Yippee Calloo Callay!

You have reached the foot hill of the mountains.
You are most welcome
More than worthy

Thursday, 26 May 2011

Mother Earth.

Mother Earth

Soft as wood
wild as star
memories floating
faces lined with scars
lions roaring
in the night
spiders whispering stories
to the fires
lights flying
up to the burning eyes
armies of ice
one bright knight
from heaven
flashes by
as you
drowning on the beach
wait to die
for the tide
the falling
grains in the hour glass sea
hushed souls baited for the kiss of death
the bright star
hayleys comet seen from the castle rocks
jacob sleeps as the night draws in
dreaming visions of your grand father
whos message as you wait
lieing face up head getting wet
wrapped up in brown string
with space time and the crescent
waves echoing as you breathe
golden grains of sand the
flying sunlight dust dancing
melting dreams into the sky
waiting to close your eyes
and rest at peace
with the crimson tide
there at your heart beat
like a sword
fast ice and sharp
is the elders voice
not yet my child
bright star from heaven
not yet
swim moon and sun swim
it is not yet your turn
to come back to life

Falling Sand.

Falling Sand

We are free we are one
we can fly
into the sea
from our beach to the land we will sail thorugh are dreams
you can see now believe
space and time is all you need
from the north to the south
through all the gypsy sweets
we are free
we can sink
step as one into the flow
you can steal you can eat with your teeth sunk in the wind
can you be just believe
when you leave them all alone
with the trees with the trees
that have no need for golden thrones
start believing start beliveing
let the wave ride through the storm
with the might of all us breathing
with the power of our song
we so free we can be singing
nightmares into dreams
turning handles
sewing stitches
painting pictures with our feet
from the rooftops to the gardens
giant rivers moving leafs

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Slippy Day Dream.

Slippy Day Dream

The blue rabbit ran through the sky
listening to the dreams of clouds
that passed by in threes
like giant white fluffy busses

in the street sparky tuber ring
realised that he didnt want to leave
and the feeling began to unsettle him

squirrels on the run with ice and guns
talking to the sun, talking to the sun
day is dreaming just begun
squirrels on the run squirrels on the run
ice picking head pins needles drum
squirrels in the gun
squirrels in the gun

sparky spent last night sleeping
underneath the lamp post of the sun
tacking on the ice the ice with feeling
licking all the drips
dropping from the ceiling

take a mararajua
tack back two
chicken on heat
send chips for you
sitting in a day glow days wont crack
cant fold with four aces in your pack
took another beating
push on through
blocks keep sinking
till they bloom
little piece of life
for the squirrels brew
a pair of foxes sewing shoes
talking to the river
sky is walking
passing by
green grass flowers
puffin skips
glue to the fire spice
on playground lips
a double take
bath for free
silver owl feathers
circle streams
dancing in the puddle rings

hello tiger
what can you see
dancing the twist
at midsummers eve
the ghost lanterns
of the stripey jean
a boat sailing
from the spiders dreams
see them like clouds
floating in the sky
a night filled with spiders eyes

squirrels on the run
squirrels to the gun
squirrels on the beach
of the bitten sun

Friday, 13 May 2011

At The Twilight Arcade.

At The Twilight Arcade

The way you run
you run so free
takes me to the place where i want to be
where i cant sleep or speak my mind
i find your kind
yes i find your kind
whispers, on the back of my head
make me believe
every sads song dead
old songs
promising misery
theres no weight your going to be happy
just no wait going be happy
out of the dark
thats what you said
foxes voice in the park
jump steps
swimming parallel
lines blue then red
you knows theres more than one moment
cozz moments last
when whats done is done
the past is past
drowning candle ships in shadow masks
burning moons and sailing masts
your button pupils shining bright
spires rays dreaming sights
popping flickering stars of light
see pinball wizards make love skies
for electric city glows alive
carefree smiling bright so safe
with spinning jingle jangle man coins turning
back days from dusk
then dusks to day

Peace to the moon.

Peace to the moon

Theres a river running through that is true for you
theres a river running through that is truth from me

theres a river runnning through that is truth for you
theres a river running through that is true to me

take what you want its easy to see now
take what you want its easy to see

hell you look so good theres nothing to say now
you look so good theres nothing to say

what ever you want theres nothing to see here
whatever you want theres nothing to see

taking what you want its easy to be now
taking what you want its easy to be

giving something back its easy to see how
giving something back its easy to see

the gloves are off the show begins now
now the gloves are off the show begins

how many more at the factory
turning handles round
the needle spins

you love the dream when you got the disease
how you love the dream when you got diseased

all you want is what you can see now
all you want is what you can see

you take another taste of the dream
take another taste of disease
just a little taste
off the back of a spoon
such a little taste
a taste will do

Wednesday, 11 May 2011



You make me turn into a gypsy
and i let the silver gyps
shine in my mind
smiles for your eye
sister dont feel down
i aint going away
sister you wont fall down
its time to play
dirty dog layed out
in the halls of jericho
wolfs come scouting
oh please
aunt sally
make my day
the walls come tumbling down
your walls come tumbling tumbling down



Pool of wood
that gateway to time
walk beneath the rainbow
and the setting sun
through the portal
and open the door
to eternity

Where the empty chairs
wait for their king and queens
to finish dancing with the stars
and come back to rest on seats
backed with dragons, owls, key pirates
and beige words from shangrila

The game is played
in the wood
cuts and arches
boards & maze
the forest keeps
all alive
to the world
the seashells
rest with us
drink your glass

The corridor is long
and the floor creaks
a passage of time lasts - forever

In the twilight seasons change

The clock has stopped
the tea is set
where the candle doesnt burn
treasure is a music box
the wardrobe to japan
a vase of blue and white flowers
basks in the hearth
wind captured for the chimney
release the lid
let the storm begin
ghosts released
to sip at china white tea cups

Deaths magic
turns the cups into cards
the knave with two eyes winks
poison in a chalace
the one eyed jack
flicks the fires flames
bursting into a mirror
of the past



Even without in the lamp of the mirror a voice called, covered in treacle and tar, the shadows flicker soft like moths dancing beneath the stars. Little curtains whispered in the wind. Drawing back onto the old stone of the factory where years before Annie had turned the handle calm as moonlight. Greys first streaks ambled their way through Annies raven hair. Beneath drifting clouds she wandered, wondering if this year was to be her first. The curse of solomon swept like a storm in her royal blue amazon river veins. She the cats mother had spent a whole lifetime looking for that rabbit. The white twitch season, the hole that folded, wrapping her in a soft blanket so sweet, soothing in its balm, the warm fuzzy tingles of sleep, the distant powder from the mountains of moor, singing to the birds. Home, was this green ocean. The fields of emeralad jackets that taught Annie to strum the harp. Splashing notes spoke to the past, winks to Johnny Fa and little Miheal, the boy who with his rooster bested May Nab to become the next tinker king. Cold ice, the warmth of the violin melted, into the walls of the factory. The smallest viola to ever chance. Little hands, paws of work, spun the jute, wheels turned as is the cycle of the sun and moon, Dianea to Apollo, the bright waltz of the stars life to death, the wheel turns ever on.

In a cloth sack by the harbour where the trawler men left to hunt the whale, harsh months without dry land, scratchy breath and scrappy chins, if only i had found that rabbit, Annie thought, then remembered, the master of the candle, who had told her, whilst deftly flicking a coin across his knuckles, that the trick nowadays was to follow foxes, but you must be quick. Kubachi.

Fast, Annie crawled out of the cloth sack and struck up her pace, if she could move like a cloud she would have no need to wonder, as she just flew on by, above the rows of tennament houses, out to the country the surfing trees and waterfalls, where the ghosts shone, haunted pebbles and smooth plum stones. Some with faces like Marlon Brando and Steve McQueen.

Factory medicine, no complaints the sugar dreams of bowls and spoons and cups of pearl. Annie dripped into another world the sunken carpet at the bottom of the frog pond, a world filled with sound like blazing catherine wheels spinning whirls and pops that danced across her senses like the tingling taste buds of a tongue lapping all over a batteries acidic stinging metal. Here the glasses in front of her eyes turned from yellow to green back to yellow, the spyglass stirred up memories in her mind in the same way that picking corn in a field can make you recall long forgotten days.

Annie had forgoten where she put her teeth, and couldnt conjur up the boy who she had given her marbles too. Just to hold and keep safe, for a little while. Like nursing a piece of ash in the fire, teasing a splinter trapped beneath the skin, drawing symbols backward, to magic a pair of horses galloping faster than the rain fall, relentless the night was dark blue, only a few, slender whisps of cloud like crafty slips of stream...

The hammock floats in the window
a candle burns beside your pillow,
until at once spirits out and you dream
empty mouthed of losing
shiny marbles and boney teeth

Tuesday, 10 May 2011



Sing in the sun light day dream
im floating
without my body
nobody can say
im not home
easy playing
in the big city
this life is
all out there
sipping tea for two
sugar you are free
as the daydream
losing daisies
lazy chains
nobody can be lonely
with ice cream
try and enjoy
the day dream
and rest your
dont mind the drops or highs
your a girl
that makes
life so beautifull

Red Lights.

Red lights

This room breathes with me like no other has done before
the cheques square tiles on the floor
whos game is time
the stones awaken sleeping dreams
the air light
dances like poetry
wrapped in silver
underneath the column of stone
the sun goes round the window
blocks carved with majesty
a gift renewed
that lives at peace
a carpenter sings
with wood tonight
shadow puppets seek moon light butterflies
that peel away
from the beige rock walls
to lap in portals that grape the soil
leafs are everything
that ever spoke

Sail away from me
David coxhad
Susan tiller
walking into the pit of a submarine
i am wrapped in cabbage leafs
where ladies with white feather neck rumples
hold babes clothed in red
boobs slip out of dress
breathe in the fith season
that is here
hanging on the walls
gateways of marble wash across the grain
like shapes cut out of paper
triangles, circles, squares
drifting onto a table
then blown by a straw



The spring of the four
so many moons ago
lost frost
in the dream
winters tide
the avalanches
snap of falling snow
crystal shells
that break like dropping glass
the question unanswered
what happened that night
before we circled in the sky
love lost banished inside
a box
without a key
that cannot hide
in past times
that converse behind my eyes
warm the sun rises hot or cold
with life
pink blossoms fly
as i close my mind
and sit
with this tree
until the flakes
swarm a blanket
head to toe
with sleep
that covers me