feeble left as dead
no money to replace
fish all brown bread 
nature cruelly ended
by fools in bed




The search for life or possessions


Machines grind away at the air
goods and trade
fair woman or dark
belongs in states of stress
in states of mess
while machines walk by
a world that grinds to a halt
a purse that bulges
another mother's born
so where is the world ?
water and graves
soil and pavements
skyrise to another place
the air is darker now
the water colder
while engines grind still
philosophy that minds it's business
the production in a line now
soulful music on a line
wearing what's best
to float away with a spoon and whey
is another day, a way out
when a sun sucks us in
we spin



Devil of tarts


devil of tarts
lock me up
thrice I told you no
kiss my pride then
with luscious lips so free
beyond a sinking ship I spy
broken now
silly cow
milking tits on a sow
the mousey hair
lousy with nits
the latch that never works
a kitchen table set
with tea
laced with afro desiac
a black tea
spiked and down
then sitting up begging
like a dog on heat
she walks around me pencilled in pink
and works the room
lastly the sink
help is at hand

Never free


that body should damn well be grateful

I keep it full 

bloody gashes where the overspill runs away

I am the fool 

that dances by night 

seeking refuge to plunder the sex

pleasure my warrior's whim

but always losing

hope in a kiss 

or emptiness I cant tell 

my temper even now

she never comes near

her breast is white

and cold to the touch

wiser than me she flees

afraid of shadows

aware of so much that passed me by

I will always try ..no retreat

broken as I am on her wheel

I am so long dead now

she worries still about things of airiness and shade

earthly things

reasons running away  

into a sea of declivity she'd made 

from paper and earth

folded neatly 

beyond the sun and sand it flies

never free of defeat

just another day 

she hates me 

the bell tolls 

the marsh wind howls