playing on words

Playing on words
I never quite knew all the rules
Rules that measure the length of relevance,
The height of wit,
The diameter of compassion
The radius in the limb of a crooked figure painted on concrete floor and filled with all my aspirations, ideas and principles,
Principally useful for
Purposes of illustration
Hung on the wall of a station
We all pass through,
Commuting our sentences, like lifers in a rush
To conjugate and ink the period, dry and complete,
Writing their liberation, it’s all in the wrist,
And the strain is repetitive,
Unoriginal, derivative, infectious, contagious,
Franchised liability limited,
I’m gagging on orders that I haven’t received yet
Rejecting the recipe, one candidate not willing to be deceived yet
Maybe I just can’t perceive the need yet
To let sleeping dogs lie through ivory teeth
And shovel shit to feed death;
Death of Dreams
Death of Hopes
Death of Ideas
Death of Questions
Then stand in line to give thanks and blessings for the dividend
All the while shouting inside when will it end
I won’t bend, just to break
I’ll spoon against the gently sighing back of love
To find strength
I’ll embrace friendship in a crowded room or all alone in a telephone booth
To slit the throat of pretence
I’ll kiss belief on the cheek
As we meet to travel,
Passports in the pockets of the clothes on our back
To choose vulnerability over defence
Determined Self Ignited Burning
A carbomb in the embassy of cynicism
And I’ll walk away,
Shake the hand of family in a gift shop and find my niece a present
A past, a future, gift wrapped,
With a bow and a quiver of arrows shaped like sunsets
Quivering, racing, rushing to catch themselves again and paint the world
In new colours on a canvas of sky
And just this once I don’t think I’ll keep the receipt
I’ll screw it up and toss it away with all my grief,
Every shot glass of sorrow, Every pint of self-pity,
Shed like hangover sweat,
Remembering the right to forget
And to care again and let go of regret
Appreciate the grace that invites respect
To the party of a lifetime; No dress Code, No Guest List
No pumpkins at midnights chime
Cinderella will go to the ball and stay until six in the morning
Making love and conversation under canopy awnings
And the mouth of destiny sis yawning
Open, choose to step in and keep the lions roaring

Even for one day
Better that than a thousand as lambs
I walk eternity balanced on a grain of sand
And chase Mercury, Never blame the stars or planets
Stride purposefully, along the surface of my insecurities
And stay standing, never branding self as property,
Never give dominion or monopoly to the anything but the light within me, a child of verbs, reborn in each action

scrappy

Does the meaning lie in the conscience?
London is a hitman stalking me in my waking, never quite losing track
I'm a Hooker, a Politican, a Murderer
Obstinate like an unfiled tax return gathering dust
Bank these better crossings from the channel between flags
For the days of borders and walls are really upon us again
A sleeveless tatooed tourist in picadilly circus takes a seat, oblivious, a fire engine in a traffic jam
I read Sam Kashner and lust for love somewhere between beauty and elegance
This many people, this much to do, commerce, transactions
Mapping the city through footsteps and receipts
Somewhere amidst the debris nestles a little scrap of truth
Even more potential, Ever more trees in the wood
Beyond seeing
The tourist pressed mutes; grey cotton over kaleidoscope skin and I'm still waiting for Faith
Let's find the Wedding AND The Feast and be released from our heroes
Steaming piles of noodles peppered to the Nigerian tongue await us in the morning after, and more delights besides, dancing.

Distraction

Distraction/From the main event/Roadside bomb that shorted/Whilst the bombers strafed the city/NO-ONE gets out alive/Fused glass figurines posed in domestic bliss

Provocation/ Of the disproportionate response/Collateral Damage deemed inconsequential to the good/Trumpets sound/A new order from the chaos/Partnership and serenity amongst the ashes and empty bottles

Demonstration/ Of power/Muscles flexed/Vision crystal of just how far the fingers extend/ To push buttons and proffer gold

Invitation/Join the party/Free, lost in jubilation/Celebrate or freeze outside/And take your culture with you

Coronation/ Of the monuments/ The empire/ The dynasty to come/ You could be a part of it/ Or could martyr self for selfs sake of self alone/ A momentary distraction in the gutter of our pristine pavement