Lost & Found

A smile a nod
how are you today
an untainted welcome
how quickly you warm to us.
Of no fixed abode
never masks your fervour,
a coin from the street
a message of promise.

But the beast is merciless
bites with persistance
stolen with the moment
lost to the wind.
I want to stop you
but i cannot reach
want to tell you not to
but you don’t hear me speak.

Your picture doesn’t befit you
a message gives us hope
too little to recognise
to much doubt.
You can break the rules
we care not for the small
just come back
return to us all.

At last out of grasp
a month has passed
makes if too real
we plan our day.
Remembering the cost
we hope you don’t mind
that we laugh again,
goodbye to you friend.


Desolate and unlodged
unreachable ghosts,
in hiding places
wasting and stained,
stripped of ‘life’
and tainted pasts,
twisting into nothing,
not even a memory.

At the limits
protected in silence,
illusions of safety
hits back in vengeance.
Disease and cold intrusion,
vagueries reek of
affluent side effect,
showing us nothing.

Pushing guilt in oppulence
patronising benevolence,
insomniacs invade
the lights of dawn
as narcosis fades with
the skies bright eyes.

I see them
I don’t think of home,
it cannot become me
makes me burn,
I start to sweat
and fell in turn
into loss and hopelessness.

I cannot fix anything
it will not fix me,
I try to lay my hands on it
to rest its head
but I delay its death
and forget instead.


For you;
I would defy storms
endure 100 year wars
bleed every ocean
walk a million miles.

For you;
I would forsake the Gods,
avenge every wrong
walk on broken glass
and over hot coals.

In you;
I see gentleness
and kindness.
The sun rises in my head
when i look into your eyes.

In you;
I see a picture
of your perfect soul.
You become my pipedream,
for a while.

If you;
remember my words
I become strong another day,
or read my words
and think of me,
its a love I cannot reach.
Your unaffected touch
your smile, serene
a love all consuming
just a kind memory.

Cut & Dry

I wanted to grow
but stayed ever young,
tried to say sorry
but mislaid my tounge.
I wanted to feel
but lost my nerve,
tried to see
but couldn’t be heard.

I wanted to live
but ended up dead,
wanted to be someone
got left behind.
I wanted to remember
but became old news,
wanted to win
but I always lose.

I fought you today
and left you behind,
it wasn’t for long
and you were not kind.
I hurt myself often
craved only pain,
thirsted for blood,
the sting I bacame.

To know you is love,
I felt only hate,
I had to restrain you
before its too late.
When you are torn apart
its easy to fail,
but I know you better now,
just an old tale.

Back from the Old House

A bank of soil
becomes towns and roads,
the bottomless abyss
where danger hovers,
silent dens hide smoke
herb gardens emit a roast,
a future armageddon
lost in a daydream.

A pool posessed by tyres
trees become frail silhouettes,
mist hangs shrouding me
against its pale creation,
Smell’s of winter
hides the drones of military might,
the midnight express
echoes in the night.

Aroma’s in rooms around me
life is rushing back,
with each vague movement
I hear old dogs bark,
protection is the rain
ending near winters veil,
frantically but silently
present dangers fail.


Yehosuah in his life
heaven born before his time.
A spirit of ages
his second sight,
a soothsayer
translated by proselytes.
Great visions of
halcyon days,
stories unfold
of silk and gold,
honey and fish,
the human soul.
What we need
from the scripts we read,
a reason to give
a reason to love
a reason to live
in the world above.

The TV freaks
and propaganda geeks,
they tell me
apart from “i’m free”,
that benefit fraud
steals from us all,
but the powers steal more,
and for who?
One mans pockets
or military warships,
new powerful rockets
that cause all
the hardships?
I try to fight it
but lose the target.
Do we accept it?
Become a part of it?

The Vicious Psychic-Cycle TV

Accept the wind
that pisses on logic,
if you pass too close
you miss the target.
Non-verbal single fears,
the pieces pick themselves,
listen beyond the TV freaks
saying ‘the silent God is weak’.

Consumed grey embers
become the glowing pyre
the scale of it
I can only imagine.
Pass beyond
the delusion state,
in the old house
its taboo I hate.

The speed of plants
can bare reality,
they never tire
of the human kind.
Nature dissapointed
by my lack of freedom,
seeing things hidden
I never find.

The apparent atom
changed Einstein,
listening and nagging
at my own substance.
Unarmed ideas
occupy everyone,
found a good thing
for my hearts impulse.

Seeking power
however idly driven,
because release
communicates form.
Everything aging is
an Earthly catastrophe,
the opium solution
is human borne.

I salient corners
the humming string
is craving to save
its motionless wave.
A commical edge
to eons of abyss,
karma drains
at every risk.

Peoples understanding
compare shop faces,
desire fat shelves
not poignant places.
The people have heard,
the buddhist words,
merge to become
the alter-herd.

A body alone
for a TV death,
holding on and
vibrating the cage.
Factory lives
reject the escape,
the animals on tap
dying for space.

Dissolve or control
to rule the past.
I watched the Waco massacre
and I didn’t laugh.
Did they escape
the truth or reality?
Have we watched
normalised brutality?

Fear of thought
completes the false friend,
the exhausting hypocrisy
that never ends.
Miss Ape meets borrow,
in stories that veil.
Miss Ape turns hollow,
the present has failed.


Infected linguistics
endless and deep.
Bleak logistics
manufactured relief.
A desparate menace
parasite on society,
killing necessary humanity
in servile sobriety.

Uprooted and endless
a narcotic invasion,
a distant false stretch
I’m avoiding affection.
Shimmering vision
yet to manifest,
everything is
lead and ash.

Senseless interupt
brings me the needle,
withdrawal gimmicks
hide the thirst.
My secret is out
a dark lined cloud,
the twisted subliminal
bubble has burst.

Cramped between
narrowing limits,
physiological prison
with vacuumed decisions.
Insects crawling
emerge through my skin,
leave my bones thin
like the life I’m living.

Bleak infection
assists my foul form,
in case I miss something,
protection at dawn.
Separate cold vessels
allude me in dreams,
I think its all over,
a losing game, it seems.

The moons pale sister
ellipses the frame,
knows I’m searching
for throw-off pain.
A pharmacist prescribes
an inch of life,
his special reach
touches the knife.

Words and pictures
have failed me now.
A chemical kick
with a dream to trick.
Beware the man in the car
the phone
the hat
on the bike
the coat on your back,
like the musk in wood
or an old green floor,
my veins cut off,
I’m gods no more.


Touching skewed spiralling shapes
my vivd waking life.
An infinite edge
to a familiar language,
dreaming every night.

Recognise shiny plastic
shapes as tree or dog or friend.
A hollow party
of paisley people,
the mesh dissapears and ends.

Meandering in life
a definate design,
only the movement matters.
An English blessing,
undignified trip,
the blatant rejection flatters.

We evolve as lone entities
and a single mass in motion,
rushing from a single source
to frantically awaken.

Life as fickle as a smoke belch
energy evades extinction,
yearning for a peaceful night
in a void of definition.

Sunflower’s break through the Ice

In sunflower heaven
wandering stars
burst finely defined
spiralling lines.
Forever stone arches
with hidden and secret paleness,
in vast marble gardens,
with a stretched yellow river.

Ascending gold pistons
and wordless red trumpets,
purl liquid ivy
from thick to fear.
Synchronised traces
of aped smiley faces,
layer the tunnels
in monstrous bass.

Red and yellow droplets
form kaleidoscopic spheres
weep every colour
as patterns on glass.
The whole scenario
repeats in response
to each conversation;
transient at last.