Lie In

Some people never buy in
To the idea of a lie in --
They consider it a sign of laziness;
The height of craziness.

But after a week of six O'clock starts
The enthusiasm departs
For seeing the clock with those numbers on it;
My comfortable bed I slumbers upon it.

I always have a late night before,
So getting up is always a chore:
Caffeine is the god I adore,
If I start to flag I can always drink more.

Set And Rise

Fiery sunset,
Source of earth bound life descends --
Sunk boat horizon.

eyewash

Messages, left dead,
Knew the real but distant truth
That cleanses the eyes.

Isis Orb

To point direction
Night rests in its milky sphere,
Smiling under cloak.

Genesis

Origin lies in
A cell's dream of division
That shall multiply.

Dance In Day

We dance in day now:
Take us presently into
Its warm matrix grip.

No. 9

Behind the eyes
Bottle in profusion drift,
We enter life blind.

Of

Of day's blood sunset,
Of childish nursery rhymes,
Of golden raindrops.

No. 8

They who sang to us
In machine gun utterings
End to now begin.

Stigmata

The Messiah bleeds,
We consume his truth in awe --
the scar does not heal.

Instinct

And instinct takes hold --
Migration licks the raw air,
A bird flies due South.

No. 5

We step through dyings
Into the blessed after,
Weighted by the truths.

Life Buoy

We who said there were
Comforts in the lie called life
Now sing au secour.

Tarot Fate

I .
The hung man rotates:
A wild spinning joker's card
Laughing tarot fate.

II .
Tarot knives of dream
Pierce the fleshy future
Bleeding it for facts.

La Deluge Au Coeur

We rain in new storms:
Thunder pulsing in fresh hearts,
La deluge au coeur.

No. 1

Dreams quickly turn as
Midnight's eye opens slowly
To digest morning.

A Life In My Uni-Verse

Today I start
To work my art
And draw you in
With words in rhyme
To tell of my time
In society's bin.

It's all to do with timing
And rhyming.
This shall be no post-modern exercise
Of free verse to astound your eyes
With smart structural acrobatics;
And here shall be truth with just a few dramatics.

Is it an interesting life or a boring one?
Like yours it's full of dull moments and fun.
My work life balance is just like yours
And I spend half my life indoors,
Sat under flickering tubular lights;
Only coming alive at nights.

An everyman
With a lifespan
And a life plan --
Neither of them working out;
Neither of them free from doubt.
I choose to write instead of shout.

Daily

I woke at six for work at six thirty --
God, these early hours hurt me.
My house-mate grabbed the shower first,
But I had no time to quench my thirst
And feed my need for caffeine.

So I stood dressing-gowned awaiting access
For ten minutes cold and tired,
Oh, for a silver spoon and to lack less
And to got to work truly inspired;
But that idea seems somehow obscene.

On my bike, down the road up the hill,
Past cars that could easily kill
An annoying cyclist on an early morning road,
How do the omens in the dark sky bode?
Is today a day for boredom like it's sometimes been?

Cleaning up, at one with the broom;
Tasting the swept muck's an intimation of doom --
And here we go once more round the room,
Backwards, forwards: shuttle on a loom.
Knitting something mute unseen.