pot luck - 2, 4, 8, 12, 19, 32

like many a fickle harlot
the girl we remembered from childhood
Julie was well thought of
as the beauty of our youth
whose charm doesn't fade
forever etched into copperplate
upon our wicked schemes
of long, late nights -
- hooch and banknotes
we gave our hearts'
to the town we loved
and it caught our favour
by allowing us to live!
oh, blessed Joy!
but then,
is that the door i hear?
a shriek of terror pierces the night air
and the sound of feathers
preened and dusted
coo, coo's at the window
we didn't deserve to lose
so many of our loved ones
not to the schemes of our fathers' footnotes
bad blood in the pot,
and being shortchanged at the till,
young ladies at the bar - would beggar you have it?
and the blag cafhy y' bangor
we did believe in you
and you were as good as any other
but we are being gently reminded
that for our own gravesend,
the loss will pierce all our hearts'
just to think -
- it could be us joining you there...

greet the day i see you

should i give it my heart
and reverse the future
throughout my life
there has been some challenge
where i must step up
and throw in my hat
raise my voice
and demand that i fight
for those beliefs i had
and the visions of myself
the dark - humoured super hero
who's love was granted
the moment i caught sight
of your emerald blue
eyes, of a dove -
- i thought to myself
of the heavens above
the heat of the sun
the softness of clouds
the contrast between
the earth -
- and the sky,
the city raises its profile
each morning at five
when i am waking myself
and i can hear your call.

night terrors

constant anxiety
gripping me fast
suffocating the very
heart in my chest
i have these fears
that hold me
behind, the fire door of my flat
i creep out silently
to escape,
this claustrophobic
sense of guilt
that i have some error
i should regret
for writing these words
as a lament
for all i have known
this is my life
i have the freedom
and liberty
to do as i please
but no one would ever like me
for thinking this...

rockstar

memories of a sensation
and a beautiful girl
a strange compulsion
to give this meaning
if its my head
and my heart,
then how could it
deceive me?
is there some drama
i missed,
when i was busy complaining?
'cause all i know is
this story can't sustain love
i can't think how or
why,
i fail to know how -
to be endearing to others'
then i must become
famous,
i often claim to be
a star of old
some forgotten old hippie
who once was a
rockstar.

a massage of the heart

i often wonder
about the truth of my mind
can i believe what i think?
is my perception sublime,
there's many thoughts of injustice
that creep up and worry me
my heart suffocates in a rapture of jealousy
i could swear that someone told me
when i was a young man
that our God is good - and would not harm you
but something evil waits in the streets
a tiger is loose and a dragon is sick
for the love of me is pityful
i am ashamed of my body
please don't show yours - it shows my inadequacy
hide and guard your jealousy well,
there's no better lover than me and myself
people tear at me
and humiliate my my confidence
what God would allow the abuse i conceive of?
there's stranger prose than this to explain my concern
but sometimes i believe that
something is wrong in this world.
innocence and knowledge, sex and commitment -
they can't co - exist without permanent damage
to the faith, joy and happiness of anyones' soul
it just makes it harder to understand who you are
maybe people get married to solve the frustration
of always being the damned, bloody minded wastrel
who wishes they knew better than to love
a beautiful liar,
who doesn't need you.

EcTC

blessed by a friend
who possessed the sacrament
of joyous celebration
and feverish ecstacy
joined by a common cause
and a hand of cards
two honest conversations
about the privation
of our thoughts
and a love birds' spirit
captured,
in the hollow of my heart
an epic story of faith
in a convict's
cause,
for the desperation
of his rebellion
was loves' golden promise
somewhat sweet and posey
a gentle stroke of a petal
by the fruit left hanging
too close to the honey bee
blossom on the branch
i feel the ecstacy
of coming into love
there's something giving way
i can feel my sense in motion
today is a good day.

the virgin isle

all's i wanted was a night out
i prayed and waited patiently
for a fair lady to come
but the evening was a catastrophe
i spent the evening broke
i stole some money from the monolith
the illustrious ancestors tomb
but of the worst - it did not come
i surprised myself with what i had done
my life had lined itself up - ducks in a row
with a relationship, i had always dreamed
of the Virgin Isle
i enjoyed some peace of mind
and i was entralled with joy
i could not wish for a greater reflection
other than Christ's resurrection
for my own life - a disaster
metaphorically,
i was waiting for the money to arrive
i suppose high in heaven,
or far below,
in the bowls of history
they're drinking for the good
of mankind and and their fruitful bough
within the borders of our nation
i know Christians well!