Cat Fight at the Pub

A Little Strength.

With a little strength

I lift my eyes to yours.

Superman could not hold their glance.

Divorce.

So, you and him finally blew up,

And repetitious histories draw concluded,

"Marry me, fly with me, to the west...."

Deny the individual requests,

Now seem as irrelevant, and self

Self, self,

Turn now inwards, homewards, to where,

One concentrates on more immediate

And biological schemes.

Streams of fancy,

Dreams for dotage,

Not yet old friend,

Not yet.

Exploder, jealous and at least untrusting,

Mature, so adult, so

Bloody unfair.

Here's another old one.....

Bullet Heaven

Somewhen, somehow, propped up on something,

Slugs, fourteen, fifteen, throat to groin,

Yet

I'm still standing.

Though its the pain that's in slow motion,

Seeing as how I'm in love with you,

But my life is passing before my eyes.

Your deep blonde sap catches me in the flow,

And fossilised, I'm trapped, forever in bullet heaven.

Bleeding, still standing, propped up on something,

The warm tide of love ebbs, flows,

Sweeps me deep into you,

Seeing as how you shoot me dead.

My love still stands,

As I clutch the banister, and slow,

Slowly collapse, as the pain,

Catches up.

My blood on your floor,

On your phone,

On your dress,

As the flow slides, and we, somehow,

Somewhen, sometime, survive,

To see the flowers open and trap my bee,

In this mad fossil heaven,

But so, god-dammit, I love you.

Bolts.

Just put sky hooks and restraint,

Right out of this arena.

All is bolts.

Bolts is all.

Nuts, screws, nails, hooks, hinges,

Bolts to perspex.

But perspex is best,

To shield and save,

Protect and survive.

Deflect gamma, alpha, theta, beta,

Lead lined particles particular,

To this region of your thought,

Arenas of doubt.

On the subject of which,

Who, what, how, why,

Simply bolted to this screen,

Of larger term perspex disbelief.

With worshipful lords and

Forgetful protection.

Where the shiny perspex

Thrives, and survives.

Before The End.

Me & the dogs have had a cracking walk this morning, even if only if one of the regular places. There's this wood near where we live, which makes for a steady circuit, and to my mind is a small slice of heaven. The main walks lead you into what is more or less a "natural cathedral" and when you add constant bird-song, and the sound of the river into the mix, the play of the light through the empty, or as now, full trees you can't help but feel you are really somewhere special......

Instead of doing the usual circuit, we crossed the river, and went down-hill back towards the village, and then, uphill to the top southern edge of the wood....

There are signs of old roads, old paths, from pre-reservoir days, when there were cottages, and at least two mills, producing woollen cloths to a global market.....Now under a century or so's worth of leaves, and rotted leaf-litter....

But the signs are still there... as well as a bees' nest, a hole, maybe red, maybe B&W...hard to tell.....and some Highland cattle, who, could if they want, wander down into the rest of the world, as they are not remotely fenced in, it's just that the terrain is a bit problematic, and they've got a field with plenty of greenery to keep them from even being tempted....

Baby Dragon

Freezing rain, modest windy late night,

A dark shape on the edge of the lawn of my life,

A baby dragon?

Here, at the end this dark evening,

Hunting perhaps?

Dragons always find what they seek,

Like black dogs that way...

Hiding in the shadows, my stare still caught,

No words necessary now,

Eyes, what ancient lawn memory,

My transparent animal morality, glassy,

Portal to the sunny shores of my inner reason,

Cloudy in the dragon's casual glance.

No fear, or threat, just a taste in music,

And cheap wines, smokey insight,

|And piffs of steam on this rainy night,

From unbalanced scales and this crowded lawn,

I look skywards, anxious for freezing news,

Mother love, moral glass and ancient.

But you simply slowly silently smoothly,

Turn, and unfurl impractical leatherette wings,

And, hardly wordless, yet silent, steaming subtly,

Churn the night airs around us, smoking,

Freezing, modest, fearless, yet lovingly,

Shake off the lawn, this garden, this earth,

And I know I'll see you again in the moon.

Total change of tack.....

Beer Surfing.

Just what are your afraid of

Tonight, bar-spider ?

The room is colour and sound,

Many faced, many vague memories.

As your brain glides precariously round,

Moments pass as you try to seize

That hook on reality.

The pulse is hard and slow,

Doesn't know which way to go,

As you spin to catch your brain up,

As you slightly stagger.

Warm noises as you try to hear

Lose yourself in that hit of beer,

Try to fight back the fear,

Surrender to the easy chair.

Then "The Rush".

Don't fear the rush,

Let yourself flow,

Just go and flow and ride

The mental surf created thus,

Try not to fall from off the floor,

Let blood pump as you need more.

The wave in your head crashes

On the numb beach.

And then the lights slip into irrelevancy,

And you soak up the heat.

Forget the in-built fear

Tonight, bar-spider,

Arms and legs all over,

So shy until he's drunk,

And gone.

As I said above...a slice of heaven...... Pretty much EVERYONE takes this for granted........when it's better than anything man-made.........No minsters, no abbeys, no anything, other than nature.........

Without comment! Well, I could but it might be misinterpreted by by you lot......I love Laburnums........


Oh, and the "cat-fight"....

I know both of the "ladies" involved, so won't pass judgement.....but if you've just been on a thousands and thousands of pounds kind of holiday, it's probably better not to brag about it to the mother of one of your tenants, whose daughter lives in one of the shittiest mouldiest, and dampest flats going....because, like, that wasn't going to end well really was it?? Especially when you've denied all responsibility for the whole thing.......Really?




It didn't make the evening's ambience especially nice, but hey, it's a proper "local" pub, so pretty much anything goes....is that "democracy" too? I like to think so!