This Christmas Morn

 

On this Christmas morn 

I await,

As an innocent

But convicted

Condemned man awaits,

The sound of the drum 

Of the hangman. 

I await 

The strike of the clock,

The time to walk 

From my cell

To join my family

For lunch.

Parkstreet

Tap

 

When I think of her I could weep,

But I

Am an old

Broken

Garden

Tap,

With a correctly sized spanner

Attached

By a piece 

Of wire. 

Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

In The Morning

 

In the morning I was covered in tiny silver paw prints, as if a newly minted kitten had frolicked all over my dreams then fallen asleep beside me, breathing her warm shiny joy into my ear until her gentle tinkling woke me.

Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

The Politics Of Failure

Delivering a speech

In an empty town hall,

In an electorate

Of no one,

In a city of distraction,

In a nation of indifference.

The politics of failure,

Life.

Parkstreet

Blues, Not Art (lyrics)

 

(vocal)

It’s blues, not art, it’s just a song

It’s blues, not art.

It’s true that my heart feels like pain in the dark

But it’s blues, not art.

It’s just how I’m feeling

When my love’s coming down.

(spoken)

So I’m drinking in the bar where dreams go to die

Just looking for a woman to tell me some lies.

Oh lips and eyes and hips and thighs,

The song lives, beauty dies.

It’s just how I’m feeling 

When my love’s coming down.

Give me this day my daily bread,

Music is the stuff keeps jah love fed.

My doctor tells me I’m clinically dead,

‘Cos all the blood runs to my heart, none to my head.

It’s just how I’m feeling,

When my love’s coming down.

It’s blues, not art, it’s just a song

It’s blues, not art.

It’s true that my heart feels like pain in the dark

But it’s blues, not art.

It’s just how I’m feeling

When my love’s coming down.

Blues, Not Art is a minor key blues, played in a tangoish sort of style. 

Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

Daniel

 

When I pull on my shoes

I recall

A bit of a poem

Written by my friend

Daniel.

He said,

In his poem,

He was so happy

That he’d fall asleep 

Without checking the bed

For spiders,

For once.

Every day, 

As I check my shoes

For spiders,

I think of 

Daniel,

And 

Happy

Days.

Parkstreet

Ko-fi

Poetry Distillation

 

“I love you”,

She said

Sadly. 

Parkstreet