1. dreams
so how are
your dreams
going ?
mine are always
utter nightmares
but good ones
a passion cold sweat
about them
they wake me up
keep me thinking
so how are
your dreams
going ?
mine are always
utter nightmares
but good ones
a passion cold sweat
about them
they wake me up
keep me thinking
and smoking
way into the night
and morning
about the plots
moves
and terrible acting.
like I was one of the
good guys
in Alias Smith
and Jones
the 70’s cowboys,
remember.
***
2. dead family and heroes
ok I’m dead
meeting old dead family
that takes about
two and a half hours.
after that I’ve got nothing to say.
next it’s hero meet.
I sense them getting bored before me
after all I am not their hero
and never changed a thing on earth
for the better
apart from the times I got drunk
and told living people exactly how I thought
about them perhaps.
so maybe I did change something on planet earth
but not in the big way of my heroes I am now meeting.
they all say the same thing
“oh
it just happened
I just wrote it
I just painted it
I just did it”
all of your heroes are bored after
five minutes of seeing you
and want to move on
in the blackness you find yourself
they can
forever
after they have gone
all you have left is yourself
and yourself for an
eternity
with idiots to talk to
like down/up here
up here
pretending everyone was
grown up like last
time
when you could not
make your mind up.
***
3. the capital L in my Lurve
I am something you forgot ever existed
I am the spider in your bath
I am the fly in your soup
I am the sadness you forgot you had
I am the fly on the wall
I am death speaking loudly
when you thought you had forgotten all about it
again
I am minus zero
when you thought it could not get any colder
I am climate change
when you thought there was none
I am the silent minority talking loudly
for a change
I am the great book you never read
the one that could have changed
how you look and feel about life
I am the age you would be if you were
not quite as old as George Clooney
I am the bloke on the bench with mental elf issues
you never ever notice
I am the problem part of the city you fear to tread
I am not that old and hooked on booze
taken to get away from
all those who are a little dead inside
I am the film that changed your life
I am the poem
that made you laugh
smile
cry
or just write another
one.
I am the capital F in Feeling
I am the capital T,s in Thought and Thinking
I am the capital W in Will power
I am the capital C in Co-operation
I am the capital T in Tenderness
I am the capital D in Deceased
I am the capital G in Grief
I am the capital S in Sorrow
I am not you
unless I loved you
big time
then I might be
and you would be
the capital L in our Love
4. loneliness
it’s
how
others
view
u
but maybe
not
how
u
view
your self.
Charles Bukowski
Joseph Beuys
Ferdinand Celine
Raymond Carver
craved
it
like
something
to
attain
be proud
of.
if u do truly feel it
remember
life
is
just
a
practise
for
death
and in death
we
will
only truly
find
it
forever
over many eons
that will go
on
like
a forever cheap
job
lunch
break
with the same sandwich’s.
so now really
is
the
only chance
we
get
to
practise
it
fine tune it
welcome it
praise it.
but then again
even the
co-operation
of
dancing
fools
can
be
welcome
if
u
r
at the
end of your
tether.
it might
even
give
u
something to laugh
about
even dancing fools
have
a
purpose.
and laughing can be better
then
money
sex
and
power
any
day.
be a holy
sinner.
find
laughter
in
true
desperation.
true
loneliness
is
just
another
word
for
being
human,
this strange
condition
we all seem to have,
but most
fuck up or get fucked up.
maybe this is
the
only
time
we
ever
get
to
be
truly
alone
and
it
can
be
wonderful.
no questions
no having to explain
no small talk.
just u
the 4 walls
and a
desperation
it will never
change,
as
if.
just one lousy
bum
being
the
only
lousy
bum
he/she
can
be.
shit !
even
lousy bums have a purpose
but
I still need to
find
mine ?
or maybe I have?
thinking is a lost
art.
but I am all for it
without the
bull.
***
6. sleeping digger man
passing by a
building site
walls half built
rubble strewn
empty of people.
midday sun yawning
air crisp
full of salt
and yesterday’s vinegar.
noticed
in this abandoned landscape
enormous man with beard.
eyes tightly shut
asleep
a picture of serenity in a
tiny mechanical digger
whose cabin was
too small for him
as though
everyone had left
having been unable
to prise him out
and decided to
leave him
be
sleeping.
passing him again
later
he was still as asleep
as anyone ever can be.
but there was a headless
shoulderless
human half figure
peering into a concrete tunnel
that lay upturned on the ground
next to digger man.
maybe he had lost something?
maybe he was looking for answers
or a way out
or even a way out for digger man?
the headless man
and the trapped
sleeping
giant.
something that should
make anyone
smile
for free.
***
7. trebor mints in gravy man
in the library looking
at poetry books at the back
saw a book of Samuel Becket poems
so was flicking through it
did not know he wrote poetry
TREBOR MINTS IN HOT GRAVY JUICE NIGEL!
TREBOR MINTS IN HOT GRAVY JUICE NIGEL!
TREBOR MINTS IN HOT GRAVY JUICE NIGEL!
I looked behind me and the black balding guy
that normally stands outside
the charity shop in Byker
trying to sell charity badges
was sitting at a table
flicking through some magazines nervously.
It was him I’d heard
never realized he suffered from tourette’s.
then a lady teacher that has been to the poetry
group I attend
turned up with a man
we say halo and she introduces me
I tell her I have a
proper poetry book coming out here and America
ARSEHOLE!
ARSEHOLE!
ARSEHOLE!
so your genius will be known
she says
TWITTY TWATTY NIT NIT
TWITTY TWATTY NIT NIT
TWITTY TWATTY NIT NIT
but not in a funny ha ha way
in a kindly way
SODDING BUNT
SODDING BUNT
SODDING BUNT
the lady’s friend says
he had been trying to read Ulysses
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
but had great difficulty with the constant interruptions
and smiled and I smiled back
WHAY DON’T YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!
JESUS!
I CANT THINK OVER HERE!
YOUR DRIVING ME DARN CRAZY!
someone near hollers to the
black guy from the back tables
FECK YOU AND YOUR MONKEY NUTS!
WHY DON’T YOU SHUT THE FECK UP!
NO I WONT FECKING SHUT UP!
YOU FECKING SHUT UP MONKEY NUTS!
the black guy hollers back
holding his ground
whilst twitching his head and body involuntarily
we try and stop ourselves laughing out loud
and I think this is probably the
most difficult place for a tourette’s sufferer
to have an attack
so he must be very brave
to even try and do it
like everyone else can
easily
and which they take for granted
the ability for them to do it
without getting shouted at for
turning the air blue or shouting
out non sensical words
that make you wonder why they chose those words
that made you bellyache with laughter inside
just when you needed it
and made life funny and interesting again and
worth
all the boring bull
we have to go through
day in and out like we were all
just
automatons
that didn’t suffer from tourette’s
and swear
and shout
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
loudly in an almost extinct library
I could not take out the Beckett book
I owe them to much
and not just for
this
poem.
way into the night
and morning
about the plots
moves
and terrible acting.
like I was one of the
good guys
in Alias Smith
and Jones
the 70’s cowboys,
remember.
***
2. dead family and heroes
ok I’m dead
meeting old dead family
that takes about
two and a half hours.
after that I’ve got nothing to say.
next it’s hero meet.
I sense them getting bored before me
after all I am not their hero
and never changed a thing on earth
for the better
apart from the times I got drunk
and told living people exactly how I thought
about them perhaps.
so maybe I did change something on planet earth
but not in the big way of my heroes I am now meeting.
they all say the same thing
“oh
it just happened
I just wrote it
I just painted it
I just did it”
all of your heroes are bored after
five minutes of seeing you
and want to move on
in the blackness you find yourself
they can
forever
after they have gone
all you have left is yourself
and yourself for an
eternity
with idiots to talk to
like down/up here
up here
pretending everyone was
grown up like last
time
when you could not
make your mind up.
***
3. the capital L in my Lurve
I am something you forgot ever existed
I am the spider in your bath
I am the fly in your soup
I am the sadness you forgot you had
I am the fly on the wall
I am death speaking loudly
when you thought you had forgotten all about it
again
I am minus zero
when you thought it could not get any colder
I am climate change
when you thought there was none
I am the silent minority talking loudly
for a change
I am the great book you never read
the one that could have changed
how you look and feel about life
I am the age you would be if you were
not quite as old as George Clooney
I am the bloke on the bench with mental elf issues
you never ever notice
I am the problem part of the city you fear to tread
I am not that old and hooked on booze
taken to get away from
all those who are a little dead inside
I am the film that changed your life
I am the poem
that made you laugh
smile
cry
or just write another
one.
I am the capital F in Feeling
I am the capital T,s in Thought and Thinking
I am the capital W in Will power
I am the capital C in Co-operation
I am the capital T in Tenderness
I am the capital D in Deceased
I am the capital G in Grief
I am the capital S in Sorrow
I am not you
unless I loved you
big time
then I might be
and you would be
the capital L in our Love
4. loneliness
it’s
how
others
view
u
but maybe
not
how
u
view
your self.
Charles Bukowski
Joseph Beuys
Ferdinand Celine
Raymond Carver
craved
it
like
something
to
attain
be proud
of.
if u do truly feel it
remember
life
is
just
a
practise
for
death
and in death
we
will
only truly
find
it
forever
over many eons
that will go
on
like
a forever cheap
job
lunch
break
with the same sandwich’s.
so now really
is
the
only chance
we
get
to
practise
it
fine tune it
welcome it
praise it.
but then again
even the
co-operation
of
dancing
fools
can
be
welcome
if
u
r
at the
end of your
tether.
it might
even
give
u
something to laugh
about
even dancing fools
have
a
purpose.
and laughing can be better
then
money
sex
and
power
any
day.
be a holy
sinner.
find
laughter
in
true
desperation.
true
loneliness
is
just
another
word
for
being
human,
this strange
condition
we all seem to have,
but most
fuck up or get fucked up.
maybe this is
the
only
time
we
ever
get
to
be
truly
alone
and
it
can
be
wonderful.
no questions
no having to explain
no small talk.
just u
the 4 walls
and a
desperation
it will never
change,
as
if.
just one lousy
bum
being
the
only
lousy
bum
he/she
can
be.
shit !
even
lousy bums have a purpose
but
I still need to
find
mine ?
or maybe I have?
thinking is a lost
art.
but I am all for it
without the
bull.
***
6. sleeping digger man
passing by a
building site
walls half built
rubble strewn
empty of people.
midday sun yawning
air crisp
full of salt
and yesterday’s vinegar.
noticed
in this abandoned landscape
enormous man with beard.
eyes tightly shut
asleep
a picture of serenity in a
tiny mechanical digger
whose cabin was
too small for him
as though
everyone had left
having been unable
to prise him out
and decided to
leave him
be
sleeping.
passing him again
later
he was still as asleep
as anyone ever can be.
but there was a headless
shoulderless
human half figure
peering into a concrete tunnel
that lay upturned on the ground
next to digger man.
maybe he had lost something?
maybe he was looking for answers
or a way out
or even a way out for digger man?
the headless man
and the trapped
sleeping
giant.
something that should
make anyone
smile
for free.
***
7. trebor mints in gravy man
in the library looking
at poetry books at the back
saw a book of Samuel Becket poems
so was flicking through it
did not know he wrote poetry
TREBOR MINTS IN HOT GRAVY JUICE NIGEL!
TREBOR MINTS IN HOT GRAVY JUICE NIGEL!
TREBOR MINTS IN HOT GRAVY JUICE NIGEL!
I looked behind me and the black balding guy
that normally stands outside
the charity shop in Byker
trying to sell charity badges
was sitting at a table
flicking through some magazines nervously.
It was him I’d heard
never realized he suffered from tourette’s.
then a lady teacher that has been to the poetry
group I attend
turned up with a man
we say halo and she introduces me
I tell her I have a
proper poetry book coming out here and America
ARSEHOLE!
ARSEHOLE!
ARSEHOLE!
so your genius will be known
she says
TWITTY TWATTY NIT NIT
TWITTY TWATTY NIT NIT
TWITTY TWATTY NIT NIT
but not in a funny ha ha way
in a kindly way
SODDING BUNT
SODDING BUNT
SODDING BUNT
the lady’s friend says
he had been trying to read Ulysses
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
but had great difficulty with the constant interruptions
and smiled and I smiled back
WHAY DON’T YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!
JESUS!
I CANT THINK OVER HERE!
YOUR DRIVING ME DARN CRAZY!
someone near hollers to the
black guy from the back tables
FECK YOU AND YOUR MONKEY NUTS!
WHY DON’T YOU SHUT THE FECK UP!
NO I WONT FECKING SHUT UP!
YOU FECKING SHUT UP MONKEY NUTS!
the black guy hollers back
holding his ground
whilst twitching his head and body involuntarily
we try and stop ourselves laughing out loud
and I think this is probably the
most difficult place for a tourette’s sufferer
to have an attack
so he must be very brave
to even try and do it
like everyone else can
easily
and which they take for granted
the ability for them to do it
without getting shouted at for
turning the air blue or shouting
out non sensical words
that make you wonder why they chose those words
that made you bellyache with laughter inside
just when you needed it
and made life funny and interesting again and
worth
all the boring bull
we have to go through
day in and out like we were all
just
automatons
that didn’t suffer from tourette’s
and swear
and shout
I CAN SMELL HOT PUSSY!
loudly in an almost extinct library
I could not take out the Beckett book
I owe them to much
and not just for
this
poem.
