IVORY TOWERS

looking down from my eyrie
under a moody grey sky
nothing is black and white
criss-crossing paths weave a confusing pattern
irregular triangles and polygons
hasty decisions on a tired architect's drawing board
shuttling denizens navigate these arteries
as february bites
they hurry and scurry
past empty benches
their plaques unread
how i got here i don't know
tall poplars punctuate red brick and neoclassical curves
a mermaid flounders
stranded high and dry on the library frontage
inside the dust falls and gathers
across the square
revolving doors spill out puddles of arts undergrads
like me
on their way to somewhere else

IDLER (SONG VIDEO)

TRANSGRESSION

you hunt me
and you kill me
you murder my children
you lock up my brothers in tiny cages
you conduct your cruel experiments
you dig up my home and my hinterland
and cover it with inpenetrable grey tarmac
and buzzing power lines
you come with your guns
your gas
and your poison
with your euphemisms and your metaphors
killing is culling
or worse still
it is management
or even development
you are so clever
and yet you are so vain
your arrogance knows no bounds
you choke on it
you outwardly prosper and thrive
and yet you are dead inside
you tap and stare at your little screens
but see nothing
all things must pass

ON THE WAY TO THE FACTORY

pedalling to the factory
where the bones of language are reconstituted
harborne lane vexes
its casual ugliness
its traffic blight
its lack of care
shell petrol garage
measures out the price of environmental carnage
in the niger delta
i am singing the song of the moment
brother wolf
softly under my breath
as i pass a fellow traveller
hooded
tracksuit bottoms
head bent
low under his breath
the grunt erupts with sudden violence
shut the f*** up!

all they will find is his bones
licked clean

REANIMATION

a key turns
the mechanism engages
cogs and springs stir into action
wheels revolve
a train of events is set in motion
the automaton jerks back into life
what it will do
who can tell?
its eyes are impassive
the polished head balanced serenely
on the slender neck
the limbs stiff but purposeful
the hand poised to write
the lips poised to vocalise
the senses reawakening

DON'T BE LONELY

When the hour is getting late
When the light is growing dim
When the earth is giving way
When the walls are closing in
Don’t be lonely

When the gods have turned away
When the fates no longer smile
When your star begins to fade
When you’ve fallen out of style
Don’t be lonely

When the bastards get you down
When there’s no one on your side
Don’t be lonely

When the sun is in your eyes
When the wind blows in your face
When the winter starts to bite
When your collar starts to chafe
Don’t be lonely

In the darkest of hours
When fear and hunger devours
Don’t be lonely
Caught in the tightest of webs
At your lowest of webs
Don’t be lonely

When you feel like giving up
Please don’t be lonely

TROUBADOR

The troubadour stands in front of the crowd
With eyes soft and dreamy he gazes around
He tries to remember, he tries to forget
As he sings them his tales of pity and regret

He takes his guitar and begins to strum
His words tumble out, he knows not where from
But the chattering crowd they look on with disdain
They don’t want to listen, they’ve never heard his name

Troubadour, troubadour
He has a tale to tell
Troubadour, troubadour
He knows it so well

His songs they pour out like whiskey from a flask
His melodies they flow like ale from a cask
The crowd they ask him for mirth and for cheer
But his thoughts they are dark as the colour of his beer

He’ll play his sweet music to all who have ears
He’ll sing of his visions, he’ll sing of his fears
He’ll play them a ballad, a lilting lament
He’ll play till his voice and his fingers are spent

Troubadour, troubadour
He has a tale to tell
Troubadour, troubadour
He knows it so well

His sad eyes  carry the burden of society’s ills
This melancholy minstrel, he’s had more than his fill

He’ll play in the morning, he’ll stay there all night
He’ll play for your pleasure, he’ll play for a pint
He’ll play for the coin you toss into his hat
He’ll play for the pauper and the aristocrat

Troubadour, troubadour
He has a tale to tell
Troubadour, troubadour
He knows it so well

Troubador, troubadour
Give them a song
And then play them one more
Troubador, troubadour
Give them another
Then play your encore

THE BOATHOUSE

The water laps the shoreline and the ripples spread in circles
The sun is sinking slowly out of sight
The bats skim low for insects and the fish lurk in the shadows
Day is burning slowly into night

Lay your head on these cushions, look up at the sky
Let’s go down to the boathouse, you and I

Can you hear the quiet of this rare and precious evening?
Can you smell the fragrance in the air?
Can you sense that time has been suspended for a moment?
Can you taste the magic in the air?

Shake loose from your moorings, shake loose your hair
Go down to the boathouse, I’ll meet you there

Oh we could be floating away
Oh we could be in another place
Oh we could be so high
Oh we could touch the sky

The evening is so lovely and you, you are so lovely
Is that a spell you’ve put upon me?
Don’t be shy
Let us seize the moment or it will vanish like a rainbow
Come let’s go before it fades and dies

Take this oar in your hand, feel the smooth grain
Let's push off from the boathouse and drift away

Lie back on your pillow, close your eyes
Let’s go down to the boathouse, you and I