There's is beauty in the pipes
Or so we're told
So we would like
Wether
Stone
Lead
Copper
Or polycarb
Are in them liquid?or gas?
Perhaps a solid slow moving mass?
I feel quite confident now
They seem to be heading
Toward the Bar.

I think therefore I am
I'm pink therefore I'm spam
These are some one else's words
I'm just a piece o ham.

**** emery the feral cat
Used to rule the roost and tha'
With evil mind and solid *****
He'd freely enter into your halls

You'd have to throw him down the cellar
That psychopathic  little fella

Then don your anti cat armour
With hallucinogenic bacon
You'll cool his ardour

Then he'd sleep the sleep o the just
Slowly synthesising his potent musk
Then come around feeling sharp
Waiting Crouching in the dark.

No one ***** with **** emery!!!

People talk of Dicken's surge
They don't talk
For his
Violent rebirth
He got
Recruited
To a death squad
By the government
Of Franco
Before he
Lead
To a better
Tomorrow.

When you turn up
With nowt to say
But can't
Leave the keyboard
Alone anyway
What do you say?

She asked the wiseman
Could he describe nothing
He said no
But he'd have a go at everything
He began with
Aardvarks

How many times
Have you looked at a digital clock
Seen 9-11
And thought what are the odds?
On any given day it's 1440 to 1
If you calculate that way
Like Del Amitri said
Five oh five
Is not SOS
That's initially
How we got into this mess
So roll over avoid the distress
Of your screaming time piece.

My grandad lasted
Till 96
My auld fellah
Tapped out
At 74
Following that
Timeline
I should have died
Three years ago
Beat the house already
Oh what joy!

Flailing Wildy in the dark
Panicked dance
Unlikely arc
Stunted verse
Backed up flow
Narrative path
Nowhere to go
So calm your mind
And stand quite still
Take a breath
Pick up your quill.

My grandad on my mothers side
Was an idiosyncratic cat
Obsessed with engineering
Draughtsmanship and that

Recorded and catalogued
Big bands on a reel to reel
Oft silent in a low mood
You never knew the way he'd feel

But at Chrimbo came his home brew wine
and after a glass or two
He'd start to act all silly
Mug for the camera
Then the night was through

He had a turn of phrase
Long outmoded in the seventies
To the point of incomprehension
To the children of his latter days

If you asked what he was doing
He'd say I'm just scratching out my Ditty box
An invite to absurdism?
Or another life he'd half forgot?

I think he missed the war
And the certainty
It brought
As he poured over his old blueprints
The battles still unfought

Have you ever been to one of them Electric Hills?
Where gravity runs backwards
As up the incline you freewheel?
And it gets sold as part of a day trip package deal
With a ruined Abbey
And a plate of squid?

Your friends
Won't read your poetry
Foolish to think they would
Unfair too
To expect em to
This aversion
Is understood
For you won't
Get a true reaction
It'll be tempered
With kindness
And tact
But there's
Always one
Who bucks that trend
As a matter of fact.

It seems a burden
Such a weight
That
Is only you
Why did you spit
On the things
That made you
Now proved
Is it because
Now you know Better
Despite
Your
Weird
Helplessness
That
You
Plunge
Whole hearted
Into
That place

Surely not the tunes?

I think I remember
Something that I don't
I believe I'll push
Forward on a thing
I don't want
I think in fact
You've accessed
Excess
It's as sure as
Egg and cress
Oh baby
It's somat
I dont
Want

What would you do
If the aliens came for you?
If they landed and exclaimed
"We seek the one you call(insert own name here)"
Though no purpose they explained
Would you rush to their request
Acquiesce to their behest
Trust em cos that's who you are
An open heart
A mind ajar
The heart wants everyone to know
It welcomes all
It is not cold
The brain though is not so sure
Projected aims may not be pure
It knows our past in microcosm
What the tooled up
To the meek put on em
To collaborate or disappear
Safety now
Else
Posthumous rectitude through the years
They may think you creations saviour
Or are here to punish your foul behaviour
They could want you for what you think
Perhaps they've heard
You like a drink.

Walk to the edge of the pier
Look down at the
Unreflective
Nature
Of
The sea
And hope
That
There's
Something within
That you can
Talk about
With
Some
Of your family.

We the five percent
Demand the rest
Of you mysterious *******
Stand up and be counted.

The first time I felt betrayed by creation
Was when I first was able
To get it straight in my head
That I will not be at my funeral.

A reverberation not heard
At least not for awhile
Though you never
Sonically perceived it
Deffo made some people smile
Or even reverse snort their cornflakes
In nasal agony
The non reported sound
Makes this gaff more empty
Though a showboat is not off the cards
He could be waiting in the wings
To rush the stage unexpectedly
Rebound the whacky wonderful things.

A friend of mines mother just died
I haven't seen him for awhile
But when I think of him
It always makes me smile
I haven't got his number.

Stephin Merrit said
Every day in every way
I'm getting worse and worse
That must have been said before
Simple ******* in reverse
A fine counterpoint to Emile Coue's
Daft pronouncements
The late nineteenth century's
Proto Noel Edmonds.

That. How come you don't regress in a train
When you jump up and land again ?
Is a bit o a betrayal
It talks about
The way that we teach
The whacky constructs
That need more explaining
Than what we keeping talking
About
Again
Could we
Keep talking
To the end
Of which
There is no doubt.

Hunter wrote
All energy flows according to the whims of the great magnet
God knows what he meant
It was something of a tangent
What does it mean to you?
The energy that moves
That pushes through
The thing that propels
Your essence
Away from the shadow
That pursues you.

There's a map of heaven
You can download
Off of the internet
All the major religions
Have got one
Well them that have
An afterlife
And the lads in the Taliban
Have got to have theirs on parchment
You can do a VR tour
If your feeling that confident
Apparently the Hereafter
Plays out like a video game
Generating then deleting all That remains
And the memories too so you never get bored
as you bliss through eternity feeling adored.

But it's just a demo,you know.

The way of life
And executing a Will.

When you strike down
A ***** in Egypt
The Earth it feels alive
Reconnected
To the wellspring
So many questions inspired
You don't know how they did it
The carving
Transport
And placement
Shafts Driven
Arrow straight through the bedrock
To open technology's basement.

I stood on a mine
It was in one of them movies
Where you ok
As long as you don't take your foot off
I've been here
For three weeks now
I've looked for every
Possible out
To maybe backflip
Away from the devastating blast
Or have a science
Save my soul at last
But nothing is apparent
I eat my last protein bar a week ago
My time is fading fast
I've **** myself five times
Lost count of the ****
Can feel my tendons
Contracting
I think this might be it.

Working both floors
Like Joe Calzaghe
A flurry unrelenting
The nous to back off a bit

Moulded from a lad
By his dad
The cool Enzo
Who took over
When his trainer
Went silenzio

Bolstered the gym
Raised two other
World champions
In the small town of Newbridge
How could that have happened

Pushed Joe
When he was not sure
On and on and on
His boy he implored

To look within
And find more than himself
Through bust hands
And self doubt
Till there's nowt left

Enzo knew
Joey was about
To destroy
Three killers
Before he clocked out.

The boy stood on the burning deck
His legs were all a-quiver
He gave a cough
His leg fell off
And floated down the river.




Saturday night 70's telly.

Who did what to who
And was how it done
Everyone gets cruel
When there's  no gates to fun

But hang just a min
And reflect on style
Everyone gets jerky
Once in awhile.

Some of the foulest things
Were conceived
In the most beautiful
Of places
The pure alpine breeze
Cooled the mechanics
Of the elimination
Of races
Verdant green
The backdrop
For reeducation
Stark Mother Russia
The denouncements
The Cossackification
White Plains
Trinity
The United Nations.

Brevity is the essence of wit
Also grotesque laziness.

If you doubt the Lords beneficence
Let me put it on display
Why did he make it so simple
For us to run and play?
Why does coal burn so easy?
How come cows move that slow?
Why is there fruit and nuts
And ***** everywhere?
Food on land
Sky
And below
But he made a slight miscalculation
Concerning
Numbers
Hubris
And greed
The experiment had promise
Till just now
Duly noted
He proceeds.

PPP    Ppp

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P.        Pppppppppppp.        
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Pppppppp pp ppppppp
Pp
Ppppppppppppp
Pppp ppp pp pppp
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PPP ppp ppppp ppppppp
Pppppp Poetry.

Why is dyslexia so hard to spell?
Well,that's because the educationalists are cruel as hell.
And why is grandiloquent such a grandiloquent word?
Try to express yourself,you just sound like a ****.

There's a scaffold
Outside my flat window
They fixing the roof
At least I hope
That's what it's for.

I was told my poetry wasent literal enough
You got me there
In point of fact
It's just the wheezey stuff
One huffs and then puffs
But don't blow no house down
The ravening wolf
Who soft approaches
Wears his frown upside down.

The cartographer coddled by the satnav
He used to be king of the map
But he's become so reliant on it
Feels He should hand his qualifications back

The photographer produced such sterling work
Unattainable to the average ****
Now his darkroom tricks
Honed over decades
Leaves all cold
who can't do that?
We all reckoned

The scriptwriter a decade back
Pretended empathy with the working man
Total automation was the track
No human error was the plan
I'm ok I'm a creative they wouldn't dare replace me
Besides he laughed
No virtual engine could capture
The eternal verities.

This well has a bottom
But it's so far
To fall
You die of starvation
Before
You hit the floor
With weeks to think
About why
You plummet
You surely
Could compose
Many a Sonnet.

I have dreamt
But not often
Of falling through the clouds
Of our largest neighbour
In the moment
It's not specific
But it gets it location
When I wake
And then
I'm still tumbling
Will my atoms
Resist the break?

The mocking bird stands careful
Atop the cactus
in the heat
It drops its load
And flys off
It's yearly part in this complete
The droppings contain
A parasitic mistletoe seed
At night comes forth a tendril
When the host begins to breathe
It slowly wends its way in
Deep into the flesh
Reliant on the moisture
In which it sweetly rests
It's sits there near a Calendar
Then bursts out
In a Blossom
Of blood crimson red
Humming birds drink of its nectar
The cactus half near dead
Then at last the mistletoe
Bears its fruit
And the Mocking bird returns
To feast the cycle off once more
It's nutrition duly earned

If I didn't love myself
So much
I'd love you the best
But you're gone
And you're
Not coming back
Just like the old string vest
A fashion choice
Some would scorn
An anachronism
But it was comfy
And it kept me warm

I took it off
At your behest.

They don't like the way things are
Or were
And view them
As the same
They'd rather
It be chaos
And still
Apportion blame.

It's the night before they took him down
Imagine the damage
From when they take him down
The yanks of tired agony
Gainst the nails and the wood
The type of suffering
That is scarce
Understood.

Gravity is beating up light
But it's a Hollywood fight
Smoke and mirrors
Gravitational lenses
Viewed from the right angle
You can't tell the bar stool is made out of matchsticks
The camera placement as the cowboy slips the punch
The sheriff thrown through the sugar glass
Then it's a wrap for lunch
Or a Star Wars effort
Claiming they got two suns
We knew they were kidding
When the space telescopes come
Now with the Jimmy Webb
He deffo would have approved
Cos by the time he got to Phoenix
The whole universe had moved.

He wanted you to switch off your brain
Shun analysis
And lean into the paint
Leave aside conscious thought
And all the things you aint

Step inside
Past
Layers
And
Layers
Feel the work
For he is not saying
Give yourself over briefly
For you will not be staying

On wall sized panels
Dark enough
For all to handle
You will know
The soft limits of language
As you stride
Into the grand ditch
And stand there alone

They ask
How far back should we stand?
As from left to right they scan
We are almost out the room
It's getting out of hand

He frowns
As his head it itches
******* all these
Sons of *******


"Oh! All the way back
About eighteen inches.".

Just bin to see Fion Regan
Not really listened to his new stuff
But he knew
The audience
Played most if his
Devastating
Debut album
As well as the beauty
Interagnum
Of what
We lack
He been exposed
And written with the best
It's just funny
Catching up
To his behest.
Just simply one o the best.

When two is one
And one is nought
What is the magic
That makes one comport
What it is to calculate
The thing that makes us
Repopulate.

On Io
The eruptions
End up like pancakes
So hot
And liquid
They are
The plumes
Go so high
And get spread that much
The edges so far


Just a bit bigger
Than our moon
It's spew
On account
Of the friction
Between
It's daddy
And his own sons
Familial
Contradiction