Profit without Conscience

Your double dip debt areoplanes

Are coming home to land

And all you've got is the blood of money

Dripping from your hands

The Devil's in the detail

And greed's a deadly sin

Profit without conscience

You lose, I win

(work in progress...)

A Trick of the Light

I know it's just

A trick of the light

Falling through the window

Across the empty room

To where you sit

On a plastic chair

Playing that tune

But the dust is dancing

To the sound

Tombé

To the floorboards below

And I know

It's a trick of the light

A quirk of the late hour

And the notes

Falling

Where you sit

Playing that tune

Where it Lies

Pan played a cold tune

When he played for you

In moonlight bathed

And shadows swathed

Your heart is stolen from your sky

Left to languish where it lies

Pan played a cold tune

When he played for you

A game of moves

And quiet clues

To what could be inside your mind

Beyond the reach of measured lines

A sea defence wall

Broken by winter squalls

A morning of fractured light

Dispells your uncertain night

A coat-hanger caught in the door

A pile of clothes on the floor

Startles the same old sames

Into a different frame

In moonlight bathed

And shadows swathed

Your heart is stolen from your sky

Left to languish where it lies

Pan played a cold tune

When he played for you

Pan played a cold tune

When he played for you

For A Long Time Now

It's a been long time letting go

Sometimes it feels it is all we know

And I'm not sure it's adequate to say

But I've been here from the start

Standing next to you all the way

Sweet heart

Reach out now

Sweet heart

Holding out now

Sweet heart

Reach out now

Because I've been here

All the way

Base Metal

We were base metal turned to gold

Beautiful hearts to have and to hold

I was a promise written on your skin

You were a poem for me to sing

How could we have known

Too high a price we paid

And love would hold us ransom

Till the end of our days

Beautiful hearts to have and to hold

We were base metal turned to gold

Your eyes find me from the newspage

A hundred years to the very day

That they took you from me

Down to the County jail

Down those dusty lanes

Down those dusty lanes

Tried for a poacher

The story's always the same

Twas only food for the table

Turned to three years without bail

Down those dusty lanes

Down those dusty lanes

You died of a fever

To the freedom of your grave

But your love held me ransom

Till the end of my days

We were base metal turned to gold

Beautiful hearts to have and to hold

I was a promise written on your skin

You were a poem for me to sing

How could we have known

Too high a price we paid

And love would hold us ransom

Till the end of our days

Beautiful hearts to have and to hold

We were base metal turned to gold

Seven more miles to go

Time for a new collection of poems and songs and bits and bobs that I'll be collecting along the way. It seemed to start this year with Snake River (see previous blog, a poem about our local river which isn't called snake river but the timing of writing it coincided with the Chinese New Year [year of the snake] and I can't think of a better title right now than a line from it, Seven More Miles To Go. The photo is from one of mine from the garden. I'm guessing that, as always, journeys will be a theme.

Snake River

Mist rising from the river

Seven more miles to go

Green light city

Caught up in the flow

As dreams fly, cormorant shape on the clean sky

Who knew this heart would carry me so far from home

I can't sit and wait for you to notice

How far we've travelled from

All those things we took for granted

All those promises undone

A cold night fading into yet another day

I can't wait for you to notice

We're travelling the wrong way

Mist rising from the river

Seven more miles to go

Green light city

Caught up in the flow

As dreams fly, cormorant shape on the clean sky

Who knew this heart would carry me so far from home