wreckage

 

words

 

cloud cuckoo

the fat south east

walled with money

smear their walls

in rape honey

give us a slice

of what you waste

but then we find

it has no taste.

I am disgusted,  I am impressed

you’ve got a throwaway body

in your cuckoo’s nest.

 

the gilded lawns

the gravelled drives

the gleaming cars

the shining lives

I am bewildered,  but I do understand

these are the normal things

in cloud cuckoo land.

 

into the golden

Life flows open

into the golden

clocks lie broken

spring’s unwinding

here in our heaven

there’s a year unfolding

that’s the reason that the

sap is rising.

 

Walls are wheels the world’s unweaving birds have sung

and the trees are leaving.

 

johnny

They met in a playground, in a taxi, in a bar at five past ten,

he was nearly peaking, she had never been as low as she was then,

he made up a story that was twice as good as anything

and she explained the reasons so it seemed like it was happening.

 

Johnny was a dreamer, he lay back on his back and lied,

he thought he was important, since he thought he really could be if he tried,

either she believed him, or she knew more than she cared to tell,

when two people get together heaven’s never very far from hell.

 

Johnny built a castle and they filled the castle up with bills,

because she was a princess they got credit for the wine and pills,

when the weather worsened and the paper walls began to leak

they got into their Bentley and they drove through 15 countries in a week.

 

She picked up her trenchcoat and she found herself another peg,

he looked at her departing, the goose that laid the golden eggs,

they threw away their crutches and then they found they had no legs,

but these things run in cycles, and it’s easier to steal than beg.

 

 

drops

drops in the stream

drops in the stream

anybody know the names of the drops in the stream?

 

lost in a dream

lost in a dream

anybody in this world is lost in a dream.

 

 

queen mother’s poem

children and dogs I ignore until bitten

I leave myself notes on which nothing is written

the world’s not my riddle, a biddable kitten

I purr to the clockwork routines of my system

these are the skills that we cherish in Britain

 

am I a dupe, or a prop, or a victim?

whose is the hand that requires such a mitten?

soldiers and wide-boys are equally smitten

cherished in Glasgow and loved in Thames Ditton

I who say nothing do little but listen

these are the skills which we cherish in Britain.

 

 

come pouring down

I have seen you in the street

I have seen you in my heart

I know that we could be together

if only we could make a start.

 

One day we will find a way

one day we will leave this place

one day we will make connection

we will vanish in a blaze of grace.

 

We’ll go diving in the sea

and we’ll go driving through that town

and we will be as we will be

and all my dreams come pouring down.

 

 

one thing

One thing I got to say

girl if you want to stay

I will give every day

I love you anyway.

 

One thing you got to know

girl if you got to go

there’s more I cannot show

if I can’t touch you though.

 

 

all for you

stars come out at night,

every night it’s new,

just to be polite,

all for you.

 

trees grow from the ground,

up into the blue,

thoroughly profound,

all for you.

 

though entirely mad

it’s completely true,

things you always had

all for you.

 

 

 

 

 

link to      brahma chop  /  catalogue