SEA

I'm writing this pome from in-
side out, to give me conflicting 
words to shout about.  We all 
need love and life to labour, these
words have become my only saviour.  

Why do i try to rhyme with time when
time goes against my grain under grey skies
and rain on rain.  How can i follow great men
when life doesn't follow me.  i'll go my own 

way that i know to the sea, my way. 

I dont want to fall in line, to go over the top 
I want to stop look and cry when humanity 
touches me. I want to dune my own shore
and go back out to sea, I want to touch 
the colour blue to feel it swim in me.

THE SAME

The clouds are really moving today
Drifting right out of the blue.

Time is moving on away from me
Today is just like any other but

I can feel it drifting by, every-
Thing seems to be the same
But different?

MEMORY WHEELS

I’m branching out into

abstract realism, the un-

known, an evolution of col-

lure.  It goes with the flow

of the wheel, -chair in me.

the inner sanctum

memory wheels.

The plant of a painting, from

where i do not know? it does

not ask a question, what, where?

it just is, where i’ve been and

what i’ve seen de-term-mines

the flow of the wheel.

The elements are pouring

down but i have learnt to

swim, since i was a boy

almost drowning in the

Irish sea.







IT TAKES TWO TO TANGO

Words come right out of my blue

Like gifts of the moment, wrapped
In light or dark, they both delight. 

Dark and light are just the palette
Of humanity, as if life was a col-
Lure for the senses, melancholy

Is ok as long as the world lets
Me express that without being in
The suicidal 50’s, people have to
Realise that depression is only
A way of life.

Melancholy is a state that we have

to live in to understand. Were told

never go down that road that’s

the devils way, I know it’s not

The road for children buts its

A very creative state. We live

In two minds, one is good

And one is bad but we create

The borders of the mind. Think

Of it as an M C Escher illustration

You have to go down to come up.