what a carry on
the more ya think ya know
it means
the less you do
you think you got life sussed, mister?
have ya trapped god in yer test tubes yet?
and you know the age of all the rocks n stones?
and you got it all figured out
measurements
observations
empirical tests
comparisons
alchemy
dr john dee crystal gazing
a tiny angel spoke to him from the glassy ball
what is science?
what is magic?
oh and how we influence the end with the beginning
and the love that holds life in its hands
the weeds containing miraculous cures
the flower which brings slime
what do i know?
say it!
nothing nothing nothing
a tunesmith with 200, 000 miles on the clock
a little rust
a bit slow to start sometimes
here i am
receding into memory
these words already old
my synapses fire
my muse comes floating down
with her arcane words n her golden lyre
what?
you wanted poetry?
for your birthday, a little poem
wrapped up in the tenderest thoughts
sealed with a childs chaste kiss
soft comforting words for you then
about children behind the north wind
and the wizard of boland
and doors in trees
and subterranean caverns full of wee folk
and red spotted mushrooms in green fields
n english woods with humming moss
n in ireland where tir na nog is waiting for ya
behind a thin slither of reality
where no one ever gets old or dies
and wish trees full of golden apples n silver pears
and toy soldiers riding giant fish thru the briny waves
and merfolk singing in the distance on warm evenings
and the chapel of sacred mirrors
and the creatures who hide in darknesses in nurseries
and a day in the garden up in hertfordshire
bees languid drone, yellow jonquils
lunchtimes spent at home in bed when you were a bit sick
the dance of the dust in your bedroom
the school bell softly tolling in the distance
those old books that were brought from england
the gnomes n the elves
the talking animals
the forests n glades with the sentient trees
and marc bolan sittin’ in a field with his les paul
sustaining an everlasting E
while the pixies bop in the hedges
the rhinemaidens n the dwarves
all fairy dust encrusted
cobwebs n pearly dew drops
sing a song of sixpence indexed to inflation, baybee
apollo strings his bow
atlas drugged
ariel the elemental sprite
longing for freedom from its human master
its all coming together somehow
its all ok in here
i’ll make some sense of it later
im underwater now
and its deep
and marine
sk