Before the calm. ( collaboration with Jack Heslop )
Boil the blood, then drain the heart : a sense of mist a profanity hissed a witch's brew to be dismissed by all who'd loathe to tear apart... a fair foul with fair force [ you pluck the knife slit the scar add a splash of vinegar ]
2. We climbed the fabled steps and found nothing. no gods, no men, just an old and empty room. all too soon those simple cries of agony became howls of rage; betrayed by hate we found the streets again saw the gutted cars vacant urban...
..and it applies to people too", he said "you'll see when you get older" we got out of the car me, with a bundle of clothes under my arm Aunt Lena already had her front door open could smell the gas cooker heating the tea and she wanted to have it on the table for when my Dad and me sat down I loved her for it and I loved her for the way she talked to me despite the trouble I was in she winked at my Dad looked at me said "none of that here now ya gurrier" ...
Christy said he'd felt like an old balloon with a mild case of deflation you know the progression of such things will have it a limp spent spectacle til a pair of lips blow some air back into it I told him he was lucky to have a pair of lips handy went home and watered the cactus on the off-chance it was sick for the want of it and I hadn't noticed
never laid eyes on her never held her hand or brushed her hair or sat on a sofa and hummed a melody to her while she fell asleep in my arms because I've never given her mother benefit of the doubt don't know I ever will I think of her at times times which belong in photograph fourteen so there's no immediate plans to throw her life into disarray [/i]
ˇ) and time ain't no Robin Hood wouldn't give it space on my wrist because it cares for nothing (ˇˇ) She offered me space and I refused then she forced it upon me so I filled it with anger and drowned her
(ˇˇˇ) look at it, fool do you think ol' Mr Higgs gives a fiddler's fuck where the little hand points
Forty one hours in accident and emergency. a trilogy of musings
The guy who shuffles 'round corridors needs help to find a restroom then more to get back to his bed again for the umpteenth time could easily be perceived as scared lonely, shagged, or all three some look at him like he's seven shades of crazy ..but not me ii a young mother breaks: nuzzles her nose to the curve of her child's neck and takes to a quiet sob before she can...
She prays for me and I, for rain then, when it rains it rains immaculate and she is the snow pure soft, and driven and she is the wind that carries her kiss which brushes my lips so I can taste her on the tip of tongue and she is the flying fortress which carries the bomb and yes her hair is beautiful