Maybe
Maybe if I'd worn my watch
Maybe if I'd donned a different shirt
Maybe if I'd seen it somewhere else
Perhaps there wouldn't be this hurt
Maybe if I'd hugged my scarf
Maybe if I'd kissed the badge some more
Maybe if I'd said a different prayer
Perhaps I could have been more sure
Maybe if I'd gone there
Maybe if I'd ate some dinner
Maybe if I'd sung that song
Perhaps I could have been a winner
Maybe if I'd had some dreams
Maybe if I'd gone to work today
Maybe if I'd had more faith
Perhaps there would not be this dismay
Maybes are the way of things
Maybes are a part of life
Maybes help and sometimes don't
Perhaps our maybes are our right
For The Forgotten
Wandering the cold and ordered rubble laid by man
He collapses under weight of useless thought and skin
Wings ripped and talons suited not to earth
He has fallen, left by the devil far from his heavens
And now the snarling beast approaches, fangs and claws
The broken aviator resigned to pain and torment
But the beast gives not a second care or thought
Too wretched even for the ravages of evil
The growing stars and fading dusk descend upon this stage
Torn and lost, no good for beasts, nor man, nor God
He waits for the winged reaper's slow descent
Soon will fall an icy hand, and pain will leave for ever
There will be no reprieve, no miracle or pardon
Doom awaits just a few ticks or tocks away
And so he slips away and leaves his body, soon of dust
The night will fall and light will rise and he will be gone
And life goes on
The Idle King, He Never Left
He sits
Upon his throne of ice and frost, he grows grey
Nothing left of wars and journeys past
He sits
Beloved of the howling wind and fraying cloth
In darkness entombed, beneath the dying light
Perpetual twilight echoes through his halls
No queen, no kin, no subjects left
He sits
His skin a cobweb long in the dust
Sunken, sallow eyes fixed in oblivion
Cracked lips silent in the caverns of his night
But there!
A breath!
From inside his stony bones, a breath!
Alive in bleak and endless black
The Idle King is long awake in waiting
Watching life above him rot
His veins still pump their creeping sap
His heart still thumps
His mind intact
He sits
The Idle King, he never left
And now he sees a poison swamp
An oozing, bloated pit!
Disgusted in his dying Gaia's breast
Bellow his fallen Father's stars
He sits
And long dead veins, cracked skin and bones of stone
They shift and slither, push and pump
And eyes as dry as desert sand become afresh
And a tear
A single drop of Ocean water, its life, and what's beyond
Trickles down those ashen cheeks
And falls from silver whiskers
Almost endless in descent it flies
And crashes into dusty robes that crack
A rumble through the twilight halls
Murmuring, a rustle from the shadows
And all falls still again
He sits
The Idle King, asleep in broken, attentive silence
Looks up in dreams on a world long gone
Of heroes, voyages and love
Departed from his waking world
He sits
Lost in the gaze of History's muse
Dead to our rotten swamp once more
In his darkness, his silence and his dust
In his vacant eyes, his peaceful lips and his sleep
He sits
Forever.
Johnny The Kid, The One Armed Man, And The Adventure Of The Rojo Burro
Johnnie The Kid strolled into the street and faced his long standing foe
Not for the first, and not for the last, he would be toe to toe
With the One Armed Man in the one street town under the burning sun
The sweat dripped down, the town folk ran in the wake of the imminent gun
The crack of the smoke, the wisp of the bang and the blood that will spill on the sand
Johnnie The Kid and the One Armed Man each held and iron in hand
But on that day under burning orb and in the one street town of the west
This war of legend, this epic struggle, this battle was in for an overdue rest
For in the street, about half way down stood a statue made out of the clay
That Indians make in the tents of the plains and sculpt into tokens and pay
But different from those that they use for their needs this statue had stories to tell
It was a red donkey with a map on its ear to gold after journeys through hell
So Johnnie The Kid lifted gun to the air and lifted his thumb from the hammer
The One Armed Man, he did the same and between them peace held her banner
They strode forward and met by the horses about half way down the street
Each of them stooped and cautiously held, the statue that led to that treat
And on the ear of the red donkey's head, as legend said, a line led up to a cross
The start of the trail was this street in this town, but as to the end they were lost
So as the sun sank the two men walked on as the people from town all came home
And up on the hill, a few hours gone, a fire sprang up, its wisp of smoke all alone
By early morn, the two had set off, riding at gallops on broken steeds
Forcing through brush where coyotes sang to the rhythm of the tumbling weeds
Johnnie the kid, spied on the map that he'd carved into wood that past night
That over the horizon, then over three more, lay that pile of gold out of sight
And the One Armed Man sat in his saddle glaring at the Burro propped up
He wondered what would be made of gold, a sceptre, a crown or a cup
But in his black heart, that One Armed Man, secretly plotted a trick
He'd kill Johnnie the Kid and smash that Statue and take every crown, every brick
And Johnnie The Kid, who sat on his left had similar thoughts in his mind
If he defeated his travelling foe, he could lay claim to every new find
So both of them plotted, both of them schemed and both of them new eachother's soul
But on they both rode through the deserts and hills and each just thought of their goal
The days burned their forearms that slacked at the reins as the horses each hour they tired
The fire above them and the wind from the sand so each breath from the west it felt fired
After four days with the donkey's advice and sleeping out under the stars and the moon
Johnnie the Kid and the One Armed Man, upon tired horses arrived at their goal around noon
Under a rock in the first greying skies lay a mound of precious gold items
Crowns, sceptres, armbands and beads each one bedecked with fine jems
So Johnnie The Kid and the One Armed Man looked on in awe at their treasure
Each one thinking of pride and finery, money, leisure and pleasure
So tired were they that under those greying skies the two of them shared an expression
Could it just be that these two old foes had finely learnt an impossible lesson?
They counted the gold and divided it up and loaded their horses with fare
Each one of them turned and nodded salutes seemingly content just to share
But after one step, each of them turned and drew the irons that hung from their hips
A crack on the hill, and a scaring of flocks and not a word fell from their lips
A slump and a fall as both of them dropped and collapsed under dark greying cloud
The Rojo Burro had not uttered a word but no sound was ever so loud
As it hit the dirt as rain started to fall and as the echoes died from those shots
Had they only shown trust, had they just found content, each man could have had his lots
So now in a tepee up on the plains, an old Indian relates these accounts as they go
About Johnnie the Kid, the One Armed Man and the curse of the Rojo Burro.
Dirty Rat
A little vermin mobster works inside my bin
Running all his rackets and brewing up some sin
Eating all my dog-ends and fighting all his kin
This rotten little rat is kicking up a din
He commands the cockroaches, the mice and all his fleas
He sends them out on mob hits and brings badgers to their knees
Receiving all the kick backs from every rat he sees
This little vermin mobster has a pent house up my tree
But when the noble cat appears he has to duck inside
Because of razor teeth and claws a birth is given wide
But when the tabby copper has gone back, it returns his pride
And the dirty little rat gets back in the bin from his hidden hide
But one day when in the trash the rat did spin around
And the tabby copper's frame was in his eye-line found
He strafed to his left and then his right but then he made a sound
And the tabby copper's sights fell upon the vermin's mound
He prowled around the garbage and sniffed at every can
Looking under empty bottles and over a broken pan
The cat then saw the dirty rat stuck without a plan
His nails grew, his ears went flat and he knew he had his man
The pounce, chase and catch, it lasted just a blink
And sat watching from my chair it gave me chance to think
To wonder on mortality and how life is on the brink
From dirty rat to tabby cat it doesn't last a wink
Red Pigion
There's a pigeon in my chimney
I don't know what to do
He talks about a revolution
Calling "coup, coup, coup!"
His heroes are the robin
The cardinal and Guevara
He used to be a Trotskyite
But now Stalin' is his martyr
He sits inside my chimney
And waves his little red book
Calling on the blackbirds
The roosters and the rook
To throw off all their twitching chains
And then embrace Karl Marx
He even stayed up past the sun
To remonstrate with owl and lark
About how nature's wavering
And favouring the mammal
Birds are now the second class
O'er here and cross the channel
A global movement on the wing
To no longer bare this weather
To fight the furry, hairy foe
And truly flock together
He talks about a revolution
Calling "coup, coup, coup!"
So one night I lit a fire
And from my chimney he quickly flew.
Cactus River
The doors opened onto purple
Half ripple/half shimmer darting slowly
Inner kingdom unexplored shimmering before me
Bright darkness filled with soft
Bristling hairs swim up my arm diving like salmon beneath the follicles
My eyelashes line the rocky banks of my shoulders baring their needle teeth
Drinking in the solid clouds upon my new aura new aurora
Burning
Now the tapping ticks and clicks across the inside of my tongue tasting loud
Perception
Empirical elixir telling me how my fingers have become hands
Lifting numbers out of thin air ending speculation
With breathtaking infatuation
Perfect cool in new world's oven
Awake
Showing off to me, myself and I who are sitting on the couch, chair and stair respectively
I'm sitting on a large black cat purring
Beneath me like furred jelly danger of drowning
Chess piece warring on my tiled floor cold and white, clammy
There's a heart in the palm of my hand
Thumping and churning
As I'm borne upon the panther in the purple cactus river
Alone again in riotous empathic plurals
And now the eyelids fall falling and slipping
Drifting back into the boredom of conscious and subconscious
States places of the mind contained
Drained in ecstasy and splashed with waking cold water sleep
To dream
Now mediocre in the wake of what is done
Is done
An Ode To Homer Simpson
O yellow dome with ears initialled
And eyes so white and clear
O muzzled jaw and pointed nose
Tickled by a bubbling beer
We will that you draw us forever
And never find the paper bin
Keep us all in yellow fever
A cure for which would be a sin
I choke on laughs just like your son
And learn your wise and sagest speech
We aspire to your high position
Just like the donut that’s out of reach
We are not worthy of your D’oh!
O salivations keep us in tears
You’re a magical man with powers great
Like not aging in over 20 years
So think your thoughts and let mind wander
So drink that Duff and dribble goo
Learn and laugh and care and cry
There really is no-one like you
O if only there was a Springfield
With three-eyed fish and the tavern Moe’s
O to come to come and shake your hand
But where you are, no-one knows
The Scottish Night
It’s a different kind of black up here
Pricked with many peeking stars
Or pitch that heavy, cloaks the world
Electric light runs from the cold
The open door now teases curtain
As the blackened wind lounges home
Across the murky moor land roaming
Like some confused and angry beast
Resting in the brushing heather
Tapping at the first floor window
About the loch a shape invisible
Has seen the cowering light to kill
The pure, clean air masks the shift
A pounce is made upon the door
What weary heads dream up, up here
Your Blue Eyes
(and please remember that I can’t write love poems)
I’ve seen the desert skies at noon
I’ve seen Capri’s hidden treasure
I’ve swum in warm, pacific seas
But your blue eyes are something new
I could drown a thousand times in those
And would never miss a blink
But every time those peepers close
I feel my heart begin to sink
But when they open up again
Like azure sweet-peas in bursting bloom
Or supernovas in heaven’s depths
They could illuminate the darkest room
I didn’t want these words to rhyme
Please take them true and from my heart
That stupid Elton song came on
I’d never think your eyes were green
But they are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen
Like frozen suns still full of warmth
With your pale skin and jet black hair
You are the tonic for every desire
There’s no point to these words, I guess
No moral, it just needed saying
Your blue eyes mean two worlds to me
I just hope you see, they’re my everything
Little Mad Rat
(What I said on the way to the dump)
I hope you’re ok, but, just so you know, you don’t look it.
So that’s why I trapped you, and that’s why I’m taking you to the dump.
It’s nice there, rotten apples and somewhere to hide.
And if you are dying, it’s a nicer place to die.
I probably should have killed you myself, but… I dunno…
If you weren’t so feeble, tired and mad, I would have done.
It’s nothing personal, but what with the plague and the destruction,
Y’know… you guys got a bad press, but I guess you deserved it.
So, you’re still alive… for now. Maybe I should have put you out of your misery.
But you might get better, and who are you going to give the plague to?
Just running around in circles on my driveway.
If I’d left you, the cat would have done the deed for me anyway,
But he can be a right bastard, so a slow, mad death might be better.
Ok, there you go… go on… run, eat some apples… go on…
Look, it’s ok here. Much safer than my driveway.
Come on, man… Get off the tile. Eat some apples or something.
Good lad. Ok, well, good luck to you. The big birds are ok.
They’re just Red Kites. They look, and act, like big chickens. No worries there.
GO ON! HIDE! RUN AWAY!!… Don’t just sit there!!!
If you just sit there, something’ll kill you!
Ok, you made me do this. I’m going to throw this stick at you.
Don’t look at me like that. I hate doing this, but it’s for your own good.
Just run away and it’ll all be ok.
There’s a good little, mad rat
See ya.
I hope he’s ok.
Write Something
Make it deep. Important like.
There must be something,
Fantastical, relevant or real.
So why is nothing forthcoming?
I tried cats, guitars and me.
Squat, nout, nadder and zip.
It’s either been done before,
Or I can’t do it. Somehow. Why?
I want to write but it won’t work
So, why can’t I do it now!!?!!
Philosophy
I never got why we stopped talking
We drifted apart but nothing changed
Do you remember the coffees on the street?
I always had to face the shop just so
You could look out for pretty cars on the road
And we’d put the world to rights and fight
Over cute, little things like VW Beatles
But then we stopped and I don’t know why
Maybe it was a bad year for cars or something
I wish it hadn’t been because we were close
And then I made you laugh today and,
Suddenly, four empty years just disappeared.
Words For Future Poems
Rapscallions Juggernaut
Reinforcement
Bejewelled Dynasty Writhe
Panache Photosensitivity
Domicile Lambasted
Innumerable Envisaged
Hobgoblin Leviathan
Reflection
The darkness beyond the failing light
Framed in pane with dirt and scuffs
Wherein the bearded man resides
A familiar stranger with shadowed eyes
The thinkers, they would say it’s me
Paralleled with pitch behind, yet wan
Pale in comparison and lost within the glass
Transparent, torn within this mirrored farce
What purpose does this daemon hold
Except to taunt my soul ‘til morning wakes
Searching for what light there is in me
From twilight worlds, what do you see?
My spirit trapped in airy bars and sun
Caught between my thoughts and cares
Held by freedom, mortality and years
Guarded by emotions, theories and ideas
Yet from some other world you laugh
Amused by my toiling in captivity
I’ll drink to your sick revelry, dark sir
Until rosy fingered Dawn makes us both a blur
Existence (haiku)
Sun it has gone up
I do nothing and nothing
Sun goes down again
King Limbo
I had a past, I have a future
But I wasn’t gifted with a present
My Current Prospects are fool’s gold
Black hole, no event on the horizon
The day after tomorrow, I’ll have my cake
But everyday just brings tomorrow again
I could have been Indiana Jones, I think
Except I missed something somewhere
It’s like jogging through a jelly-mould
While waiting for a train at a bus stop
Killing time with cigarettes and a big TV
Its like crawling into an oven on a cold day
If I don’t look at a clock, the sun is still
Perhaps, if I stay under tomorrow’s covers
Not acknowledging tomorrow, not taking its calls
I’ll wake up the day after, and life can start again
Control/Fight/Pain/End
Collapsed in a fuzzy feeling
Torn from the gallows to be fed to the crows
The noose still burns
A red wheel about my throat
Choking and raised
I cough up some more blood
Grabbing at the drugs I need to be me
To be your marionette
Playing your poisoned pipe
And laughing
Shaking from the cold but sweating
Pulling at your chains with stumps
Bloody growths that used to be fingers
Worn down and out
Whimpering and lost
I never met your high standards
I wouldn’t fuck over for the sake of it
Could never kill the healthy
Was too quick to kill the lame
Shot for caring and beaten for love
Scarred and scared I reached for you
Just as far as you would let me
Then you bit down hard again
But I never screamed for you
Never gave you the satisfaction
So you twisted the knife
And you pull out my hair
Clubbed me with your foul moods
Leaving me huddled
Puddles of blood and pain
Put that last cigarette out on me
Give me the burning one more time
Kick me and fuck off
As pathetic as I am, I’ll stand again
I’ll cure, you’ll always be sick
And when it comes to the end
When the villagers have you in the flaming tower
When you’re shot full of holes
I’ll be there with your twisted knife
And it won’t take a second
You’ll feel pain because you need to
It’ll hurt real good inside
Then it will all go quiet and white
You’ll be gone forever
And I’ll be a hero again
Deading me. (4 parts)
1.
It hurts deep down
It’s a black and purple pain
Chewing on my soul
Slobbering into the teeth marks
Feeling for the veins
Shards of glass inside me
Scratching through the layers
Fucking up my mind
2.
You dealt the cards
Face down, big blinds and you were bluffing
I played straight
Being the good guy with the short stack
I lost
3.
Black suit towers over me
Six midnight shoulders underneath
High on ashen wastes I’m brought
The monster dead, for all to see
4.
The final note, the end of all of this
Our parting breakers split away
You get the trophy, I get the shit
But I’ll be back another day
This last bit, this number four
Isn’t meant to be a work of art
It’s just the truth, the be all and end
What I need to say, my little part
What you did will get you hell
In this life and for what’s to come
You don’t deserve to ever smile
Or feel the warmth of the heaven’s sun
I hope you suffer, and I hope you break
For every tear I shed, I’d see ten from you
But I’ll not watch, I won’t even care
Because, just like you said “who cares what‘s true”
Winter
Grey clouds hide the light I need
I’ve got what I wanted but I’m still pissed
Don’t want to be here
Don’t want to hear this
Don’t want this either
Cold fingers and a dead cigarette
Something’s going to kill me right?
May as well fight for control
Planes bringing people back
To the cold, the waste and the wasted
Brown leaves crack beneath me
I guess I’m not the only thing that’s dead around here
Her
A voice so sweet but cracked
Like broken toffee, melting in her mouth
Chocolate words suck my ears
And frosted pink upon her lips
Piercing eyes tear me to shreds
Grey green like the violet’s leaves
Pouring over my skin and into my soul
Darting between the layers of my essence
When she looks and speaks to me
I lose what grace I ever had and fall
Fool am I to not say something more
Just my humour, and not myself
But I never could, and never will
For she deserves a greater beast than I
So through torn mind and heart I’ll cower
The fool, the lost and the lover
Relief
Dripping down the back of my forehead
Leaking 100% proof guilt
Bad/Ill dribbling away into coolness
Elbows have gone stiff
I can feel my skin more than before
I can feel other people’s eyes
Stroking me like an ancient whore
Just feeling nasty
I miss the high, sawing upwards inside
Bring back the fear
Put me in the dark room with the snake
Kick me off the plane
I want to rush, speed through terror and into guilt again
Bring back the pain of guilt
Not Happy
This hurts like a kick
Right in the gut sudden and sharp
Colder than anything
It’s not even real, but that makes it worse
Smiling would be impossible
The muscles in my cheeks
Feel like they’re crying
My mind’s on overdrive
It won’t stop, but I don’t know what I’m
Thinking about
Shivering without moving
Like all the hairs on my body just
Died What’s wrong with me?
Bleeding dry
Without shedding a drop
Bruised without a mark on me
I feel lifeless
Like something left me
Will or hope or something
And my eyes won’t focus for more than
A second
I don’t want this
I don’t want to feel
I just want to smile
Shaking
And shaken
This
Dripping blackness strangles the soft lights that used to cut through my windows
Oozing, in a slow and rotten dribble that ought to make a sucking sound
But its silence eats away at sounds and pushes me back into my own hell
And all the pain creeps back and I writhe, snap and choke all over again
I can’t escape it because this mess, this wretched shell and smoking soul is me
Life didn’t want me but it was too late to get rid of me, & I’m too stubborn to go
So I’ll wait this out, and I’ll let this room fill until it covers me with darkness
No one needs to remember, no one needs to care, just let me slip away with the tide