There was a robbery when I was young

There was a robbery when I was young
That I only just understand,

I was taken off the grid
Dreams came up blank saying “Unable to find server”

It’s such a privilege to live in the West
Without whose support I would be dust now

Skeletons were caught on video
Running from the broken shop

Once I had insurance
But the end of the world was not covered

The TV has filled up with sand
At 11.55 the clock began doing push ups

Living – sucking

living – sucking
sucking is all we do
we replace the natural
with the artificial
and we suck
until the sky turns blue
we suck
the skies turn blue
and again
we suck until the skies turn blue
and we lick the light from the moon
we suck the stars from the sky
we turn them into mud
and when they’re gone
we die

The tired pool of light said enter

The tired pool of light said enter
and the spirit turned into a fish
the deep dark abyss grew into a dragon
but it climbed out onto land as a male child
naked, innocent, in awe of the beautiful earth

The living black seaweed made for itself
a flying saucer and flew it to Los Angeles
the population saw it as a celluloid dream in a drive-in movie
that rank of stagnant water filled with larvae

The dragons name was “terrible” and “fearful”
it roared like a lion made insane by a life of incarceration
its gold head was covered in black mould and limpets
for miles around the deep was silent and empty

Great crowds of early women folk swarmed around the male child
they taught him magic spells and how to kill
soon he became a great king in a dark valley
he grew snakes like tentacles out of his teeth

The earth became as dark as Jupiter
a red glowing mist enveloped its pitch black surface
as arrows of golden light shot from the sun
to piece and kill the male child

Walking up Hatton Garden

The wet streets of the night walking up Hatton Garden
The eyes in the darkness spin like wheels.
The cold squid sun running up Eyre Street Hill
The bright blot of the moon seeping, bleeding over Farringdon Bridge
The grey wet single broken line of the street.
Prince Albert doffs his cap to the sunrise
The Victorians are coming on the clouds.
The Princes stony, hunched back facing the east is full of gratitude.
Rain fills the early morning, and each drop is a Bethlehem melody.
The bare necks of the dummies in the jewellery shops,
The headless white dummies bereft of pearls
Like blanched shell-less snails in the window, alert for predators.
The fox thinking like a tin drum,
Scarpering, stopping, watching, and vanishing


The design in nature

The design in nature
Don’t let its independence fool you
Without love, it couldn’t exist

The timeless design in nature

The blackbird sings
Others want to show what they can do
Everything is amazed by this
Without love, it couldn’t exist

I seek to be alone

I seek to be alone
and there I was tried and tested
in the mirror hidden
behind the door of what is seen

I seek to be alone
But my loss of identity does not allow me this lonliness

I’m always searching my heart for who I am
And do not know peace
For now this war in me – turns my friendship
Into an old blind cat

A sun shines beneath the lid of a drain
A star twinkles in a closed safe
It stays that way for decades
To heal the broken heart, the spirit crushed will take centuries

A day alone

A day alone
Is a gift I cannot enjoy
Tomorrow backs onto it
Like an enemy troop carrier

If, amongst friends, I should go
I act like a deep silken sunset
Falling over them
Heavy as a cannonball
Bathing them in deep red light
Until the final blanket of my soul
Darkens all inside me

A day alone
Free of the shadows buffeting scream
That is as sharp as thorns
I wait yearning for discovery
My cup – empty
My love – cup less

I seek not and I am left alone

I seek not, and then, I am left alone
I let go because I am sad
The soul is in the blood, it is made of self
Without a mother, the baby dies

Learning about what nature says to God through nature
The design of nature is the foundation of mankind
In the void, I hang like an autumn leaf
On this branch of Gods memory

If the best that everyone has to offer was allowed
Goodness like a blanket of snow would cover the earth

You’ll be with the wind

I’ll take you to Marlow, to Bluebell wood,
but you won’t know of it until you wake up.

How does that sound my friend, to Bluebell Wood?
think of it now, does it chill your blood?

You’re going to Marlow, to Bluebell Wood,
that’s all I can do now, until you wake up.

You’ll love it in Marlow, where you first fell in love,
surely this pleases you, as no other thought could?

To be with the wind there and the memory should
last through the years in Bluebell Wood

I know you’ll be gone soon, for all the good
you’ll be with the wind there in Bluebell Wood.

I’m a fingerprint in the dust

I’m a fingerprint in the dust
A skin on the featureless heart
This time the turmoil of the heart
Engulfs me and blasts the dust away.

Me – very few have seen me!
My identity hasn’t conquered anybody.

The turmoil of my featureless heart
Erases all personality with its quaking
Binds and shackles me to its babyish agonies;
And dissolves my face in its fire.