The story goes, in haste they flew.
A sudden urge within them grew
to conquest and for glory's sake;
to win the day, the prize to take.
With Tantalla, they swiftly made 5
their way through many nooks and shade
and under boughs and over tree
they sped like wild birds, swift and free.
Their larking made her break to song
and Tantalla raised up a throng 10
of dancing trees and bowing leaves.
The notes she sings with magics weave
to life the ancient grey lit trees
that rush in chorus, twos and threes

VIRGIN BUTTER

I never liked re-heated espresso
stale Italian bread for the dunking
spread with early morning butter
pricked by an onion stick
the night before.

Burnt rubber and rancid
nausea and acid.

How I miss those year’s
my very best years
of continental breakfast
all together.

sitting
in the corner
of a pub

I write vows
and eulogies
I speak
of the dead
visiting
the departed

speaking of love
waxing of life
on the breath
of a baby

I take minutes
of hours
I wrap my hands
in cheesecloth

stained with black
my fingernails
have loosened
from their beds

life passes through
my pen, surging
and ebbing
with each tragedy
or celebration

I read lips
hear tones
watching from afar
the faces

Sometimes I think
I am a bitch
In what I say
In words so rich
With cynicism and rhetoric
With harshness
Which makes you sick
And evil thoughts
Wishing death
On the worst
of my soul mates

When storms wrack me in my life
you bring back gentle breeze.
When cold acts cut me like a knife
we walk to set my soul at ease.

During times of pain and doubt
I feel you right here at my side.
As my journey takes me all about
like earth, I know you will abide.

The church where I prefer to go,
hand made by time and sun and rain,
Mere chemistry won't make it grow
or let it heal a tired man's pain.

poet’s final resort!
this singular site tis
of the worlds best
here self styled poets
self mutually praise
and double their comment
those like you and i
we finally lament.

don’t be amazed
it’s not like other sites
where they only praise
and
money you do so raise.

you have to read a lot friend
and
don’t leave with tears
towards the end

as tears can be discomforting too
then don't say
loved
didn’t warn you

It was late in history
the cities had flourished,
grown into bound structures.
Bounded by reflective walls.

Our England had shrunk
Into blobs of black glass
Surrounded by tilled land
The realm of machines

The out lands of growth
Machine controlled
Control from the city
Operators playing games

A game called survival
Between each city a link
The new inter city way
Compartmented travel

no one sees them
as the veils begin to shift
and night falls

ghosts begin their walk
high heels tattered, cracked and worn
jeans stiff from two days wear
jesus dangling between their breasts
at the corner of a downturned mouth
spit and a cigarette gather

jittering and itching they rub their arms
awaiting the next rush and run YEAH !
when the cops are around, night creatures
they scamper and skitter into the shade

rolling through the shadows
keep aligned against the healed
cuts
receipts to worth
this work

sunlight frond
glowing
the manicured malestrom
well heeled
The beast
feels

Rivulet shake
this naked soul
exposed
star fallen

an ambrosia
hidden in a half
turn look

I saved the lip
print succulent
pressed in pages
of a book

our diary of
emergence
a dazzle of
radius
encounter
intoxicant
in the brush
and gaze

cathedrals for sale
also palaces, castles, snake pits
and other defunct objects
of former affection

though beautiful in their day,
the weight of these monstrocities
has left the holding estates in abject ruin
due to lack of interest, brains
and tithes