Call To Arms



Every day I read the news with growing trepidation.
It’s regression on a massive scale. The end of civilisation.
We’re not punishing those that caused this mess with lies, with greed, with ego.
But blaming folk who’ve nothing done and warring with nations we don’t know.
What year is this? Who’s in control? Where is Lady Justice?
She’s bound and gagged in a divan bed. Ransomed for the fame of her captress.
Of equal weight (or so we’re told) to celebrities, diets and twerking.
The blood on her sword is only her own so clearly, this system’s not working.
The children that need us the most,
Tragically fall through the ‘net
And children are taken when good parents seek help and hysterical healthcare objects.
Open your eyes and ignore the damned press! They have profits to make, don’t you see?
Horrors that happen go unreported and affect us – that’s you - and it’s me.
I do not believe it is really so hard to lay aside neighbourly spite
And just keep an eye out, get involved and speak up if something just doesn’t seem right.
Notice the pensioned! They are people too and their stories are going untold.
As we focus on disposable incomes of youth and deny our own growing old.
I don’t have the answers. I’m not the Messiah (or even a naughty boy),
I am just one person, sick of the nonsense and sick of acting coy.
I’m not asking for money, or a signed petition, or change in far flung lands.
I’m saying your community needs you before it ends up in God-knows-whose hands.

Get involved. Take an interest. Speak up! Go out!

Disenfranchisement is dead.

Earnestness is the future!

And without it?

Total extinction instead.


Recipe for Disaster

A handful of sugar.
A penny of salt.
A pinch for your thoughts,
your light and your faults.
A tight squeeze. A light squeeze.
Freshly squeezed orange
and you.
We squeezed into my single bed:
room enough for two.
But only room for one
in my heart and in my head.

Freshers Love

You tongue your way to my pleasure.

Fist claws cotton.

Breath escapes.

The film plays on -

Unwatched.

Sunlight plays on your spine.

Life continues below.

Our world is now.

If only I could remember your name.

Clown.

Just one more clown in his circus you are.
Such a public mockery.
You are a tool in his all-consuming self-love.
Unwilling to face the one way, blackhole nature of it all.
You stand in painted smile.
The audience watch clutching breath
for him to pull out the chair.
The ringmaster owns your eyes and time.
Are you so blinded by footlights
that you can truly call this
astounding self-degradation
love?

Just one more clown in his circus you are.
Watch the pretty girls lead the horses away.
The spectacle is leaving town.

Lazy Dreveries

I blow chains of momentary beauty
But they cannot capture the moments with you.
Watching the world hurry past
I saunter through thoughts idle and unworried.
I know that you will still be as imperfect
as the day you lent me your coat in the rain.
The old dog smell of wet leather
still warm from your body.
In death our flaws are in perfect perspective.
Who cares that you were always late?
now that you are.
 

06/04/04

As a teardrop I fall for you.
Melancholic. Mesmerised.
So far, so fast, so frail I fall.
Shattered before I crushed.
A stolen heartless kiss -
That thoughtless thief of trust.

Pools of blue that overflow.
Tissue peppered cheeks.
The condiments of grief.
I smile through gritted teeth.
And love love as my foe.

Hiding

Long sleeves. Long legs.
These lines are too telling.
I wish I could explain
how this pain helps that pain.
But language is limited.