Tuesday, 11 August 2009


Ethereal air waves haunted
And richer with disease than a season spent
In a jungle tent without nets;
Infected with invective and suspect opinion,
And littered with the spittle
Of fascists failing to grasp the actual.

A mine field of whining types
And the greedy who don’t even hold bowls
Anymore but reach for ingredients;
Scratching and clawing and scoring despite
The slew of sources advising
Against the selfishness of such actions.

But in the middle of a nightmare
Spent trying to repair an electric mechanism
There you were, a solid horizon sight;
A tango of sanity amidst the dances of the
Mad and fashioned in sashes
Of fleeting need and soothing moods.

Boat rowed on your birthday whilst
Taming a windlass to turn the world for you
As you rifle off a rod full ashore;
Stopping to pop into my life once again just
When I thought the world was full
Of the interminably dull, and void of sense.

Scratching the clarity of surfaces
Can help determine their worth, but in the
Face of your presence why bother;
A man can do some damage if he’s handled
Incorrectly, and you understand
This but still you have arrived to molest me.

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