NONE WILL BOTHER THE ACADEMY

if you ask me

whats the last good film 

i seen

well

some of these movies i watch
make me wonder
what am i doing with my life

the drug dealer from outer space
here for our endorphins
&
the priest thats a dinosaur
fighting the triads

&
the pentagon weaponising sharks now
& on the land too

but if cant write some pith

or paint my shapes & smears

this

is

where

i

land

OWN YOUR MIRACLE WITH A POTATO

yeah theres
eight billion of us

but theres fuck all else
going on
in the massive black universe

we are some kind of special
own your miracle
& act like it

no black star
ever painted its pets

on cereal box card

with a potato

INSINUATING MELODIES

now

my
mind
writes

its
own
eulogy
as
i
paint

& i am trying not to ruin the canvas
& i am happy i have not ruined it yet

& i can only paint to arcade fire
& i am almost sick of them

    almost gagging on 

      the insinuating melodies

but i am hooked on

the bitter sweet

coffee & banoffee

of nostalgia & longing 

DANCING DAYS

plinkers & plonkers
& tub thumpers

blowers & shakers
pluckers & strummers

oscillating experimenters
& motherboard masters

from
the siberian warblers
to
bullhorn gravel discourses

from
one chord retarders
knuckle dragging
in the denim ballrooms
to
missing note jazzers
skipping skipping
to almost resolution 
out the
segregation cotton

    you 
    paint time

    you 
    Make time

    you are 
    OF time

i m m a c u l a t e

big 
respect

coming 
out my
stereo headphones

every
dancing
day

from dariusdavis.com

PICASA MADRIGALS - THE PAINT

SAME BRANCHES SEASONAL BLOOMS

i dont know what to write
i do know what to write

but
i worry
i wrote it
before

same branches
seasonal blooms

~

i got field experience-

theres paint fragments
imbedded forensic style
in 
my 
fender-bender forehead

from the dense tense years 
of
deep cover
anthropological 
black ops

~

but 
i worry 
i wrote it 
before

same branches
seasonal blooms

still i pick them tho
cos still they still grow

from pixshark.com

DEPOSIT FORFEIT

THREE POPS ON CREATIVITY

1. COST OF LIVING

and the pills keep the walls up

indian-giver 
peacekeepers
monitor me
like
i
am
a walking civil war

their direct debit paid up daily
over a hot coffee breakfast

and
before
i
wonder
why
i
need
walls at all

they got me sat down again
writing

anything and nothing
sometimes an almost something

d
o
w
n

inside the glass
for the ether


POOR ARTLESS

i must leave the earth scorching
to
the
all
the
locked down artless unpainting
and
careering
thru
their
careers

tied tight with function creep
their
luncheon meat
reformed 
on government rye

and i suspect
with a pity 
thats big of me

thats theres just not enough easels 

set up
in the MOD



QUALIFICATION


and well yes hitler did paint roses

but not well

or
ANYWHERE
near
often
enough

his writing was bad too

just
cant
do
anything
with
some people

can you ?

old soldier assemblage structure 

by tree pruitt

from artist-tree.blogspot.co.uk

HOMEBASE

the
young
guy
in
homebase
marches
down
the
paint
aisle
with insolence
on
his face

hes
ginger
and
more
freckle
than
skin
and
his insolence
tells
me
hes
been
told
hes
ginger
and
more
freckle
than 
skin

too many times

but
i
got
no
answer
for
that quiff

from hairstylecamp.com

EVEN GOOD BOMBS ARE BAD

be the change 
you want to see 
in the world . . .

i 
get
it

it
sounds 
ok

sounds
good

achievable

but is it 
sop for our 
conscience

or could 
it really 
work . . ? 

~

so im nice
to my neighbour
even
when 
he
brings up
his pet subject
of those blockpavers
those romanian blockpavers

and all the stolen vans

( the dimlo arsehole Sun-faced beer-sack )

i guide him away
with soft disagreement
like
hes
a
simple child
parroting a bad uncle 
so 
it 
doesnt become a Thing

and
anyway
it
all
falls down
at the next news broadcast

its bombs galore again

on 
the
death tv

~

i propose
instead
we all
paint roses

maybe even everyday

because
hitler 
was the change
he wanted to see
in the world

soon
after 
he had stopped
painting roses

timberlands from pinterest.com

THURSDAY POPS

A RUBY PORT CASK 
FOR FINISHING SCOTCH

all that drink

it was like i was in a barrel

going over niagra

scream-laughing
for
twenty
odd
years



TV POP
HITLER FOREVER APPARENTLY 

we watch people shop
watch nail paint dry

theres a half-hour
list of movies
jesus would have enjoyed

and at any one time
on one channel somewhere
always at least one

hitler show



FORGOTTEN BEAST REMINDS

at night
i hear

a kind of deep cough

it comes in the window
like from off across the marsh

could be the river port . . . 

but
sounds
more
like
something     big and forgotten
                     is
             clearing its throat

      as
       a
reminder

never for a speech

from scotchclubyeg.com

EU REFERENDUM DAY 2

a long night

sleepless

thunder and floods

one red eye
on
the
news

this morning
its quiet

suns out

the cat hides in the jungle of the lawn
&
next door theyre watching paint dry

but 
i wonder what happened
&
what will it mean
&
what will fall down next
&
all the easy pop
on
the
radio
sounds more poignant today

i
wish
i
didnt care

like 
a cat 
a bird

or
a
tramp
steamer
in an adventure film

from thefedoraloungue.com

SHORT ODES TO OUR LITTLE BRUMM

1. KB04

stretched out
in
the
nights
crazy
soup
i dreamt Star Wars 

light and dark / desert and snow

our 950 Corsa
was
a
droid
rolling round forests
over steel gantries

secret essential blueprints
hidden
on
the
stereo dial
next
to
Radio 2


2. PASSENGER SEAT

i 
sketch out Spain / dreams
and
the PM high street -

  shop lights nuking the dusk
  9 to 5ers
  buying
  supper
  car keys in their phone fists

while
i
sit
in
little brumms 
pushed back
passenger seat

waiting for her train
to
roll
in


3. SENTINEL

out the front

2 tires on the kerb

he
waits
all
night
for 6 AM

like a favourite pair of denims
over
the
back
of
a
chair


4. RESALE

his 
paints peeling
no 
resale value
boot 
full with 100 shopping bags

and
one of the family


5. ROUNDABOUT TOWN

and
she will drive 
little brum
over 1000 mini-roudabouts
to
get
home
for
supper
and
the night

PAINT ME A NICE TOMORROW

OLD HIWAY TO S'END

  the old hiway to s'end
is
a
clot
of drivethrus now 
  the
blacktop frozen 
into 
ripples like a lowtide beach

  pubs are boarded up
in
armour of silver steel
and
  all the roadside bungalows 
  shed their paint like scabs

  the old hiway to s'end
hunches
its subway shoulders 
  weighed down by newbuild towers
under
skyroads treading heavy in lowcloud 
  so
  doomlike 
  and
  dull strong grey 

 from piley.blogspot.com - southend essoldo, warrior square