THE SHERWOOD FOREST HAMPER CLUB v.1

Robin Hood loves jingle bells
Friar Tuck hangs tinsel in the dell
Will Scarlett roasts a piece of ham
But again, theres no sodding pudding
From mr tight pants of Nottingham.

THE SHERWOOD FOREST HAMPER CLUB v.2

Robin Hood loves jingle bells
Friar Tuck hangs tinsel in the dell
Will Scarlett roasts a piece of ham
But again, theres no sodding pudding
From tight Scrooge of Nottingham.

CONFESSION

I am on the run
From the green man

Tonight I'll be on TV
They found my DNA

I'm good at heart
I'd like to make a
Fresh start
With Marion
And her two kids
Brooklyn and Ziggy

MAXIM NO.30

These are not times for poetry
These are times for Windows XP
And pure administration

BIRDMAN

Im a candidate for a nuthouse;
I write poetry and philosophy
Of various grades.

I let strangers through my front door
Welcome them all royally.

Im a candidate
For the asylum
I converse with dirty angels
Wearing overcoats of fire -
We speak in tongues

Even though I never clean my windows
I record the way throats yearn and
The ways light touches Earth.

ANGLES 1

I am introverted -
I am the circle inside
A square.

I don't do maths
But I want to be
An equalateral triangle
That manifests mind heart and will

But at the moment
My sides don't add up
Im a shaky scaffolding -
I don't lean towards Heaven.

SPLIT THE EARTH (Sunrise at Doves Nest)

Im sat inside this
Dome of time -
I am so cold.
I suspect my balaclava
Looks stupid

This moment arrives
I am essentially on my own

I wait, fermenting inside -

I wait for gold
To split my eyes open

All is primordial, unsculpted.
Yet gradually the upper branches
Of a pine give way to the Sun -
In confirmation a skylark sings to me.

TINSELTOWN

Let me roam, admire
Gold-silver packaging
A leak of rainbow

Let the rooms
Of this mansion
Catch my eyes with
Geometery

As old emotions rise
To roll like skeletal breakers
Over my heart
Let my eyes steal crystal -
Sparkling in the night.

****

A great party is
Drowned in our senses -
Fed by wires and information
Tinseltown hits you full on
Like the exhibition in an austere
Post-war shop...

I think back.

Its my first memory of xmas -
Dad can buy everything
Every light
Every thin
Magnificant strand of wire

And even though Winter is severe
And the roads are blocked,
Every mean cardboard
Has integral meaning.

THE SALESMAN

I am my own Job
My assessor, my
Own stealthy enigma

I am introspective

What is my contribution
In flesh, to the souls
Living in cardboard?

***

I spell the products -
Try and bring magic
To a desert of senses.

Children expect the best -

Kindness is a bird
I saw once in the distance, on TV -
Its wings touched the Sun.

NATIONAL NEEDS

For England, a higher quota of saints
For India, a good network of drains

---------

Click - and a divine idea is lit
Even as gunshot puts out the light

---------

HUMILITY AND PRIDE

The chicken pecked at his prayers and won
(Mr Eagle flying high got downed by a gun)

---------

LOOKING ON WITH LOVE

All those that look with love are
Observant, warm, constant -
Like the Sun they never blink.

LIGHT FEELING

I watch a plane
Tearing across
A perfect cobalt blue sky
Straight as a bolt

I see a bird
Open its heart and brave wings

I imagine
My body discarded
Like an old outworn coat

SOUND ADVICE

Im a noise merchant -
What would you like?
A cymbal, marimba
A drum with clout?

I provide rhythm
And pulse, reside
In a heaven of vibes

Im a noise merchant
I twiddle the knobs on
Monster tall speakers -
Feel their dark throbs

My throat is
Industrial piping
My notation
Stainless seel rivets

***

I launch music
From my small ship;
At night I mediate
On a lacework
Of drum and bass

I cremate your
Parlour room threads -
Twist this rope of sound
And use it as a whip

Yet if you arrive
And let out a sigh,
You should lie next to
An effeminate poet

Who rousing for a second,
Putting down his bottle,
Ejaculates passionate words
Over your nautical dress

ANGLES 2

Under glitterball
I'm mesmerised with
Measured Tango

Ninety degrees
Sixty, forty-five,
I stare into the
Crystal Palace
Of your eyes

On the stroke of twelve
I spin towards Heaven
Where I lose footwork -

All calculations

All I know

ANGLES 1

I am introverted -
I am the circle
Inside a square

I don't do maths
But I want to be
An equalateral triangle
Manifesting mind, heart, will.

But at the moment
My sides don't add up
I'm a shaky scaffolding
Leaning away from Heaven.