Alone, yet not alone
For feelings flood in
The body sizzles
The mind whistles on by
Alone, how good does it feel
The sizzling, the whistling
The whole of the ether
Turned out on its head
Friday 6 July 2018
Thursday 5 July 2018
Be I
I look into the old man's eyes
Will I become him
Will he become me
Will I reach the point of the point of wisdom
In the morning light
With the suns rays
Entering through the window
Will I one day be free to contemplate
Will I become him
Will he become me
Will I reach the point of the point of wisdom
In the morning light
With the suns rays
Entering through the window
Will I one day be free to contemplate
Wednesday 4 July 2018
Recovery Methodologies
In place of tears
Why not become the joker
In place of endless fears
Why not welcome in the passing clown
In place of freedom
Why not become the trapped
In place of lost kingdoms
Why not cast off the downbeat frown
In place of hope
Why not become with despair
In place of how to cope
Why not simply, surely, stand them down
In place of failure
Why not become belligerent
In place of derailed allure
Why not pose, as the talk of the town
Why not become the joker
In place of endless fears
Why not welcome in the passing clown
In place of freedom
Why not become the trapped
In place of lost kingdoms
Why not cast off the downbeat frown
In place of hope
Why not become with despair
In place of how to cope
Why not simply, surely, stand them down
In place of failure
Why not become belligerent
In place of derailed allure
Why not pose, as the talk of the town
Tuesday 3 July 2018
One Life; Of All Of Those You Stole
O Penistone, o Penistone
You crushed me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You broke me
And I never ever saw you coming
Your black and red striped tie
Your grey and black peaked cap
Your blazer and long grey trousers
Your uniform approach to individual life
No you did not seek out to encourage me
You didn’t even let me wear
My ice-blue jeans, and brothel creepers
O Penistone, o Penistone
You lost me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You taunted me
And I never ever found you
Your parquet floor French classroom
Your physics lab with Bunsen burner
Your geography lessons all about the Tundra
Your buildings served as licence to demolish
You never did curtail that deputy headmaster
The bully, the evil one, the wretched bastard
He caned me, he slippered me, he lost me
You crushed me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You broke me
And I never ever saw you coming
Your black and red striped tie
Your grey and black peaked cap
Your blazer and long grey trousers
Your uniform approach to individual life
No you did not seek out to encourage me
You didn’t even let me wear
My ice-blue jeans, and brothel creepers
O Penistone, o Penistone
You lost me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You taunted me
And I never ever found you
Your parquet floor French classroom
Your physics lab with Bunsen burner
Your geography lessons all about the Tundra
Your buildings served as licence to demolish
You never did curtail that deputy headmaster
The bully, the evil one, the wretched bastard
He caned me, he slippered me, he lost me
Monday 2 July 2018
I Lost The Way
All those times
I criticised the intellectuals
Yet continued to buy their books
And quoted from them incessantly
You see the real deal is
That I don’t cut it
As an intellectual
Nor as a renaissance man
And I could blame it all
On late childhood bedwetting
Or extended puberty
Or difficulty losing my virginity
But the truth of it is I know
That one year did it for me
Yes, that one year
And then one other
I criticised the intellectuals
Yet continued to buy their books
And quoted from them incessantly
You see the real deal is
That I don’t cut it
As an intellectual
Nor as a renaissance man
And I could blame it all
On late childhood bedwetting
Or extended puberty
Or difficulty losing my virginity
But the truth of it is I know
That one year did it for me
Yes, that one year
And then one other
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