Consuming

Was it worth it?
The new jewellery for the wife
And the plastic toys for the children

It’s just a tumour that has spread around the globe
By the men and women that live here
Soon we’ll be consuming again

Well, they’ll ask us
The children all cry, what will you do?
To change your ways by next Christmas

It’s just a tumour that has spread around the globe
Somebody said the oceans got filled in
With all the plastic we discarded
The result of this consuming

Without any thought for our world
Shopping for dear life
When we should be saving our home

It’s just a tumour that has spread around the globe
A news report of a washed up dolphin
Within a few years, we’ll be suffering
Notifying our children, we got it wrong

It’s all we’re skilled in
We will be consuming again

Without any thought for the world
Shopping for dear life
When we should be saving our home

It’s all we’re skilled in
We will be consuming again

Without any thought for the world
Shopping for dear life
When we should be saving our home
When we should be saving our home
When we should be saving our home

(to the tune of ‘Ship Building’ by Elvis Costello)

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Spy Story II

I woke in a strange bed
in a strange room.
Beyond the grimed window
a street I never knew.
I turned and met your eyes
a stranger from another time.
Beyond your gaze a fathom
of bottomless ocean blue.

You spoke to me of love
from your ravenous heart.
Beyond the papered walls
a beat was heard in echo.
Your finger placed upon me
sealed my lips from speaking.
Beyond your warm touch
of fathomless origin.

I stood in  a strange room
with four walls and a bed.
Beyond the gilt edged mirror
a reflection quite unknown.
I turned and met your eyes
a glance from another time.
Beyond the motes of dust
a motionless tide crept in.

You moved between space
from here to there to here.
Beyond your moonlight skin
a glimmer of something pure.
You spoke to me of the past
when time had just begun.
Beyond your years of living
a restless soul was sleeping.

I woke in a strange bed
in a strange room.
Beyond the grimed window
a street I never knew.
I turned and met your eyes
a stranger from another time.
Beyond your gaze a fathom
of bottomless ocean blue.

(after ‘Spy Story’ by Vernon Scannell)

what shall I write you on this maudlin morning

what shall I write you on this maudlin morning
that peers between clouds over the hillside

what shall I tell you that you haven’t already heard
what truths and lies that hide behind my words

what shall I keep from you in future safe storage
those little white lies we disguise behind our eyes

what shall you take from me and what will I give
this moment or that or the past so recently forgot

what shall the day bring if nothing’s worth repeating
more clouds, more rain, more words, more sighs

what shall I write you on this maudlin morning
that pours between us like an ocean divide

journey

imagine an empty highway
now tell me from which exit should I leave
am I heading out into the burning desert
where the Joshua trees wait with welcoming arms
or am I heading towards the coast
where the pelicans fly in ragged lines

imagine an empty back road
now tell me where I should pull over and pause
am I looking out into a fiery wilderness
where the light dazzles and dances before my eyes
or am I smelling the salty ocean breeze
where the dolphins swim in family pods

imagine an empty dirt track
now tell me if my rental car will make that bend
am I climbing to gain a higher perspective
to witness the making of all this splendour
or am I driving between secluded sand dunes
to find myself on some long forgotten beach

imagine an empty hiking trail
now tell me should I proceed on foot
am I here to meet you on the other side
where the daytime turns to oily night
or am I swimming out to find you somewhere
under the waves and starlit depths