The musician and the poet
such a cliched pairing
in love with brutal love
our melancholy muses
chasing shadowed souls
into the brightest of light.

I didn't write this work, it was written by my dear friend Carole Hurley who has been having a problem posting

I sit on the top deck of a red London bus and view the world passing by, so much more interesting than a drive in a car.
Where are they all coming from, the people I see? Where are they going to, what do they do with their lives? These people I view.
That little old couple,  side by side holding hands. They look so content as they walk down the Strand.
The young men and women hurrying by, perhaps going to work, maybe going to buy a sandwich to eat in the park.
Tourists in their thousands viewing our London sites. I wonder where do they all go to at night.
I gaze eagerly down as we pass famous stores, their names proudly emblazoned over the doors.
I love the hustle and bustle of our London town, a wonderful mix of the old and the new, I try to absorb all the breathtaking views.
Theres Tower Bridge in her livery of gold and of blue,  her ramps held aloft as a ship passes through.
Whitehall where the soldier high on his horse so proud and so still, while tourists take photographs later to view.
Big Ben chimes as the Houses of Parliament we pass. Westminster Abbey so stately and tall, for hundreds of years overlooking it all, the laughter the sadness,  the tears and the fears.
I look at new buildings all made out of glass.  I look at it free courtesy of my free bus pass.

Olive branches smother and dismember
in the mud giggling in time
with the squish emanating from
my alternating huff and puff
footprints

I trudge in Winter's sweat of
schizophrenic rain
My old defence, sheepish stolidity,
got tweaked in a twist-up
tight as a candy cane
with a modest gasp
of underground success

That shadowy hush of acknowledgement
ballooned in my ear like a blow fish
amplifying the environmental inertia
that never made me happier
nor this sad

I may have been mad
walking from informed opinions
like a failed Orpheus
but defence shouted in silence
and I returned home
to the unconditional support
of a pet art

Acknowledgement's shadowy hush
tore a blister trail down my back
The ointment of Winter will soothe and
release me before billing me
with a scar and littering in the recycle bin
of who I want to be

Today I wanted to be accepted
Night has arrived with reinforced snowflakes
and the chill on my hot back
has me wondering if I would rather be feared

Questa canzone è su di te*

To you
Mother Courage
I extend a cigarette
of shy anticipation
I want you to ****** me
to implement your closure
on the monotone
Duet For One
Raid my loneliness
in a hotel on Naked Street
Walk The Proud Land
of maple leaf melancholy
as you would the violated daughter
of New York Confidential
I'll diffuse the wind
of my depression
for your mourning candle
and undo the changing of
your name
No longer need you be
The Girl In Black Stockings
unless of course you want to be
Yes I want you to ****** me
but not to bear the burden
of a Miracle Worker
steady as you've been
on that unenviable pedestal
In the dictum of my
infinite malaise you define
The Last Frontier
Let me light your cigarette
Louisa
with which you would illuminate
the fog of my unbridled
Silent Movie

(Inspired by article below)

I.

Continuity
your filibuster egg of sand
dazzled curiosity
with creaky shell of hints
heaped upon the tedium
of knowledge's unfurl undeterred
by encyclopedic impatience

Assurances of rip(Van Winkl)ed
economics shooed paper strings of
revelation like anarchy-powered
taxes summoning a foreword
to anachronistic campaigns
of environmental friendliness

II.

Meanwhile years
have been filed down to flashes of
chronology for continuity's organic rebus

However long it took
the economic karma to fall into the
abodes of hedonistic pharaohs
it was instant

Skin that ruled behind the constitution
of allergic breath
bailed on the bones against their most
sublime intentions

Limbo-treading landlords
huddled in their mummified freeze
after breadline bashers scolded them
with the spoils of a new brand
of pyramid scheming

Robbers of the coffin palaces
stole the intimations of identity
theft from today

Immortality and freedom
were compelled to share a meaning
like estranged siblings
or bound dynasties

I(a).

Abydos
how you coyly toyed with us
with a diversion bordering on monolithic

04 23 14

If by chance we meet again
I hope you tell me I'm forgiven
for all the things I should have
said and done while you were living.

And when it,s time
for me to die
I find myself in Hell
You will know that
your revenge
Has been served
Sweet and well!

I stole away, with an

Angel intent on keeping 

Me company, for my

Last day on earth

She drew my name in the clouds with

Ink she bought from God,

Broke my bed,

Ripped my blankets, and

Sat me down to

Mock my ignorance

Needing a place to sit,

We built a bench, out of

Broken promises

Each knot in the wood

Melted into a bitter syrup, as I

Recommitted it to memory

We drank coffee behind the

Store that sold my

Innocence to those more

Deserving of the 

Luck they’d received.

Their tender was 

Myth and merchandise,

Final sale,

No return.

The torn soles, on the shoes I

Wore, slid softly through the

Field of grinning flowers, their

Beauty rivaled only by their

Obvious ignorance

Fingers wrapped my wrist,

Departure was inevitable

Wings spread, we soared over the

Blue and purple of the 

Flowers, shaded darkly by the 

Sun’s embarrassment

But from miles up, my

Sight, seemingly unchanged by my

Decreasing proximity

Showed me their vigilant smiles

Had she dropped me 

Anywhere else, the

Beautiful field of 

Terminal foliage

Would sway the same, with

Each windy eve

I woke up, drunk on

Sleep and whiskey, as the

Sobering veracity of my

Failure to keep dreaming

Became achingly apparent.

Will you wrap your arms around me
Silently press your body towards my back
Clutching my chest to keep it from exploding
Give me the strength I, myself, lack

Lay your head on the back of my neck
Whisper "It's gonna be okay" into my ear
Pull me in a little bit tighter, now
Let me feel you're still here

Help me weather the coming storm
Let me rest in these arms for a while
Before the thunder comes rushing in
And my tears, like the tide, will rise

The notion shows, as rain on my skin
As uncontrollable screaming
As a black out within
A pain with no meaning

I promise it will soon be over baby
I just need a little time
Getting my self together again
You promised never to leave me

You said "Baby, you and I"

I** 've searched all my life
L ooked far and wide
O over and under mountains
V erified by my tries
E ver lasting dedication
Y ou must feel the same
O our feelings were mutual
U nder this love I am tame

Love
Dedication
Softly we would cuddle
Oh! how I enjoy what we are
Passion