Trees. Simple.

 

Little Man

Its just the wrong type of stuff, is all,

Shoo, shoo, shoo enuff.

Hey, little man, d'ya wanna know something?

Its your mama you see,

I kinda have a bit of a thing,

I kinda wanna spend some time,

Y'know, like, getting to know things,

Like

Your mama.

Like what she likes,

What she is,

And could be,

I mean...

You don't really mind do you ?

Its not like the right stuff would help much,

And I'm not sure it wouldn't be warmer,

Or calmer,

Or, well, you know.

Its your mama you see,

She could be interesting some time,

A shoo in, or near to,

And sometimes little man,

That's enuff, shoo,

Shoo, shoo, shoo enuff,

Little man.

Little Liar

How can I get my shit together

When those whose frame I grew to

Have no frame now

Nothing is true

Nothing is true

Crowley had it with

"Everything forbidden is compulsory"

"Do what thou wilt

shall be the whole of the Law"

No conscience ? When you've always ?

Liar liar liar liar

Pants on fire.

Never forgot the horse switch

Broken plate glass lie, so small,

Against the hypocriticall.

 

Live.

Live inside this comic farce

With me and us and you,

Visit life, from time to time

We remember what to do.

 

Mindset.

As if you can ever have

The "Mindset" you had 3 years ago,

Thank god !

Keeping forward.

Sense of helpless innocent optimism,

Brought about by heavy misery.

Which now has matured

Into a meaner animal.

With less reason to be

Than ever, but somehow optimist,

Keeping forward.

New "Mindset" with strong tendencies,

To return, could be self-defeat,

Going back.

To innocent optimism,

With any bloody luck,

Heavy and strong, but mature tendencies.

As if you can ever have

3 meaner years

Thank god !

Less reason for heavy optimism.

There really is "something" about trees isn't there?

 

Peeling the seams

From legs of heaven

And arms

With cotton dressing

With silver skin below

With haste and eyes

Quite focused to the task

And hurry

To teeth, to tongues

To flesh valleys and

Respond sincere

Hard decisions, made haste

And last layers are at last revealed

And lust exploration

Painful signal defloration

Symbolised, and peeled

And then thought must leave

Betrayal by the naked

Animal now thrust and gaunt

And frenzied sincerity

Rushes blood, adrenaline, sex

Into the mental hours

And mental bruises

Physical Venus

With detaching splendour

And barmaid wonder

And the connected

The found

With sweet white definition

And dark intent

And the damp peeled seams

And knickers on the floor

And the hideous bed

Denying such admission

And finding splendid hurry

In heavenly valleys

Symbol of gaunt animal response

And sincerely naked

With haste and eyes

Betrayal of signal tongues

Sincere truth must now leave.

Stonesexy.

Her throat is dry and cracking

Voices mingle intimately in trance

Speech becomes irrelevant anyway.

And the time stretches again

Into pockets of endless thought.

Her tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth

Mingling with the slowness of it all,

Love becomes irrelevant in retrospect.

And your mind stretches out to nothing,

Into pockets of infinite moments.

The slow-mo lovemaking contains no fear

No love, but mingling with the sheet,

The irrelevant scent of oils.

And the high stretches to hours,

And pockets of senseless regrets.

Withdrawal.

Listening passively, and not hearing,

Switching off, and not seeing.

Sounds "cotton-woolled" and dull,

Only mulling inwardly,

Chewing the cud, of recent events.

But beware, not for nothing,

Do warning bells ring, and,

Buzzing lights speak out.

You leave a corner of your mind,

Monitoring at the slightest level.

In your own world, do you live ?

You must hear and be ware,

You cannot shut out all.

The phantom screams overhead,

Lifting...instantly muffling.

Oh, how quickly you withdraw,

Like an upturned winkle, or whelk.

You leave the warning bells,

In a corner of your mind.

Back to single figures.

Hash-tag "trees" maybe? Or "Poetry" or "Bollocks"

I dunno, let's run it as an experiment......

#trees

#poetry

#bollocks

#wayofseeing

Hmm, I doubt it'll make a scrap of difference.

That was February.

Already a 1/6th of the way to the next one.......