He's a good man

He’s a good man, works hard for a living

He’s a good man, yes, he’s caring AND giving

He’s a good man, he eats what I cook, never makes a complaint

He’s a good man: drinker, smoker, player? These are things that he AIN’T

I trust him I love him, I’d sacrifice my life

If he asked me I’d say yes if he said “will you be my wife?”

He’s a good man, doesn’t swear when I’m about

He’s a good man; I’ve never heard him shout

He’s a good man, kind to animals and VERY good with kids

He’s a good man, looks after his mates when they are on the skids

I trust him I love him I’d give up on my career

If he asked me I’d move just so we could be near

He’s a good man; he’s useful round the house

He’s a good man, ain’t scared of spiders, ain’t scared of a little mouse

He’s a good man, neat and tidy, polished shoes, clean nails

He’s a good man, comes shopping, even takes me to the sales

He’s a good man, he respects me and the decisions that I make

He’s a good man, he knows a relationship’s about give and take

I trust him I love him with him I’d run away

I’d give him all I have if he wasn’t fucking gay.

tired

Tired, tried to sleep but couldn’t, closed my eyes but my brain wouldn’t

Stop, returning, turning, spurting, spurning my desire to be free.

It cajoled me, decided to hold me, in it’s crazed ferocity.

It took me back through years, tears, fears and opportunities. Reminded me of lost loves, bad boys, and gorgeous girls until my mind was full of whole communities; babies, toddlers, teens, young adults, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, witnesses and a vast array of smaller cults.

Battered me with images of bodies writhing, riding, biting, fighting, none of them were law-abiding, all were moving, pushing, pulling, slipping, sliding. Kisses, strokes, nibbles, sucks; glimpses of a thousand fucks.

Tired, tried to sleep but couldn’t, closed my eyes but my brain wouldn’t…slow the pace. It showed me each and every face I’d ever kissed, each and every one I missed, didn’t do it like a list, didn’t have any rules; a brother then several fools, a mother then two friends on stools, then another, then one that drools, then one other draped in jewels. I tried to make connections, tried to put them into sections but I couldn’t make corrections, they were right but no, that’s wrong, those are good, those are strong, they definitely do belong, but those two can’t go together, can‘t be in each others life; that’s HER husband and that’s HIS wife, that’s a cousin, that’s a nephew okay, that’s a niece but where is the connecting piece? There’s my father without warning, I’m going to be so tired in the morning….

happy new year

So…the end is near and now we face another countdown…

New Year’s Eve rears its head and we’ll all dance to Motown

Auld acquaintances will be remembered and contact will be made

Memories will be rehashed and slightly over played

Stocks will be restored because we gorged all over Xmas break

Food, drink, class ‘A’s and ‘B’s we said we wouldn’t take

Are in our bellies and our minds are starting slowly to recover

But soon will come a night unlike any other

Where gentle steps become leaps and bounds as we push head long into fever

Friends come out, drunks fall about and we are both or either

Battles fought for tickets sought are forgotten as we enter

Buses, full and FREE, tubes packed with glee, we get into the centre

This way, that way over there, let’s stop and get our bearings

In that bar we’ll have a jar and we can start to share things

He’s feeling down, she’s coming up, we’ll have one more then we really have to leave

He starts to cry, she’s really high and I think I’m going to heave

Music’s pumping, people jumping, smiles on all our faces

Pubs and clubs are fit to burst; it’s crammed in all the places

Queues are long, anticipation’s strong, wide-eyed nervous looks

In the line friends of mine, from work, school, one or two are crooks

All here to drink with cheer, another year is nearly done

Battles fought hard all year either lost or clearly won

The ticking tocks, an eye on clocks, the end is very close now...

…From 10 down to 5 the joy begins, please don’t be morose now.

From 5 down to 4 the fun’s begun for those that couldn’t wait

For some a show to let others know that they’ve decided on their fate

Bells ring out people shout and everyone is kissing

Glasses clink as we all drink to those we wish weren’t missing.

.IT’S A LONDON THING

Aldwych, Aldgate

Brixton, Bishopsgate

Clapton, Clapham and Camberwell (of course)

Dulwich to Denmark Hill, where it gets a little more coarse

Guns at the ‘Elephant’ ain’t the same as Eton rifles

T.A.’S, P.T.A’S funded by fetes and fairs selling home made trifles

Gimps, goons, gangsters, gentlemen and gays

Harridans, harlots, whores and ones that go both ways

Islanders, idealists, inbreds, inmates

Jokers, Jehovahs, jugglers, jailbaits

Kennington/Kensington the difference is clear

Londoners all, I hold all of them dear

Mates, muckers, marauding mobs

Neighbours, knockers, nutters and (k) nobs

Opportunists in Oxford Street making their marks

From Putney to Peckham, it’s plastered with parks

Quiet, quaint, quintessentially queer

Richmond’s a royal one, with surprisingly, deer!

Status symbols slip silently passed

Tottenham to Totteridge, that journey’s not fast

Uxbridge, the outskirts, all similar places

Vauxhall’s where you’ll see a vast array of faces

West Ham, Wimbledon, Watford, both places AND teams

Excessive, exciting it explodes at the seams

Youthful, young, incredible old, yet constantly new

Zealots, Zionists there’s even a zoo.

A good man is hard to find

He’s a good man: works hard for a living

He’s a good man: yes, he’s caring and giving

He’s a good man: he eats what I cook, never makes a complaint

He’s a good man:  drinker, smoker, player? These are things that he ain’t!

I trust him, I love him, and I’d sacrifice my life.

If he asked me I’d say yes, if he said “will you be my wife?”

He’s a good man: he won’t swear whenever I’m about

He’s a good man: I’ve never heard him shout

He’s a good man: kind to animals and he’s very good with kids

He’s a good man: looks after his mates when they’re on the skids

I trust him, I love him, and I’d give up my career

If he asked me, I’d move so we could be near

He’s a good man: he’s useful all round the house

He’s a good man: ain’t scared of spiders, bugs or a mouse

He’s a good man: neat and tidy, polished shoes, clean nails

He’s a good man: comes shopping, even takes me to the sales

He’s a good man:  he respects me and the decisions that I make

He’s a good man: knows a relationship is about give and take

I trust him I love him, with him, I’d run away

I’d give him all I have, if he wasn’t fucking gay.

Alphabetti spaghetti

A is for apple

B is for bite

C is for crunch

D for delight

E is for eggs

F is for food

G is for everything that can taste good

H for humus, halibut and ham

I for inventive, which in the kitchen, I am

J is for jelly, juices and jerk

K for knives in the kitchen, where I do all my work

L is linguini, lunch even liver

M is for mushrooms, whole or a sliver

N is nuts, nachos, soup made from nettle

O is for oranges, which help the stomach to settle

P for pork, peaches, and plates fit for a prince

Q is quail, quavers or quince

R for rabbit, ravioli or the rivers I fish

S for sugars, sweets or savouries served on a dish

T is for tarts, treats like tiramisu

U for utensils and ugly fruit too

X is for Xmas where we eat to excess

Y is for yolk, yam…do I like food? The answer is yes

Z is for zest. Food is the best

Sharing is good to...

To share a bus, you only have to step on board

To share a train, the same

To share a meal is a wonderful thing

It is good to share the blame

To share your feelings can be hard

But worth taking a chance

If you share music, you may share a dance

SOMETIMES, I DON’T WANT TO SHARE

SOMETIMES I WANT IT TO MYSELF

SOMETIMES I HIDE WHAT I HAVE

To share your thoughts can, in some places, get you put in jail

It’s good to share shelter from snow and hail

“Share and share alike.” They say. THEY have plenty

Sharing a bath ensures you get dirty

Sharing a shower is a lot more flirty

Sharing communion is tribal cannibalism

Sharing a moment of beauty lives with all that shared it forever.

Everyone wants an equal share

Sharing space is hard with strangers and amazing with lovers

Sharing fluids….

I like to share. Do you?

It's time to give...

Give us this day our daily bread, please, please give me head

Give us a chance, give us room, I give my daughter to this groom

Give me a break I’ve only just arrived, give me credit I survived

Give me the strength to carry on, give me the power to know right from wrong

Give me your wallet or I’ll ruin your health, give him enough rope to hang himself

Give generously, please, give what you can, give me help, give me a hand

Give us your keys, give us your phone, give me space, I want to be alone

Give me time to finish it, give me paper I need a shit

Give us a smoke, give us a puff, give it a rest, I've had enough

Give us a smile, it ain’t that bad, give me a kiss and make me glad

Give us a reason to do what you say, give us the money, you have to pay

Give us the red, no, give us the white, give it your all give it your might

Give it some give it your all, give it to me give me the ball

Give it now give it here, give me enough for a pint of beer

Give us a light give us a fag, give me the remote you slag

Give me shelter, give me sanctuary, give it to me up the ‘Gary’

Give me somewhere I can hide, give me a lift, give us a ride

Give me some, give us half, give us a joke, go on, and give us a laugh

Give me a ring give me a call, give me a leg up over this wall

Every woman is every woman

Every woman is every woman

To a player like me

Every woman is every woman

When they lay by me

Each kiss I miss, so much each touch, the love was shared, I showed I cared

You felt it too, but, I dealt with you.

Every woman is every woman

Every word spoken, a lie

Every woman is every woman

Each promise will be broken by and by

Each moment I cherish, I know, it will perish and I’ll hold you as you cry.

Every woman is every woman

Innocence is fleeting

Every woman is every woman

It’s new danger you’re meeting

With words of honey, you’ll think that it’s funny how,

You were happy alone before I helped you to moan

Encouraging laughter, but, nothing after:

No meal, no drink no reason to think there was anything wrong, then, before long, gone.

Every woman is every woman

To a loser like me

Every woman is every woman to a user like me

Hiding my faults, secrets and lies

Twisting out of emotional ties

Always there, but never around

At family ‘do’s’ I can’t ever be found.

Every woman is every woman

To a bully like me

Every woman is every woman

You won’t, fully, like me

It isn’t the pain from some long lost love or ‘cos we fit like a hand in a glove

It isn’t my father who is to blame

It isn’t my mother, she’s exactly the same

My mind isn’t twisted, defective or dud.

I wasn’t dropped (as a tot), with a big heavy thud.

It isn’t fear of commitment, I don’t fear the unknown

There isn’t some childhood ‘issue’ I haven’t outgrown

It’s just when I’m with you, when us two are alone and the door is locked, I’ve turned off the phone…my pleasure is yours and yours alone.

Mr Bombastic

Slow down sucker, you’re going tooo fast

Keep doing that and you’ll end up on your arse.

Nobody likes, NO BODY likes the way you move, you mss the beat, you’re out of the groove.

Your hands are doing this, feet doing that. That  ... thing on your head, you call it ‘a hat’?

Take a breath, take a pause, take your time and take it easy.

When you gyrate the girls feel queasy.

Please don’t. Please don’t thrust. Point the other way if you must.

Don’t twirl, don’t spin rotate, or pirouette, just go outside and smoke a cigarette.

When you dance you always have space ‘cos of your hairy, scary dancing face….

Ashley's Drink

One step forward, two steps back.

A week of bliss then…a double ‘Jack!’

“No pain, no gain!” So I join the gym.

My brother’s birthday and I’m drinking gin.

Consumed by guilt, I stay home and mope I’m surviving on sweet tea…and dope.

A month goes b and I’m feeling fine, so with dinner…a glass of wine.

“It’s okay! I’m in control!”

Within a week and I’m in a hole, so far down I need help up.

“I PROMISE! NO MORE FROM THE DEVIL’S CUP!

A promise is a promise that will never be broken. (But the devil and Iwere only joking)…2 pints later and THAT promise I break…I give my soul for him to take...

I drink at home, I drink in bars, on the street and in cars. I drink until I drink too well and end up in a Brixton cell.

It’s okay, it’s nothing new. I know the drill and what to do: Get my head down, get some sleep and pray to GOD my soul to keep.

You can't be like me

Use.  Abuse.  Choose.  Easy rhymes to tamper with.

Love.  Stroke.  Caress.  Easy actions to pamper with.

Without commitment they're the same.

Without commitment what's in a name?

If the juices flow and the body hardens, who cares if the mind broadens?

(You do, I do, but continue we must, lost in the pleasure of each others' lust.)

If the rhythm flows who cares for love?

Swapping and changing 'til we are both above

the humdrum doldrums of everyday life

knowing the pleasure will cut like a knife.

A finger so fat with a feeling so thin, allows it to slip easily in.

Damn!  There's that emotion again, slipping and sliding into my mind, while our bodies are having such a good time.

Send it away with a flick of the wrist or crush it with a powerful kiss.

Get back to the love, you know it is there.  Grab hold of a hand or put your hand through their hair.

Shut your eyes.  Open your soul and suddenly, your orgasm's whole.

Why Bezeal went to the city

On a moonlit beach shadows of clouds played on the rocks.  Shaman-Ca watched as the horse Bezeal trotted the rock in rhythm with the sea and air.

"I will dance 'til my spirit bleeds.  Worlds spin fast and you stamp your feet."  She called across the cove.

"Your body moves to an ancient beat."  Replied the white horse in joy of the age of the crones' spirit.

Shaman-Ca wondered where Bezeal had been.  The scratches and dirt on his body smelled strange to her.

Bezeal was tired, for he had galloped to release the smells and his energy was sapped.

"I am tired.  I needed to run I have been to the City and could do no more than trot for three days.  No room."  Bezeal explained.

The old goblin woman shouted from her ledge,

"Release the pressure as well as the smells, yes Bezeal?"

Bezeal shook.  The sweat flicked into the moonlit sky and became stars.  It hit rock and crystallized becoming one with the rock.  Where the beads dropped in the water a new creature swam.

Shaman-ca came to Bezeal when he was still, she spoke softly to him.

"With my bird-bone rattle and my goat skin drum.  With my cold river eye, and my hot fire tongue.  Did you see me when you were running wild?  Will you bring me to your madness child?'

Bezeal related his story to the unnamed star, the ragged queen.

"I followed a brother who was taken by machine to the city."

Bezeal had no reason, many brothers had gone before, owned grounded brothers always left in machines and Bezeal had never followed before.  This brothers' love, desire to be free was known to Bezeal and he felt he would be freed and had gone to rejoice with him...

"When I found him I spoke to his spirit.  The fire and the fury and the fear were wed and he crooned and swayed at the misty edge."

Shaman-ca felt Bezel’s 'brothers' fear and fury blow through her untamed womb leaving a jagged seam.

"There's much to be learnt through a crazy eye." 

Said Shaman-Ca and she began to massage Bezeal.  Her strength, her knowledge, her love brought ease to him.  And he slept.  And he dreamt.

Shaman-Ca watched the moon.

Bezeal rocked like a nest in a shifting marsh.  He opened his thoughts and let them wander, and Shaman-Ca thought of her knowledge of the place where Bezeal had been, and of the trees of the place thought of forests of trees.  The birds thought of their other brothers who were gone, they thought of the distant brothers who had disappeared and had no children.  For the history of a place belongs to all.

Shaman-Ca offered this knowledge to Bezeal.  His thoughts were open and welcoming.

Bezeal awoke and thanked Shaman-Ca for the massage.

"Joy can be found.  Anywhere."

He said.

"My home is the claw of a tangled path"

Replied Shaman-Ca.

"I know nothing is as it seems."

Said Bezeal and he left the cove and Shaman-Ca thanked the moon for her help in showing Bezeal her knowledge.  Then she slept.

Oh dear....

If you've got to move on, move on quickly, don't look back

don't look over your shoulder and give yourself a heart attack

What's gone is gone, what's done is done there's no point in crying

it's over, finished, done with, there's no point in lying

the tears' are crocodile's, the feeling's dead

don't be embarrassed, don't go red.

Intimacy isn't never ending, love is just a laugh

wash the past away in a soothing mellow bath

the beauty wasn't real the soul was never touched

mind mingling?  Bollocks, just a few good fucks

don't wade through the memories, you mustn't let it linger

If you want to come again then use your middle finger

does your heart beat quickly?  Does your heart beat slow?

If you ever loved it didn’t fucking show

please don't say forever while I can hear your words

it was just a dirty joke I possibly misheard

I believed you when you lied I listened to your shit

now on your burning body I wouldn't even spit

I trusted, went bare back and now I’ve got V.D.

You gave him part of you now I have him in me.

I should have used you for a ride not believed you had a heart

now I feel pain because I know we have to part

but that doesn't really matter 'cos I knew it was a game

and you must never feel guilty 'cos I did the fucking same!

Love, Lies and Promises

Lying next to each other, gently rising from a sleep encased in the air of the night before.   

Salty arid atmosphere, comfortable in the sweat and stains of the sheets.   

Happy for the touch of dirty, sexual skin.  Glad to feel the pressure before we open our eyes to the empty room.   

Emptiness filling our guts, our insides.  Inside our heads, our stomachs, our rib cage.  Both of us empty of explanations, empty of positivity, all of it drained by the passion and lust of the night before.

The warmth of the night lingering, lying in the cold light of day.   

In seconds, memory slowly plays back to us the promises of the night.  Each kiss a promise, tens maybe hundreds of broken kisses we've exchanged in the air of the room, floating aimlessly around, needing somewhere to rest.  But a breeze blows in and they scurry out of the room through cracks in the floorboards, under the door or back through the window.

"Morning."

Cold-hearted reality drifts in on an early morning day dream.  

Lust was the lie, love was the promise.

loneliness is not neccessarily sad

A feeling, a knowledge, a sensation pulsing round your body, a knowing, burning idea formed into a crystal truth, the difference between right and wrong, good and bad, love and hate.

Suddenly you'll feel it and accept it or deny it. 

Trust your instinct but in the next instant instinctively change your mind. The games you play when you are alone with silence, a world full of possibilities, chances, changes, mistakes, lucky breaks, decisions, resolutions, a time to form plans, create paths on which to travel, remember incidents the way you saw them, turn them back through your memory and know.

Dream a little, realistically, ridiculously, dream of pleasure, planes, places, journeys of joy, touches of beauty, gifts you'd give, presents you'd receive, of no value, just better memories. Peace in your time.

Knowing man can live together, knowing this is true while you sit alone, desperate for it to be true.   

No reason to run, nor hide, the colour of your skin, the clothes you wear, it doesn't matter, together with belief and positivity it can work.

But reality dawns on you, as if the sun had risen suddenly, so quickly from night and dreams to midday and a city full of sinners like you are bathed in the light.

The struggle continues.  Do you allow the dreams to fade into memory and the nightmare reality cover your eyes, or sleep through hoping both to be a dream or be hit by a knowledge that hope is truth and love is strong and you are completely mad.

Loneliness is not necessarily sad, but rarely constructive.

The Journey

I am trying to rhyme the passage of time and tell you the journey of Ms Mcinerny, how after a while and a trip down the aisle she became Mrs Chamberlain.

I'll begin as I do, in the beginning, when boys turn to girls and men turn to women, strange desires well up inside and they are not scared of the word bride!

Don't be surprised, don't be afraid, this was a time before you were made, when gentlemen didn't mean bog and being a lady wasn't such a hard slog, manners were better, people polite, children were good and always much quieter.

Joseph and Nora, yes those were their names didn't know squat about video games.

When she was little she played 'hoop and stick' and when he was little he thought cricket was quick.

Are you getting the idea, understanding the score or should I continue and compare us some more?

These two didn't hook up by chance, they met every week at their local dance, they talked very little but danced quite a lot and I am sure, at times, it got pretty hot.  I mean in the summer and under the lights, not in his pants or in her tights, this was the time of courting and wooing not like now with all the frying and toing. 

When passion was something that just had to wait, and kisses exchanged at her garden gate.

Joseph was gentle and Joseph was kind, Nora was patient, she didn't mind, Nora would laugh at the jokes Joseph told and ever so slightly Joseph grew bold.  Nora would blush with her hand to her breast and Joseph would imagine the rest.

Soon came a time when they would meet in the day, for tea at her parents I would probably say.  A quiet affair when fathers decide whether their girls become brides.

Would he let Joseph take Nora away? He was after all the one with the say, it isn't like now in Britain today where all fathers do, is pay. If they can be found and if they have thousands of pounds, then their involvement is clear; "don't drink the whisky stick to the beer!"

Well father approved and shook Joseph's hand, then our couple saved and they planned and as soon as you like the big day arrived and Joseph wondered how he'd survived the evenings he'd spent with his betrothed so very close but still fully clothed.

Nora felt it as well but by her demeanour you couldn't tell.

Her mother, who loved her, had said that it hurt so Nora had good reason to keep being curt, but Joseph was gentle and Joseph was kind and when Nora looked in his eyes she would find, love and affection, a sense of protection, a warmth from within, she knew what they had wasn't a sin, so she held Joseph close with a big Cheshire grin.

The church was full; the priest at his altar, Joseph prayed that he didn't falter. A quiet came down as the organ begun, the doors opened wide and let in the sun, Joseph turned to look at his bride and Joseph's face filled up with pride as father and daughter walked down the aisle. 'Smiling' Joe Chamberlain started to smile and that's what it's like inside my head the day my grandparents wed.

commute? It just doesn't compute

I'm so lucky I don't commute,

What you guys do just doesn't compute.

You guys get up at sparrow’s fart,

for some train driver to break your heart.

For a whole month’s journey you've already paid,

only to find the journey's cancelled or delayed,

and if the train arrives on time

it's overcrowded and full of grime.

You share your carriage with some who stink,

but the ones who I would hate, I think,

are those that sit in aisle seats

and tut about having to move their feet,

who won't move over when they're asked

but just swivel their fat arse.

They don't try to make life easy,

in fact they make me queasy.

They make me want to punch and fight

which isn't normal and isn't right

before the day is even light.

There's only one mode of travel worse

and that is riding in a hearse.

Another piece of floaty soaring mind pinballt

Tumbling down through the clouds only made me realise how high I had been.  Above and beyond, further then I’d ever been, touching sky, stars and the sun and now, as I rolled and fell towards the darkness, I couldn't picture firm ground and so I continued to drop.

Each twist and turn emptied my stomach, a void around me and a void inside me and me watching the fall from above and below,......Below!

I tried to fill my soaring body with the feelings from the below me, the terra me, the constant me.  The above me flickered once, twice then disappeared.  I took control of my fall and began to float beneath the clouds but still above the earth and still descending.  This gentle descent was giving me time but I didn't know what for, I couldn't work out whether I was supposed to look back at the high me or decide to land.

I looked back or up, as it were, to the clouds but couldn't find a gap, couldn't find a way through to the blue infinite.  A sudden twist then the tumbling began again, over and over, flicking frightening turns I had to pretend they weren't happening so I could find the stable me and float again.

The decision was easy then and I concentrated hard on the earth me, but as soon as I locked in the rate of speed at which I fell increased to such a frightening pace that I broke off the connection and stared up past the clouds and so I remained floating gently too scared to believe in anything.

FEET FEELING

Enclosed in cotton, then encased in tight leather, my feet begged for forgiveness and air, so I stopped walking in the midday sun and looked around for somewhere to sit.  Unfortunately for my feet the only bench I could see was at the top of the hill.

They wept when the message was sent down from my sweaty brain but they did as they were told once they realised my purpose was to get there and stop.

When I reached the bench and turned to place my tired arse on the wooden slats I could hear my toes screaming, "Release us, let us out!  Stop squashing us!"

So I stood still for a couple of seconds to teach them some manners and rocked gently from heel to toe.

As I looked out across the park, the sounds of children directed my gaze downhill to the left and there I saw....no don't tell.  I blocked out what I saw and denied my brain the freedom it usually had to pass thoughts around, took a deep breath and began to walk back down the hill.

"No!  You promised!"  Said the outside of my left foot.  The toe that isn't quite the littlest rubbed harder against my shoe and began to blister in annoyance.  I gritted my teeth and stepped out with my mind closed to the orders my unhappy feet called out to me.

They were trying to halt my progress in any way they could, they cramped up inside the arch, they looked for lumpy ground to unbalance me, used all the salt so my calves became tight and jerky, but on I strode, my purpose and destination a secret.

As the sound of children grew ever closer I had to trick my feet into believing I had friends in a playground, but occasionally the joy of what was happening made me quicken my pace, so I let it happen. I let the joy control me and began to run, which they hated and nearly tripped me up.

I climbed the 3 foot fence and as I placed my foot on the other side I slipped my hand down my leg and rolled my sock down and with one action pulled off my damp shoe and wet sock.  Before the air could really let my foot breathe I had the right sock and shoe off and was rolling up my trousers.

Just before I looked up I stopped, closed my eyes and opened them while I gazed into the blue sky.

More memory and guesses than truth and terrain led me to the edge of where I wanted to be.

Confused, my feet spread across the earth and grass and allowed the sudden, natural environment to envelope them and before they had adjusted to that I waded into the paddling pool.

"You bastard, you beautiful, beautiful bastard!"  They both screeched in delight.

Control on drugs

Out of it, in a spin

No care for my soul nor for my health

None for you, or for myself

Letting go but not letting you in.

Don't bother me with barriers!

Feeling the rush, accepting the haze

Opposite to what you think and allowing my soul

to take over to be the control

guiding me through this beautiful maze

Don't talk to me about carriers!

Blocking out all negative thoughts

Accepting only positive vibes

I won't begin to analyse

or see any of the obvious faults

Don't expect any virginity!

I'm too far gone to understand

what it might be that makes me smile

maybe I feel just like a child

happy for the touch of your hand

Allow me to enjoy this infinity?

Comfort

I wrote this awhile ago but it seems quite apt right now

"All I need is a roof over my head and food and I am happy.   

You know, somewhere to wash of course and a toilet 'cos I don't like communal ones or communal baths, other peoples' pubes in your soap, that sort of malarkey, as far as I am concerned if you have to put paper down every time you want to go to the toilet that doesn't make you feel confident.   

Yeah, just a room with a private WC and somewhere to cook.  You know a little kitchenette will do.  Just room for an oven, a fridge, a little table or even a breakfast bar 'll do. 

I'll sit on a stool, I’m not proud.   

As long as I’ve got a roof over my head and food and water and somewhere to wash and a private wc,  with somewhere to cook and eat, 'cos you don’t want your clothes smelling of bacon and eggs!

Somewhere to sit and read or whatever, you know I don't need luxuries like the TV.   

Although it would be NICE to sit down and watch the news or stuff that was important, and there has been some well received films but I’m not much of a cinema goer so it wouldn't matter if they were old before I got to watch them or if the TV. itself wasn't remote, 

I wouldn't mind 'cos I wouldn't watch it much.   

Just read and maybe listen to the radio.   

Oh.  I'm not saying I need a radio but I need some sort of warning system if there was a war or a nuclear attack or a flood or a railway crash or another national disaster.   

Apparently you might as well get one with a c.d. player as not these days. I could just have a few classical discs, maybe some old jazz, there is some house stuff I enjoy, early Stones I quite like, late Beatles, some Reggae, you know, Studio One stuff, coupla dub plates, ska, the usual suspects,  you know? 

No, I don't need much, just a roof over my head, somewhere to wash, a private wc, a place to cook and eat, somewhere to sit and read or listen to music or watch t.v. with a view or even just leaves on a tree would be fine, or overlooking a park, that'd be nice, as long as I could see the stars at night.

jazzz collaboration

Heavy rain fall, dark grey clouds.  Speed rain, puddles filling up drains.  Night, lamp lights, vacant street, people rushing, umbrellas, raincoats.

Footsteps-shadows-silhouettes.  Lower halves of people visible.  Heavy clattering quick steps, squelching slow inside my head, echoing frightening following.

Squealing tyres.  Car slamming on brakes, skidding, sliding to a halt. Shouting loud music, locked arms, shock, bright lights of a tyre garage.  Burning smell?

Church bell scary movie!  Church tower in the day, cemetery at night, brightly lit paths.  Dark stone history surrounded by railings quiet apart from that sound.  Welcome/unwelcome.  Kestrels flying over flower gardens.

childish bully

People cower, people fear

Whenever I am near

When i'm in goal no one scores

'cos i frighten them with my "roars"

In the line, I go where I please

I threaten people with my knees

I kick as well, oh I can kick

I punch as well, yeah I punch quick

I'll punch if you are in my way

I'll punch if you go, punch if you stay

If i don't get the comprehension

you know that there'll be tension

I do not like to make mistakes

I do not like to wait

Numbers muddle up my brain

I do not like wet play or rain

I don't like to do what i ought

I do not like it when i am caught

I will deny the facts

I do not, will not do maths

If I were to speak truthfully

I am sometimes, quite a bully

I don't mean to hurt people’s feelings

And I let go if they start squealing

Topics are rubbish, science is boring

Assemblies!  Please stop me from snoring

No I won't do as i'm told

I don't need a jumper it isn't that cold

I'm GOING  to my quiet zone

Why don't you just leave me alone!