A stranger to myself am I
a foreign land
forgotten era
the room I crouch in every day
is not a room in the usual way
extension of my mind at play
the little girl who plays next door
is really me myself, a whore
I spoke to her and now I’m sure
they want my memories on the bus
so I play cool, ignore the fuss
the pleading hands that speak of lust
I’ve caught the wind and crushed it down
to fit inside my dressing gown
sing out of tune just like a clown
the bitter memories scare my throat
my castle’s lost its pretty moat
heavy hearts don’t stay afloat
you yourself and him and they
and who are those that play away
here tomorrow, gone today
master craftsmen build it blind
for eyes that see get left behind
the chilling pack, the human kind
that wend upon their weary way
and have their misdirected say
me, the idiot out to play
with jagged mind and twisted grin
I show myself like coughed up phlegm
this of course, my Bethlehem
I reek of past, forgotten manger
born to be a total stranger
where to put my passive anger
no not here not anywhere
I kneel upon the ground in prayer
and simply stare


There is nobody here tonight
and the voices begin to play
Is one side wrong, another right
Out of the dimness comes the being FRIGHT
I back away, but why?
There is nobody here tonight
The being FRIGHT demands his Rights
The Rights of Man for the BEINGS BRIGHT
The BEINGS BRIGHT are here to stay
I back away
watch and wait for the face of the night
The solver sensual lady of light
who soothed the boy who lost his way
She shines her light too late in the day
I back away
There is nobody here tonight
The BEING FRIGHT holds sway
Inside his jaws two brains decay
Any brain today mistress I hear them say
One only master, its late in the day
There is nobody here tonight
You’d best be on your way
The voices were right


All I ask is that you forget me

don’t remember how we walked hand in hand
how we traced ‘I love yous’ in the sand
how we kissed and made love ‘neath the stars
good fortune was exclusively ours
how we sailed on a dreamboat of passion
how we trusted our hearts without question
how our quarrels would send us both reeling
but making up was such a good feeling
no, don’t remember how we got lost in the rain
how we rejoiced as we missed the last train
how friends swore that our love could not last
how they soon ate their words as time passed
for our story is reaching its ending
and no looking back and remembering
will bring back those stars and that rain
will let us once more not be on that train
and now you’re wondering why you ever met me

but all I ask is that you forget me


She slaps the icing
on the cake
it snows outside
whitewash the fences
she put up
only yesterday
to keep it out
the pretty poison
laughing berry
like a redhead
she screams
and thinks of food
mere breadcrumbs
for the wicked
all that’s evil
begins here with her
the kitchen table
is a place inside
her mind
the carving knife
sits waiting for a slice
of cerebrum
flavour for the
witch’s brew
dripping from the
outside of the cup
her lips apart
she sips slowly
upon her own blood
veins like straws
sustain her
until the end when
the oven beckons
and the cuckoo clock
marks the hour


I walked through the woods
on an in-between day
neither summer, nor autumn,
nor winter, nor spring
neither rainy, nor shiny,
nor windy, nor cloudy
neither sunny, nor stormy,
nor humid or breezy
and I talked to myself
on that in-between day
I wasn’t happy or sad
or angry or crazy
I wasn’t laughing or crying
or ranting or raving
I wasn’t brimming with envy
or joyous elation
nor holding back the tears
for some other occasion
I wasn’t hoping for a miracle
or wishing for the earth
I wasn’t praying for enlightenment
not even merriment or mirth
there was no dwelling on my sorrows
no love-sick feeling in my heart
no suicidal inclinations
no bad feelings on my part
not a soul had let me down
or pushed me close upon the edge
no passing flicker nor a frown
possessed my face, no sign of dread
my head was not screwed on completely
but I wasn’t off the wall
I trod neither heavily nor lightly
didn’t stoop nor stand up tall
I wasn’t thinking of the worst
I wasn’t grim, or grave, or grumpy
Didn’t see the cup as halfway full
nor mark it down as halfway empty
I wasn’t calm, cool and collected
but I didn’t seem stressed out
no-one had made me feel rejected
there was no-one else about
didn’t go out to look for trouble
wasn’t harbouring a grievance
I had an average set of marbles
and a nondescript appearance
that’s how I walked through the woods
on that in-between day
that’s how I swang from the great burnt oak
as my last breath slipped away.


Mark the book and mark my eyes
give me a lesson in goodbyes
I do love Shakespeare, make it so
I’m Juliet, you’re Romeo

Do you think of me behind closed doors
trace my lips as I do yours
or place me on the balcony
with you below adoring me

Oh teacher, teacher, teach me more
than works of English Literature
far from the madding crowd let’s run
away beneath the setting sun

No, it can never be he sighs
she’s but a child to legal eyes
mature in many ways it’s true
but much too young, too young for you

Alas he drives to school she’s there
across the road, tries not to stare
but it’s no use, her sweet plum breasts
cry payment full with interest

A see of faces in the class
reflecting like a looking glass
but only hers comes shining through
to light a place that once he knew

So many memories she evokes
of childhood days and childish hopes
he cannot, must not let her win
his world would end should he cave in

Late at night her essay sings
her words like albatross’s wings
soar through the whirlwind of desire
that vows to set his loins on fire

Now in class, the beast immense
he stutters, trembles, makes no sense
Oscar was it, Wordsworth, Wilde
In heaven’s name, she’s just a child

The morning bell, the push and shove
was that the look, the look of love
the cheeks that blush, the sweaty palms
Sir is heaven in your arms?

David sniggers, Jason knows
the gossip in the staff room grows
he’s crossed the line, he’s scaled the wall
of all that’s deemed acceptable