Spiritual Hymns

Are the essence of a highschool choir
That sings often the sounds of Queen in the style of acapella
But also the rolling notes of Ezekiel Saw the Wheel
And the thumping heart of Elijah Rock.

How Can I Keep From Singing
When piano pushed
And the opening notes gently pulled in, to meet a booming brillance
My life goes on in endless song
And I recall the disconnect...

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The landlord called this morning

Said that she could tell I just woke up. To call her back later.

The cold was different to me, this late morning
Hazy, paired with rain
Drizzled, Murky, Heavy air that swept through the knit of my hoodie.

The branches lay next to the garage in a consecutively non-organized fashion, taken back by hand a few times

 To the old burning pile ...

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Here's a kind of slaggy one:

Bags:

Where are those carrier bags?

No, not those recycled poncy type.

The slaggy ones, a slip of plastic, 

with Key Markets or Tesco on the side,

Like me Mum had.

Throw away ones - which is exactly

what you did.  

Shamelessly, without a single qualm. 

plenty more where they came from.

Don't get me wrong, I salute those 

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A wistful vagueness presides over my aura

The night was clearer than ever

Now wasn’t the time,

Now I was headed to a service sublime

But do I regret these impressions viewed from my window?

Never

This ‘ere song from a vintage past

It crooned of simpler days,

It blasted my hopes into the freezing air

Carried me back to a time that wasn’t there

And I couldn’t help ...

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The end of the season

Brought to a close

Even when there’s a reason

Summer comes and goes

Do you know your summer’s a-fading,

Do you remember?

The hot sun, the warm cooled nights waning

Into September.

School was gone, and I — carefree all along

Oh! Now my old school worries are back

As that sun sets, I’m in sad song

Those shining days, soon to lack

The air beco...

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Present — past

Past — gone

Looking back and remembering the yesterdays

Is wrong.

*

Where is NOW?

Where is it?

Living in the THEN…

No, that’s not NOW, not it!

*

The ghost of yesterday

Is in mind

But looking back

Is the NOW you’ll never find.

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Returning Home

Will the birds sing in the garden

Will we go down to the sea

Will we build our castles of sand

Will there still be scones for tea

Will my father still be smoking

Will he jog me on his knee

Will summer days still last forever

Will there still be scones for tea

Will we dream of great adventures

Will westerns still be on TV

Will we sit ar...

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