The Egoist

If I wasn't such a coward I would kill myself
'cos I hate my life and I hate myself

If I wasn't such a coward I would kill myself
'cos I hate my life and I hate myself

I hate my life
and I want to die

I hate myself
and I wish I was dead

Posterity

At the age of 61
he died and was quietly buried
in the churchyard of the village
several miles outside our town

Of mourners there were few
but in time many famous writers
and critics of the day would come
to recognise his talent and his genius

And soon there after
people came from far afield
to show their admiration

For the poems and the stories
of this fragile unhappy
and neglected
solitary 

man

Here we see them even now
standing silent in respect

Face to face
with the headstone
of his unmarked grave

Beneath our Feet of Clay

With golden talk of peace and love
and silver tongues of fire and war

With singing bowls of bronze
and copper in our hands

And swords in scabbards
made of steel

We test the metal of our minds

Giving praises to the Gods

Without true knowledge of ourselves
by force of circumstance and chance

How can we call our work divine ?

-

With shame we walk upon the Earth
in search of crystal springs of water

Where we sit with Mother Nature
weeping for our sins

We try to wash away the past

These sediments of broken glass
gathered here in reservoirs

Beneath our feet of clay

The Wolf

First of all we can start
by giving something back

Perhaps by not trying
so damned hard

To keep it all
just for ourselves

From the top down
to the bottom up

From the tallest highest branch
of the giant redwood tree

To the grain of black dust
which is the seed of the poppy

From tiny hatching turtles
to top ranking birds of prey

For their own sake
and for our better nature

Let the wild places flourish
and a thousand flowers bloom

Attempting
to understand them

One among them
in the pack

A habitat of
trout filled lakes

And forests roamed
by grizzly bears and moose

In the clearing there ahead
stood a solitary wolf

The Echo of the Starting Gun

-1-

We'll give no quarter
till we're done

And by God
expected none

Said the Father
to the Son

Before the game
was half begun


-2-

We'll give them all
a damned good run

For their money
just for fun

And see them fall down
one by one

From break of dawn
till setting sun


-3-

They'll hear us shout
come on come on

The race will soon
be lost or won

And then they'll know
who's right or wrong

And hear within
the victor's song

The echo of
the starting gun

Before the Flood

Behold the Cross
upon the line

Between
the light and dark

A curve of motion
through the Ocean

Swimming
like a shark

Who scents the smell
of flesh and blood

We tell our tale
of hate and love

From time
long past

Before the Flood
when Noah built the Ark

From Head to Toe

In between eternalist and nihilist extremes
meaning feeling in the moment now
or so it seems to me

Cleaning cobwebs from the ceiling
where the paint is peeling off

I don't know what I'm perceiving
but I like to dream

Agree or disagree believing
this achievement
is complete

Appearances
can be deceiving when
you're staring at your feet

We Believe

Observe this 

We believe that you'll find it fascinating 

I don't know who you are 

Either of you 

But yes you do 

You know them well 

They are you 

The man who regrets 
and the man who forgets 

They are your past and future selves 

Gallifrey shall fall no more 

Tough Love

No one knows what you know
and if they did they wouldn't tell you

No one knows what you know
and in that act of knowing now you come

To understand how you are called to serve
the wishes of your God

Trust in Me

Passive aggressive

Everybody has a faith
Everybody needs someone

If you don't need me
around right now

It won't be long before
you need someone else

Liking or disliking
is a two-way street

If you repeat yourself too often
then people find you boring

But if you break
your promise to them
then they won't trust you

Sometimes it takes a long time
to get your vindication

In Good Faith

I'm glad to know
you have a faith

Yes I'm an anarchist
in the same way I'm a good vegetarian

Because I eat meat

What can you say when people tell you
that their teacher disappears in photographs ?

The best ones are always the ones
you didn't think worth writing down

So now you can't remember

Young Ones

Undeterred by the critical
bottom burp it received

Our four influential young Turks
set out once more

Riding the last train to oblivion

We can do exactly whatever
we bloody well want to do

And you know why ?

Because we're the young ones

And what we want to do
is have a fucking good time

Folk Art

The crowds were pleased

The King and Queen were jubilant

All human life is here in Blackpool

Polished turds
bums willys boobs

Gigantic cans of soda pop
with arms and legs

Backsides of cows and horses

We get away with murder don't we ?

Only we can pull it off

The great repression of the British public

Bred and fed by Madame George
and bacon sarnies

Standing by ye olde wishing well

Incredible bizarre peculiar surprising

And what's wrong with that ?

Midas Touch

The story is told
and you watch it unfold
as you live with it
day after day

Silence is golden
but not when you're cold
when your cold eyes
have nothing to say

You're bought and sold
with my pieces of gold
if I touch you then
you'll have to pay

My hand's so cold
but it's not when you're
holding it that's what
you're longing to say

Now I am old
I have riches and gold
but I cried when
my love went away

Sleep

A child who would not go to sleep

And here his Dad takes on the role
of sitting up with him all through the night

He had him curled up on his lap
in an armchair in the kitchen

At the time it seemed to him
that this torment and ordeal
would never end

But now when he looks back
he sees so well

How these long silent patient hours
spent together with his child were in fact
the most precious hours of his life

-

Counting my toes
on each foot
in turn

Starting with the left foot

First the big toe on my left foot
then the big toe on my right foot

Then the next toe

Then the next foot
and so on

Then back again
starting with the smallest toe

And then again
but this time starting with the right foot

And so it goes

Trying different ways
to exhaust all possible alternatives
to explore every permutation and paradigm

In this hopeless endless task I set myself
to seek out and achieve a final balance

To find fairness and symmetry

And then at last to go to sleep

Year on Year

Year on year
from branch to branch
and tiny twig dormouse
eating spangle gall
of ancient oak

Before mid-summer then till
favourite fruits and nuts
come into season
in the autumn

They will eat and eat
and gorge themselves on hazelnuts

To build up fat in preparation
for the winter when for many months
they will not feed at all

The Beacon (Don't Let Me Die)

Don't let me die in the city

Don't lay my body in the ground
under forecourts and car parks
and lay-bys and driveways

Burn my body in a pyre

Pile up the rough hewn timbers
under round and above

A great stack of ready firewood
cut down in proper time

From those self-same trees

Which I myself had planted
and tended over many years

By the labour of my own hands

Let me die in my country

The country of my Fathers

Let it be not far from home

But should it be so
then choose well

The aspect of
my point of leaving

On a hillside
well within clear sight
of the ocean or the sea

It's a comfort now
for me to know

Dear Mother

It's a comfort

It will always be so

Now for me to know
that you will be there too

To oversee the rites at last

To see that I'm sent off in style

In blaze of fire by night
and on into the early rising dawn

When dust and ashes
blow upon the sea breeze

And the merry wind
comes a blowing in
across the waves

To greet the newly broken day

The day that I could never know
when life went on without me

Nothing More

If you become aroused 
please allow 

These words 

to be your guide 

Be released 

In relaxation 

Breath 

You may well find 

discomfort now 

- 

This pleasure and this pain 

will very soon be no more 

Indeed it's nothing more 

than one passing moment of sensation 

- 

Nothing more 

Just one more 

One more event on the timeline 
in this causal chain of life 

Which must be known 
to you alone 

And which 

when all is one 

you can never share 

-

Observe this private fascinating 
state of physical arousal 

With these words 
gently naturally spontaneously 

Draw it up 
from the region 
of your sexual organs 

Gathering dissolving 

Drawing in and lifting up 

Don't waste it 

Use it well 

Be skillful 

- 

Starting with direct experience 

of the authentic sensations 
in these places 

Breathing in and out 

Be mindful of the downward voiding wind 

- 

By force of habit 
now come many other thoughts 

They are only there 

because of links 

made by association 

- 

Anticipation of excitement and the bliss 
and release of sexual congress 
with your consort 

Now here it is 

This is exactly 
what you asked for 

Again and again 
so many times in the past 

This is the thing 

And now you see 
here it is 

So take it and finally 
release yourself 
from suffering 

Nicola's Particular

Nicola's particular
about her choice of words

Funny ha ha or peculiar
uncommon or absurd

Merry or hilarious
gregariously learned

Or serious deliriously
speaking out of turn

She'll make you giggle

With a wiggle
and a wriggle of her nose

You'll be guaranteed to smile

From your head
down to your toes

Sexual innuendo pointing
to the bees and birds

Yes Nicola's particular
about her choice of words

When she's done

You'll rub your tummy
just below your shirt

That's because
her jokes will make you
laugh until it hurts

Crush

Summer days on our estate
of ice cream van and vapour trails
and girls in pink with pony tails
and cans of drink and painted nails

And after rain and sudden hail
dried up worms and slugs and snails
get trodden under foot and fail
to find a better future

-

What from this can we conclude ?

That little girls do as they should
but boys aren't nearly half as nice

Ask them once
They do it twice

So if you want some good advice
give sugar to the girls and spice

For little boys are far too rude
and slugs and snails should be their food

-

Now summer days are getting late
and here's a man who's found his mate
but neither he nor she can wait
to start their new adventure

For after rain and sudden hail
come girls in pink with pony tails
and who would think that they could fail
to find a better future ?

Subverting the Genre

Happy ending

Happy friend

Oh happy turn of phrase

A twist of fate
in the game

Of playing frame by frame

With the reader's expectations

At the Open Mic

Twelve noble rivers
of the county

And one more

A river of loose morals

This poem is too long
you say in just so many words

---

If you want to be my friend
I'll take that as a compliment

But if you don't
then you should know
I'll take it as an insult

Remember May 35

June 4 1989

The spectre of Tiananmen
hangs over Eastern Europe

Gorbachev says
to the Communist Party of Poland

Now we have
the Frank Sinatra doctrine

"Do it your way"

But everyone's asking
how far can they push it ???

Stability but with reform
Retrospective explanations

In the People's Republic of Amnesia

There's always gonna be
some things that you just can't say

Remember May 35