WINTER WISHES


Autumnal colours frame your face,
your eyes like burning embers.
for many years I've loved you now,
how many more septembers.

Glistening dew drops turn to ice,
as winter comes along.
you really are my only vice
how can it be that wrong.

Yet soon returns that early dawn,
but still,you wear no ring.
awoke from slumber with cheery yawn,
thrushes once more sing

Can one long hot summer of romance,
be squashed so easily.
or shall we take this given chance,
be together endlessly.

The seasons of our life together,
fly like doves come home to roost.
if you would say your mine forever,
my heart would have a boost.

Think long and hard for what you wish,
for whishes can come true
I prayed one day to fill my dish,
I was rewarded when I found you.


SEASONS

A single strand of silver moonlight,
between the clouds does break,
Gazing down I hear you sigh,
slowly you awake,
Your hair, autumnal, falling,
on the pillow where you sleep,
The chill now coming over,
summers gone i want to weep.

leaves, like love, are fading,
in the distance wolfs do howl,
you're love for now is darkening,
o'er my eyes, shed like a cowl,
The flush of youth in spring time,
faded in the fall,
looking back on times together,
fondly I recall.

Forward now to winter,
the cold of you're embrace,
I wonder, did we ever,
have a chance in this old place,
Though we've lived our lives together!
nothing left to get us through,
As the autumn sunlights fading,
so my thoughts, also of you.


AUTUMNAL AWAKENING.

Among the image the minaret
set to fall but not just yet
tainted, tarnished, ruined by few
whose sole desire to exploit you.

Bigot extremists one and all
destroy young minds, make them fall
a martyrs death and virgins promise
A mothers comfort? naught but solace.

Come spring once more re-new re-start
once more to claim the purest heart
A growing passion once again
for love of Allah not for fame.

Within us all a budding wish
to serve the lord a pleasant dish
each to love as we would please
not bringing others to their knees

Come all you elders heed thy mother
Grasp all who walk and call them brother
joy and love alone to send
lest of this world we see the end.


I AM

The one who gave you comfort when you thought all hope was dead
ironed out the twisting road to make it straight ahead
who helped you sing a happy tune when all around was bleak
a guide to all the answers of the questions that you seek.

A warmth in depth of winter cooling breeze in summers heat
a reason to stop moping, get you back upon your feet
a myriad of crystal rainbows dancing in the sky
an answer to life's long lost reason, a description of the why.

The touch of healing waters in the deepest of compassion
a dose of goodness calling when you run out of your ration
a reminder of the future and the life as things could be
expressions of your failures past, resigned to make up me.


Forget me not in sorrow remember me in joy
whether be you woman man or girl or long lost infant boy
Just know that when you find me; again your life is whole
I am awakenings of desire my friend:.. I am your very
soul.


THE END


Childhood long gone stolen,taken
A mothers care
None ! Forsaken
LOATHING;


Unexpected brush of air
Check locked doors
still; beware.
FEAR;


Swirling thoughts extorted protraction's
Freedom's calling
wasted reaction?
MALICE;


None to hear the plaintive cry
none to look up to
wondering why
HATRED;


Crimson remnants of past decisions
Mind melt muddle
Make revisions
GUILT;


Physical restraints lie unbound
What's in the air?
strangest sound


SILENCE:


A MOTHERS CALL


The crimson tint of sunlight Quivers upon the golden corn
As barn owl flows the air now cold leads silently to dawn
Breaking shards of sunlight glitter soft on dewy grass
fawns soft feeling comfort gambolling in the pass.

Nature has a way to share her beauty through the day
Is often that I find myself in dreams so far away
The lilt of birdsong softly chimes the coming of the dawn
whilst bitter shrills of the badger give warning to the fawn.

Hues of green vast fading in the memory as the past
Shall always be remembered treat each joy as if the last
Hallowed walls of fir trees glide as one confining gate
leading to temptation whilst the guardians sit and wait.

Evening song or morning call shall each their own empower
Tis only just deserts of men lead to the final hour
Nature seen by many as a blessing not a curse
While none believing cynics, say let us do our worst.

We all should treat the planet as we would our very own kin
After all in all this nature there is a mother within...


THOUGHTS OF THE DAY


Standing by the factory gate
hardened men do sit and wait,
Meanwhile in the halls of power
Democracy! Dimming by the hour.

We only want what is our due
no more nor less than the chosen few.
Agonised choices soon be made
best to see we all get paid.

Friends and comrades by our side
All for one to stem the tide
More for us to gather in
if we let the weakest win.

Regaled and spurned for standing fast
Not for first time and never last
Democracy the cry from high
in other places slipping by

Socialist sycophants scowl displeasure
What right have we to ask their measure?
Shore up the drawbridge reel in the truth
scourge the revolution of its youth.

Won not yet the justest cause
hidden deals behind closed doors
death a worry for woman and man
revolution needed in iran.

Shouting nightly from rooftops tall
hoping praying soon will fall
freedom for the right to choose
A battle they must never lose.


16K...


Only 16K to fight and die
100K more to sit and lie
Will we ever say enough is enough
Whilst Orwellian dictates rebuild the trough.

Give more to the rich who started the mess
Who cares for the little man give it a rest
Couldn't find a new Rembrandt for love or money
Had to do with Picasso now the telegrams not funny

How dare they suspect us of unlawful doing
While those on benefits the taxpayers screwing
Small prices to pay a child's life I'm sure
If only appeared on front page once more.


MORNING DUE


Above the bluebells faeries fly
whilst down below the pixies cry
in joy of all the things they weave
with faery dust which abound to leave

In tree the twit-twoo of owl's
keeping elves a hidden fast by cowels
will not detract from faeries flight
until once more comes the morning light

Such time is short cannot deny
the time that faeries have to fly
many claim to see, but very few
have watched them lay the morning dew.


GOVERNING BODY


Feelings,
Emptied like bowels on a morning
Unhinged within a battered brain.
Devoid of contact with others,
lest the panic start again.

Memories,
so long time past caring
Extracted for keepsake by rote
Devilled eggs left to rot upon concrete
White flesh moulds quiet in moat.

Knowledge,
Tainted with extract of liar's breath
Used sparingly for fear of notice
kept deep within soul, searching,
Hoping for benevolent poultice.

Structure,
Torn by those with ultimate control
Replaced with chaotic transformation,
The young left to fester in silent abyss
If given chance! would ruin our nation.

Immortal souls,
Passed down through generations
Greed and apathy, intertwined permission
what more evil on gods own earth?
except for politician...................


THE ANSWER


Even if we did?

I would probably not remember so therefore the promise of pleasure is an inadequate excuse to do it!
Your imagination though is heartwarming compared to those I have known before, the introduction of the dolphin was aptly inspired...

Yes It is true that Dante's inferno would keep us warm but I really do like the feel of satin upon my skin:
Why must all good things be deemed impassable by those who can not drive?

As the moonlight faded to give way to the dawns rapturous chorus of light filling with the cacophony of tearful piteous migrant souls unhinged by the reflective rage of a nation;
I was tempted:
BUT,
despite what they say I did not succumb.

Does that make me better than him?
or his equal at least?
It matters not now as the moment is long past.

I will,
when I have the time;
think of you.
Perhaps you too will reflect upon this moment and garner some peace from it,
or not!


THE EYE OF GOD

Feelings exposed as an open cast mine erupts within the once verdent valley of my soul,
torn asunder by the cancerous claws of a liar.
Black thoughts emenating from a once tranquil mindset,
now content to live out the days in search of the opulent exquisite feeling of revenge.

How soon the change from saint to sinner when one is cast against the other,
could this be the reason for mans demise?

Or is there indeed,
a benevolent,
all seeing,
all encompassing,
pasionate yet shameless God; residing deep within us all,
feeding off the rawest of emotions as a carrion crow on the roadkill entwined.

How odd that the evil within is released with such fervour at the mearest hint of deciet and yet love is oft disastrously slow in forthcoming to strangers we meet.

Perhaps the wrath of God lies closer to the surface than we may wish to accept, not until we change and accept our own belief can we change the hearts of others!


THE EPIC TALE OF EMILLION THE GOAT.

The sweet swirling sounds of the Saracen cascading among the empty grasslands soothed the way for the winged warrior.
Many hundreds of years of suffering past had led to this day of reckoning.
Jenkle berries glistening with dew in the morning sun; hues of amber and purple mingled through the dank green undergrowth of vine weebles.
Martinique figures adorning the lamp standards of every day folk in the future would tell of this epic battle.

Many eons before the dawn of time
The Saracens watched and waited in lime,
Whilst all around green indolent toad
Attacked with glee, faces covered in woad

Amphibian scum floating idle all day
Would look upon Saracen as naught but prey
Despised and loathed with venomous passion
Yet equally sparse in their unique fashion.

They stooped to conquer one and all
Had no recollection of ever the fall
None had ever been up to the mark
But stirred now to action the Saracen spark.

Emillions! created for those who had money
Specifically to gather gregorian honey
With ears full of velvet as was their mantra
Bred to be immune from the deadliest chanter.

The song that was sung by gregorian folk
Wreaked havok on saracens, certainly no joke
Passed on by the ancients yet never bye rote
Each generation different; Then so to the goat.

Magnificent creature defender of the poor
Knew only of sorrow; caged when on tour
Round the country he'd travel earn pay for his master
Greedy for more they would work him still faster.

Was a fortunate summer saw honey decline
When the poor discovered a bottomless mine
Full of ambrosia the stores of old gods
Long now departed it evened the odds.

Until the great rising of watery road
Which let in the likes of weasel and toad
Weasel defeated without much of a clatter
As for toad? a different matter.

Forged in the centuries of torture forbidden
long time devourers of things from the midden
sublime in the art of constructural goad
not many could answer the wrath of the toad.

Sarcastic laughter a beauty to behold
except by those recieving the ultimate load
Many a mere mortal their own hearts would rip
As to stand and be counted lest they hear the next quip.

Many years downtrodden disaster in the making
Older generations sat full with hearts breaking
What pains for the children what horror in store
Shall we live in submission for ever and more?

A resolute farmer the first to revolt
By taking to arms an Emillion goat
With its bear like proportions and Elephant hide
Swiftly despatching of toad to the side.

Grasping uncertainty heard loud and clear
A rallying cry for others draw near
Soon many were marching a vast humane throng
As they did march, all singing same song…

“Toad, Toad, it’s the end of the road we have seen through your anger and relish your woad”
“Toad, Toad, to lighten our load we will meet you at daybreak and clear our road”

Toads only response as had been in the past
Was to dismiss the affair as it would not last
They did not yet know of the Emillion goat
And how very soon they would swim their own moat.

One morning at daybreak caught unaware
Only thing able to do was to stare
As the goat with its passion for hatred drew near
And a pathway to happiness was drawn loud and clear.

Toads tossed and mangled left many for dead
Limbs rent asunder some left with no head
No quarter given no ifs and no buts
Only remembrance a moat full of guts.

Emillion goat placed on pedestal high,
Fell off the next morning was destined to die
For mixture of species was long past forbidden
Except in the cases where very well hidden.

Goat by his deed had signed his death warrant
For angels hath no mercy for something abhorrent
Yet still we will remember as walk down the road
As free men of England unsullied by toad.


STRUGGLE

I see you and it hurts;

Struggling is a way of life without remorse.

Pain,
The barrier long crossed consuming and vile yet ignored in day to day terms.

My wish to help negated by your desire to remain independent,

Your strength belies the fact that you are in constant agony,

Stubborn,

Detached,

Relentless in the pursuit of hope.

My one abiding comfort the knowledge that soon the pain will be gone for good ;

Tempered by the fact that then is the time I fear the most,

Alone and unguided!

My fear that I will have no purpose.


NOT A LOT TO DO?


Butterflies,
Moulded without form of texture,
Acquiescent to the fact that life is short.

Disciples of the grail wait with uncommon urgency the return of the saffron moon.

In hallowed halls of learning professors debate the possibility of life in a far off galaxy.
Little do they know they are being watched by the very life force they surmise about?

Off in the distance of immortality the raisin filled arias of a multitude of meandering mermaids cast spells of haven upon all who will take of their soul.

Life is as it should be upon this world of tranquillity except for the beating of the heart of a single drone, carried aloft upon the savannas summer sirocco.

Were it not for the poor there would be no rich
Were it not for the air there would be no breath
Were it not for the sun there would be no light
Were it not for the clouds there would be no rain
All of these things and more important within their own way and yet were it not for the constant gentile humming reminder of the bee there would be no life on earth.

While Rome burned Nero played!
What will you be doing as our world is rent apart


Looking at pretty pictures?..


MADNESS

Icicles, Made of blood, meshed together as a barrier, holding back the love eternal,

Dreams, Lying broken, empty of meaning, littering perception distorting reality,

Love, Accumulated, grown nurtured, thrown out like garbage enclothed in black plastic,

Friends,Turned half circle,disbelieving unhelpful, stabbing with daggers given by others,

Isolated, Alone, despised for feeling kindred spirit with those who did not deserve it,

Choices, Wrongly taken, the path ever eternal towards the light, split by our own demons,

Failings, Abundantly clear to those who do not have to live with them,

Who is to say there is no heaven when all the while some live a life of hell?

No respite,

No after-care,

No succor for the mentally infirm,

Leave them rot a while in slumber with their chemical imbalance driven wild with interfering drugs whilst WE,"NORMAL" people gather our lives together and pity them.

Does it really make a difference?

To think that all the while we are helping,
those inside can only suffer in silence?

lest not forget madness can invade us all.


IF ONLY

My dreams, filled with the perfume of your splendour
Hazily departing as a waft of smoke from a wood burning stove
Slowly coming too with the realisation of my life’s work having not been all in vain.

You may ask what it is that keeps me here on this isolated plain
That you would?
It could only mean that I have not conveyed enough my true feelings towards you.

Lightness of the morning sun set against the beauty of your face would pale into naught but a shadow.

Lambs, gambolling in the meadow are as bulls in a china shop compared to your natural grace.

Angels cry when the light fades for they can no longer gaze upon your perfection.

The sweetest sounding lark rising high in the sky to protect their budding brood can only hope to be as melodic as your voice.

Your alabaster skin, aglow with an almost translucent aura is more attractive to me than a flame is to a moth.

Yet none of this can you see because of your unswerving desire to see that others are fine before the needs of your own.

A simple word of recognition and I would bow down before your elegant frame,
If it would please you I would cut off my arms if they offended you in any way
If you would only allow it I would love you forever.


LOVE LEFT

As we wander into the dark,dark night
Unsure of the coming again of light
Take with us a picture of the best thing in sight;

The love of those left behind.

It is not always the way that we dont come back
For many are tested upon the rack
But hope in abundance is not something to lack;

With the love of those left behind.

Yearning for sustenance have nothing to fear
All that do know you will be fast praying here
Deep down in their hearts you will always be near

Within the love of those left behind.

On return to the family still brazen and bold
In a week or a month as long as foretold
remember that you are well blessed with the gold

Of the love of those left behind.


FIRST LOVE

Drifting!
Unified as one with all that exists

Free flowing thoughts of ebony coloured hues departing from within what once was confused.

Soft fragrant muse dance daintily down the drift toward our embrace whilst overhead the warmth of the sun intensifies with your presence!

All of this happens when your purity connects.

To think,
it was within these walls of silken twine that first I saw your face;
one second is all it took for me to fall in love with you.


WORDS OF LOVE#2


The pages of my diary filled,
Like my senses,
With the perfume of your aroma;
Soft heavenly wafts of delicate fragrance herald your closeness in the morning,
The dew fall, reflected in the azure blue of your eyes is dimmed in comparison by the brilliance of your smile.

Angels mourn the passing of daylight lest it deprives them of your presence, for which they are eternally grateful:

As for myself?

My thoughts stray to the incredible;

Surely; there must be some mistake!
For someone as special as yourself to want to spend time in my humble presence;

I am constantly overwhelmed by the amount of love you exude from such a small and tender frame;
The exquisite feelings of rapture I may only capture briefly when in your company I shall savour for eternity if I am aloud to dream that long.

If this is in fact a dream then I do not want it to end,
If it is in fact reality then praise be that I have been chosen for such a worthy honour as your love,
And if it is indeed a fantasy then let me remain within my own madness that I may yet believe that one so divine may still exist.

I guess through all of this what I am trying to say is…

I love you.


NEW RELATIONS

I did not know you for a while.
The sunlight,
Reflecting off your golden halo,
Blinding me to your compassion.

First impressions of maudlin dictate rolling round my head like candy floss on a stick.
Another day to recover then stitch him up, let him leave!

Those words rumbled for an eon past dawn, as I realised it was I you talked about,
Yet still not heard.
The reason for forgetfulness sheathed in a cover of adolescent tincture,
Unable to break free from the constraints of youth.

Must I forever be as one with this feeling?
Or will one day my heart be opened to those who love me.

Time and the deepening of my own soul may provide the answer,
In the meanwhile I will content myself with a paddle at the waters edge!


EARTH WALTZ

The moon,
Weaving its weary way upwards,
Through the remnants of empty storm clouds;
Greying now with age as their journey is at an end.

On the opposite side,
To the North West the last struggle of sunlight,
Its shafts of silver sparkle through singlets of mist atop the hillside.
Moths, their desires stretched and divided!
Waltz in a wafting breeze,
tempting fate;
As the hum of the hunger of a myriad of pipistrelle bats nears the dance floor,
How delicate the interplay, between them,
It is perfection to be seen each and every day.

What right has humanity to stifle such beauty?

Longer lived than man shall ever be!
She will have her world returned slowly;
Precisely;
Yet unquiet, her resources gathering pace;
Typhoon here,
Hurricane there, minor tremors,
Erupting volcanic residue slipping ever upwards,
Toward final destination.

Fate comes to all who wait patiently,
Mother Nature is imbued with ample patience to see off mortal man.
A pity she can't save all who will perish before her might;
But; rest assured;
Something more worthwhile shall take of humanities place.
Perhaps?
Another species of moth
To entertain in their twilight romance,
As they face the moon and dance.


GRACEFULLY AMAZING

As the skylark laid down the dawn chorus
My heart was opened to the world
Finding solace in the arms of family again
Realising the amount of love they offered

Re-ingratiated into the family home
Heartbeat drumming at thoughts of disaster
Finding new hopes in resurrection
Looking closely at my own reflection
Once more able to stand inspection

Fighting over rival thoughts
Many sinless now dismissed
You saw us flounder and held us steady
Returning to those we missed.

The promised land now lies ahead
Following dreams once more ignited
Allowed to stumble but never fall
Till death itself divide us

It’ll be a long journey
But still we fumble in the dark
How much longer do we have
How much time have we wasted?

As the skylark laid down the dawn chorus
My heart was opened to the world
Finding solace in the arms of family again
Realising the amount of love they offered


JUST DO IT (for Bukowski)

Don't do it if it hurts your eyes
Don't do it if it’s not a surprise
Don’t do it if the wind is blowing
Don't do it if it looks like snowing

Do it only in best of light
Do it only if Armageddon in sight
Do it to prove you can delight
Do it and be damned, you know its right

Do it in the morning, in the evening too,
Do it front or back of house,(Hell do it in the loo,)
Do it till your fingers bleed, till your heart can pump no more
Do it till all that’s left of you is drained and on the floor

Don't let them think they can stop you
Don't let them think they've won
As you waken every morning think only new day begun
Express Exasperation convey contemporise verbs
Induce incandescent outrage
Use explicit and demographic words

But whatever you do in your writing
As long as it takes you to think
Get it down quick on the paper
Lest it festers and lets off a stink.


SOLSTICE MEMORIES


Nearly midnight and the sun is still awake
Dreamily disappearing past the treetops oe'r the lake
An owl cries in the distance as the pipistrelle flashes by
Lost in our misty memories we ask each other why.

Because I always thought you were the best,
The others couldn’t compete,
And anyways when I walked you home
It was just in the very next street.

I knew your mom and dad were fine and so to was your brother
But after that first kiss under the moon I could never want another,
My heart was pounding ten times fast my skin was blotched and red,
It took me nearly three whole hours before I was calm enough for bed.

The excitement of your perfume combined with salty skin
Was enough to drive me to distraction I had a warmness from within,
The giggle you made when I touched your nose the laughter all night through
All of these little things and more made me fall in love with you.


The moon appearing on the horizon, enhancing stars twigh-light
Alone we'll sit and reminisce see if we get things right,
The first meeting we had the first kiss we both meant
The first time that you blushed the first night we both spent.
The first kick of our first born the first kick of our last
The first realisation of time moving too fast
The first time you said sorry the first time that I lied
When I said I’d be strong for you the moment you died
Realising through all of this I still hadn't cried.

Another year gone another solstice watch and up upon the door stoop I put another notch,
Hopefully not many more though it's always been a pleasure,
I am getting way to lonely now I want to be with you my treasure.

They found the broken body at the bottom of the hill
The only chance of witness was the flapping pipistrelle
A lonely hurried creature swiftly gathering for his strife
Had to be home before morning, had to be there for his wife.


DARKNESS IS MY LIGHT

Haunting, as moonlight clouded,
shrouded, by a million bats in migration
my love for you also is hidden.

Daunting, the prospect of decision
to be made as the sun arrives once more,
to warm the ground in its path.

Mourning, the last chance of salvation
removed from the contest as
warming thoughts return at the first kiss.

Fawning, as a lovelorn swain
over the loss of a malformed sheep,
amidst a field of thousands.

Dawning, the realisation that not all are as bad as the other
when it comes to love,
only your own heart can know.


SUNRISE

Hold still neath black curtain of foreboding doom,
cast swiftly away by presence of gloom
Room to manoeuvre,
cast doubt to the eyes
Colours,
slowly awaken,
in light from sunrise.

Twirling, hurling, masses,
relieved of uncertainty,
roll quickly away from the harsh bright light,
Discourse abounds,
the increasing of sounds spells death to the unknown,
Now come plainly in sight!

Relief to the young,
as once more reflections are seen,
strength to the elders,
as true to their word life has been.

More feelings desired,
more questions,
another day has begun
more reason rejoice again,
the inevitable return of the sun.


REUNITED

On passionate purple pond,
lived Primrose Petula Park,
Renowned for her pronunciation,
as well as her love of the dark.

One evening erring errands,
eradicating pain,
Ermintrude Edmilson,
came into her life again.

Had been many years since Primrose,
had thoughts about her friend,
truth was,
that day they parted!
both thought it was the end.

A fire,
kindled briefly,
when both their teenage years,
Quenched quietly each evening,
would lead to naught but tears.

Caught holding of each other
by the mistress of the day,
both scolded,
scarred and beaten,
with Ermintrude sent away.

Rejoicing,
reunited,
resurgent feelings re ignite,
Primrose Petula Park,
now a friend again of light.


CLOUDY SKIES

Water vapours, slowly rising,
spring time cuckoos call;
first a dove, perhaps a wolf, a rocket ship to mars,
for little boys their precious toys,
dinosaurs, dragons, cars.

How quick they change,
both floaty yet frightening,
howling thunder followed by lightening,
still in the distance! A sliver of silver,
the winds now slow the howl a quiver

shapes and dreams of angels schemes,
guide us one and all.


BITS AND PIECES

Your eyes look quiet now,
almost serene,
Unlike I have seen them before,

perhaps it was the madness !
(yours or mine Who cares)
that stopped me from appreciating just how soulful they were.

At least they stayed where they belong,
inside your head,
Unlike your brain which is lying here in front of me.
Try as I might I can still not see where you hide your logic?.

To say that you would rather die than go out with someone like me!
well at least I have helped you achieve your ambition,
which must,
I think,
be in with your logic.

Perhaps I missed it when I disembowelled you!

Don't go anywhere,

I will go and check..........................


HORNSWAG LAND

Beware all little greebles,
as darkness draws nigh
For the hornswags are watching,
way up in the sky,
when you fall asleep,
you're dreams they will find
and come of the morning,
they'll take of your mind.

Oft in the past,
when the moonlight was pale
hornswags would taunt us,
fear would prevail,
now take of you're medicine,
like good greebles do,
for nesstleberry juice,
is what makes you get through.

One day in the future,
perhaps maybe soon
a saviour will find us,
and maybe for one dubloon,
he'll take of the hornswags,
and merry we'll be
and sleep once more safely,
without nesstle berry.


Somewhere over the rainbow,
as the mist of dawn subside,
The Greebles meet for breakfast,
neath the oak where they abide,
some they talk in whispers,
hoping this day will be their best,
that at last they'll beat the Hornswag,
and put their town to rest.

For in the place that they call home,
they are never free to roam,
while the Hornswag in the night preys on the young,
as the elders struggle to keep,
their young ones as they sleep,
with nestleberries wrapped around their tongue.

Its the only way to calm them,
as they know that it wont harm them,
like a sleeping draught,
it blankets out their dreams,
For the Hornswag while he's flying,
never ceases trying,
to hone in on all ideas and schemes.

Twenty years now and still countin,
since they dislodged him off the mountain,
While mining froobie gems,
to sell at crickle mart,
Like a winged avenger beating,
searching children memories for the eating,
Tis a good job the Greebles are all heart.

Now the waiting it is over,
for they found a friend in rover,
he comes this day to set the world to right,
ever fearless never tiring,
he will stop the beast from flying,
it was to be an all out awesome fight.

First one,
and then the other,
had control,
or was in bother,
rolling,
biting,
scratching,
kicking in the hay,
Then a Greeble with shot clear,
unleashed the silver spear,
the Hornswag would not see another day.

Somewhere over the rainbow,
as the moon was slowly rising,
The Greebles met for supper,
promising kids they'd have a lie-in,
They shout with joy and laughter,
frighten rooks from out the rafter,
With the Hornswag now defeated,
they could live here everafter.


PRETTY PICTURES


Rainbow painted warrior,
adrift on a sea of toxic waste,
shall one ever know what lies beneath the surface.


Could it be the sins of the fathers,
come back to haunt us all,
or perhaps the realisation that all is not well within the natural world in which we live.


Overhead clouds of acid stripping the very lifeblood of the planet pause for a moment to examine the damage they cause whilst secretly admiring the efforts of the warrior.

Still they pour out their bile towards the ground.

Perhaps the answer lies yet deeper than the feat of a mere mortal,
only given at the end of our time,
a time which draws ever nearer with each belch of power driven exhaustion.

Yet think yea not of these things,
whilst all the while we have pretty pictures to amuse.


DARKNESS
Darkness, cold and lonely reverberates in your head,

Just one more pill you're, thinking then, no more, just dead.

No more waking dreams of purgatory, no more screaming through the night.

Just that final walk through darkness go toward the shining light.

An answer, yes, so simple, take away the awful pain.

There is nothing left inside of me, nothing left to build again.

A few months from now they will start to forget.

They will whisper in the street.

Then a year will pass like a moment, just dust beneath their feet.

But who will look after the young ones?

Who can explain what it is you have done?

Then at last you remember the reason,

the darkness gives way to the sun!

For all things to happen a season

For all questions an answer to find.

First question you should answer

can I trust in my own mind?


NIPPLEODEON

Hastily gathered,
at no mean cost,
the tribes of eunuch,
(Those who have lost).
Carefully cast from an "a" to a "c"
They bring music from nipples,
Beautifully.


A tweak of the left,
a pull on the right,
one with a third,
that is hairy,(what a sight)
with each pinch and pummel,
a new chord is struck,
One can even imitate a Norwegian duck.


One time in manhattan,
(we get around you know),
A guy had an orgasm,
He was in the tenth row,
so beware the excitement,
of raspberry ripple,
As we lead you all now in our chorus,
CRY NIPPLE


So, that's it over !
the end, the finish,
all that's gone before will now diminish.

Things we said to one another,
as boyfriend, girlfriend, sister, brother.

The mystical experience,
the all night sessions,
the rants the ravings the joint possessions

Over, done with, gone, forgotten,
just a list in time and space to lye rotting

Well iv' e news for you, you may not like,
I'm not just getting on my bike,
in times gone by you say i was a talker,
that's nothing to what i can be as a stalker.

No matter where, nor how, nor when,
our paths may cross once again,
you will see me talking, walking proud,
hear my laughter, long and loud.

watch me love again comply,
but will you have the guts to try,
wipe me out completely with shear frustration,
or will you be, premature in speculation.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.01.2010

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