Childless in the Museum of Childhood

Childless in the museum of childhood. The museum attacks us like a sparrow hawk. So close to love – but the zebra gets up and walks down the street. The explanation for your choice was lost like a web in a burning barn. I came close to you but the hinges became like earthworms in tubas. Once again the wings of dragonflies fill my pockets, you hug your dolly to your bosom like a grenadier guard walking in space. My pretending friend of childhood is here, she is living in the doll’s house in the darkened corner. There are so many shadows living here in the Museum of Childhood, they cannot all belong to Peter Pan,

Childless in the museum of Childhood. Love do you go in without your pocket money? How do you feel not knowing how to place the blame? Do you feel warm wrapped up in the heat of your tireless anger? What do these childless eyes say to you? Are there pterodactyls in the skies of your dreams? My friendship is a ship of the line going into battle; my body is to be divided as the spoils of war. My face is the face of the moon over a blazing dolls house. My body has been given to the silversmith for a salver, you place your empty cups on one, and oh, you’ve placed your empty cups on me in the Museum of Childhood.

Take away my head-covering see how tall my antlers are. Why should you go childless in the Museum of Childhood? Why should you hunt me down with the weapon of your mouth? The summer has compressed us into the Museum of Childhood like two sardines between its heatwaves. My heart is darker than an African woodcarving, sweeter than a black morass of wild blackberries. Is your heart white like clouds of milk, are your arteries blue like oceans, is your soul divided amongst the exhibits, it is painted upon the faces of dolls and is written on the sides of the toy buses, it is printed like alphabets in bright colours. In a glass case within a glass case my flesh is scared by broken glass.

It is so calm in this great hall. Let us sit here like two best friends. Let us remember the games we played and find new ways to play them. Let us make a den for ourselves in the girders and stay there all night. Like two good children let us go there to do our homework. Let us fall out over the last cream cake, then kiss, and make up. I know I am old now but I know this one thing here in the Museum of Childhood, it is wrong to be so sad.

1999

Your Secret

Your secret lover, the one who drinks the moon, has stretched an acre of magnetic fields between us. Do you love your secret lover like a god and listen to his instruction? He has led you through blood and bruises and broken your heart in two. Yet still you call him god and believe he is true. And now he possesses you again and turns you against mortal love. What plans has he for you? What tortures will he impose upon you? How will his possession of you be expressed? And your beautiful hair, how can it ever be free? Yes, your beautiful hair, how will it ever be free?

Look at him – is your secret lover the masked figure of a Greek tragedy? Is he a devil wearing the facemask of a handsome god. Are you now like the maenad who danced in the woods? Will you be asked to tear wild animals to pieces? And would you kill the jealous human males who spy on your wild dances from the thickets?

But I heard your speech, I heard the speech of the strange spirit on your lips. I feel sharply his distrust for me. May the true God see his illegal activity and may he shudder.

Girl, carried on a gooses wings into the sun at last. Pour out your love upon my soul and let your beautiful hair be free to shine.

1999

Song: Patch me up or put me down

Patch me up or put me down
Girl, you have to choose
I can’t run another mile
Yes, I have a lot to lose

Patch me up or put me down
Oh, do what you must do
Now my life is in your hands
And now I belong to you

Patch me up or put me down
Take me to the vet down in town
I promise you I won’t make a sound
If you have to, have to put me down

Patch me up or put me down
It’s time, you must decide
Patch me up, I’ll be true to you
I will say always at your side

I will stay by your side

I was in your backyard
I was a common stray
But I fell in love with you
I hung around all day

You found me on a riny night
Howling at the moon
You took me in and fed me
And I fell in love with you

I’ve been down with some broken bones
But my broken heart won’t quit
If I get back to my feet
I’ll be your man
At your feet I’ll sit

Whatever you do
Will make me feel like crying
Whatever you do
will make me feel like crying

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In The Cinema of Empty Dreams

Sitting on slithering celluloid seaweed
Where blue sand drifted against the skeletons in the box office

A hungry woman had bitten into the mirrored wall behind the bar
I felt the strands of my inner parts tighten like the strings of a guitar being tuned
I watched you swimming in the seas of cinema history as its tides washed over you in silent rage.

The projectionists flesh dripped like ice cream out of her straight jacket
Like a stream of urine into the shadows that were licking lollipops in the orchestra pit

I felt I only knew what you were imagining if you sat all alone
It was like being in a dream full of punctuation marks that filled a church collection box
As cheap stardust sprinkled down from the sky mobbed by the population of Whitechapel who emerged like blue moths from the popcorn.

I tried to hear you laugh but only heard you think
Your thoughts like little blue gnomes flung their hats into the air as the film took off into secret flight
Then they sang the new tragic measure found in our sleep song symphony

How you loved to hear the rattle of my reptile teeth?
How you knew the cinema as a purple silk torture chamber?
Did I become that bluebird as the lights faded?

As your body folded out from cinema seat and produced a scream
I saw the whole film as the fabric of a feather light condom
And there in your ear an eye seemed to watch me

1999

The Free Warmth of Summer

Here am I / Her forgetfulness
Here am I / Her secrets
Here am I / Her memories
Here am I / Her significance

Here am I. Her fingers fade like slivers of ice in spring water.
Her eyes dissolve to leave deep-cobwebbed caves.
Her heartbeats are only heard by the moon these days.
Her dreams are a river divided by a sharp obtrusive rock.

That social touch goes through her like a stone through a waterfall.
Her voice sticks to my mind like a bird in a tarantula’s claw.
Her heart is the image of a burning, glowing love for a Catholic icon.
Her smile keeps returning to a shelf in a wardrobe used by orators.

How I long for you to love me like a woman from an Arthurian convent.
How I long to be the man I’ve never known.

Here am I. I rise into the sky like a flaming stake.
I melt like an icicle in her white-hot forge.
I become an invisible hair stuck to her twenty-story mirror.
I become a blade of grass uprooted by a hurricane of words.

I become like soft toy in the hardness of her anger.
I remain untouched in the absence of her selfness.
How I long to hear the words that glow on the end of her fingertips like angels.
How I long to lay my head on her lap and sleep.

Here am I. How frightened I am at not achieving the closeness I’ve fought so hard for.
How hard it is for her individualism to communicate, I can never break her self-image out from her hourglass.

Her naked feet, seen in the evening between the firing squad and the full moon that paces in and out of rooms.
She is talking to a small stick man who flies around her head.
What is love if love is not the love I thought it was?
Or is the love that I thought was love an instant thing between other people?

Here am I. There is the unattainable in her head like an evergreen forest.
There are her arms linked to her heart and her heart to no one at the moment.

Here am I. With an abandoned nest for a heart
Where the eggs of the depression bird become the liquid and chromosome of abortion.

In the music of life, sculptured in theory and long term plans and existing as shadows in the mind.
And with my face, puffed up by the endless pain of a slum vertebra and a coal-mined larynx.

1999

She’s Sounding Rather Strident

She’s sounding rather strident
She must be in a mood
She says it’s all my fault
And puts me off my food

At the heart of the matter
Looking from below and above
There’s a love within a heart
And a heart within a love

Getting things in the picture
Putting them in the frame
There’s a dream within a vision
There’s a name for every brain

Something’s are hidden under the skin
That cannot be explained
Like the wind inside the sky
Or the sun inside the rain

She’s sounding rather strident
She’s had quite a day
But moon and clouds will vanish
When she says what she must say

Soon the clouds will vanish
Soon the dawn will rise
The clouds in her pathway
The dawn in her eyes

Looking at the heart of the matter
Looking from below and above
There’s a heart within a heart
And a love within a love

Have no fear of the day
There are stormy clouds above
For there’s a heart within a heart
And a love within a love

She’s got a heart within a heart
She’s got a love within a love
So do not fear the bad days
They change like the clouds above

She’s got a love within a heart
And a heart within a love
So have no fear of mood swings
They change like the clouds above

She is my good, she is my bad weather
She is the snow, the rain, she is the sun
Have no fear of her mood swings
You take the sorrow with the fun

Song: Nuclear Meltdown Blues

She’s a nuclear reactor and she’s way out of control
She’s a nuclear reactor and she’s way out of control
She’s going into meltdown and her housing will explode

She needs my sprinkler system just to control her heat
She needs my sprinkler system just to control her heat
My pink button controls will cool her from her head to her feet

Oh no, she’s exploded, her blue cloud blows everywhere
Oh no, she’s exploded, her blue cloud blows everywhere
Parts of her reactor now have given me glowing hair

Oh I need your energy, strip me down and plug me in
Oh I need your energy, strip me down and plug me in
Let me have your nuclear power babe and make my nuclear atoms spin

Listen to the meltdown, that uranium core is hard
Listen to that meltdown, that uranium core is hard
My lead walls are shattered, her radio-activity’s dropped my guard

Now she needs a physics scientist to examine what I’ve done
Now she’ll need a physics scientist to examine what I’ve done
That uranium rod is everywhere it’s so dangerous, its no fun

Albatross

Like a ship attracted to burning ports
Where no authorities can ask you questions
You stared into my fires and felt safe

Maybe the fires were rosy and warm
Maybe the nights weren’t so lonely
Maybe the dreams became friendlier
Maybe you saw amongst the ruins a place to rest

You settled into port like a dove on the water
You built a relationship amongst the smoldering docks
But the country began to grow
And people began to question you

Then a little breeze blew and you were gone
Back to the ocean older and alone
Recoiling from the pinpricks on your skin
Back into the storms at sea like an albatross

Love and understanding

Love and understanding
It’s really hard to do
It’s complicated sometimes
For some when
You can understand someone
But you can’t put it into words
Or you can’t put your understanding to use
Because you love them or
Because they close part of themselves off
Of because of double defensive walls
Or because of feelings
Like refugees crossing over
A sea to another land in the night
Feelings that are lost in inner darkness
Or an argument where
Feelings are disguised in some way
So that the argument is relentless
Or because of
Feelings trapped in a syndrome
That keeps going round in a circle
That keeps exploring its own unhappiness
And cannot believe in a new beginning
And hangs on to what little love they got before
As if that is all they are ever going to get
Understanding you
If I say, I understand you – so what
I have to face the gale-force wind
I have to battle against the shadows that blow in my face
Blinding me, confusing me, making me despair but
If my understanding of you is correct in some way
Then I must endure
I must embrace the wind

I thought I caught her thoughts

I thought I caught her thoughts
Passing by the window
At first, I thought of birds
Of passing strangers
It’s normally nothing
Tricks of light and shadow
Optical illusions
Causing confusion
You see I need to know her thoughts
For time has rusted
I can see them on her face
Sometimes
Like clouds passing through her eyes
Into snow drifts
It’s no fault of mine
I feel I’ve tried
Maybe she is truthfully
Uninspired
But lives inside our lives
Only dancing