Sunday, October 20, 2013


To pass a law
is much the same
as a how-de-do
in Old Entish.

Don't be hasty
Let the moss grow thick
on your curling (t)wig
My Lord Chief Justice.

As syllables roll
and rumble, bark
and so bite
into paper.

Drink deep
of your ent-draught
Let the ink
grow you tall.

When in time, hammer falls
on the crime-walls
of Isengard.
Hoom, hom!

"Deciding what to do does not take Ents so long as going over all the facts and events that they have to make up their minds about. Still, it is no use denying, we shall be here a long time yet." - Fangorn.

Friday, March 1, 2013


...or Equinox, it's hard to care
when wintry bites kiss skin, waft hair
around your face, while ghost-white sun
hangs overhead, illuminating
frosty diamonds left in clumps at roadsides, and the earthbanks
raised to hem in cars, keep everything in place.

The silent hedges, bare and brown-black
long and shallow vale between the hollow hills
and monolith on monolith, alone, but gathered
in a slow, stately procession.

Cardinal, the points among the hills a-ringing valley ways
marked by tumulus and trees, and once, a farmer's wards
Keep off! Private property
but we all know that some would sneak in, after dark
and surreptitiously smoke fags, and proffer cans
and these the worshippers.

The youth are not so much for new-hight-old
there's too much of the secondary school
to bold
and brave
and wild old priests
or witches who fought cops, and bombs
amidst the dawning of Aquarius.

'This place is ours, go get your own!
We earned our every dreadlock, face-line, frown
and sense of false belonging,' thronging, as they say it
but without the words, unless it be to clasp 'the maiden stone' to bosom.
'If you look here,' one enraptured earnestly proclaims,
'This timeless hole through stone enables one to spy the exact point of noonday sun
at holy time.'

Have I the heart to tell her now
that dynamite, and over-zealous archaeology
the barest whit of time gone by
caused this so 'timeless' hole?
I do.
She scowls, and hugs the grey stone tighter, tight
as if it wailed, a bairn all cosy in her stubborn arms.
A dog runs madly up and down a slope
A ball is all his want.
And mine?
The pub, and good, gold mead.
My thirst's for different waters.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Discomfort Food

I can't write, but
I can't not write
If only I can stay
Right here
Nerves thrumming
Fingers drumming
Make-believe that I'm alive and
Watch the hours go slipping way, way away

Inaction's where the real action is.

Fear's my guide, yet
Fear won't guide me
All it does is just
Cripple, and compress
Crawling, distress
Sitting, standing, waiting for the headsman
I gave him the hood, the axe, the job

There's nothing in this.

To hell with the calories.  I have to burn this off before it sticks.


Special thanks to Tones on Tail, whose number 'Instrumental' got me through this one.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Short and Horrible

What have I told you of dropping at eaves
Were you not sworn not to listen?
Folk shouldn't hark
to things after dark
Now you just lie there, and glisten.

Didn't I bid you to button your coat?
Fog in the hollows is pooling.
People who turn
wish they'd never learned
Love, you are rapidly cooling.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Three A.M., Swansea

I'm the only man on these streets
Water running under my feet is singing
the last number that the D.J.'s spinning.

Though, he isn't here, and there's no music
but the rhythm of my feet, and the cooling sweat
under the leather jacket.

The last living things
under these tangerine stars, with their concrete supports
and the haze of blue-black far above them
are the cats.  Not me.

I died back there
under the lights
inside the beat.
I died, and kept falling
long after the last notes fell out of the air.

Here's my heaven
A city hushed at the footfall of a pale spectre
A boy flying home on the three a.m boots express
through long, flat stretches
and tumbling hills

His eyes are studded with starlight
and the zips on the jacket
are all that`s holding back his wings.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Two Since Gone

When I was small
There was the nightmare
A speeding car, drawing away
The leadfoot driver, safe because
He isn't me.

The back seat's too big and the window's too wide
The glass will shatter, it's coming inside

I'm going to die.


When I was small
There was the nightmare
The playground's lit, sodium glare
The daylight children, safe because
They aren't me.

The light doesn't matter, the adults can't see
The time's come, it's waited so patiently

I'm going to die.