October 2, 2016
It’s all about the rhythm of the words that your saying
You might be sitting down, standing up or kneeling down praying
This ain’t no fantasy football game we’re playing
It’s life, it’s tough and from the middle of your heart you’re paying.
January 2, 2016
Jumped into my battered car
Turned the key
Looked for solace in my A to Zee
Mist rolling in
Meeting at half-past three
See a man about a dog
But the meeting’s called off
They’re stuck in fog.
My options are limited now
So I swing a right
The clouds part
I get dazzled
Like someone flicked a switch
On some stadium lights,
A thousand watts of power
Is ringing in my ears
Some guy like a roadie
Takes a swig of beer
and pulls a plug in fear.
A huge silence appears
Hits me like my false self
When the real me should stand up
But I just sit –
glass half-empty in my hand.
Got to snap out of it,
I still need to practice my scales,
And walk the dog,
So it’s time to leave downtown
Get away from the lights
Back on the rails.
In the car
Billy Holliday full of emotion
Flashback with its druggy potion
Drive for 30 minutes
End at the begining
Turn the key
Look for answers
In my A to Z.
December 5, 2015
Blow the razor to clean it out
Brush back the pomade in my hair
Splash on some Harvard aftershave
Suck in a lungful of air
No words can describe
Why at this time in the morning
I just can’t stop yawning.
Pulling on my trousers
I thought over my mission for the day
And fed the cat to stop it tripping me up.
Yeah I’m stuck between the past
And the future’s constantly at bay,
Hungry but no time for breakfast
Time won’t wait for anyone and I’m late
like the white rabbit in ‘Alice’
On the 1st of May.
Being in the fifth dimension
Using my sizth sense
It’s a day of surprises
Starting with finding an ivy leaf
Then touching the skin of another
Swimming in the joy of being
In the rays of warm sun
Clasping a husky trunk,
Drinking in another lungful of air,
Whilst someone sketches a nude,
I realised that I am here still.
Alive. Not in the soil and
Not in pergatory or another
Place of suspended animation,
Blessed the day and this existence.
November 18, 2015
Hey all you slaves out there, you think you’ve got your freedom?
Or are you shackled by an institution – can’t work out the reason?
Shake of your drugs and habits, leave the place where you half-fit
Coffee, coke, Pina colada, just another half-hit.
Slave to a job or to a person like a mouse after cheese your trapped,
So if you think you’ve got control – bullshit your life is mapped
I can drive you all over town before you rumble
Smoking with the cake-man before the evening tumble.
From an innocent start you’ll be tempted to try
Like a fish on a hook you’ll be hung out to dry,
That is the time when the slave meets the master,
But the master’s a monster and that spells disaster.
Escape from enslavement is no easy measure
Freedom from pain means refuse earthly pleasure,
But there’s no gain without pain a lesson from history
Slave, shake off your bondage and seek out your liberty.
November 17, 2015
ten minutes ago
talking to Jones & Co.
a digital squirrel
described a Baltic recluse
with porcelain adjectives
drinking freshly squeezed
It’s a Balsamic scene
in a cut and paste society
You’re breaking-up John
Second floor room 23
vision of St. Paul’s behind me.
you are right
and I am wrong
searching for the ending
for a not long song.
November 14, 2015
Do you feel our pain when you punch us in the face
For being a Muslim, a Christian, a Jew, a Gay, a this or that?
Do you feel our pain when you bomb to stop us running
Or walking because you believe your cause is worth all of that?
Do you feel our pain when you shoot at point blank range
Because we look like a burglars trying to steal what’s yours?
Do you feel our pain when you detonate your jacket
While we’re watching football, hanging out or eating a meal?
Do you feel our pain?
It’s all insane.
All in vain.
November 2, 2015
Beware the bunion hunters
They never show mercy
leaving their horns swinging
in the saxophone tree
Where cremnitz-white signs
Flag a silent invasion
Of invisible dead.
October 24, 2015
I am going to blow some bubbles
But first I’ll chop some wood
Then I’m going to blow some
B, B, Bubbles,
I hope then you’ll feel good.
The colours are exquisite
Magenta, Blue and green
But just before the bubble pops
Yellow gold’s the scene.
It must be this or all the b-blowing
That gives me such a thrill
And words start falling on the page
Like bubbles down a hill
Spilling from my mind
I struggle for control
In a stream of consiousness
Flowing from my soul.
October 22, 2015
I just caught the man with the van
Who was driving off when I foiled his plan
I’ve got no milk but I do have apples
I drew a triangle, circle and square
Like I didn’t really care about the chill in the breeze,
Walk the dog and buy sweet peas.
The distant sound of an aircraft propeller,
Drew my attention from that dreamy thought
To the sight of glistening sun on waves
I am in Sopot in reckless gay abandon.
I started the day in a beatbox way
Felt so cocky with my hip-hop rap
But didn’t know where I was going
Like a driver with no gps map
I wanted to go downtown
But only got up the junction
With a flat tyre and no cell phone.
So I just sat and took
A swig of gin
Imagined pulling on a cuban cigar
And thought about my next move.
October 19, 2015
Too many pebbles on a beach to count
Two flying seagulls soar above waves
I smell the salt on sun-warmed skin
and hear feet crunching stones
Echo in caves.
Beach life. Life on the beach.
Fruit knife, slices a peach.
Laze away. A way to laze.
Turns to a haze.
Hot sand burns the soles of my feet
Sea-shells cut into my skin
The salt of the sea in the cut
Makes me flinch
String of beads on my necklace shrinks.