Pobble has no no toes 


what world is made from mouths of thought
chewing on olden words untaught
debates or wills are pushed aside
now the chilling truths reside
I love conviction
death or glory
still the story told of prediction
then die for what belief
a lover, a thief or pride
passionately you hide some weak defence
the mind well spent
a doctrine not complete
splayed out for all to see
your naked plea
coiled sadness beneath
dying is passing
you will see a change of heart
much argued on deafness
as in a past of persecution
a decision of then, not how
standing up and waving to friendly foes
holding fast on a fragile stand
sinking sinking into a deadly ground
spitting venom as you plunge
a viper has no tongue
there is no sound
..or prose
a pobble has no toes




Once this body was worthless
I sat outside it and watched
the dawn on me was willing
my flesh was glass
and I didnt know
then it was broken
I collected the pieces and put them away
time went past me like a day
older I came across them
put them back together
stood it on a shelf and admired it for what it was
now its precious and I am careful what I do
no one will break it again



Control tower


Beneath a cloud I wander circled
railed on every side by the tower
exercising rights by power
where did it come from I am unsure
fear like soldiers wear on a sleeve
and a wistful way I weave
in daylight it comes
suited soldiers march with truncheons in a pocket
tell us how to be or not to be
is that a question or an answer
I swear its a bard
from a past when times were hard
written in plays and played on boards
for the shepherded hoards
played with discordant chords
scholarly bully overlords
porking and talking ripe and rotten words
for us they work
for us they suffer
for us they fly away
from us they flutter
banking our lives in a gutter



See me outside


do you just see outside
its mere decoration
made for foolish thoughts of companionship
I am what's inside more
dont ignore me outside
I am still within and thinner than you think
some one to love
someone electric
more so at night or dusk
when light has gone I am inside
your cold hands on my warm body
by dove we float away
dreaming of money or cars
footballer's heads on walls
paymasters sitting on stools
drunks claiming from touch
children's clutch
rapist's crutch
vicar's porn
politician's liars dawn
outside my singing voice
outside my body beautiful
as a can of beans is to a warhol
you see me