Friday 29 September 2017

THERES A CEILING FAN IN A PALE WOODED RECESS



again
the dr wont help
and
i limp away from the clinic
joints
only
half
on
fire

but whats that anyway
in light of what the sunshines seen ?

and cos of course theres
no cabs
on this 
small thin land

its commuter o clock
school run time

and i limp on
joints
only
half
on
fire

~

i go in a cafe

i get coffee

i sit deep inside
the morning radio chatter
and
the extractor hum

happily a nothing

a no one

new in here

~

and so then this guy comes in
hes jolly as a sand boy

i not seen him for 15 20 25 years
not seen him
since the mall days 
of 199biscuit o clock

he worked for free
on a care in the community scheme

we sold white goods
flatpack bookcases
luggage

and id lose half the morning
saying no geoff
not there geoff
over here geoff

while geoff laughed an infectious laugh
and tickled all the girls

till he was
told to stop

~

he sits a table away now
clapping like a seal
waiting on fresh fish

hes tapping on the waitresses forearm
like its bongos

he gets sausage and beans
tea and toast
with a crisp new tenner
and
laughs to himself

funny secrets
only he knows

shiny elbows on the table
new trainers crossed underneath

i pull my hat lower

what would happen if i said
hey geoff
long time no see ?

i dont tho

fuck no

~

i write him down instead
and
it
calms
the
needles in my fingers
and 
the 
spikes in my head pan
and
dims the colours 

sands down the shine

and all this cafe . . .
its like a vessel
and
seems somehow underwater

~

its full length window
has a high street view
of
all
the
skinny jeggings
and
gelled waves

everyone with an oblong
in their hand
out on the fucktown pavement

and i know horribly that
all their orifices 
are only clothes away

and i cant tell
if im in the aquarium

or they are

~

and theres a drone in here

like
from
heavy
ships
screws
far far above

and the ceiling fan
in a pale wooded recess

turns inevitable and obvious 
turns dignified and modest

keeping
the
morning
machine
together






Image result for jeggings

from khgfabrics.com

Thursday 28 September 2017

DARK DREAMS AND DUSK THAT CALLS YOU OUT



my
dreams
are
funerals where the dead mourn too

my
dreams
orbit
the heart of sickness

like stealth satellites
they monitor numbers stations
broadcasting blind
on
a
carpet
stain
moon 

~

and theres a castle
in the hinterlands there

i
built
it
from
soft bricks of flesh

( imagine a lego brick
  but soft to the touch
  and layered with 
  pale veined skin )

the castle in the hinterlands there
its uninvaded 
its cold turkey
its a plucked goose tower
vibrating
in
the
rain

and  
every
drop
has
its designated landing zone

a ledge to swell on
and a sky to reflect

~

and the castle windows are holes now
where 
we
used
to

where we used to

~

and well
dusk has some balls 
dont it ?

doing what it does
everyday

telling us 
what
we
dont
want to hear

its over
it says
its over again
so lay yourself down again

and worry again
that you done enough
or havent

( havent )

~

and i fall 
without moving

into
prescribed
sleep

into
undirected
theatre

into the castle there

its walls lined
with
the
detachable organs
of
another
nights
mad surrender

~

and i can only be grateful
when it lets me return

in one piece 

back to
dusks
upside down
morning




Image result for castle window

from rpgdrivethru.com

Wednesday 27 September 2017

WAITING ON ANOTHER ELVIS DAWN



that cut grass smell
is
a
sip from yesterdays rainbow

and
next door
they
all
gone
out

taking their racket elsewhere

and all our doors and windows
are
open

and the peace is palpable

an elephant on the lawn

~

time was
summer nights
falling sun
felt like magic

or magics shadow

it was like watching a cats tail
sliding away
thru the door

and it left the hint of a spell
on the warm cement
to
drink
to

and
id
drink
to 
it

spilling my brain all over the black

waiting  
on
another
crystal dawn

that wasnt so much magic
as a reward

or red cross relief

and
there
was
elvis
on the radio

singing like he did
like he still does




Image result for elvis in the garden

elvis in 1973 from picmonkey.com

Tuesday 26 September 2017

RIDE



its a psychotic ride

ordinary murder
in the bushcraft vacuum

and theres
amazing views
amazing views
on
this
death trip
thru
natures indifferent glance
and
out cements hard backside

and the night is the arse of the day
if the day is a payday loan

deep in the plastic heart
of neon darkness
its
the most naked
that
wear
the most expensive
under
a sun made from bubble wrap
in the bingo ballroom

and the old gods 
gave way to nothing

to our nothing
at all

and we all shout
death is for losers
knocking on that very door



Image result for plastic heart

pic from bbc.co.uk

Monday 25 September 2017

PROB SAID IT ALL BEFORE BUT



1. OUTSIDE THE BOOZE MACHINE

youre in love
if
that
FM
MOR
that used to be
lazy
offensive
chaff
for the losers
outside the booze machine

now makes simple sense

cos youre in the club now

and like a child
grasping the 1 2 3s 

you
learnt 
the 
code



2. WOULDNT ASK WOULDNT LISTEN

if a younger me 
(dying in denim every day) 
met the older me 
(alive in elastic comfort)

be like
hash sparks 
clashing with 
the codeine blues

he wouldnt ask 
and
he wouldnt listen
to any wisdom 
id fake out
of my back pocket

i couldnt expect him too

i remember his box

but i like to think
he would at least say

nice trainers

and

exactly 15% of your records are cool

before he was quickly
on his way



3. THE BEIGE BRIGADE

theres a man in pale beige
60 odd
a polo shirt 80s striped 
wash faded
into
the
colour of the moon

he lifts a daily mail
out the stand
like its a birth right

he gives each page
exactly the same 
amount of time and attention

over eggs and bacon and tea
in the tesco cafe level 1

he looks up periodically
with suspicion
with superiority
laced with classic hp and fear

and i hope 
when he gets back 
to his greasy armchair
waiting in his terrace hole
his
wife
will
tell him to belt up 
and
put
that
shit
rag
down



4. TO BE A BEAST

got sweat shop rags on

coffee in a forever bucket

wondering 
about  
function creep
endor
and
operation paperclip

and later therell be meat
metallic
from 
screams and steroids

but its good
to be a beast
eating a beast

and i toe the line
and i toe the rag
and if i done everything i could
then everythings done me too



5. ENTROPY ?

i feel flat
and disarranged  
as a kids
fridge door scrawl

all
my
thoughts squeezed out
into
a
single
speech
bubble
that
says
?
in wobbly crayon

 


Image result for levi denim

from the telegraph.co.uk


Friday 22 September 2017

POEM IN A POEM




i read
always have

like a good little spod

secret torches at night
as a kid

bad eyes

allowed the lamp on now
as i am 44 

(43..? 45..? 8..?)

only when the white noise lets me
of course

i hide and dream and live and steal
in
books 

theyre the simplest magic

a surrender of the soul

and
when i pause and look up
its
with
surprise
that the room is exactly the same

tho somethings changed...
its me that changed

changed by books
the simplest magic

a surrender of the soul

in one of these pauses
when i was 
undrugged serene
all magical like

i wrote down -

dr 
says
my metabolism
is
in
hibernation
from
the
autumn beginnings
of
a
culture winter

and i wonder now what i meant

cos it doesnt sound good

and
what on earth
i been reading
that
simple magic day

surrendering my soul


Image result for joy of reading

photo by joel robison from brainpickings.org

Thursday 21 September 2017

LISTEN TO YOUR BODY




they all say

listen to your body
itll tell you what it needs

and they all say this
with a kind of wise nod
i hope i never imitate

if
i
really
listened to my body
tell me what it needs

i would be on the toilet
asleep eating carbs

~

so i take
what my body says
with a pinch of salt
wise cynicism 
and a heavy veto

and i listen to the wind
and i worry about the rain
and i keep the cellar door open

writing things
loving things
mocking things
with empathy and kindness
and the meanness of a clown

in northern europe 1984

watching
classic
sci fi
with
a
childs wonder
and
the hindsight
of a god



Image result for war of the worlds 1953

from uk.ign.com

Wednesday 20 September 2017

WAS IT YOU BUCKOWSKI ?



buckowski
buckowski
buckowski

you rotten dog

was it you i read
when you said

youre surrounded by assassinated people ?

well
theyre still here

unable to notice 
the ordinary madness
of
this
impossible paradise
as
we
throw out tomorrow
with
the bath water rain



Image result for rain in gta

from gtaforums.com

Tuesday 19 September 2017

I SHUT MY EYES




1. HAIKU

i shut my eyes closed

everythings there
and
i

become unbroken



2. TITLE

and i write

generation plastic and the touchscreen gene

and
leave it there
leave it for later
leave it for

someone else to finish
another day away

leave it for 
when the ending
is
made
clear
with the forced order of hindsight
we
ground-bound cutlery monkeys
cant
help
but
impose



3. QUESTIONS ABOUT THE TREE OF LIFE

i shut my eyes
and
before coma happens
theres a flash -

sheet lightning outlining a tree

now is that
my eye veins
lit
by
explosions mindside ?

or a glimpse
of
the tree of life ?

is that where it is ?

inside ?

in the between place
where
waking is not yet sleep ?

rooted
into
a
netherworlds
hinterland ?

and as i drift deeper

i sadly remember

i
saw
no
fruit




Image result for dead tree

from istockphoto.comI SHUT MY EYES