The mountain

The mountain was the love of women that the eyes want to climb
The mountain blanketed by a crowd of lovers, their songs and stories

The mountain made from history and formed to remind us of a higher life above us
What do we do but crawl up it to the top and see the world below and remember

That was the best achievement a man could ever aim for
To climb and go no further than thin air

The planets await us we say but what do they see from up there
In the extraterrestrial dream-nights world

Did they sleep, did they dream, what did they see?
Higher than the highest mountain they seemed to climb

While on earth the worms congregate in the moonlight and believe

He’s just a lonely postman

He’s just a lonely postman
Going on his walk
He’s on his second delivery
And he feels he wants to talk

The girl in number 24
Used to be his wife
For a few words with her
He’d really give his life

“Knock, knock”,
“Who’s there?”

“A voice from the past”
“Well I don’t care”

He’s going out for a drink tonight
With the boys from easy one
He’ll play at karaoke
And pretend he’s having fun

But he feels so down
He feels just like a clown

How many squares are in a word?

How many squares are in a word?
How many words in a square?
How many triangles are in a sentence?
How many sentences are in a triangle?
How many books are there in a circle?
How many circles are in a book?

How many words form a cube?
How do they fit into the corners?
How many sounds are in a globe?
How many globes emanate from a sound?
Where does the noise in space come from?
Where does the space in noise disappear to?

How many words are found in a time span?
When does a time span begin from a word?
How many ears listen to a sound?
How many sounds are found in an ear
When did the ear and the voice come from?
When did the voice know the sound it made?

I know that when she’s laughing

I know that when she’s laughing
Things are not so good
She doesn’t stand beside me
She runs away

Making fun of my mistakes
Is deeper than just fun
Is deeper
And there’s nothing I can say

I thought that I could love her
This way, that way
Her way, my way
But none of this seems any good

And she’s laughing, laughing, laughing
And I’m a fool in love
And I’m crying, crying,
Crying in my blood

I thought that I could love her
That she would understand
That she would understand
My love

The building work, the foundation work
That would support our love
But the foundation work
Has not been any good

And I know that when she’s laughing
Things are not so good
She doesn’t stand beside me
She runs away

Making fun of my mistakes
Is deeper than I thought
She’s laughing
And there’s nothing I can say

She’s laughing, laughing
Laughing at me
She’s laughing
And there’s nothing I can Say

Broken and in dark health

Broken and in dark health
The world dragged me behind it
Like a bundle of soiled rags

I submerged my ace in the shadow
And listened to the thoughts of monsters
– That flew on arrows of dust and fire

The lift shaft of forgetfulness
Sucked me down into the pit
My eyes became elongated eggs

So many songs broke into my heart
Like an orchestra crashing into rocks
And being washed out into the trough

Then in the early morning, I would awake to find myself alone
Travelling through the night on the number 15 bus

Your heart, scared, deformed

Your heart is scarred and deformed
Disfigured by the graffiti of life
Crushed like a potters clay
By crisis and disappointment.

Do you think you know
Where the heart is?
Do you think you know
Where the heart has gone?

It has gone, fallen
Through the collapsed floor of your being

Was it ever the muscular pumper of blood?
Or is it deeper and harder to define?

As for the lovers maxim “The heart beats faster”
– This is only the tip of the iceberg

Banner Street Gardens

Light seemed biodegradable, like the gardens that blossomed along the street
And at each front door darkness embraced me
And invited me into further its oblivion

The more the flowers blossomed in the row of gardens along the street
The worse my fear of surrounding eternity became
The worse I feared that existence was to be taken away

Not that I feared for myself but I feared for this row of gardens
These cultivated ornamental front gardens along this mortal street
This depression gave me insight; illness validated the vision

The thought of those innocent gardens being no more
That their deaths were written in time
That they were as mortal as the gardeners who planted them

The knowledge that the darkness that would overtake them
That a spade would come and ready the earth for death

Song: The First Teacher

She was the first teacher
to ever smell nice
She was the first teacher
to have a soft voice
She was the first teacher
whose interest was real
She was the first teacher
who taught me how to feel

Compared to Stephan
my drawing was crude
Compared to Stephan
my drawing was rude
My drawing was empty and devoid
My only belief was a lie

I had such a long way to go
and time was moving much to slow
I had such a long way to tread
on a journey through the darkness
and the pain in my head

She was the first teacher
to question who I was
She was the first teacher
to show me I was lost
Suddenly I saw through the lies
She unpicked the stitches from my eyes

first teacher




The rock of ancestors
A circle of stone souls
In conference
With men;
A circle of ancestors
Being called upon
Would speak.

The beginning
In the eye wind
Of religion.
The mediator
The shaman
The devil
Has been taken –
He talks to
The ghosts;
He is talking to
The spirits
In eternity;
He is the centre
The stars are its tent
The underworld
Is its voice.

The tribes of Britain
Are seated around
The house of the dead
At The centre of the earth
Waiting to know
Are they right?
Are they wrong?

They knew the old stories
Of the times before
The new circle;
They knew
The story
Of the journey
Of the ancestors
From far away
Who founded
The circle of holiness
In the new land.
They could speak to them
Through the shaman
Through the mediator
That danced in frenzy
Around the pinpoint centre
Of the worlds.

The stones began
to awaken
The drumbeat
The frenzied sound
Was in the stones
Was in the priest –
The oracle had come.

The fragments
Began to be revealed
Of the god
Who began all things
That now demanded
A sacrifice
Of thanks.

They were the men of old
Who had followed the setting sun
To the end of the earth;
They were from
The land of the gods
The gifts were collected
They returned to the feast
That the dead would rise.

The stones sleep,
The ancestors
Have no names,
The stars forget.

The earthquake fissure

The earthquake fissure
The melting crack of the earth
Of adolescence
Falling in and climbing out
As the earth moved
As the earth moved, parted
Hardened you
Hardening you
Taking your every thought and feeling
And baking it
Into a man
A blind stupid man
A meteorite
Made of base metal
And rock
And melting myth
And disillusion
But the answer
Is not with man
Who makes a theatre
Out of God
Or with nature
That man destroys
But with God
Who can destroy man