It was late in history
the cities had flourished,
grown into bound structures.
Bounded by reflective walls.

Our England had shrunk
Into blobs of black glass
Surrounded by tilled land
The realm of machines

The out lands of growth
Machine controlled
Control from the city
Operators playing games

A game called survival
Between each city a link
The new inter city way
Compartmented travel

To lose a day to ennui
Is an abhorrent loss to me

To idle through a waking day
And never leave the path to stray

Where no one else's mind has trod
Thinking thoughts like seeds in pods

That germinate and grow to be
the waves that froth beneath my lee

As my vessel charges full and bye
towards lost horizons 'neath a sky

Of cerulean blue and popcorn cloud
I sing in riots of rounds out loud

To thank my God that I may be
Alive this day of fantasy

no one sees them
as the veils begin to shift
and night falls

ghosts begin their walk
high heels tattered, cracked and worn
jeans stiff from two days wear
jesus dangling between their breasts
at the corner of a downturned mouth
spit and a cigarette gather

jittering and itching they rub their arms
awaiting the next rush and run YEAH !
when the cops are around, night creatures
they scamper and skitter into the shade

rolling through the shadows
keep aligned against the healed
cuts
receipts to worth
this work

sunlight frond
glowing
the manicured malestrom
well heeled
The beast
feels

Rivulet shake
this naked soul
exposed
star fallen

an ambrosia
hidden in a half
turn look

I saved the lip
print succulent
pressed in pages
of a book

our diary of
emergence
a dazzle of
radius
encounter
intoxicant
in the brush
and gaze

cathedrals for sale
also palaces, castles, snake pits
and other defunct objects
of former affection

though beautiful in their day,
the weight of these monstrocities
has left the holding estates in abject ruin
due to lack of interest, brains
and tithes

STILL WATERS

Still waters running deep
passion's fire burning cold
quiet seething of the hear
cursed and forsaken
things we dare not say
and never tell
spoken only in silent litany
and unholy whispers
in a hell
of our own making

Shadows in the mind,
their gaunt spectred shapes
fit into places in the brain,
stored, as in a loft of chests and boxes,
there to rest,
until they're wanted once again,
to throw their patterns
into present conscious thoughts;
they lie there latent figures in the wings,
with many things,
the goods and chattels of a life, ignored,
until their likenesses appear
to ask them up to dance,
the dance of knowledge
learnt and understood,
or merely wake to shake in unison

Of living truth

sex was the first subject of existence
even God knew
without it there can be no business
of any kind worth a dime... …

we all make love
in the cover of darkness ..
by norms laid out by those
who indulge in broad day light,

under the covers
nay, veils of masks
religious

we all have to brave
those who are so deprave
as sermons they pass
we praise
as a child sucks
below
we all by now know...

I thought I was beyond it
grasping I tried to hold firm
as each thread passed
through my fingers

but my art held fast
pinching my arms
numbing my fingers
itching at me

awoken from nightmares
sweat rolled from temples
a hollow reed in the dark
had begun to sing

seducing me long into night
my hands bled
and spilling my blood
I made the lines ring

in the back of beyond
I found myself bloody
weeping of the black
bleeding out poems

Geepers. Creepers

Creepy, crawly, creatures
cunningly and suddenly appear
from deep ,dark corners
of Mind’s innocence
and with unholy whisperings
cacophonous
slither into a Soul
to violate and mutilate
and to paralyze with fear