career criminal

anxiety seizes
the heart of my soul
worries remind me
i've got to get on
with creating another
life, much like my own
i must discover for myself
what it is to be loved
and then - there's the gangs
of a hostile nature
demanding i sell drugs
for their greater
asunder,
but i'm not one
for giving up on life
i plan to rebell
and change my fate
i have no plans
to become a criminal
i don't want to spend
my life in a prison cell
i'm getting an education
and i hope to have a future
as a literary wizard
or a country singer.

outrage WWIII

a million evil cancer sticks
a cough that won't cure
a ropey geezer
whose throat weezes
like he's swallowed his tongue
18 years of smoking these
bloody blue minded
joints,
i choke on my breath
cancer must have given up
on wishing for this day to come
but i couldn't care less
if i have to offend
the populace of this nation
it fucking stinks!
what politics thinks,
is to champion a smelly fanny.
it's sorry to tell
the loved ones you know
what to say to those
who's unrelenting force
to settle some score
has become a bloody minded
outrage.

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!

stay indoors

the view out of my window
over the black tarmac
my sights raise higher
to the smoking chimney stacks
the grey industrial wastelands
far past the motorway
the weather pours down a sheet
of cold, acid rain.
my mood is something to be behold
i often feel the sorrow of the world
and when i am here,
alone in my flat
its like i can hear the silence talk
there are personalities calling out to me
people i loved and lost
the disembodied ghosts
of a thousand greatful hosts
who entertained me for want of friends.
and though its quiet up here,
in my apartment block
the hiss of white noise
is still audible
the rain's still falling,
silently it pours
while the world quietly eats
and stays indoors.

balam's donkey

i met a young lady
and set a date
for us to be together
and by a cruel twist of fate
i was hunted down
by the authority of state
to be incarcerated
in a psychiatric ward
for the charge of rape!
now, i ain't concerned
about a date's fidelity
but i ain't no criminal
or opportunist pedophile
i am innocent,
i protested for so many years
but my cries aren't heard
by those who keep me here
one day, i plan
to bust my way out of here
and tear down the edifice
of this civilised society
this country's a beast
a worthless prick
i pray it gets what's coming to it
for blaming me for this...

bjorn again

wrong turn
wrong number
turn about face
wild crazy fantasy
i found a special place
i was greeted
at the door
by a smiling woman
who took me inside
and showed me
loving,
then i leave to return
to the home i am
fond of
that happy place
i once resided
where i was taken care of.
and when i take a look
around me
i haven't left -
but i have returned
to the heart
that did the loving
way, way back
when i was born.

yenta

i believed in God
and Christ's resurrection
i professed i did love
with sweet,
honey - suckle perfection
yet, my yenta
was a fair lady
with azure blue eyes
who took all my loving
and using a disguise
betrayed and berated me
for loving her dearly
the shame of my name
is enough to move me
to write these honest
words to you
i sometimes think
you have a secret
porn studio,
'cause a boy like me
can't travel too far
without a friend of sorts
to accompany his thoughts
only i didn't come quick
i believe you're an honest woman
i can trust your words
you're a whore
and i love it!