me~me as a meme me

 me~me as a meme me

silence deepens

like a well

thoughts take longer 

to recall 

their 

splash

ripples in space time

now there’s a deep thought

but one for another bucket list 

where does fog go when the sun comes up

it’s a mistery  mist  ery   get it?

the darwinian survival of a meme

against all the odds is

a burr under the saddle

of time riding this decay

rhyme me meme me me with me

and you might win an anagramy award

what

you didn’t order this pun

now what number table table did

the waiter waits 

for the waiter

come in number 6 your time is up

number 9 are you in trouble

my oh my is the meme now

if i did

if i did

a shingle thought

can i 

should i 

then

if i did

would i 

think

did i 

survive 

that 

is the question

if i do

prophet we not

 prophet we not

when the world ends

there will be a room somewhere

and a television will be replaying

a home goal over and over

the green will be the greenest green

that no one has ever seen

nations that have played the offside rule once too often 

have been shown the red card

as it was predicted 

so let it be

we are playing extra time

if you please

 if you please

and the words came

sent by the receivers

of the words that were omitted 

by the poets who left early

on crumpled fag packets they were written

the things that one had to act upon

even in a one act play

the glow can be rekindled

by an indrawn breath of a sigh

that may win my heart again

go on

please

on looking at a drawing of dylan in a boat

 on looking at a drawing of dylan in a boat

it is the whore language mind you

as restless as a sea of words fished

and netted and rope-landed this day

oh buoys lie you gentle in the estuarine

of a half glass’s spittled conversation 

in a corner of a corner turned down

around the fire of a town turned in

replete it is mind you 

that one

 that one

in these days of fire we need

one snowflake

one tide to turn

to run

a cloud to break 

one sunbeam to alight

the way it does

you know the feeling

long tunnels

on slow boats

locks cranking slowly

one sluice rinsing 

the rising levels of grief 

the black horse on the towpath 

to hell and back

where IS the way back

one storm 

from behind one cloud

one rush

of a moon’s veil

on eye to blink

one kiss to nape the neck

of one shrug 

to shoo it all away

you are that one

the fish bowled me a googly

 the fish bowled me a googly 

the fish said

then i said

then the other fish said 

then the fish said

the fish said

the cat’s pause

 the cat’s four pause

do  

    

       n’t  

ru  

      sh

on mind’s sea shore

 on mind’s sea shore

the shore rocks

only the limpets cling on

to my thoughts

seething bites

again and again

spittle in the sun’s eye

buys quicksilver

but no respite

statuesque 

time less than enough

more than one can carry

empty homes float

eyes tip toe

again no more

but one more

time

tenby harbour at dusk

 tenby harbour at dusk

it’s where the lights go

when the sun runs off west

and the moon calls inflegranté

they meander the love streets

to the bandstand or the quayside

wrapped in the raptness that love enfolds

the blues under the blues

boats over boats

bobbing bobbing

the lines tighten

tales are told

listen

a doggerel pisses against the tree of life

 a doggerel pisses against the tree of life

how the soil welcomes a leaf

loam from loam

the buds of spring are fed

falling and a rising

softly on the tread

of the season’s cycling

as the clock of lifetime’s chime

you are

it is

i am

i’m 

the end of the blues

the end of the blues

grey

sort of blue

babies are dying in front of me

and you

see the cynicism in me

and you

we sing the blues

rubble are the images tumbling

across our screens as we fail 

to screen it out the hue of our failure as

silent screams from soundless mouths

of ‘loved ones’ where love was bombed

and photobombed on our screens as we recall

we’ve seen it all before and we’ll see it all again

it’s as dumb as a sofa to hide behind when all

the sunshine of autumn fades for winter has come

and black and blue and me and you

in minds that are battered and bruised

babies now wrapped and shrouded white

hugged and kissed dumbfounded 

as the black precipice i feel this night

will bring no sunlit upland dawn to end it all

i fear it might be at last our fall for

the babies are dead and still i cannot cry

or switch it off or dial this station away

why is this an impertinence supreme 

that this nightmare it is not a dream

look ~ bloody well look at that baby dead

and scream and scream that

man is a brute and has always been like king canute

this flow of a sea of dead babies is almost obscene

cynicism has burst cynicism’s demean at

the dam of the dammed of you and me

has breached from the heart’s tsunami

that will drown us all

and you and me

our conscience flares but all too late it seems

for the babies are dead and blue and black

and i for one can see no way back

oh for fuck’s sake 

for fuck’s sake