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
verse
The Shady Tree
I sat under a shady tree
it behaved suspiciously
like it wanted to eat me
so I made my leave and said
I’ll climb into a bush instead
who nose?
my nose
I suppose
is an old man’s
nose
and grows
every year
as you see
but why do
you suppose
it is only
my nose
and not
other parts
of me?
and if
I suppose
that my nose
grows and grows
exponent-
-ially
do you suppose
there’ll be
only a nose
where most
of my face
used to be?
who knows?
Monsters
there are monsters
more pervasive
than those we find
lurking within
the darkest nightmares
those beasts which
with the blink of an eye
are gone
as the dawn
fashions them away
are but nothing
to the demons
that reign upon
our every conscious thought
One Minute Rhyme While Watching Some Bach (unfinished I think)
the lady on the harpsichord
looked a little mad
and the chap on the viola
seemed a bit too sad
but just behind the cello
stood a little fellow
who was nothing if not glad
because he caught by chance
the flautist’s glance
and she was known for being bad
this moon
this moon is for lovers
and madmen
a mirror
for that which burns within
them all
gravity pushes
and pulls
their fragile emotions
their broken thoughts
making madmen of lovers
and vice versa
the dreaded moggysaurus
supposedly a meteor
killed them off it’s said
but I’m sure I have
a dinosaur
underneath my bed
I doubt he is a big one
with sharp and pointy teeth
but still… it is
a dinosaur
beneath me when I sleep
he may not be green and scaly
with horns and claws and that
and maybe when
the light goes on
he looks just like a cat
but when the night surrounds me
and fills my mind with dread
I’m certain
there’s a dinosaur
asleep beneath my bed
the keys
the keys
he threw aside
they could rust
and crumble
to dust
for all he cared
he’d unlocked
his doors
forever
and hoped she’d call soon.
One Minute Rhyme Mark XIII
there are stormclouds over Dublin
like dreams edged out to sea
following winds to Liverpool
to where they’ll wait for me
there’s waves upon the Mersey
and in them live the notes
sung by poets long since drowned
under their ferry boats
wrecked on the banks of Woodside
below the priory stones
they’ll find my verses yellowing
beside my restless bones
Four Lines
I wrote us on a post it note
but then it blew away
so I carved us on a treetrunk
and now we’re here to stay
