Dead Beat Beat

Dead Beat Beat 1968  5am rising to work transistor radio playing, “Hey Jude” Like a heaven-sent something, giving meaning to England. 2017 10am I’m retired, cars pass my house with dead beat beat, coming from super car audio, I feel sick. (Photo used by permission of the bloke with the spotty trousers)

Harvest Home

Trails of midnight, Christmas tree lights,Sold out on a dream when life was young.I can hear those church bells ringing through those Suffolk fellsI can here them so loud now!Where we walked together with high endeavourMystery skies where the crows dine in the flights of dayWhere that old Shanda juggled the starsCross the plains onto …

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Nail pierced hands

Laughing Time

Time, that makes these earth born dreams seem like eternities rainbow. Over the horizon, dancing platitudes and exhausted hope, words exhaled from meaningless heartbeats. “Go this way” shouts the boss-eyed Counsellor Freudian junkie with a speech impediment. “If only this fear would you leave me!” He has 100,000 thoughts in the chaos of kaleidoscope chance. …

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