The overlords are here
From beyond reality
Not to teach or to heal
Or hold dominion over thee
Not to persecute and pillage
Not to alter or rearrange
Not to allay our fears
Because we find them strange
Not to accelerate or motivate
Urge us on to our potential
Not to shows their technology
Beyond us monumental
Not mediate or pacify
Or empty man's bloodbath
Not to anoint or purify
But because they like a laugh.

Under a diseased elm
Found a shady place to lay
Not much of a breeze
Watched the doggies
Tumble and play
A platoon of crows
Tighten a circle round me slow
The edges of my vision dim
It might be time to go

From my lungs to your ears
And then hopefully your brain
The squishy bit in the midfield
That copes with love and pain
The Hypothalamus spreads
Joy and doom through the land
Secreting oxytocin  
From the pituitary gland

Not to be confused
With the hippopotamus
Which controls memory
Short term not bottomless
That might explain
Why we do it again
And again
Walking the line twixst
Love's
Heaven
And
Hell

Saw an ad in the personal colounm
Looking for someone to meet and immediately ******
Have *** with your corpse and then eat you.
Thinking about giving it a go.

When your looking at the point of an image
I think they call it the bokeh
How long till your eyes wander round
And settle on the details unfocused
Not quite sharp
Perhaps underexposed
Somewhat in the dark
You don't know why
Your mind fell upon it
But there's sommat there
Though it's clearly not clear
sometimes the background
Is the hot ****.

Why would you not
Believe
The things
I would like you
To perceive?

I'd know you in the dark
Because I've known you for so long
I know your form and breath my love
Yes I'd know you in the dark

Buy land said the man
For god's not making anymore
Well what about volcanos you *****?
What of the Galapogos?

Run to the hills
Step off of that grid
Jump from this pan my friend
Before they bring down the lid

I've seen you through the dark
Through gloomy prom and park
But I've seen you burst through that murk
And start singing like a lark
Singing like the lark
The sweet silver song of the lark
In a golden sky
Could you hold your head up high?

It's bin raining all day
Lightning rolled through
Just now
The scaffold near
Pressed agin my window
I survived it
Somehow.

When Loudons in a mood
There's just nobody like him
Seems he could spit regret and bile
Ad infinitum
Found one of his CDs
At the back of the shelf
Still had its cellophane jacket on
A lot of dust it's repelled
It's one of them
My father left to me
Without knowing
Turned the case over in my hands
Tiny aftershock
Sweetly glowing
Seems almost a shame
To take its thin coat off
But it won't feel the benefit
When it's time to shuffle south.

Wence does it come?
Where doth it go?

Round the corner?!
I don't know!

Things fall off
Cos things get loose
I've lost my screwdriver
I know that's no excuse
You can feel the vibration
Before you hear the sound
Once the bolt hits the floor it can never be found.
Rattling
Shattering
You stupid *******.

Is that fog or steam
Misting up your dreams?
The details are there
But swaythed  in smoke
Laughing at the punchline
Without hearing the joke

Knowing where you going
But clueless about the route
You'd cut across country
But the terrain just doesn't suit

That old tree looks familiar
An that rock
And barn
Are you going round in circles?
From dusk until the dawn.

Something's whacky
Your face a solid frown
******* your senility
You've got your map
Upside down.

Been digging through CDs this evening
Might sound like the vynl version
Of me dad
But that would not belong
Because he didn't
View music like that
Been grabbing random
With all due abandon
First Johnny Corndog
The giant Sand
Then Black Sunday
Cypresshillian  demand
Scot Lavenne
The Dust Junkies
The Beatles
And then the
Realest Of People
That makes
oasis redundant
Which turned into
Cohen.

There's no way
I said
There's no way
There's no
******* way
Not today
I mean
There's
Just
No way
That
That
Could
Start
Here today.

And it's stood there awhile
So long in fact
All that was left
Was residual
The flies had drunk their fill
The microbes obvs
Munching there still
A light off green mulch
Mouldering at will
Until
All fuel is gone.

I recall the King Kone
I think that was its spelling
Like a competitor to the Cornetto
The 80's market now swelling
For high sugar poison
To shove into
yer kids
Although I've got to say
We've only gotten much worse
In the Classic
On allerton road
They had King Kones
Not Cornettos
But that's where
I saw all of my movies
So it's a microcosm
Or maybe not cos
Picture houses of a different stripe
Deffo favoured Cornettos
As they passed through their life
In short it was a war
That only one side was fighting
God rest the King Kone
The Cornetto ***** lightening.

Back when my lower half still worked
When AstroTurf was where we learned
To off gas the weeks work
It was the nineties
The fancy dans
Got together
To bring down the leather
On the clearly less skilled
They thought that talent alone could ****
But they reckoned against
****** determination
And spitting bile we sure created
A ram it down your throat
Football unit
And soon enough
We certainly proved it
That if you
Like to but heads
Against the elites
You'll find
Their skill is weak and so effete.

There must be strategy and tactics
If they are not the same thing
Spacing pacing
Distribution o sizes
What does it take
To win all the prizes?
Is it resist first or tug?
Or maybe give it a shove
Oh no that clearly won't work
Blitzkrieg or endurance test?
As you sweat there in yer vest
It may seem completely manual
But it helps if you have read the manual.

When all is lost
Or just misplaced
It's time to panic
Your family disgraced
It's time to **** your pants and run
Edgey malaise  no longer fun
You thought it cool
Lurking near the edge
Strong winds wrapped  your trousers round your legs
Felt the tremor at the cliff's thin lip
Saw it might crack
Backed off right quick
Your tyres bald
Head getting there
There's little grip
Down there
Or up here
So when truth is hard
Become a liar
Let's roll round together
Like animals on fire.

Gunboat diplomacy
Dynamite archeology
Unnecessary surgery
The way we mince our words
Virtual friends and views
Terrible ends
We refuse
To see as nothing
That could happen to us
As conflagration moves like water
Over an acrylic floor
Which morphs into a globe form
To welcome in the war.

They eat well
For awhile
But they always
Get put down.

The Love
Is the like
And the repost
The love.

Klopp out,Slot in.Title won.

Friday thinks it's Saturday
Yet that day
Throws its hands in dismay
As it knows it's bound to
Sashay
In to Sunday's
Malaise

You were like thin bleach
On a ****
You smoothed it right out
And removed any residual nutrients.

How many moons are there?
Let me count the phases
No two faced duplicity
With this one
Always the same pockmarks displayed
She's got an extensive wardrobe though
A range of colours styles and cuts
Cycling through the fashion seasons
That creation did entrust
There seems more costume changes
Than when I was a kid
Maybe she's just got a better agent
Got to grips with this internet biz.

When I was a kid
The TarMac
Used to slowly weep
Bubbled up in the summer
Like it was seeking relief
We'd gather it up
On the end of lollipop sticks
Smear it on the arms and legs
Of all of our friends
Pretended it torture
Like it was searing the skin
Instead of pleasantly warm
Sweet smelling
Soft resin
The aroma of Cypress
And Cedar
And Myrrh
On those hot seventies days
Without a care.

I've just seen a pigeon
In the heavy rain
Clinging on to
The surface
Of a sheer brick wall
I didn't know
They could do that
I was waiting for the fall
Was this fellah
The Alex Honnold
Of his feathered breed?
Or do they do it all the time
And I've just never seen?
He flapped his wings
Now and then to adjust his grip
But he hung right in there
With barely a slip
Then I saw it
He motivation anew
The bird feeder was busy
He was stuck in a queue.

If Silent Echo ***** in the woods
And there's no one there to hear it
Does it make a sound?
And where does the bear fit in?

When you're in the subterranean chamber
That must be quite the feeling
In that tiny bubble
Just above the ceiling
grows a hillock
O the local limestone
A hundred foot above
Topped by more o the same
Blocks two and a haf million strong
Times approx two and a haf ton per block
Could be six million ton all told.

I'd **** me self.

When the good lord
Came up with fruit
He made it a bit of a test
The type that benefit
And the poisonous rest

Made us filter out the lethal
And the ones that made us sick
But once we did
We were grateful
And knew with which to stick

The colours
And the textures
The sweetness
Almost holy
The creator
Chuckled
To himself
Wait till they invent
Smoothies.

Round the corner from
McCartneys home
High as six kites
Me and tony did  gloam
From gobshite the clown
On what seemed a wind up
Stevie had just wound up
Took several calls back to make sure the truth
A young man had just ripped himself out by the root
Played Sunday league the next day
For the wrong team
And then later headed to Anfield
For the game
Gainst the Mancs
Which we won
Two nil
The funny thing
Stevie
Worked in the box office
There was six empty seats
All round about us.

You ever get that sudden surge?
You  Don't know where it came from
A salty pulse behind the eyes
That swells
Then leaves your skull
A smell
A taste
A tune
A movie
A wave from those
That have gone on
A hail from heart to brain
From where
They now belong.

The ancient Egyptian elites
Took an army o dolls to the west
Each had a role
To fulfill after the rest
And then life beyond
What was known
Each defined by a spell
The master never alone
Free to enjoy his boat o millions o years
While the Shabti labour
And absorb
All his cares.

Each of these *******
Has hundreds of tenses
If you pair em up
They could be
A dying king's
Incoherent instructions
for last ditch defences.
              
Go Run!
Get Put!
Take Turn!
Stand Set!
Strike fall!

I die! Uuurrrrggghhh.

My liege?!?!?

The throb you feel or you don't
Bounces off of some of
The things
That you want
But then again
There's the general malaise
That imagines
With no evidence
The things that you crave.

It's the Badminton horse trials today
Seems an exercise in futility
How are they going to
Toss up the shuttlecock?

Mark Rothko said it was always with him
No skull and crossbones needed
As through the canvas
You go swimming
He cared not for
Narrative
Or subtext
And such
Just how it made
You feel
Down deep
In your guts
The terror
The love
Overwhelming weight
That of history
And suffering
Belonging
And hate
Like smudged details of the universe
Doors without locks
A place he didn't put messages
A dead letterbox.

Today begins the Tenebrae
The extinguishing of candles
The gradual diminishing of light
Then a loud noise in the darkness
It's not practiced much these days
You need the requisite clergy
And the will to witness after midnight
the desire for which deserts me
It seems older than Christ
Redolent of the Egyptians
Like Sekhmet in her Karnak chapel
Unlit
Against time
Resistant.

Junior soprano mourned the ungrateful ticker
Hank pondered over the cold cold one
Yet neither
Kept theirs in a cage
Like yer man Cassablancas
Which was thrown in the ocean
Dragged down by the anchors
That he forged in life
Like our friend Ebenezza
Who thought the merry
Should have theirs
Skewered by the season
Poe got grassed up by his
Two sometimes beat tempestuous
Like **** and Liz
The Aztecs used to show it to you at the death
It will surely explode if you smoke too much ****
Solzhenitsyn summed it up there's nowt more to it
The border twixst good and evil
Runs right through it.

I don't know you now
Since the day you went to town
And came back to me.

The well is not dry
I've just lost my bucket
But that water
Is tainted anyway
So you know
**** it!

A ring of bright water
And one of
Guinness fire
Which one you wake up with
Depends on
Why you're alive

Cologne Essen and Dresden
Felt the whip of the whirlwind
In what was cast as
The thousand bomber raid
Though the numbers
Somewhat fudged
Still demonstrable
Terrible
Technological death
As the Blitz
And Coventry
Rolled back on their necks.

I am a line manager for the county
I'm in charge of the roads
Searching for someone
To supply tarmac
Cos we need loads
But there's no one
On the wire
I can hear my bosses whine
And the Wichita line manager
Is still on the line.

How much of us has gone into the planet?
And what does us mean?
When did we become a family?
Even before that point
They were fertilising
For millions of years
Mushed into the earth
Gratefully received
We started out doing the same
Until recently
With this sewerage game
Of course since then
We've pumped out
Some different ****
That goes down and up
Us mixed with chemical grit
Can Gia deal with that?
Long term?
The debate we get into
But like in the Middle Ages
That crap goes out the window.

The worlds roundest object
Made o silicone true
Is a wonder o the nature
O the way
That we do
****** forward
In search o unimpeachable truth
To replace solid things
With the digital new
Then unwavering
Unchanging
And for there
God to call
If he wants to trump it
It's the end o us all.

The boy is ignorance
The girl is want
They pump from the wellspring
The human font
Beware of them both
If doom you'd destroy
But of the two
Keep a closer eye on the boy.

Distant
Attendant
Superior
Shitbox
Character traits
The type impossible
To deal with in good faith
To deal with in good faith
The type impossible
Character traits
Shitbox
Superior
Attendant
Distant.

They'll go to the depths
Of your brain
When you are
Day dreaming
Drag up the thoughts there
Push em into the light
that pours through
Your east facing
big soulful windows
To be read
By them who have sight.