Yippee Calloo Callay!

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

Thursday, 31 January 2013



Salmon jumping in the water away from the sea driving me to images of you in my dreams we are still not near enough to be togethor seperate feathers on the pillow made of shiny shiny i get up and stand above the heads that rock as a voice in song lets the bullets from a shotgun wash away the scars on my back need to relax sit back in the arms of a dove that is warm fuzzy honey sugar baby runny runny trickles on my skin in the golden light where everything spins is the centre when the moon goes round in a circle were turning and turning into the chains of levels litter layer little layer little layer leves its easy when you sit in the middle stirring your finger with another in a puddle a jar full of liquid with a spoon and hey were blowing bubbles you ever wonder when you see one floating by on the day and think the colours of my team arnt right claret instead of blue and white like the blood of my veins its another tottenham sky just give up and play it outside spin spinner spin spin spin

Sunday, 27 January 2013

Natural reaction.

Natural reaction

just write inside or outside it doesnt matter
it all comes from your mind
in between the lines
are gaps for you to fill in 

chilling or burning on the hot thoughts
like hot rocks dropping
blood popping
in between the trestles on the vessels
little ships flying to the tips
of my gravity finger kissing blips slipping
and sliding backwards when
im walking sometimes why i dont know
maybe ive not drunk enough water
this light all of a sudden so bright
and everything around you comes to life
all colours shining so much brighter than the bright
emotions cart wheeling pure feeling
into motion no comotion can bring you down
such a sweet sound the town is awake
and when it sleeps it is a nest for you to believe in
keys and piano and drums and guitar
and when im asleep
i like to be a thief
that returns all the dreams
stolen by the rough hands of the mad queens magi
which is why when im in a shop of charity
i rub every  lantern wont stop trying to free the genie from the lamp
both of the ends of the candle i burning to relax
so we can melt again into
relaxing chemisty on the table dripping on the table
that turns like a fire on the forest without flood
no dove of peace
to bring me some blessed release
i need to begin again
didnt mean to sell my soul to a enemy
that i thought was my best friend
for a toke on a ciggerette
i need to wipe away
that shamefull past
so that my future from this present
will no longer dance scars
and monkeys all across my back
kicking me in the ribs
and shutting me with cloth
 a hard knot tied up at the top of a sack
that is slipping to the bottom of the sea
with my body in the middle
and im waiting to drown
sinking down in the wet sand
all over
game over
until i start again
i wonder with curiousity
am i a cat and is that another life
whos counting
passing by why
i always land back on my feet
dry sand between the toes feels sweet
in the sunlight or at night
just like sparkling grains of sugar
skipping on the tongue
behind your teeth
that likes to lick
and flick
like the surf
rolling on the crest of these green blue waves
full of lazers and lights
and the rotting bodies
of everyone thats died like a tear drop in the ocean
of earth

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

Cats Lock.

We all have scars

Fools cap blown like the grass straw of dogs written in the sand with numbers
more than i could see
feel or hear
dirty patterns of sky
kites dog wheeling
under villages
buried by the surf the sand the
hidden by the voice of truth
can you write in the dark?

I wanted to know what she meant
but i dont think i could
i dont even think i know what i mean
when i say that it is what it is anyway

The tips of my fingers like to dance over the clicks of squares and letters
surrounded by numbers symbols and bars
full of of half cut drinkers talking fat or skinny
or filling the gaps with liquid
beyond them is the dust of skin and dirt
and the occasional hair
a voodoo jackpot
waiting to be sucked up by human vacuums

the trousered men without feet or upper bodies
point in both directions
sideways victories
corned beef sandwiches and sailors climbing up lampposts
in love covered with bunting for Europe

On one hand i can write your my enemy on the other your my friend

Fill a room full of monkeys with keyboards and give them acid
Cynicism told me
the disgust on his face revealing more
leaving me with the feeling that id presented him with what i thought was
a piece of enjoyable cheese
but actually in his mouth turned into a lump of
why not fill your shoes with a load of crunched up glass
walk until your feet bleed
a light goes of in the factory
on the wall its written
words are only a letter away from becoming worlds
bridging the divide between fiction and reality
until the there is no gap between
the souls of the sand singing to our feet
Hush now sweet darling
wash away your weary scars

I can remember the diamonds in the car park
cubes of jade that spilled like dreams
over the dark space of tarmac
I can remember in our rush
and fever
that we both thought the same
unless you were pretending all along
that this was ours, our treasure,
a fortune laid bare for us to find
alone in the glittering sunshine
we swooped
down and scooped them up
let them spill over our hands and through the gaps between our fingers
threw them over our heads
down the alley behind your house and away
like we were in Aladdin's cave
swimming in a pool full of gold and silver
until our cheeks were cut
and our bleeding palms
were covered in sparkles
that caught the light as we let them candyfloss
through the air dancing streams like
rhinestones sewn into a moon walkers golf glove
and i know at some point our treasure
must have turned to pain
that you must have seen the cuts on my face
and i could see yours
the cut above your left eye and the little trickle
running from the gash in your cheek
I can remember feeling 
the stings on my fingers and palms
looking into my hands noticing how white they had become
which made the multitude of nicks and cuts show up stronger
as i extended my legs
some pieces of jade that had been pressed into my bare knees
fell, some remained
mixed with the dirt and blood on my skin making my kneecaps
a pair of dirty pretty ovals
for maybe a little too long we 
managed to half pretend the little cubes of jade were still our fortune
until Aladdin's cave vanished down on the tarmac
beside the car with a smashed window
at the back of the car park
and our treasure turned to broken glass.

She kept a baby cube of green like emerald
in a little box with hinges that like an island
split in two was closed more then when ever it was open
by her own hands
her used fingers dirt laced traced the scar where i had been cut
from her belly ripe and full
a drop of fat in the cream
those hands that gripped the sides
as she tore chunks off with her teeth
eating the block of cheese like it was the holy bible
late at night when she thought no one was looking
id find her sat looking up at the stars from the top step
outside the front door
with the little box open on her lap
and on a soft cushion that looked like it had been blessed
with the rub of the lips of queen mab and all the fairies
themselfs so much so that i wanted to walk into it
and be swallowed by its depths
that to me were the journey
to the city through the wetness of your eyes
into the oceans of sweet blood that harden
as heart shapes scabs on my knees
if id have known it
i would have called it mecca
mecca on a cushion blessed by fairies
it shone so
illuminating all around like emerald city
and her lips broke
sweet love of love
i thought what would
it be like to put a crumb of white bread there
soft in the middle of the red
a nurse for all the scratches of her bottom lip
if i was sleeping by the window
i dont know if they were meant for me
as her breath became a stroke upon the air
tracing a finger over her skin
imprisoned in the glass
before she closed the lid on the box
with the words
this and the scars on my legs
are all i have to remind me of your father