Friday, 23 June 2017

FIND ME A MANTRA 3/3





well been
deep in a heavy 
philosophising jag

black rumination
on decay and the
soft condition

then
i
came
down
from
the
brain
clouds
to
the 
sofa
to
watch
a
dozen
or so

trailer park boys
back to back
on tv

i feel like
a nobel prize winning
mathematician
watching a cat
drink from its bowl

sometimes its hard 
to know what
to
think
about
it
all

~

and theres sirens too
out there on the A13

a falling whine
rolling like a tide
that
makes
me
straighten
and look
like a 
meerkat
would

someone is hurt out there
and people are helping

gospel
and
solution

a mantra for these days

someone is hurt out there
and people are helping



Image result for trailer park boys images

bubbles by dadelmann from hugelol.com

Thursday, 22 June 2017

FIND ME A MANTRA 2/3




what to write
when your mind is set
like
front
drive
cement
punched
and
ribbed
with
the
streetside 
shorthand
of the
starlike
shapes 
of bmx kids
blunt hands
telling
one old
one line
graffiti
story
of a date
one day
in
1985
?

~

then theres this bird
in the bush
out the front

its pink flowers
fell out last week

well he sings minimalism chirps
in
pretty good time
with
iggy pops american valhalla

its like he practiced all night
to
debut
it
for me
today

and
i
feel
weak 
with gratitude 
and sickness mist

~

well theres no tickboxes 
on govmnt forms 
for 
my
current
hydraulic 
leaks . . . is there for yours ?

and the bird 
off he goes now

to
find
what
he
needs
for
the
day



Image result for hand prints in cement date

from land.allears.net







Wednesday, 21 June 2017

FIND ME A MANTRA 1/3



what to write
when you want to write
but
all
your
notes
are 
like 
from 
a lunatics 
therapy diary

heavy on 
toilet 
observations
and the 
deliberate 
slide of the sun

~

i
need
a
mantra
that
steams
like
harmonies 
from out the compost

that
inspires
like
the daisies
losing
themselves
in
the
school
yards
melting
tarmac

still blinding white
and egg yolk yellow

under a simple
childish
sun



Image result for compost heap

from recycleforlewisham.com

Tuesday, 20 June 2017

TUESDAY POPS



GIVE IT A NAME
(FULL ENGLISH MESSFAST)

my raggedy meat posey
is
a
weep from a wound
i
picked
at
in the cough and surprise
of
first
rising

~

am i pan with angst
dancing like a dad
in dawns hard hinterland
wearing
wife
hemmed
pale 
jeans ?

or a field casualty
half fried like burger van bacon
and
clabby
in
the
clubbing
comedown ?

~

give it a name for me

i will write it 

on
all
my
shirts
washing labels

in supermarket sharpie

like in little school



YOU CAN TELL THE DEVILS TRYING

but
it
all
feels
like

half-arsed nightmare
among
the
custard cream crumbs
doesnt it ?

peanut dust
in my belly button
again
when the wifis out

and thats ok

its those slices
of overlit hd awareness

sharp as knives

that
tear
open
my
lomographic holga mind
into
a
pocket
apcalypse

you can tell the devils trying
but we are british

all
chips
baked beans
sorries

and a strange malleable birthright

with ketchup on






from telegraph.co.uk

Monday, 19 June 2017

INTERNATIONAL HAND SIGNALS















MONDAY POPPADOMS


ELECTIONS AS A QUIZ
WAR AS A HEIST

time was i used to laugh
at
bush jr
at his cia daddy
at
that
whole skullfaced crowd
stinking it up
and
the
drinks
came
fast
back then
tripping
on
their own cool heels
and
i
sat
bug eyed mad and drunk
hooked into rolling news

i can hardly laugh now
only manage some kind of bark
like
my
throats
dried
up
cos its dawn again
and i see 
a firing squad
lining up
in the rags of mist

maybe
its
cos
of
age exhaustion and awful awareness

or
the snowflake compassion
thats expanding 
in my soft cabbage mind

and i wonder now
now i'm shy of headlines 
if
rolling
booze
is
the
only
sane
reaction
when your leaders are certifiable
or
worse

seem to work
for the
russians



COFFEE POP

he said 
he would come for a coffee at noon

so he came for a coffee 
at half past noon

and
we
sat
under
one
single
50 mile
contrail
like a chalk line
on
a
blackboard
we
had
sat in front of
struggling to learn french

50 thousand
years
ago


BEACH PAST POP

sat out in the low spring sun
in its low wattage
and residual chill

am 
reminded
of being a kid
on englands windy beaches
forcing fun 
out the rockpools
and sand

searching for enid blyton caves

and waiting on the lunch rolls
the ice cream run
the seaside lights at night
and
a
pub
garden
with its mysterious free smell
of 
beer



Image result for enid blyton caves

from amazon.co.uk

Friday, 16 June 2017

FRIDAY POPPADOMS



A TV AD
I FORGET FOR WHAT

theres
a
tiger
in the bungalow

hes
half tranq'd
fully b'tiful
prob endangered
and
the 
contrast is delicious
when
he
lays
across
the 
divan
like
a
lightning striped 
deep-velvet emperor

noble 
and
guiltless

and i am jealous
window shopping
online
again


COUNT YOUR WEIRD BLESSINGS

if you got no legs johnny
and those tories johnny
they
cut
your
money 
and took your bedroom

but
you cant get out anyway johnny
to
see
what
else
they gone and done can you ?

so you see johnny
them tories got a plan dont they ?

much
more
than
just
spite


UNVOLUTION

we climbed out the lakes
saw the land
thought
fuck this
and quickly hid in the trees
and 
when we got our blood up
and came down again
we stood in the weird water 
of 
the 
looking 
glass
wasting ourselves
wondering at the moon

our opposing thumbs
stuck in the air

for a fast lift
out 
of
there



Image result for hitchhiking monkey

from pinterest.com

Thursday, 15 June 2017

THURSDAY POPS




A RUBY PORT CASK 
FOR FINISHING SCOTCH

all that drink

it was like i was in a barrel

going over niagra

scream-laughing
for
twenty
odd
years



TV POP
HITLER FOREVER APPARENTLY 

we watch people shop
watch nail paint dry

theres a half-hour
list of movies
jesus would have enjoyed

and at any one time
on one channel somewhere
always at least one

hitler show



FORGOTTEN BEAST REMINDS

at night
i hear

a kind of deep cough

it comes in the window
like from off across the marsh

could be the river port . . . 

but
sounds
more
like
something     big and forgotten
                     is
             clearing its throat

      as
       a
reminder

never for a speech



Image result for whisky port barrel

from scotchclubyeg.com

Wednesday, 14 June 2017

BAD ORIGAMI



its flat

its all gone flat

i found a plane
where its all A4

i chase my toilet roll tail
in a line drawing of a room

maybe its this weird tea
or more ordinary sickness

but 
its 
all 
2D 
today

call the dr 
call an architect 

to unfuck
my bad origami

~

i put on
one of them
black discs
with the
mountainous grooves in

put it on 
with hands like veneer
like potato peel

and its anything but flat now
and
something alive
heavy like meat
is
climbing
my
spine
and i wince
and it all bursts out

into a painting
in the air

~

its
torn up 
folded up
opened out
into
unicorns
and
flying cranes

its the cathedral for everyone
real as hearts and farts

invisible music

and

bonhams
drums


Image result for john bonham

from famousfix.com

Tuesday, 13 June 2017

SMALL BIRDS AND SLEEPSIDE DREAMS



small birds

new starlings

come out the apple tree
three at a time

and treat the lawn 
dense with clover
like

Homebase OAP weekend sale

~

could i be one
one day
and know what
to do ?

when to gather fibre
how to build ?

and
when the best time is
to shit on the roses ?

~

and the cosmonauts tranquilisers
came in vegetarian capsules

brought -
gift of rest
that regular oblivion

and
i
dreamed
i
was

beacon
in the big big sea

half light house half roman god
in levis
hoody
and
nike airs

oceans lapping at my doubleknot laces

~

and
the
new birds

small starlings

well they hatched
with a shopping list ready

i am on the back step
i look for the lizard they used to be

realising again
how uncomfortable it makes me
that 
they
have no arms

and if their wings
are really 
an adequate payoff




Image result for birds with arms

from kottke.org

Friday, 9 June 2017

OLD SCHOOL



i
remember
there was like a promise
in
the
cool
air
of those old school mornings

spring emptying out

the cut grass

a kind of freshness
of a town unwrapped

~

but 10 am lasted forever
and i felt trapped there
stranded and beached there

on 
a
grey plastic seat

behind
a
bubblegum desk

hand up for the bogs 

all 
the 
time

just to be alone

~

there was elation 
on the playing fields

freedom and space

scuffed shoes kicking
a dog chewed tennis ball

running and falling
there was always blood

and i remember
dirty bottles 
of sun warm
fall fat milk

monster munch crumbs
stuck
rounds
mouths
all day long

~

and the three pm bell
and the rush 
and bustle 
and buzz
of it being over

and the new reading book
and the new book mark

( cut from a donated greeting card )

turned into a heavy dread 
i was too young for

turned up blunt
down by the lavender bush

( scary bees & 
  ford cortinas
  vinyl roofs )

summer holiday ennui 
on the 
summer holiday lawn

i would hide
inside the trees

like
a
kid
in a story book

~

i remember
the autumn mornings empty blast

it fit like a coat

a parka
pen pockets
on the sleeve

i remember 
a kind of independence 
a kind of plastic calm
when after breakfast
i was putting out toast crumbs
for 
the 
birds

before school
fools
hormones
and

nuclear winter

unfound savilles
on the bbc




Image result for 1970s monster munch

from pinterest