RELIEF

that relief
when you write something

after not
being able to write anything

is up there
with the judge throwing your case out

& waking up
from those pregnancy dreams

A WORKMAN MORNING

the moment

i spend 

with 

the
four
mismatched
mugs

on a patterned plastic tray

for the early bird workmen

who park up their machines
& laugh at the heaving clouds

is some kind of something

is a place of grace & space

& the winter mild 

coming in 

the open kitchen door

is

like

a

lullaby

for a cartoon bear

& the only darkness

is the december sky

& no ones fault 

no ones fault at all

FRAG 33

& anyway when the music comes on
the tub thumpers & a chord change
then i know my heart beats too

& i write a something
an effort anything
a deliberate nothing

for therapy & purpose
& the corduroy blues

CREATIVITY WILL SET US FREE

if i see 

even halfway thru
the veil of you

if i put my fist
in the face 

of the fuckery of you

if theres Something
there NOW

that wasnt there
before

then that
was a day was a day 

yes indeed

& deserving of
animal sleep

from bbc.co.uk

ALMOST - A STRUGGLE TO EXPLAIN

almost an artist
but destroyed
by the tv headache

by the ennui

& 

the time machines demands

of multitudes legion

almost wise

& bursting with an exposition
of 

the pain the clouds the life . . .

well thats not quite right


~

insight explanations 

almost
almost
on the tip of my coffee burnt tongue

but this almost 

this thing 

almost a sensation

& not quite a gut 

never more than 
almost almost Something

my own interior tease

~

conclude

it

is -

a beautiful love child 

of delusion & aged decay

that

i 

will

express with just 

a simple sweep 

of one hand

my sleepy eyes

holding the rest 

in mysterious check

why not why not why not

The Thinker by Rodin

Image: © Dreamstime

FADE OUT WITH BACKWARD STEPS

pub closing
put me out 
up the peasants hill
in the 
estuary nights 
floating satanic grey

i - shortcut fuckwit
embraced
weeknight
marshside
subventure

wet got in my socks
& work in 6 hours
one thousand miles away

~

cattle 
in the 
soft walls
of 
heavy marsh mist

elephant shadows
contrived 
as the sea

they fade out with backward steps

~

i look for Nothing
maybe Somethings there

war residue 
pillboxes
squat stoic
&
fade out with backward steps

ghost farmers late night
heifer hunt tractor lights
head east
in an
up & down 
smear smudge 
mission jag

~

i am 
in a 
bathroom bin
cottonwool ball

boots
a
memory

knee down 
all gone

faded out
with
each
backward step

now 
all directions 
the same

from commons.wikimedia.org

GUEST POST - NOTHING NEARLY SOMETHING BY SALEM THE CAT

"nothing,

nothing,

SOMETHING ?

something . . ?

no . . . nothing."

THRU THE COTTON WOOL

meditation
is some weird animal

a fat monkey
still as dust

unharmed on the meatpile

in the
lion park

~

new lamps 
for
inside lights

raincoats and umbrellas
dumped in the porch

fresh shadows
new pictures
new angles
thicker speaker cable
does something

something

to rewire
the
let-down merry-go-round
and
demon strut
lay-away

~

i am punching
like a baby punches

thru a two block length
of
cotton wool

i am attempting 
autopsy in mittens 
in power cut
pirate mist

~

fewer whimpers
in the prison ward
these days

please expound
my other mind
that half-arsed friendly witness
says

from liveanddare.com

QUIT ODE

when i quit
the nights were nothing
and it was quiet
and
sounded
like 
the 
world had died

the silence filled everything
and
i sat in it
like
a bath chair

after eternity
the nothing and the silence 
became 
a something and a murmur

barely there

like
growing
eucalyptus
leaves

from galleryhip.com