Read Breast Fed by Telephone Page 2

  It won’t take long

  Before you spew that black disgust

  In torrents down the loo.

   

  Now relax again

  Oh what elation

  You may now wonder why you never tried the wonder

  Of tobacco chunda.

  Crow

  You can’t trust a crow

  They laughed at me freezing in the snow.

   

  Boots all frosted

  Wet and sodden

  Fingers and toes

  Iced to the bone.

   

  Laugh crow laugh

  You wouldn’t help me if I fell

  Frozen in the snow.

  Even if you could you wouldn’t

  You’re a crow.

   

  A shiny black hearted crow

  Who looks good in the snow

  Who flies with the wind

  And laughs

  At those below.

   

  You can’t trust a crow

  You know.

  Fat Cats

  If you feed the birds

  You feed the rats

   

  If you feed the rats

  The cat gets fat

   

  There are no words

  To stop a cat

  From getting rather fat.

   

  And soon the cat

  Becomes a rat

   

  And eats your food

   

  That’s rude !

   

  So you take a loan

  To save your home

  From being eaten by the rat.

  But

  The rat is smart

  Without a heart

  And puts you on the street.

   

  You get divorced

  The kids flunk school

  You go insane

  And down the drain

   

  Wishing you had fed a mule

  And not a bird

  Who fed a rat

  That made the greedy cat get fat.

  Fishy Business

  Tomorrow never knows a fish

  As it might end up

  A kitchen dish.

   

  They partied hard last night

  These fish,

  Kept me up until first light

  ‘Get the good times in’

  They said

  ‘Make a noise

  And have a fight.’

   

  Let them play

  I say

  It’s not for us

  To stop them

  Being gay.

   

  But this morning the pond is still

  Not a sight

  Of last night’s fight.

   

  They’ve bottomed out

  Refuse to show

  Lying low

  Pretending

  They are fish.

  The Zero King Goes Fishing

  A lonely girl on heat

  Went fishing on the beach

  To catch a loving fish

  Who seemed somewhat out of reach.

   

  She cast her line far and deep

  Baited good with scent so fine

  That even Zeus

  Would not to resist,

  So what chance was there for a simple loving fish?

  Lured and caught and now lying on a beach

  Under a spell by the Zero King’s feet.

   

  She took him home for tea

  But couldn’t knock him on the head.

   

  Hungry, she took him up to bed

  The Wasp Keeper

  Blackberries and wasps

  On a hot summer’s day.

   

  Finger stinging good

  If you get in their way.

   

  Sweet juicy goo

  Drunk as a skunk

  Or a wasp in this case.

   

  I once kept them as pets

  Fourteen nests at once.

   

  Here’s the art:

  Cut the nest out and place gently in a box

  Come back at midnight and your catch will be home

  Seal the lid in one quick swoop

  Take them home and leave until anger has turned to exhaustion.

   

  Maybe at nine the next morning

  Make a gentle hole

  And pour in some honey

  As they fly out

  They’re no longer angry

  And soon work out their new home without need of compass or map.

   

  But if you open the box the night before

  They are fury itself and are soon lost and gone

  To lament and perish before stinging the neighbour’s dog.

   

  They never stung me once,

  I could even open the boxes and have a good look

   

  That’s a true story by the way.

  Neverland

  Though perils

  Wait

  And often lay

  Hidden deep

  In Biscay Bay

   

  The words of poems

  Find their way

   

  Across an ocean

  Of furious spray

  Where white caps break

  All night and day

   

  Until

  The words

  Are cast ashore,

   

  A journey’s end

  They travel no more.

   

  And here they lay

  In Florida Bay

  A helping hand

  Called

  Neverland.

  Chapter 5: The Light of Being

  Emptiness

  Have you ever heard the sound of rain

  On a raven’s wing

  Or an echo fade to silence

  Like ripples coming onto shore.

   

  And when it’s gone and there seems no more

  It’s that empty space

  I move,

  One thousand fibres shaking

  Vibrating

  Coming back to shore.

  The Girl Who Wouldn’t Be

  Wisps of mist

  Transparent shadows

  Vaporising.

   

  And as I try to grasp at what

  Or who you are

  You turn

  And go back and out to sea

  Less you manifest

  And quiver

  In the sunshine

  Of a bright and brand new

  Endless

  Burning day.

  The River

  The future doesn’t wait

  It just arrives

  Like an endless river

  Flowing through a storm.

   

  It doesn’t ask

  And it doesn’t care

  So whatever you do

  You’d better beware

  Coz

  Nothing stands still

  And nothing is real,

  Just fragments of dreaming

  Is

  All that you are.

  Chapel Bank

  In the vast corn coloured plain

  Sits a hill,

  A tiny bump

  That only ancient locals or gifted travellers

  May ever come to know.

   

  And on this spot

  A faded yellow grave stone

  Hides in shade

  Under sprawling maple

  Whose roots feed deep

  On times so very long ago.

   

  You can see the whole world from here,

  360 degrees

  Of uninterrupted views.

   

  So you go there

  And be

  Amazed.
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  A Rainbow’s End

  The shimmer of a rainbow

  going into ground.

   

  I move towards this apparition

  that science claims we can never meet.

   

  But, I did

   

  And stepped right in

  a giant soap bubble of multi coloured hues

   

  It’s true for me

  But true may never be for you.

  Chapter 6: Words

  Words

  If words were birds

  They’d be

  Ravens’ claws

   

  Shredding

  Hard won

  Sensibilities.

   

  You can stomp your feet

  Have a total hissy fit,

   

  How dare you

  Write such dross.

   

  You’ve pierced our hearts

  Upset

  Our fine tuned

  Apple carts.

   

  I hear you clear

  Precious dear

   

  But words are words

  Not big black scary birds.

   

  So to use some favourite phrase of mine

  Out of time

  But I like the line:

   

  Go and sling your hook

  And take another nosey look.

  To Lets or not to Let’s

  Kidnapped by pirates

  Long ago on a wild Saragossa sea,

  Chained and Shackled

  And thrown in a smelly Hold

   

  We pleaded for our lives:

   

  “Oh please kidnappers - Let us go”

   

  But they just cruelly laughed.

   

  So we tried again

   

  “Oh please kidnappers – Let’s go”

   

  “Go where?”

  Was the baffled response.

   

  “Anywhere but here”

   

  “We’re sorry but you can’t go anywhere

  Not with that damned stupid Apostrophe”

   

  “Oh.”

   

  So we removed that damned Apostrophe and used it as a key.

  With the shackles gone and us ready to roll

  We said:

   

  “Lets go guys”

   

  And they said:

   

  “Sure – you fancy some Kentucky Fry?”

  The Broken Perfect

  My headset’s broke.

   

  That’s not perfect

  But it should be so.

  It’s simple past

  But no one knows.

   

  I’m in America

  My tongue’s gone slow.

  Eat a sandwich

  And let the tense lie low.

   

  My headset has broken

  This tense has woken.

  But being perfect

  Sure aint worth it.

  Poetry

  I’m not a poet

  Just don’t have

  That sentiment.

   

  I’m

  A word assembler

  Who understands

  Our common

  Shared perception.

   

  Build the prose

  onto the page

  To often

  Find rejection.

  Dear Sly

  Smile as you cheat and you lie

  To get what you can.

  A bit like your brother Cunning who’s always

  running some kind of scheme or clever plan.

  And here’s Crafty

  Distant cousin of these ruthless brothers above.

  Crafty might even fall in love

  Might even smile

  With his crafty whiles,

  While his old chum

  Who’s friends with your Mum

  And everyone else’s Mum

  Is called Wily,

  Who thinks on his feet

  Learnt on the street

  But won’t talk to Devious

  Who’s more than mischievous

  And not such a genius

  And bit of a brute

  Unlike Astute

  Who is sharp and aware,

  A bit like Wily,

  But Wily likes to dare.

  Jade

  Latin lips

  Linguistic kiss

  Twisted tongue

  That’s never missed.

   

  A magic spell

  Speaks me well

  Horrible verbs

  Turn to friendly words.

   

  My ABC

  Starts to list

  Let English vanish

  As you teach me Spanish.

  Pandora’s Chocolate Box

  Oooh the Temptation of a Belgium chocolate box

  It Tempts me every day

  Through the window on my way to work.

   

  And then one day the door is open

  That Tantalising smell so gorgeous

  Makes me drool, and shake and shiver to my bones.

  I’m hooked and Lured and utterly Seduced as I walk on in and take a bite

  Of its irresistible delights.

   

  You Tempt me

  Tantalise me with your smell

  Make me drool, and shake and shiver to my bones.

  It’s no good

  I’m hooked and Lured and utterly Seduced as I take a bite

  Of your irresistible delights.

   

  Can I have some more ?

  The Light of Being

  There’s a Glimmer of hope out there.

  You can just see it, faint but there

  Like a ship far out on the night’s horizon.

  It doesn’t Dazzle like a car’s bright headlights

  Or Dazzle like a beauty would,

  It just Glimmers like dying embers in the fire

  Alive with hope to burn again.

   

  And on that night time seascape

  The moon reflects the movement of the waves,

  That’s Shimmering, but it could be day

  With the sun reflecting and vibrating on anything that moves,

  Like leaves Shimmering in the breeze and midday sunshine

  Or hazy shadows dancing in the wind

  Or that lustful Shimmer in your Gleaming eyes.

   

  And if they Gleam they are Shiny like new, catching the light

  For all to see.

  And

  Sometimes things Glint, a very quick sparkle of a Shiny thing,

  Or a mischievous Glint in someone’s look or eye,

  Or they Glow which is more than Glimmer but with warmth like a Glowing fire,

  Or a Glowing smile of satisfaction on your Dazzling face.

  And if something Sparkles, it’s bright and light like a fairy with a magic wand and Sparkling fairy dust.

  And if it Twinkles it’s like a star, a small Sparkle turning on and off.

  And if these words disappear

  The world is pitch black and as boring as hell !

  The Reader

  If you are here

  Inside this text

  I

  Shall

  Assume

  That you were fed

  The ABC

  To help express

  The Me Me Me

  Inside your head.

   

  With words in your ear

  What choice but be

  A thing called me.

   

  We’ve all been had !

  I hear you say

   

  Our drinks were laced

  From outer spac
e

  And the words are spells

  Confused as hell.

   

  We’ve been had!

  I hear you say.

   

  That’s right Old Boy

  And absolutely barking mad.

  Slippery Fish

  It’s Baffling trying to work out Baffle

  You’re stuck, can’t work it out at all

  You need some clever help to solve this puzzle.

   

  You could be Flummoxed

  Hit a brick wall

  A bit shocked and confused

  Don’t worry, it will pass in time.

   

  All that may be Perplexing

  Your intellect is a mess

  Keep trying, you’ll work it out in the end.

   

  If you find all the above Confusing

  Which is a general mind mess

  Where you really don’t know right from left

  Just cut yourself some slack,

  For

  No one else knows the difference between these words

  They are as Bewildered as you

  Scratching their heads

  Shrugging their shoulders

  Confounded by this group of dissidents

  Which might mean a bit angry, upset, confused and exacerbated all at the same time.

  Now go sling your hook, have beer and send these words to oblivion !

  Chapter 7: General

  A Scottish Herd

  The relatives are out to lunch

  Barking mad if you ask me.

   

  They were made that way

  I hear you say

   

  Down in the hay

  The Catholic way.

   

  The relatives are out to lunch

   

  Hail to the Marys

  Away with the fairies.

   

  But don’t say a word

  For

  Mum’s the word

   

  To breed

  The herd

  Inside the herd.

  Hebridean

  Tiddy McCrackers and Barking Mad Haddock

  Live on their island zoo.

  Stuck out of the way

  In the surf and the spray

  It’s a very nice place to stay.

   

  They sleep in a cave

  Just under a wave

  And right where they lay

  Is an angry sting ray.

   

  They run wild and amok

  Along with their stock

  On black cows that bay

  They charge through the hay.

   

  This spins you no yarn

  It’s true to its charm

  There’s deer and a tarn

  So no need to mock

  But please shut the lock !

  One Last Bender

  Well, it was a bender perhaps, but short lived it seems.

   

  A weekend in re-hab

  Is merely the day after the bender before.

   

  Sounds as if you have very nearly finished

  With this stuff you call bender

   

  Because something else inside you

  Is now called a mender.

   

  And as the benders

  Get smaller

  And the menders get taller

   

  I dare you to leave your castle

  And the shadows

  That gnaw you.

  Surf’s Up

  Surf’s up

  So catch the wave

  There may not be another one

  For ten years

  Or more

  If ever.

   

  So catch the wave

  Or flounder in the water.

   

  And if you find yourself

  Splashing around

  Just waiting, waiting, waiting

  Swim to shore

  And find another beach

  To catch your wave

  To wonderland.

   

  When fortune shines

  Some people find

  A hundred waves on a hundred shores.

  While others wait

  And nothing comes

  At all.

   

  And as those who wait and wait and wait

  Missing out and lost to sea,

  What they haven’t seen

  Are the hundred waves