The straw boated man

The straw boated man croons
his battered guitar sings with strings along
waves are crashing as the fishermen
plays, a catamaran fights
the wind and wins
a carnage of flags and palm trees
bow
in ordnance to the dance
of the seagulls pirouettes on invisible thermals
only they can see, and hold, and romance
The gentleman sat to my right
is slowly basted red
although no sun has shed
in half a week
so the sangria is doing its job
I laugh inside, and realise
that my tan too is finalised.
A troll sits on the sea front wall
performing fellatio on a mint choc ice cream cone
a troll? perhaps a she teen
I try to focus and take it in
a bridge is left unguarded I fear
a tear
From the wind breakers
on my cheek
as the cone ejaculates green
on her second chin
and I weep.
It is time to return the cell of an apartment
retire my desire
prey for fire and warmth
the sea front closes
disclosure
I flip a Euro to the straw boated man
and sleep, weep
in the salty
aftermath
spanish legs raised
can can.

I met a Muslim and a Scotsman

It is no ones fault
except the forecasters who sold
the beds in the first place
I met a Muslim and a Scotsman
who swore in Arabic and Celt it had never
ever
happened before
the coffee liquor
and Quantro, may help me sleep tonight
to ignore the dust and stained sheets
and continue the fight.
A tattooed man smiles you see
he may be looking for someone like me
to explain the best bus routs to travel on
or the train I should board. to catch
I fasten the patio windows
double secure the latch
yet tonight I shall sleep
that much I guarantee
the house wines in my head
from the nightmare afternoon
yet it will, on a twist
set me free.

Do you fancy changing the world together?

Do you fancy changing the world together?
with your blue eyes and mine of black
reversing the aneurysm
the heart attack
instigating a reason to butterfly effect
a porcelain skin, i crave
grave and willing on an inlet
ship out and deviate
on menus we can not afford,
do you want to change the world together?
we dont understand and yet we trans pond
on a lillypad of time
spawn of cream and cry
I ate a tear and try to respond.
forever is not long enough for me
we saw a soar rising sun in the middle of nextyer year
a shadow danced in a ghost in an eighteen wheeled V
banjo Ally was all it found
do you want to change the world with me?
they say its impossible
it could never be done
but I travelled to insania, and found
a laughing insecurity, a fellow place
in my mind
it's a retrospective bareback ride
that I need to saddle forever
do you fancy chaining the world together?

Sentinel sentiment.

A cardinal scared and petrified
in a rock of roll and religion
peaked hat to forgive and emulsify
to climb above
and reach so high.
A priest of putrid sewage of language
spouted in abnormal times
embedded of a page
boy how did this look
in the middle, central eye.
Sir I will, and leave as a testament
a sentinel sentiment
a soldier to protect God in a thousand year myth
how dare you try
to dismiss this.
Layers so intertwined
I just lost interest in this rhyme
it is easy to dismiss this purified myth
I hope you all take the point of this.

I miss her

I miss her,
especially with the frosting's here on in
the English countryside bled white
ice and degrees zero
no longer heroes
blond haired and actual
I miss her
with the tree mounted and decorated
tinsel tasseled as a scarf
craved to be part of a family gone
away, torched in brandy
I miss her.
The empty bed, solo no glow anymore
I crave her delicate voice and thoughts
sounds only
throats obscured, insecure, fused and melted
I miss her.
tantamount climbing a face
again and again in my head
slipped, somewhere amongst the ascent
decent, too fast, lost my legs
I miss her.

X M A S T I M E xxx

Tis that time of year once again
when children glow amongst the lights on pine
awaiting Santa to descend down chimney pots
amongst the mince pies and alcohol beset to dine.
Whispers amongst parents, heard under pillows
a thousand secrets over years of time
will he, or wont he, am I good or bad?
the charades of anticipation in the noel bribed rhyme.
The glow of a nose guiding a sledge of truth
without Jesus nor God, just the red and the white
the snow it may tumble on the cards of the past
the decadent minced on pies of cartwheels delight.
Even the non believer can not stare into the eyes
into the son or the daughter and melt like the snow
with the history of pillow cases filled with gifts and no regrets
the dimmest cynical lights can illuminate and glow.
And so this is Christmas, beyond childhood pain
lets make it a new one, beyond the history we once knew
and gather a promise, amongst shadows of snow
this is glad tidings with white over blue.
So parents relax, within a knowledge of the myth
just as there ma and pa did on one winters eve
although we claimed, we would never do this
the power of Christmas forced us all to believe.

Cherubs we can not see

Cherubs faces etched in a stone plinth
ready to cry in a rain fueled mind
moss gathered on the cheeks of angels
Botticelli engraved, marbled to find.
Dry side against the rain scoured east
the back of the hand rubbed and imbibed
friction of forensics lighting the timber
persecuting the jurisdiction written subscribed.
An ornamental, committed to the wards
nurses and doctors caressing the cells
angels of non believers, hallowed the grave
tramping on meadows, orienteering the fells.
Clouds lined with the silk of distrust and grey
of dust powdered like rouge on the buttocks so spanked
a pure voice of echos singing in a storm
a leader of men gathered, divided, and flanked.
Heaven allows him to divide and beset
to gather amongst the underworld in a fire of lava and rock
the dearest of the family held hands and clenched
we looked towards the sky unbelieving, no longer the angels mock.
The cherubs sang in a sarcastic tone
and the blood gathered all around me
next decades will be better
we pronounced in nebula we can not see.