Friday 30 March 2018

Dance, Curious Joy (Keatles Poem)

Dog’s freckled kiss 
on salted skin, 
tasting only winter 
and drinking sin

silver kings that bound to heaven 

with woven wings of Autumn’s child 
a tired prophet sang of shadows
a tired prophet sang
bleat, honey, mild


wild bees shall murmurs blindly
mother flowers a golden burden
lay down your sapphire soul of dreaming 

lay down your soul of sorrows
lay down
lay down in Sunday’s sun
long visions, love


Blushing lily of winter’s smile 

under Monday’s moon
her harvest’s ghosts
bleat

memories of spring 

breathe, pale child 

breathe in

long love in fading sunshine
where fools lips ring
singing curious joy
and sweetest spirits whisper kindly 

and sparkling faces dance to drum



The lyrics are by myself using a combination of words compiled together from the Beatles and John Keats, using the Botnik predictive keyboard www.botnik.org. 

Sunday 18 March 2018

drafting

drafting 
and re- 
drafting 
until time 
is wasted 

i am lying 
in

lavish 

comfort


unsatisfied

Sunday 11 March 2018

Words for Christian

1.
Crawling hands with gasoline 
grey machine

cloud in her satin heart - 
resting beast.

hard faith, beating prayers 
hopeless revolution

2.
tongue red shoes,
shakey soul - -
a bullet tangled
in sugar smoking spiders - 

fingers pick toffee
from the horseman's cheek

angels knees slightly cracked 
mice trip tears and cry

3.
wisest book of fog 

diamond and dogs
lion blood
pocket sleep star 

moonlight lemon hearts 
porcupine clowns on their 
flying talking clock

to future's hangman
adopt a magic laugh
and keep the whale babies safely 






botnik poems, words by David Bowie - www.botnik.org.




Monday 5 March 2018

bucket by my leaking loo

i miss
my bucket by my leaking loo
the steady drop 
crossing paths with the beat of the hot tap,  tap  tap 

every four hours
i’d start again
and throw the water in the bath
like clockwork 
but before the clocks
had mastered stealing time

my unborn years:
forecast them — already lost

horses toes continue to drum,     drum       drum 
the earthy clay 
but even they have tumbled blindly into 
piles of ticking watch stops 
and can no longer run free





i am still waiting for the rebound
and
i want my time back












honesty

There’s honesty in an unmade bed: “She’s got nothing to hide”