The press need us restless,
To play fetch with bitter sentiments
(that lack any substance).
To possess a disposition of others
which can be echoed by broadcasters.
Protecting top jobs and big wigs investors.
The press need us restless
(more than we need them)
And if any fox tries to escape this
They hound the living life out of her.
Throw a blanket down
Throw a blanket down -
Insulate a daydream.
You are one of many in a dead end,
sick and tired of waiting.
and as you falter to the window
to smoke your soul for better times...
Throw a blanket down.
Throw a blanket down -
Insulate hope
For the many stood for a common good
and as they have you dressed down
like an old greyhound
who couldn't run fast enough,
whose heart was down the drain
before a shot was fired...
Throw a blanket down.
Throw a blanket down -
Insulate the good times.
Where refresh wasn't so important
and approval wasn't currency
and you couldn't get so far fetched
within your own community...
Throw a blanket down.
Know that many had your back
and every system has to crash.
Insulate a daydream.
You are one of many in a dead end,
sick and tired of waiting.
and as you falter to the window
to smoke your soul for better times...
Throw a blanket down.
Throw a blanket down -
Insulate hope
For the many stood for a common good
and as they have you dressed down
like an old greyhound
who couldn't run fast enough,
whose heart was down the drain
before a shot was fired...
Throw a blanket down.
Throw a blanket down -
Insulate the good times.
Where refresh wasn't so important
and approval wasn't currency
and you couldn't get so far fetched
within your own community...
Throw a blanket down.
Know that many had your back
and every system has to crash.
The train station
The train station.
A tanked up football fan
singing over an 8 piece brass band.
A fusion of blue language.
The place is scale electrix hectic.
hanging doves look down
on us as if we're all mad.
Spitfire prams, frostbitten hands
No one knows where they're really going.
But that Shakin Stevens cover makes the rush okay
Merry Christmas everyone.*
A tanked up football fan
singing over an 8 piece brass band.
A fusion of blue language.
The place is scale electrix hectic.
hanging doves look down
on us as if we're all mad.
Spitfire prams, frostbitten hands
No one knows where they're really going.
But that Shakin Stevens cover makes the rush okay
Merry Christmas everyone.*
Stockholm Syndrome?
Perhaps you needed the early moon
or the hangover of the storm
or couldn't leave your punctured bike
under sheets of tarpaulin
Perhaps you were meeting with God,
howling the hills for a love,
who gave the sea the definition it deserved
Perhaps you were just content with an open plan_
Your bathing bones kidnapped by the cold.
Perhaps it was the ring pull of cans of brew,
which I've never seen you sink
or that elusive drug deal
in the sober precinct.
Or perhaps, under the shelter...
you were let down by the system.
or the hangover of the storm
or couldn't leave your punctured bike
under sheets of tarpaulin
Perhaps you were meeting with God,
howling the hills for a love,
who gave the sea the definition it deserved
Perhaps you were just content with an open plan_
Your bathing bones kidnapped by the cold.
Perhaps it was the ring pull of cans of brew,
which I've never seen you sink
or that elusive drug deal
in the sober precinct.
Or perhaps, under the shelter...
you were let down by the system.
bigots next to me
Let them win the jackpot.
Something to stop them describing
the bite of every breed of dog.
A hot potato
where Middle England's ammo
is fired with shallow joy -
Solutions splashed on the back
of picture postcards
selling the seaside's decline -
Where rain talk is favoured over
blistering sunshine-
where ghosts now roam empty halls
that once stood host to tea room dances,
gentle kisses from doting lovers
And django lead second chances
and somewhere my daydreams
get swept up in all of this.
I'm sentimental, you're instrumental
in the middle of every week
let them win
(or give me a pair of headphones.)
Something to stop them describing
the bite of every breed of dog.
A hot potato
where Middle England's ammo
is fired with shallow joy -
Solutions splashed on the back
of picture postcards
selling the seaside's decline -
Where rain talk is favoured over
blistering sunshine-
where ghosts now roam empty halls
that once stood host to tea room dances,
gentle kisses from doting lovers
And django lead second chances
and somewhere my daydreams
get swept up in all of this.
I'm sentimental, you're instrumental
in the middle of every week
let them win
(or give me a pair of headphones.)
Here comes the sun
In six months time, we'll know the routine
Here comes the sun*
Nina thumping on the keys
Beaming sunshine, gentle sweep
Here comes the sun...
I can hardly wait
(Written the week before my first baby boy is due.)
*Here comes the Sun by the Beatles (perf Nina Simone)
Here comes the sun*
Nina thumping on the keys
Beaming sunshine, gentle sweep
Here comes the sun...
I can hardly wait
(Written the week before my first baby boy is due.)
*Here comes the Sun by the Beatles (perf Nina Simone)
Tin cans
I get used to their bloom.
The places they're found
The joy they bring
A tunnel escape
for the voiceless opera
I get used to the blues
of their fading spectrum
Flight wreckage
from a budget airline
never cleared
Flight wreckage
from a budget airline
never cleared
I get used to the way they held hope for so many answers,
offered none, but enough for one more
offered none, but enough for one more
And one more
Biscuit foil sky / pyro pink
Biscuit foil sky
Sugar screams coming from the high tide.
It's a picture night designed
for heavy shoulders formed
for carrying so much noise.
Gulls grace the sea.
I hope anyone in need
gets the chance to see this.
Biscuit foil sky.
Sea swimmers have soup in their veins
I push a pram away from the sun,
transfixed on its stand off with the moon
It backs down and bleaches the sky pyro pink...
Others no longer focused on patchwork pavements either.
open mic night
Open Mic Night
Outside the cats lay lifeless,
tenth spent.
Street kids invest
ungodly hours
wondering if home
is asleep enough
to return yet —
Inconclusive,
their hearts sink
as the chip shop light's dim.
The last one sunken as
even his phone charge
rejects him.
Oil poured
down the drain,
the smell of vinegar
finds a new salt
in the sea air.
Stumbling from the station pub
a stray in a stetson does his best
to reel off a soliloquy
which was born somewhere between
9/11 and a damaged heart.
One by one — a sequence of
single hung shutters
put him back in his place,
a solitary mouthpiece in the dark.
Inside it's battle of the beards,
placebo folk.
A platform for undiscovered
talent to show their worth
Some do.
Lying rough
She was lying rough
& I'd finally saved enough
to buy a resonator
(I fetched her medicine too)
She was a Queen Bee
One who left my company for good.
and every time I scaled the stairs
I saw her in my bed.
So I took it to the 2nd hand shop
who told me it was worthless.
I umd and arred, took the money, got drunk.
I was lying rough. no her. no resonator. no medicine.
& I'd finally saved enough
to buy a resonator
(I fetched her medicine too)
She was a Queen Bee
One who left my company for good.
and every time I scaled the stairs
I saw her in my bed.
So I took it to the 2nd hand shop
who told me it was worthless.
I umd and arred, took the money, got drunk.
I was lying rough. no her. no resonator. no medicine.
Up the hill
Every week
up the hill
the bus is touch and go
Folks on board discuss their health
Every week they look unhealthier
the bus is touch and go
They get off.
Their seats soon taken
(mention smoke)
up the hill
the bus is touch and go
Folks on board discuss their health
Every week they look unhealthier
the bus is touch and go
They get off.
Their seats soon taken
(mention smoke)
The birdsong 3.52am
The bird song is a landlord cashing a deposit
from a couple who won't get any sleep
cos the man below is a wayward soprano
He shrieks at the top of his voice
revs the fuck out of his stereo
They've got guitars and plants and idle optimism
But he's that cream that never sours until an
inevitable, avoidable crash.
The bird song are his friends who bail him out,
wire through his account. So he can straggle down the hill
on autopilot to get more fuel..A bag full.
The bird song is the shop who serve him
No concern of the state he's in
Part of a building society cashing in
His walls closing, theirs expanding (still standing)
The bird song is 3.52am. I want some sleep.
from a couple who won't get any sleep
cos the man below is a wayward soprano
He shrieks at the top of his voice
revs the fuck out of his stereo
They've got guitars and plants and idle optimism
But he's that cream that never sours until an
inevitable, avoidable crash.
The bird song are his friends who bail him out,
wire through his account. So he can straggle down the hill
on autopilot to get more fuel..A bag full.
The bird song is the shop who serve him
No concern of the state he's in
Part of a building society cashing in
His walls closing, theirs expanding (still standing)
The bird song is 3.52am. I want some sleep.
The left give up
Bent over s-d-r-a-w-k-c-a-b
Short of straight answersFacts are foiled,
used up scratch cards
used up scratch cards
Voting records
line top shelves -
Adult magazines
for the few [not the many]
Adult magazines
for the few [not the many]
So many still buy bright
from the bottom.
Billie Holiday is
drowned out
by a low exhaust
She sounds desperate & drained
My legs are heavy
stuck to the floor
I don't feel like doing
anything noteworthy
Because if I try
I'll be by her side.
These days,
I see many photos of
launderettes
I don't know what each
represents.
Perhaps hope for a rare kind
of co-operation
from the bottom.
Billie Holiday is
drowned out
by a low exhaust
She sounds desperate & drained
My legs are heavy
stuck to the floor
I don't feel like doing
anything noteworthy
Because if I try
I'll be by her side.
These days,
I see many photos of
launderettes
I don't know what each
represents.
Perhaps hope for a rare kind
of co-operation
Turning Ninety Three
Such fervent excitement.
She couldn't sleep turning Ninety Three.
Now morning, with her good hand, she takes on a television score
I've still got a few years left haven't I?
This quiver was me as a child hopeful
Christmas hadn't run it's course
as the tinsel came down,
leaving grief stricken walls
and the pine needles met up in the pan
for the last sorry time.
'Yes, of course' my answer - automatic, assuring.
As the conductor rests. She's gone.
We go back to entertaining.
We hope to have her back on again. (soon)
This was about my Nan in law. How her dementia seems to come and go. How it's all invisible and unpredictable) I also took a lot from this _ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tp6c_oG1SBk
She couldn't sleep turning Ninety Three.
Now morning, with her good hand, she takes on a television score
A pause for entertaining the common discourse
Her mind's eye flickers in to life
Her mind's eye flickers in to life
Music brings the sun. Sunflowers open bask
and then silence_____ Weak kneed she asks
and then silence_____ Weak kneed she asks
I've still got a few years left haven't I?
This quiver was me as a child hopeful
Christmas hadn't run it's course
as the tinsel came down,
leaving grief stricken walls
and the pine needles met up in the pan
for the last sorry time.
'Yes, of course' my answer - automatic, assuring.
As the conductor rests. She's gone.
We go back to entertaining.
We hope to have her back on again. (soon)
This was about my Nan in law. How her dementia seems to come and go. How it's all invisible and unpredictable) I also took a lot from this _ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tp6c_oG1SBk
Swindon Bus Station
Swindon bus station,
Everyone fixed to their screens
Mine out of battery
The patchy street birds
have a tiresome industry
Looking for anything to digest,
other than old amber leaf
In front of me, I pitch a family
from a war torn Country,
from a war torn Country,
I wonder about their future
The wave of support oily politicians
get in writing them off,
Sticking the needle in their life raft
get in writing them off,
Sticking the needle in their life raft
The little one is crying,
but occasionally a beaming sunshine
His brother has learnt to
rearrange his hat, rock the pram,
while the Mother contemplates her carousel
rearrange his hat, rock the pram,
while the Mother contemplates her carousel
Her garments are not very well co ordinated
but smart and colourful in their own right.
but smart and colourful in their own right.
The little one kicks off his blanket,
his pyjamas are Disney.
Perhaps he'll get there one day.
Until then, Swindon Bus station.
.
his pyjamas are Disney.
Perhaps he'll get there one day.
Until then, Swindon Bus station.
.
The Swan Boats
The swan boat pond a blue dye
In it's reflection, the ferris eye
A couple ride past on a tandem bike
Him in front, her behind
They look thirsty.
I wonder if they'll switch tonight.
In it's reflection, the ferris eye
A couple ride past on a tandem bike
Him in front, her behind
They look thirsty.
I wonder if they'll switch tonight.
We have become
Me at the radiator,
trivial pursuit over
in your eyes a glint of festive lights
in your chest a power cut
I couldn't get anything right -
even the correct answers
cause you had us breaking up
baggage stored away for weeks .
You broke the news
bedside manner foolproof
and breathe _shoulders relieved
your tears for us already in the rubbish tip
mine ready for the pile.
Your front door window pane
no longer a force for young eyes
that don't want to part.
No longer visiting hours ...
Heavy that night
The daylight cowered like me
I crawled in to bed
Put on my favourite Television show
one I knew would be ruined for a very long time.
The worst fear - us as strangers -
what we have become
I realised that year after year
life is a series of goodbyes
and a reduction of fear
and in a year the worst fear
would be real. Us - strangers.
trivial pursuit over
in your eyes a glint of festive lights
in your chest a power cut
I couldn't get anything right -
even the correct answers
cause you had us breaking up
baggage stored away for weeks .
You broke the news
bedside manner foolproof
and breathe _shoulders relieved
your tears for us already in the rubbish tip
mine ready for the pile.
Your front door window pane
no longer a force for young eyes
that don't want to part.
No longer visiting hours ...
Heavy that night
The daylight cowered like me
I crawled in to bed
Put on my favourite Television show
one I knew would be ruined for a very long time.
The worst fear - us as strangers -
what we have become
I realised that year after year
life is a series of goodbyes
and a reduction of fear
and in a year the worst fear
would be real. Us - strangers.
Dying Butterflies
I've never felt a warm gun on an empty stomach.
1
A rising lantern for desperate folks.
Paling handprints on boarded up windows
D-Day for state supporters, a ring of racists
A wet dream for editors of gothic script papers
Years back, they started this.
2
Mowing down vital information, warning signs
Sugar-coated truth for the partially blind
Progression is rarely weighed up in traffic jams,
Campaigners binge watch enlightening programmes,
none of which institutionalise a compromise of freedom?
1 + 2
Falling for Westminster
Every night, the news at 10 -
Stomach simmers, dying butterflies
We are delivered a spent rhetoric. A loop.
Sample these dying butterflies.
Suits say they have a monopoly over our intentions...
Why. Do. They. Keep. Lying?
Sunday Hanging
Peeling back my eyes from Saturday evening
Necking every drink I could, still steaming
and now the light bounces off every senescent storey
and, well... I'm in heaven.
So what is an honest way to make a living?The carefree crows commerce on this Sunday Morning
When the po-lice have been afforded an extra lie-in
Society makes us all feel unclean
Must be the same for deluded men
on this Sunday Morning.
I'm trying to make my money last
but every moment needs regulating
If I don't live for the moment
then what have I to live for?
I wish it were the same for deluded men
on this Sunday Morning.
Maybe they do to.
Necking every drink I could, still steaming
and now the light bounces off every senescent storey
and, well... I'm in heaven.
So what is an honest way to make a living?
When the po-lice have been afforded an extra lie-in
Society makes us all feel unclean
Must be the same for deluded men
on this Sunday Morning.
I'm trying to make my money last
but every moment needs regulating
If I don't live for the moment
then what have I to live for?
I wish it were the same for deluded men
on this Sunday Morning.
Maybe they do to.
So green, I watch.
So green, I watch. Such anger.
The Pushing of trolleys.
Get out and f*cking walk.
Such anger. Familiar.
So green, I watch and listen.
I'm then reminded of blitzing gentrification.
The moustachio magnate roams the square like an alpha alpaca guarding a plot.
In front the old dear's doing night fever - she drops her lot. Everything she's got.
He goes through her.
Like one of those sadistic f*ckers who speeds up as you cross
On over to where the half baked bastards bustle.
They enjoy the morning sun. Never worry on.
Never worry of spies so green.
Me? I watch.
I expect I've been caught by the captured to.
The Pushing of trolleys.
Get out and f*cking walk.
Such anger. Familiar.
So green, I watch and listen.
I'm then reminded of blitzing gentrification.
The moustachio magnate roams the square like an alpha alpaca guarding a plot.
In front the old dear's doing night fever - she drops her lot. Everything she's got.
He goes through her.
Like one of those sadistic f*ckers who speeds up as you cross
On over to where the half baked bastards bustle.
They enjoy the morning sun. Never worry on.
Never worry of spies so green.
Me? I watch.
I expect I've been caught by the captured to.
Worth Seeing
Runners. Colourful runners. Pixels on the promenade.
( Each stiff hit for a different cause )
Sleepers. Dishevelled sleepers. A washout on the promenade.
( Each stiff hit for a different cause)
Purposeful questions proposed to the sea ...
How it can stomach every one for me .
The angler employed the bottle green teen .
I wonder how he will fare? His beginning.
All this worth seeing.
( Each stiff hit for a different cause )
Sleepers. Dishevelled sleepers. A washout on the promenade.
( Each stiff hit for a different cause)
Purposeful questions proposed to the sea ...
How it can stomach every one for me .
The angler employed the bottle green teen .
I wonder how he will fare? His beginning.
All this worth seeing.
Another flume.
The flume.
I was shooting down to my grave.
Sadly, in my head.
I was told to lie back.
Relax, in my hospital bed.
There's nothing wrong with you
Why do you think differently?
Certain things I could savour.
Streaming Asthmatic Kitty's son,
Chocolate dusted coffee,
a gentle morning run.
Chlorinated water,
A sure (safe) routine.
My love hate relationship with the West Hill,
A kite being willed by your half sized hands.
But. Mostly you.
How could I forget the night, you held me?
Shushed me to sleep.
Taught me that I don't need to try and breathe
Taught me that I don't need to try.....and breathe.
Put your head on my stomach,
watch your eyes slow rise up to mine.
Everything passes.
Even the unpredictable weather
is calmer than your mind.
Even stars coming together
are calmer than your mind.
Feeling the ground,
Even the plates beneath it are calmer than your mind.
It will pass. It is passing. I love you.
I was shooting down to my grave.
Sadly, in my head.
I was told to lie back.
Relax, in my hospital bed.
There's nothing wrong with you
Why do you think differently?
Certain things I could savour.
Streaming Asthmatic Kitty's son,
Chocolate dusted coffee,
a gentle morning run.
Chlorinated water,
A sure (safe) routine.
My love hate relationship with the West Hill,
A kite being willed by your half sized hands.
But. Mostly you.
How could I forget the night, you held me?
Shushed me to sleep.
Taught me that I don't need to try and breathe
Taught me that I don't need to try.....and breathe.
Put your head on my stomach,
watch your eyes slow rise up to mine.
Everything passes.
Even the unpredictable weather
is calmer than your mind.
Even stars coming together
are calmer than your mind.
Feeling the ground,
Even the plates beneath it are calmer than your mind.
It will pass. It is passing. I love you.
New Years
Early 2011.
I believe that
this is the most vivid time
of my 28 years
Can still feel the bathing water
filled with my tears.
Get yourself together son.
Get yourself together
Post Christmas.
You occupied my mind .
Working in a warehouse.
Drinking vodka sodas.
I drowned but shined
Listening to 'Evening Kitchen'
with belief to find.
Listening to 'Evening Kitchen'
with belief to find.
Get yourself together son.
Get yourself together.
Get yourself together.
There's a concert on at the Afton Hotel
and I want you boys to headline.
this is the most vivid time
of my 28 years
Can still feel the bathing water
filled with my tears.
Get yourself together son.
Get yourself together
There's a concert on at the Afton hotel
and I want you boys to headline.
Those tried years.
Those tried years.
Those tried years.
I was never faking it, never faking it,
In those tried years.
Hearing you offering one night
but nothing else, was the worst I've ever felt.
Hearing you offering one night
but nothing else, was the worst I've ever felt.
Those tried years.
Those tried years.
Those tried years.
I was never faking it, never faking it,
In those tried years.
The Flume
The room was painted
with strong opinions
Those colours brighter
than the room's intentions
Our legs spread for law enforcement
Shattered dreams
Show homes are only for sleepwalkers
And now these cats pounce on our confusion
The flume, you were shooting down, with too long to live.
with strong opinions
Those colours brighter
than the room's intentions
Our legs spread for law enforcement
Shattered dreams
Show homes are only for sleepwalkers
And now these cats pounce on our confusion
The flume, you were shooting down, with too long to live.
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