THE POSSIBILITY OF TEARS

i hear the song in my head

so i find the song

& i play the song

& i dont cry to the song
so much as
explore
the possibility of tears
as my skin goes chill all over

& i journey then
inside & out
visiting the happened

the real
the not

& the could be

IT WAS THE BRIGHTEST OF TIMES, IT WAS THE DARKEST OF TIMES

'the 20th century

was our greatest work of art'

said the voice

with an echo

in a sample

in a song

an ensemble & complicit piece
a stealth piece unframed

genocide & the moonshot
atomic fruit & lsd

its consequence babies
live corrupted now
in the collapse of words


~


please discuss
you have seven minutes
paper is unlimited
hands up if you need more pencils

MONDAY POPS AGAIN

FORDS DREAM

i
dream
of
a
generation

two generations

three

where
no one
joins any army
anywhere

i
dream
of
being
INSIDE
a song suite

of the quality of
cohen or cave

i
dream
of
leaving
britains green and pleasant land

in better hands

i dream
of
peace of mind 

for me
when i go



MAELSTROM IN AN ALMOST VACUUM

divorced
movie scenes

orphan
song fragments

crowd my childs
fragile 
       eggshell 
               mind

when
i
try
to
unravel past fuckery
and
let be
the
missed dimensions



STARDUST ?

the
sky
is
a
featureless smudge

ennui personified 
hangs low up there

i
came
from
stardust

for this ?



REAL CHILLS ON HOLD

hollywood sunshine
on the forever tv
keeps
the
real
chills
at bay

waiting
for
the
alone time silence
to dance its jag

from 2ndkey.com

MOVIES RUSTY COOKIE CUTTER

movies fill holes
like tide coming in

hot woman
with a
hot man

cookie cutter heroes
lift up
mired boats again

hip beards
evil beards

required motion supplied

we all know an AK
by sight by now

a wilhelm scream
a howie long scream

a holiday sun 
beach with bar

the blue surf 
goes blood red


~

exaggeration
is
satisfaction

steampunk looking bomb
physicist gets one line

pointless twist
plot goes personal

all say-
never make it personal

a techno porn parade

~

rome

rogue dog

back story-
dont blink

every gun makes noise
when touched or moved

he follows orders
when it suits

hip beard shaved
cia like the look

evil beards stay

rogue dog shaves
has unholy practice

~

every tyre squeals
impossible on gravel

leather dufus
got keys
on neckchain

cover is marriage
no rehearsal
no trade craft

works without rings

stories in glass
are booze
in a bottle

revenge is trigger
revenge becomes work

impromptu party
drunk pratfalls

all stone cold sober
when alarm sounds

~

red-tailed hawk
castle thunder

canned dreams
for
canned dreamers

poirot looking beast
primes orion
ahead of schedule
with a nod

a goofy holler
a common loon

stealth is easy
with sound man
on your side

~

cliche is
sometime comfort

shes a goodie

shes a baddie

shes a good baddie

too deep

kill her off

no grey areas

cool watch
deep voice

mad dog meets new pup

crazy training
pays obvious dividend

~

everyone has 
a zippo to spare
come the arson scene

red trouser henchman
easy to follow
is no competition

sugar glass explodes
flag pole escape

local mob involved

veteran legend
meets mossad opposite

they compare
hip flasks

sniped-
only after
conversation

~

old wise man with beard
guides path patiently

menial help
surprise
with wisdom

tarzans jungle call
in cement landscape

venue always has room
for delta 1s 
chopper rough landing


a laughing kookaburra

nuclear bomb

under waves

detonates with
only wind

~

credits bring foreboding

i become bereft
on the sofa

bereft

we deserve a better song

but get
universal telephone ring

superhero landing

reaction shots
a shout- SHIT
on every 
traffic corner

from playz.sithari.com.au

PS

sequels hold 

inevitable disconnect

eg- die hard 2

is set in a world

where die hard

was never made

who wants to live there ?

NOTE TO SELF - CHOOSE A SONG AND B-SIDE

can i not 
BE 
a song
when i go ?

no burial
no chapel fire

no cryogenic lolly
no forced stone

just a song

cos music
music IS
isnt it ?

and
it
would
be
ok
with
me
to dance in rings when im dead

cos lords knows
i dont move 
too much now

so press my crumbs
into
a
magic circle
of
mountains and valleys 

of birdsong

ice

still water

or
a great wild stampede

and
i
could
spin
then

useful

for someones peace
and invigoration

for someones joy
and inspiration

when i have gone

from blog.discogs.com



where they do it - http://www.andvinyly.com/

discogs interview with who does it - https://blog.discogs.com/en/interview-with-the-guy-who-presses-ashes-into-vinyl-records/

O YOU STREET MAMMAL YOU

o you street mammal you

of rigorous toy
and
of rigorous tit

you hitch velcro fastened pig skin
in wasted genius paws

you hang 
a nylon strip neckwise
and pointing
d
o
w
n
to the shame mistake

and go out that way

an ordinary murder
l homme flavoured fodder

into
the 
byzantine turnstiles

~

you meat tower you
uncured on
calf leather shoes

o you mammal you
streetside in another animals
repurposed hooves
to scuff along broadway
in the tease breeze of payday

you display such epic lack
flush with your guff 
and 

g  o  n  e 

with stuff

~

o you night mammal you
fermenting gallons
in
your
muffined gas bag

o you mammal
you flannel
you dishcloth
you tea towel and pocket watch

kept on the dresser
for the soldier who never
came
   k
  c
 a
b
from the mud o mud o mud
of the trench o clock everydays
that a red flower will do

~

come out

you city monkey 
you cutlery beast

it must be so thoroughly dark in there

you       t  h  r 
hide    n          o
your   u              w
                       n 
                       turds
in the stone underground

come real size
come for lunch
stay for the weekend
naked

naked
like when you sleep

~

like when you sleep
plastic tags on the sideboard
and
blown of mind

blown of mind
o you mindless mammal you

you collapse and heave 
in 
brushed cotton-picked cotton

broadcasting
in the radius
with the si
           i
            i
             ighs and snores

half calling unnames in the dark

of the timeout death 
of the sleeping song

from pinterest

BLUEPRINT FOR ANOTHER POEM

i could start with
maybe that i dreamt
my neighbours
were
all
lego

that maybe they 
piled blue mattresses
up on my drive

and maybe i complained reasonably
and
oozed
out
underneath
the 
window sill
like an escaping octopus

and maybe next
i will muse 
that
heaven can be a place on earth

if you read milton
and
listen to only

pacific ocean blue

for
three
days
straight

and maybe i would tell you
what horrors happened bogside

explaining again 
that tired earthy ritual

and
how
i
searched there

for an enigmatic
sign off last line

as thoughtful a goodbye
as the jangle song
of the cistern waterfalls
urgent maintenance rush

and its draining mournful coda hiss

pic from superseventies.com

NOT BORN TO FOLLOW

with
my
door
key
i
scratch

not born to follow

into 
the 
locker rooms 
vinyl magnolia 
paint job

its from a song

i was young

then
coffee breaks over

and
i
follow

from rogerebert.com

VELVET BLOWN-MIND