Wet sand

pulled grain by grain

around the beach

inland cove

to reaches

far out to sea

 

Sand pulled grain by grain

tossed and thrown

ground down

finer and finer still

taken as mountain

to cliff to bolder to pebble

to a single grain

 

Riven from hard granite

down to mineral dust

wrought by the suppleness

of the sea

and its salty caress

 

Pulled back and forth

by the strings of the moon

so that the oceans

pound the earth

to the pulse of

the moon

to the beat

of the earths core

 

From planet to moon

to sand

all right past

and utterly regardless

of man

 

Ground into blood meal

fine powder

red dust

scattered across soil

 

Fist full after

fist full

bloody fingers and palms

cast from heavy steel buckets

 

Blood meal

blood meal

ground down body and soul

shame to be so discarded

ground up and dumped

 

Its incidental

 

fertilizer for the flower beds

fine clusters of rose petals

rose heads

sweet scent

captivating in passing

 

Seasonal

Cyclic decay and rejuvenation

from the earth and hand

a bounty dragged out

backwards from a cornucopia

 

Plants from blood

Animals fed to animals

man eats all the animals

and discards responsibility

with arrogant contempt for

the planet and

fellow man

 

 

 

I feel the late summer

in my blood

as the heat of the sun

colours the hazel of

my eyes

 

From acceleration of

the verdant fertile

to the drying coldness

of the last days

of winter

 

Everything knows

that this lies ahead

late summer

to midwinter

full life to death

 

Chill walk the street

brittle leaves

crunch and crack

hands plunged deep into pockets

 

The morning sun

belies the temperature

when you left

 for work

your gloves remained

in the sideboard drawer

 

October gently

reminding that

winter is to come

as it blows

around you

making you

strain to see

if the next bus

is your night bus

home

 

--
Posted By electroweb to electroweb on 10/25/2007 08:24:00 AM

REST

 

Ivy and smoke

riddles and bones

ash and soil

 

Yew and elder

old cold stone

pinecone and moss

 

Jet black crows

rest and hop

crack crack craw

 

St Everilda's rests

in the nether

down lanes

along childhood

 

At the end of

foot worn tracks

 

Manhood past

amonst roses

and lawn

 

Field rolling roughly

to end as sandy

overhangs by the Ouse

 

Robin and Blackbird

sing out their praises

Red berrys and holly

Deer horns

Earths crowns

twist the morning mist

as flax spun

turning time

spinning natures breath

hot in and out

his hooves rest ready

 

As the Stags eyes

tie mine

Back and Forth

under the shadow

of an oak

 

I will horns from my crown

wish to Lock them

Rutt them

Feel the Power

of an animal spirit

 

Wish to share more

than this look

under the embrace

of an old english

Oak

 

Yet for all my shamanic dreams

of wild and wilderness

The Stag and I share

not freedom but confinement

Him bound to this stately park

and its walled reaches

and me to a growing

understanding of my own limits

in this deathly stuctured State

 

Whereby I as him

are Kept and Watched

Tracked

and Tagged

 

Farmed though not for my

meat, but my labour

 

Where once the image of the

Stag was one of freeedom

now it speaks to the heart

of loss

 

In that moment under a

mantel of green

the dark golden acorn

furred Stag

stands as a stark

reminder of what a

waste we've made of

our human nature

 

And the joys

we have let

slip through our

grasp

 

Whilst searching

to improve our

urban lot and

to feed banks

and not our hearts

 

To fill our days

with monotony

of working lives

that feed not our minds

our soul or body

with life

 

But with the urge

to lose ourselves

in drugs and drink

to forget how

we live to work

and work to spend

to spend

spend

no time on our

hearts

--
Posted By electroweb to electroweb on 10/11/2007 07:44:00 AM

Crocodiles teeth

Stick out from under my toes

which leave deep claw

marks on the kitchen floor

as I walk sleepily for

a class of water

.

To water my throat

moisten my innards

quench my thirst of

Thick dreams of mountain paths

And dog tracks

That lead back

to my sweat damp brow

.

The water flows freely from

the tap as an industrial stream

into a brown stoneware cup

.

The hair that grows more with each year

on the back of my hands

Looks like moss in the half light

That is a city night

casts shadowy

in my cave

.

I hobble back to my hibernation

wondering what is left

to dream

--
Posted By electroweb to electroweb on 9/12/2007 10:49:00 PM

Stray back amongst the trees

Dappled eyes hidden

Flashing Guilt down nerves

along tendons

 

Back amongst the trees

Dandelion leaves

and doubt

are worn as a

forested blackberry

crown

 

Wet feet trail across

dirty town tiles

old red with

dead 'n dyed

Ivy

 

Hunt back amongst the trees

Fallow 'n Fallen

Walk with pomp

grit and lies

thrown as petals

before their feet

 

Back amongst the trees

to curl like cats

Supine in Madness

lush and inky

green

The scent rich

in Burned promise

 

Ripe and busting

juicy needs

fall from your

lungs

 

The Rocks you've left

behind dissipate

leaving you

lost amongst the trees

 

To slowly decay

and be reclaimed

amongst the roots and drains

a splinted wash with flame

 

To rest as a sediment

Back amongst the trees

 

 

--
Posted By electroweb to electroweb on 8/08/2007 01:30:00 AM

I am like a poisoned Rose

I look like it could seem

so sweet to hold me close

 

But let me break the

Skin and I will slowly kill

 

My blood will turn Love and Joy

To Guilt and Sin

 

I'm like a poisoned Rose

given to kill

 

Worn in death's left lapel

my scent is darkness and honey

thick summer heart

and verdant decay

 

Alabaster petals shine

my masculinity sharp thorns

 

I'm like a poisoned rose

leave me be, please don't touch

for I am a poisoned rose

4 Turns

 

The Colour is Green

Fields and Summer

Tree tops

ripe wheat and Ivy

 

The Colour is Red

berry's and butchered Meat

An Hot ember on a

Crisp Autumn morning

 

The Colour is Blue

Slabs of fish and

Cracked ice

Winter feet and fire

 

The Colour is Yellow

Daffodils and Steep

banked Grass

Swooping Swallows

and singing Larks

Weathered Thoughts

Wind Chipped and

Cracked lime

 

Droop down heads

heavy and Dry

leaves Brittle

and Crisp

 

All turned as one

facing the ground,

Vase holding them Still

Held in Stately Grace

 

The Petals Slipped

From fresh to dry

Blood, The stems from

New Boughs to

Gallows

 

Thorns bite Just

as Bright,

the Sharpness is

not lost on a

Discarding Grasp

As I walked home,

at night

 

I stopped right dead

in my tracks

 

At a Beauty

to behold

 

Radiant

Cast in Sliver

Wreathed in golden reflections

of Galaxy dust

 

And for a Moment

A second

I beheld this with

 William's eye

 

And I was Lost

in wounder

 till I blinked

 

The Moon

back into the

sky

Growth,

I tasted you, just,

On the back of my throat

Rich feeling of your presence

Washed across me,

Fluid.

 

Storks Yellowed legs

Patted straw

Upon chimney tops

Of

Childhood dreams

Of

Child

 

Crimson rimmed ruin

Passed slowly

Through a pause of thought

At what juncture

Does it collapse.

 

Wings lift, white feather

tipped in grime

drift across

Train tracks

leaving forests of

long toms

behind

 

Roof tops crumble

Brittle stick house,

would never be home,

I

Think on you

And I blow

My own

home down.

 I freed myself of

Our spoken words

 

I cut our verbal

Interaction

 

The tendrils

That tied our

Connections

 

Brought us together

 

What ever

That really meant

 

Was ever to mean

 

When it's always

Wet on liquors

 

The whetstone

Of sour wit.

 

Danger money should be paid

to those whose job it is

to keep stoked

the egos of

others

 

Flies swarm the eyes

Beelzebub peels

the skin from

your tongue

 

As you smile at the

nonsense of the one

stood before

both bare

and fragile

 

Yet ready to bite

strike, venom

long teeth

right through

to bone

 

In the time it takes to

lick your lips

a slow breath, a pause to blink

 

Beads of saliva

molten sweat curse

criss cross the brow

 

Burn bite back,

"why of course," and

"by the way"

you begin

 

I have fish swimming

through my vein's

Parana eating my Brain

 

As I walk across parquet flooring

 

My socks are not silk

My shoes are not hand made

 

My hair grows in its own time

 

A gold fish swims past

my sight I feel the flick

of its fan tail on

the back of my eye ball

 

Small teeth nibble my

cerebal cortex

 

My jeans are not as expensive as Evisu

but not as cheap as I should afford

 

My pants are Marks and Spencers

Yet my toes feel the grass

all the same

 

As the twist of eels

settle in my intestines

 

Streams of Roe fall out from

my nose

 

My hands are Salmon fins

 

The Cravats I wear

were given to me

in a plastic bag by

a black haired Spanish

girl born in Camden

 

My spine erupts with

slashing Manteray tails

as my skin turns

to scales

 

I wear deadmans jackets

with old blood stains

on the cuffs

 

As my legs give way

to octopus suckers

and I grab hold of

a rock

 

O Posseiden am I

a man of many

fish, sea-life soup

on a Chinese table

 

Eaten by somebody

in a Soho noodle

bar

 

My fears as salty

miso tears.

Drifting logs roll

Slumber down

the lapping shores

of sleep

 

Bird song hums

above the flutter

of closing lids

lashes clasping

on a deepened

breath

 

 

The Wind blew southerly

Across the Square

 

Picking up leaves and litter

alike

 

Bits of dust and seeds

of London's Plain

Trees

 

Stung the corner

of a Man's

left eye

 

Pigeons flapped then flew

an ascending ripple

that grew

to a flock

 

Gone on the twink

 

As the wind blew Southerly

across the square

Black backed dominoes
Slam down under the Palm
chiming a crack of a
bull whip

Dragons lurk in glasses
Slowly sunk with Smiles
The afternoon is
in no hurry
to cast its last
ray's as a setting
Sun

Islands in Islands
Factual reflections
of history done

Wicker pinned against one

bedroom wall

 

Flashes of Bradford and Ashrams

recalled

 

Childhood salads of

grated Carrots and Apple

 

Baked Potato and Cheese

the smell of spices

and the flap of flairs

 

As people pass to go

to satsan

 

I sit in the kitchen

and play with my

Bond car

 

They Sing and meditate

I roll rubber wheels

in circles on lino tracks

 

And Chase baddies

while they chase

White light

Feathers fallen

spread like leaves

around the tree

 

The last flutter

after the Fox's supper

 

Feather fallen grave head

the reminder of

remaining pieces

 

remain reframed

as a winter

bloom

on a frosted dawn

 

Ethereal devoured flight.

Red sand rock
Hollow hung
over hangs
black sand banks
tidal silted mud

Crows carp and pick
up bits and pieces
food for thought
old penny claws

Gannets flap on struts
Old Dutch barge bobs
with the draw of
direction of the
old Fathers walk

Strings of cross it paths
float bedecked and bejewelled
with lights and tarmac
and the rolling gate of man

The Moon Sits
somewhere between Full
clouds drag themselves by
To much light
so the Stars remain dim

Night nearly always light
Darkness never
fully landing

The citys breath gently
holding it back
never deeply sleeping
never truly resting

It waits it moves
Its shakes
Up
all around its mass
Spins hubs of Interaction
as water runs through
This city runs its
last
far out to sea

This Island city
turns and spins
convulsions with convictions
Beyond Morality

This living wheel
of this Emerald Land

The Holy Trinity
of Masculinity
Bob Dylan
Bob Marley
and Lee Marvin
Amen

Courage
Stick your toe in
and it burns
Hot wishes
layed like wreaths
spread out
before the Cenotaph
Heroic, Tragic sad comedic
Brave to have tried
At least
it is remembered
Tin Can
Pan Man
with Navvy looks
sits reclined
before the TV
remembering on Sundays
Church long gone
forgotten dust and dry
Wetted by a single
tear on his Cheek
Of it
To have survived
this long
before their time
was even begun
Shame this Courage
is today still been
served to our
Sons

Relaxed back into a chair

hair top the light changing colour of

bottled poured Daffodils

playfully throwing the spring sun back

to the sky

Sounds of conversation

rolls across the grass

tall walls hang

from the castle side

to provided an edge for

blue flowers

and moss

somewhere for the laughter to bounce

Cares carried past

hooked by the clouds

This country pail is the perfect spot for Pimms

just like a fucking ad

I am relaxed by the

Sheer green solid blue

and the freshness of silence

Northsea waters

Sea reaches across the
span of body and land
rolls around rooted legs
feet dug deep in submerged sand

A watch tower of skin
encased bloody water and meaty
mass, organism of life sees with
reach far out to sea

waiting for the bravery to bare
the cold on his belly,
and swim.

O sequence of events
toss I like sand
from place to place
rolled and rumbled fish I step
steeped in a chemical sweat


Jump, Jam, Jingle
caught in an electro web
Trammed in cabs
to sink cocooned
in a bubble of
High Street house


From Dusk to Dawn to night
I dallied, wagon long gone
Friends bobbed like sea buoys
merrily flashing teeth
beacons that drifted
the time away

simple pleasure of existing
exhilarated and stopped
Paradoxical hands held
for the subtlety of touch
I and I as one
to rest pushed up
against a sofa