Category: Po-et-tree & Vurz

Little Grey Men

You’re a little grey man

Glib and benign

Charismatic too

A very bad sign

No empathy or guilt

No conscience or remorse

Impulsive, grandiose

And callous of course

Lying is your forte

It’s the best you can be

Manipulative and cunning

That’s you to a T

With your superficial charm

As your main claim to fame

You charmed the socks off me

Again and again

Could have fooled me forever

But the truth is out

I’ve got your number

I know what you’re about

You didn’t succeed

I think you had a fail

I dodged that bullet

Escaped that jail

Little grey men

And women are here

Blending in so well

That they almost disappear

In families and at work

Among our very kin

Pretending to be nice

Destroying from within

Kings and Queens of the cowards

There’s many of them

They don’t deal in colour

These grey woman and men

Wolf in sheep’s pelt

They hide from the light

They’re very good at hiding

Right here in plain sight

When I meet your like again

I can’t guarantee

That I won’t be burned again

Another time or three

You go on your way

I took back all you stole

But psychopath-remember now

I SEE you by your soul

Just Give Me One Minute

Just give me one minute and I’ll be right there. I just need to do this little thing with my hair. I’m not always late, I’m sometimes on time. It’s not always your fault, it’s usually mine. Just give me one minute, just one minute more. I just have to mop up this spill on the floor. I’m busy like Martha, but more like Mary I should be, enjoying the moment, instead of making tea. A silence is needed, to hear the drop of a pin. I’m busy doing nothing, getting into a spin. Need to stay calm and attentive, Mary had it right. Listen to a friend, be serene tonight. I’m learning to love the moment and being still at the core. No time like the present, won’t waste a second more. You look as if you need a friend. I think that is my cue. I don’t need one more minute. I’m here to talk to you.

My Absent Friend

My absent friend

You may be gone

You may not be here at all

My absent friend

I miss you so

As long, as it is tall

My absent friend

I wish you well

I want to see you now

But you’re not present

You’ve not been sent

You’re neither why nor how

My absent friend

I’ll bide my time

For soon I know it SHALL be

That I will see you once again

And there’ll be you and me.

Ancient History

Like the Sumarians

Where the first river valley flowed

And the Romans

With their emperors and their roads

Like the Egyptians

With their science and tech headstarts

Like the Greeks

And their philosophy and their art

Like the Aztecs

With their agriculture of course

Like the Byzantines

And their exceptional military force

Like the Kush

Where skillful archers were made

Like the steppes

For its routes of travel and trade

Like the Indus valley

For its systems of measures and weights

And their building tricks

Of a highly advanced sort of state

Like the Phoenicians time

And a thousand years at sea

Like the world a long, long time ago

You’re ancient history.

Lonely Town

I know a place called Lonely Town

It’s got a pub and a resident clown

It has no lights that go on at night

It just gives up, without a fight

It has no hope, no belief

It can’t forgive, this town of grief

Lonely Town, need to get away

Outstayed my welcome, don’t want to stay

Time to forgive, time to hope

Time to cut this binding rope

I’ll pack my bags, won’t back down

No backward glance, I’ll leave this town

Once, you served me well

Like sadists often do

But now, Lonely Town, I’m moving on

To pastures green and new.

Missing You

I’m missing you, there’s a deep dark hole, right there, right here, in my grieving soul.

I miss you because you were bad for me, I am a masochist, that’s plain to see.

I’m missing you, with every fibre of my being, but the person you are, is not the person I’m seeing.

Time will heal, that’s what they say, but the time that’s passed, seems only one day.

‘With attachment comes suffering’, the wise say it too, but it’s the price of being human. What else can we do?

So let’s just say I’m over you and all your evil lies, I have said my last farewell and all my great goodbyes.

I won’t be missing you any longer, you are always in my heart. When I start to love myself, that’s when my life will start.

Summer Song

(or Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend Read a Book Like Me?)

Where’d my book go GQ?

The one I lent to you?

‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’

You said you liked the theme

It was a first edition

Now I am on a mission

I dig that book a lot

You need to drop it like its hot

Give me back my book

It was meant to be read

You used its pages

To do dope instead

I read it in the sun

chillin’ like a villain

I am never lonely

Shakespeare is my only

Thought you were a John Blaze

A Mc Dreamy snack

But you’re not off the hizzy

Buster, you just wack

Now you need to run the jewels

Or you’re gonna lose

Literature bites

It’s how I got my stripes

You’re not ‘off the hook’

Give me back my book

We had a trump tight season

Now I’m out of reason

My trust was at the max

Now your ass is grass

Summer is over

And so are we

Never a lender or a borrower be.

I Thought It Was The End

I’m at the cinema and the movie is on, but when I look down, the popcorn is gone. People are leaving, the seats are all tipped, the soda and cola haven’t been sipped.

    Wait, I was dreaming, fell asleep you see, I don’t like thrillers, bore the pants off me. The film went on, forever it seemed, but I quite liked to think

    it was the end

    in my dreams.

    And then I went home to find kitten at play, with a ball of wool she’d had her eye on all day. The unravelled thread, I followed along, ‘soft, strong and very, very long’.

    Out in the garden, the wool did extend. It was just the beginning but I thought it was the end. While tracking the string, U.F.O fleet I spy, orange and red, in indigo sky. Aliens fly to me, with guns all aglow,

    the end is nigh, they say,

    in their own lingo.

    It’s war of the worlds, army from the stars, thought my number was up, invasion from Mars. I thought it was the end, intergalatic death ray?

    No.

    It’s just the World Firework Championship Display

    Physics

    Do you remember our first date

    And our first kiss?

    When the bus jolted

    My cheek smacked your lips

    Your nose stabbed my eye

    And so we broke the ice

    Do you remember the days

    Filled with laughter?

    Our hearts free and happy

    Many afternoons

    Of tea and crumpet

    The ice melted

    Do you remember the dream we had

    And realised?

    We had frowned forever

    Now smiles of joy

    Imprint our lives

    Melted ice, now a pool of hot water

    Do you remember we loved

    In defiance?

    Snarled at the world

    Affronted by the rules

    Bewildered by the sun

    Pool of hot water sizzles to steam

    And now we’re so far gone

    No backward glance

    Like a helium balloon

    You go up

    I go up

    The steam rises.

    Chameleon

    The skin is old, Old as the hills

    Older than time, Won’t let go

    But no face lifts, No surgery

    No peeling it off physically

    Though… it’s kind of like that.

    Old skin, saturated with old things

    Underserved guilt

    Toxic shame

    Embedded in the cells

    Sealing in the grey

    But now it’s time to slough the leperous skin

    That no-one seems to see but me.

    Old skin is the old ways

    Old habits, old attitudes

    Brought up with the negative

    Programmed to live in the shadows

    Time to shed old skin

    And in its place

    A brand new coat of flesh

    Snuggled, cosy, comfy, clean

    Like after a hot bath

    The chameleon slips from the jacket

    Hurt skin needs to go

    And needs the complexion of her baby self.

    She can have the skin of a new born and start again

    Feeling untainted, undamaged, pure, good

    But the old skin was comfortable in a sinister kind of way.

    Familiar

    Sunscreen can’t stop the sun attacking this old skin

    Can’t heal the network of sores

    That built up over the years

    What-iffing won’t make it better

    There’s no bandage for this

    No ointment, no cream

    No miracle cure

    Except to be like a chameleon

    Let the skin fall away

    Unbutton the pain

    And start to live.