I thought upon your name
as the warm Sinatra rain
sang onto rooftops
this grey September day
and from beyond the tears
I’d collected through the years
I drew a crooked smile
that I know won’t go away
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song
First Two Verses of a song possibly for Leonard Cohen
I awake from a dream
in a mystic motel
filled with poets
and prophets
all down at heel
who pass round
the Thunderbird
as free
as their philosophy
and it all tastes
like stale cigarettes
in the morning
that breaks
on the hills
of Hollywoodland
and they all headed
west just like me
to find celebrity
Lines written whilst listening to old Tin Pan Alley songs
ten thousand days shall I love thee
and quite the measure more
countless will the hours be
that have you in my thoughts
though the sands of time may drift
and life erodes the shore
my heart will shine like Pharos
ten thousand nights and more
Unfinished Ode
My lover’s lips
they speak so warm
the promised kiss
wherein is born
the ecstasy
I long have sought
and sweet release
of passions wrought
eggshell blues
there are eggshells in my head
which each and every day
I choose to walk upon
in the hope their sky blue skins
will fracture
and in doing so
allow the thoughts contained within
to take wing and fly to you
partial song for Sunday
singing out loud
what I’m thinking today
as the sun rolls by
sitting in a deckchair
dreaming, yeah yeah
just dreaming
no thoughts screaming
’cause
I’m setting them free
as soon as they’re born
by singing out loud
what’s in my head today
forcing rhymes in notes for a silly love song
preserve this heart in amber
so a million years from today
the world will know for certain
that I loved you this way
a lost verse to a song by one of those Gallagher chaps
I saw you shamble down the road
a little like a common toad
your head was up your arse
you looked so mean
you spoke about your masterplan
for getting even with “the man”
an angrier little guy
I’d never seen.
embryonic song notes on the nightstand
before I was me
I’d sing the songs
that I wanted to be
but that was my springtime
that was before
now I don’t sing
those songs anymore
Plastic Paddy
I’m eating Irish cheddar
for Saint Patrick’s Day
all washed down
with lots of Irish Beer
I’ll be singing protest songs
all the evening long
though no one I know’s
been Irish for some years
