When the day is done at 5.
And smoke perfumes the past.
And Shiny Happy People*
is another way to fast.
And the last of the office lights
make you feel she's gone for good.
It's Autumn.
(walking home)
shiny happy people* by R.E.M
Bleach blonde hair
Bleach blonde hair half tied
Her family are the only ones who ride
without masks.
Caught somewhere between a pandemic and a farce
Her kid's tablet is a never ending peace treaty
She's on her last legs but hasn't any to stand on
But for a few hours it will be lights out
nestle her head in to other problems
Relentless texts from an ex.
A stream of empty politics,
and shut her eyes to Talk show hosts
who shout at her through the television set.
(my best bet)
Blue vein lips
Her chin rests on her hand
And her eyes rest ahead of her heart
And in the bar. I'm a shadow.
She has blue vein lips on
Stood at the back of the room
And no matter how hard I tried
I couldn't get through.
I'd never move
I’d never move
When Sunday opened it’s legs
for Monday far too easily,
I would never move.
There were never many stills of us
making the most of the passing hours
My memory couldn't focus,
from the station blank, still can't.
By the time it does
I realise that every memory passed
was the greatest work of fiction
(based loosely on us)
(written a while back but realised I never shared it)
Burnt sweet potato, pigeon blood
Memories of this place.
Burnt sweet potato.
Pigeon blood.
It wouldn't come up
A 2 bed rental.
Housed our birthing pool.
Stagnant water from a stay in hospital.
An unhinged neighbour. A freedom fighter
left drowning in his stereo, the night before
Having to downsize due to COVID19
Burnt sweet potato.
Pigeon blood.
It wouldn't come up
A 2 bed rental.
Housed our birthing pool.
Stagnant water from a stay in hospital.
First responders and midwife treads
An untouched courtyard.
Plans of plants just roots in our heads
Plans of plants just roots in our heads
An unhinged neighbour. A freedom fighter
left drowning in his stereo, the night before
Rat Olympics from the kitchen to the bin store .
And a landlord second toke nonchalance
But Our little carpet crawler, new knees, the bees knees, we could've been
in a tent and still been happy with him. A new lease of life.
Every moment marked in these four walls. (but any)
in a tent and still been happy with him. A new lease of life.
Every moment marked in these four walls. (but any)
Every moment now flaking paint in a world pandemic
Having to downsize due to COVID19
Barking too
Night time, she coughed...
and woke a sleeping dog.
The other side of the park.
The dog howled and others joined in
Owners showed their mettle by barking too.
This was the most industrial action
she'd seen in her life time.
and woke a sleeping dog.
The other side of the park.
The dog howled and others joined in
Owners showed their mettle by barking too.
This was the most industrial action
she'd seen in her life time.
SafeTerrain
Somewhere between
blue air and
turbulence.
Spirit drunk,
I keep company
with four walls
& a grey dewy morning
And I'm in safe terrain
blue air and
turbulence.
Spirit drunk,
I keep company
with four walls
& a grey dewy morning
And I'm in safe terrain
I live in a neighbourhood
Up on the hill tops
Oak bed posts have stood forever
But as we descend the hill further
her bed frame can hardly take any more
Her place surrounded by
a war zone of refuse and shards of glass
As she does most things men ask
Until she has enough to cover her rent.
I live in a neighbourhood.
Oak bed posts have stood forever
But as we descend the hill further
her bed frame can hardly take any more
Her place surrounded by
a war zone of refuse and shards of glass
As she does most things men ask
Until she has enough to cover her rent.
I live in a neighbourhood.
The Motor
Note to her, him and me.
Attach yourself to
to the motor.
Not your ego.
Or those playing virtue notes dirty.
When drowning other boats
is the sum of Christ like purpose
not the maths of a worthy cause.
Attach yourself to
the motor.
And just keep going.
Attach yourself to
to the motor.
Not your ego.
Or those playing virtue notes dirty.
When drowning other boats
is the sum of Christ like purpose
not the maths of a worthy cause.
Attach yourself to
the motor.
And just keep going.
ascents and descents
Sea water salt,
my legs, the stairs,
the backward steps
the mass I shed
as I headed
up coves and coves
The descent, wrapped in the
smell of bush
the boat watchers
the sea a stomach
soothing relief or
longer harder my steps
And new shoulders weekends
Make amends, give the blues more than you
Formulated faith, soak it up
Never fail a serotonin shot
Keep face until one too many
and then you'll hear a broken record
of sorry slurs. A broken verse
Nothing new emerged
I'm stuck with paint dry sentiment.
Cemented. Sleep walking through the past.
my legs, the stairs,
the backward steps
the mass I shed
as I headed
up coves and coves
The descent, wrapped in the
smell of bush
the boat watchers
the sea a stomach
soothing relief or
longer harder my steps
And new shoulders weekends
Make amends, give the blues more than you
Formulated faith, soak it up
Never fail a serotonin shot
Keep face until one too many
and then you'll hear a broken record
of sorry slurs. A broken verse
Nothing new emerged
I'm stuck with paint dry sentiment.
Cemented. Sleep walking through the past.
The first bird song
I can hear the first bird song
through the baby monitor
Feeling like I last ate 3 meals ago
In the dark drive
where blues run the game*
could be consequential to the day
The birds and their sleeping audience
have so much to say
about that.
through the baby monitor
Feeling like I last ate 3 meals ago
In the dark drive
where blues run the game*
could be consequential to the day
The birds and their sleeping audience
have so much to say
about that.
blues run the game* by Jackson.C.Frank
The Kitchen
Everything happened in the kitchen.
She was sentenced to life
but a week before
couldn't believe the time
went so quick
but we became a dying horse
under beating pressure.
Everything happened in the kitchen
the twin towers took hold of the planes
Your Dad explained we'd never forget this day
The papers asked if it was the end of the world
Nostradamus sleeping still in his grave
Everything happened in the kitchen
Legs made a v and eyes marked the sky
but then we disagreed
until the water, either way,. ran dry
Everything happened in the kitchen.
Well, not everything but a lot.
She was sentenced to life
but a week before
couldn't believe the time
went so quick
but we became a dying horse
under beating pressure.
Everything happened in the kitchen
the twin towers took hold of the planes
Your Dad explained we'd never forget this day
The papers asked if it was the end of the world
Nostradamus sleeping still in his grave
Everything happened in the kitchen
Legs made a v and eyes marked the sky
but then we disagreed
until the water, either way,. ran dry
Everything happened in the kitchen.
Well, not everything but a lot.
No formula
2020 and we see the staples
in a society of stockpilers
How many configure.
It's a squeeze to get on the first train
at the expense of a neighbour's sway
some cupboards full
without a care for those
who must entertain hunger and
then bathe in their own shit
that's before we've gotten to the pandemic
My wife must solely feed our baby next week
Because there's no formula in a pandemic.
in a society of stockpilers
How many configure.
It's a squeeze to get on the first train
at the expense of a neighbour's sway
some cupboards full
without a care for those
who must entertain hunger and
then bathe in their own shit
that's before we've gotten to the pandemic
My wife must solely feed our baby next week
Because there's no formula in a pandemic.
Trust me
Trust me to have writers block in a pandemic.
I'm not seeing anyone about the town though! Most of my writing is done on bus journeys, but I haven't been on a bus in months. Anyway...Here is something I started.
Cars line the front
as if they are in mourning
They'll soon get moved along
by heads who don't need
the sea to stomach
their thoughts today.
ps music production is kicking off with more time I have. Expect to see more music on here than writing perhaps?
I'm not seeing anyone about the town though! Most of my writing is done on bus journeys, but I haven't been on a bus in months. Anyway...Here is something I started.
Cars line the front
as if they are in mourning
They'll soon get moved along
by heads who don't need
the sea to stomach
their thoughts today.
ps music production is kicking off with more time I have. Expect to see more music on here than writing perhaps?
Petrol
I wrote this with 'I trawl the megahertz' in mind. Everything feels pretty surreal!
March 20.
Petrol never smelt so pure...
March 20.
Petrol never smelt so pure...
Mask on. A nurse, slumped at
the back of an empty bus,
can barely afford the sunshine.
She is on a conference call
to a fantasy land where there
are no ladders and she is
royalty through occupation alone.
Earphones in.
She is miles away from an eviction notice
and every mile she runs is for her thought process alone.
She has money untied in her account
that can be any currency but sterling.
She's just awaiting the gun.
But as the driver puts his foot down
she is rocked back to reality,
A witness to groups flocking beaches.
Hoarders who would let their neighbours swim
then drown in their own waste.
They've been taught to fend for
themselves for years,
when were they suddenly going to change?
She realises that her time on the front line will be an age.
Beyond this time is white noise.
No cornerman or hydration
But if she could hazard a hope
she'd be in a cafe in central Paris.
Awaiting a Calvados, followed by a stroll along the seine
Ready to be swept off her feet by moonlight.
Watching the tower lights. but until then...
she sets foot in the elevator,
and realises her time on the front line will be an age.
the back of an empty bus,
can barely afford the sunshine.
She is on a conference call
to a fantasy land where there
are no ladders and she is
royalty through occupation alone.
Earphones in.
She is miles away from an eviction notice
and every mile she runs is for her thought process alone.
She has money untied in her account
that can be any currency but sterling.
She's just awaiting the gun.
But as the driver puts his foot down
she is rocked back to reality,
A witness to groups flocking beaches.
Hoarders who would let their neighbours swim
then drown in their own waste.
They've been taught to fend for
themselves for years,
when were they suddenly going to change?
She realises that her time on the front line will be an age.
Beyond this time is white noise.
No cornerman or hydration
But if she could hazard a hope
she'd be in a cafe in central Paris.
Awaiting a Calvados, followed by a stroll along the seine
Ready to be swept off her feet by moonlight.
Watching the tower lights. but until then...
she sets foot in the elevator,
and realises her time on the front line will be an age.
Hi Vis
Homelessness in a hi vis
locked in the commute
of sharply dressed suits
Trying to double
their lung capacity
with half of his
But for that hi vis
he'd simply be homeless.
locked in the commute
of sharply dressed suits
Trying to double
their lung capacity
with half of his
But for that hi vis
he'd simply be homeless.
For Roo
As Schubert offers an upright,
to those fixed, blue eyes
ascends the octaves over the house,
Our time gently flies
A morning sweep, curtain beams,
I come to the conclusion
that you'll be in an observatory one day
If not by occupation then certainly in spirit.
And, at times, the world will try
and remove you from these observations
and I will try and keep you with them
It will be a tug of war until my end.
to those fixed, blue eyes
ascends the octaves over the house,
Our time gently flies
A morning sweep, curtain beams,
I come to the conclusion
that you'll be in an observatory one day
If not by occupation then certainly in spirit.
And, at times, the world will try
and remove you from these observations
and I will try and keep you with them
It will be a tug of war until my end.
The Press Need Us
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.
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.*
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