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Tuesday, 28 March 2017

To Have The Other Laugh

Why would you
For any other than dry skin
For any other why would you
Than your skin, save your skin

For another tobacco or another
Ounce of justification why would you
Other than your own skin
Other than dry skin

Why feed on the need to feed on another
Indeed recede your past deception
The skin deep correction it's just infection
Without your hope it's no more than that

Easier though to have the other laugh
To break down the doors of some other gaff
And crash the draft
And cash the draft

For the uniform is too finely cut
Sliced into too straight a line, refined
With stiletto heels, and the feel for a Cuban cigar
Go to Hacienda, it's easier by far


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Monday, 27 March 2017

Lady My O My

My o my, the lady to identify
My lady My o my
To indemnify shall she sweetly sigh

My, to sigh, to cry
To identify and then indemnify
The lady my o my, she saunters, by on by

My, my o my, I hear
You sigh, you cry why, I identify
I, wish to indemnify

My lady you cry, your
Slight to mystify
Why, why shall she so sweetly die

By on by, she saunters, why
Lady my o my; o pray indemnify
To sigh, and to identify; to cry my

Sigh shall sweetly she
Indemnify, to my lady my o my
Identify to the lady my o my


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Sunday, 26 March 2017

If Miss Honeychurch

Hold on now
Hold tight somehow
We are so far together
We are so far
So far, so far
We are so far together

Hold on now
Hold tight somehow
We are so far together
So far, so far
We are so far forever

It was a Saturday
From far away
A far away Saturday
A Saturday
From far away
A latter day Saturday

The lady travelled
The motorways
The city streets
The April lights
The lady travelled
The motorways
The city streets
And soft midnights

The April lights
And soft midnights
The April lights
And soft midnights

The April lights
The April lights
And soft midnights

The letters and
The photographs
In between the lines

Soft pictures find
My sixpence
None the richer

The letters and
The autographs
In between the lines
Soft pictures find
My sixpence
So far richer

A glass of wine
A fine strung time
A slice of lime
A fine hung line

The whiteness of
The spotlight spire
Her eyes on fire
Her eyes on fire
The whiteness of
The spotlight spire
Her eyes desire
Her eyes desire

They shared their mp3's
With songs of buzzing bees
Way down summerleaze
They softly breezed

They wear their mp3's
In bright yellow sleeves
Off to summer seize
With care of thought to tease

Into the night
Into the night
On into the night
On into the night, and
On into the morning

They talked of all
They talked so small
In for all and in for
Fine fair weather

On the bed
Her soft laid head
With fingers spread
So tender led
Their hair instead
Combed in bed together

And holding close
This time she chose
To tread with faith unfettered

And holding close
This time he chose
To wait for days red lettered

And holding close
This time they chose
To wait for days not bettered

And holding close
This time they chose
They wait their days unfettered

And holding close
This time they chose
They wait their days red lettered

And holding close
This time they chose
They wait for days fine fair weathered

And holding close
And holding close
This time they chose
This time they chose
To tread with faith unfettered

And holding close
And holding close
This time they chose
To tread with faith unfettered


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Saturday, 25 March 2017

Witnessed Conversation

Painted toe nails; purples, or crimsons, or red
Ankles; with bangles, or bracelets, laid on the bed
Flecked hair; streaks of purple, and gold, and rust
Bodies and breathing, floating into the life of trust

An evocation
Explanative with witness
Conversation
Witnessed conversation

Of our youth
Of our thoughts of death
And life
And the many ways to live it

Of music
Of theatre
Of families
And cats and dogs

Of a first hello
Wandered into
Without of
Unease

As a breeze
Though not yet of summer
Paints; colour
Richer ever than nature

Bone structure
Amplified by objects of inanimate art
Hair, a cover for all our body
Even where, we care to share the wax



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Friday, 24 March 2017

A Calm Of Love, A Calm Of Purpose

It all became so clear
Although I've watched you
For a long while
Watched you year on year

Taken pleasure in your reflection
A perception to be entirely insincere
A construction, a camouflage
Surpassing disastrous perception

Your wrinkled skin, your golden hair
Finding light wherever the music falls
Can you hear the music
More so can you hear the true affair

It all became without need to instruct
Somehow just to stand in the sunshine
By the railway line
By the overgrown viaduct

By the canal sides of decay and restoration
As old thoughts pass by
As old hopes pass by

Today there is no intoxication or reformation

Other than a calm aloof
Perhaps a calm of love
Perhaps a calm of purpose
Indifference, to the cat on the hot tin roof

On any other day no need for further  preparation
Far enough of a gaze at my own navel
Today though the clarity
Is a turning away from fear, or desperation

In place a settlement, a circle of stones
A plain of reddest sand
Perhaps there too a cactus
An oasis, with a wishing well, and gnomes

A curtain raised, under a singular light
A child with his mother; a brother with his sisters
A writer with his words
And someone, for whom he wishes to write


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