J0HN STEVENSON (also known as.........)                      

           

YOU HAS BIN WARRRNeD!!!!!

WHO SAYS ROMANCE IS DEAD? (A Cringe Poem!)

 

Cold, dark ash

And charcoal senses

Wait, barely warm, for your touch

To stir flickerings to light;

Breath fans

Feeble hope into flame,

Tender tongue promising

To lick my poker;

A caring hand

Brings the Windolene of joy

And squirts on my pain.

MAKING TRACKS

 

Waiting at the station

Paid my fare

Standing on a platform

Heading somewhere

Bag full of hope

With a little to spare

And a ticket to tomorrow.

 

Wearing fresh knickers

And I’ve been to the loo

Plucking on a chicken

There’s nothing else to do

Got a little notebook

And my camera too

And a ticket to tomorrow.

 

Had a babanana

And a bottle of wine

Fissed as a part

Feeling fine

Everywhere I look

I see drunken swine

With a ticket to tomorrow.

 

Been there before

So I’m going again

Don’t know where it is

And don’t care when

May even meet people

Named Geoff or Bren

With a ticket to tomorrow.

 

Sun comes up

Night goes down

Cars all crawling

As drivers frown

Heavy with blues

And a hint of brown

And a ticket to tomorrow.

 

Stood here long enough

So I’m off back home

Live in the garden

Nevermore to roam

Send Tony and George

And the Millennium Dome

A ticket to tomorrow.

RHINO ROADS

 

I put my finger in a woodpecker’s hole

But the woodpecker wasn’t at home,

So I walked to the seaside with bucket and spade

And splashed ‘mid the sand and the foam.

 

 I strummed my guitar under the moon,

Sang harmonies with a coyote,

Toking on loco-weed, dining on beans –

Polished off with a load of peyote.

 

 I clacked on my typewriter, made the bell ring,

But no sort of sense was forthcoming,

The library lurked at the foot of the stairs

And the phone lines with whispers were humming.

 

I played with a pudding for hours on end

‘Til the currants and cherries were weeping,

Eyeing clouds for signs of cheese

While raindrops were silently sleeping.

 

I laughed with a dolphin, I swam with a will,

I ate raw fish without batter,

Then a Japanese fleet armed with knives and harpoons

Ran me down and made my head flatter.

 

I flew to the sun to turn down the heat,

For I’d found that the earth was burning,

My ship was with curtains and ashtray complete

And my breakfast showed signs of returning.

 

I held out my hand, smiling with teeth,

For the joy and the sheer love of living,

I hopped on a bus and tootled to Lye

To learn the meaning of forgiving.

MAKING IT WORK

 

"Affix part B with G" -

But no G can I C;

E lies there, and V lies hither

But no G’s got me all a-dither.

Here are D and T,

Along with E, V, and B –

But where the hell’s G?

Oh damn – now I need a P.

POTS AND PLANS 

 

There’s compost on the cooker 

And splashed across the floor,

There’s a note in my head, of brightest red,

That tells me I need more.

 

There’s tomatoes on the windowsill 

And fuchsias in the hall,

Tradescants and money plants 

Arranged around the walls.

 

The clivia’s in bloom, and coming soon, 

Sanseverias will be, too,

And at my ease I feel quite pleased 

With the plectranthus in the loo.

CHEMICAL BONDAGE ( C2H5OH ) 

 

 

                Forge this link

                  With chains of molecules

            Shuffled and swapped,

                           Stored in retorts

                Bubbling exothermic excitement.

 

 

                         Compounds crack in crucibles

                 As sediments settle;

               Selected elements resonate,

                  Emitting coded signals

                              On the wavelength of wander.

 

 

                           Bunsen burners blare

                        As catalysts concentrate

                                  The mind in glass mazes,

                             Filtration and fractional distillation

                     Refining meaning.

SOURCE 

 

It rises from the earth

Descends from the sky

Condenses into diamonds

On dawnstruck pastures.

 

Winds whisper secret formulae

Wakening woodlands with

A soft shaking, conjouring

Colours from cold dark depths.

VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

 

He’s very poorly…

 

Amorphous vistas

Flats high sky rising

In diminishing distance

Indistinctly hazed

To some shrouded horizon.

 

A while longer…

 

Isolated in discomfort

Infection emphasises loneliness

Swaddling starved senses

Wrinkled parchment skin pales

In testament to pain.

 

Not responding to treatment…

 

Staffclatter ceases

Silence sees red running

Through tubes to

Calcified veins sluggishly

Pumping life still lingers.

 

We’re doing all we can…

 

Tempers jangle

Twisted temperaments spark short

Frail circuitry fuses

Switches smash connections

Close to oblivion.

 

Face facts…

 

BRAUTIGAN’S GHOST 

 

In Watermelon Sugar

Sink to sleep, dreams drift

Across closed lids chase

Shadows.

 

In Watermelon Sugar

Lips speak silence, velvet

Echoes suggesting

Breath.

 

In Watermelon Sugar

Liquid flares, highlighting

Scents of shapes against

Flesh.

PRESCOTT

 

I saw this bloke, right?

Anorak, long curly hair –

Looked real bolshy you know,

Wouldn’t appreciate a decent car.

It’d been a rough day,

My mates had been getting stick,

My piles hurt – I was bloody starved:

This bastard threw an egg at my Armani –

I hit the sod.

GOBBLINS 

 

Circles turn singing songs of seasons,

Planets weave patterns in endless space,

Consumer society committing treasons

As money-men hide a smiling face.

 

Get what you can while time swiftly passes,

Grunting like pigs with snouts sunk in cake,

The breath of The Boss reeks of flatulent gasses

As he whispers, confiding – we’re all on the make.

 

Dig yourselves deeper devouring the meat

Of this reeling world with its fragile resource,

Wrap portions in plastic and send your fleet

To the mouths that await each pre-packed course.

 

Sing a song of dollars for a slice of the pie,

The world is an oyster – slurp, goodbye.

INFECTION (WITH APOLOGIES TO COLE PORTER) 

 

I’ve got you subcutaneously –

I can tell from the symptoms I show

That you give me hay fever;

That being said I’d rather be dead

Than not hear you blather –

I’ve caught a very nasty dose off you.

 

I felt when we first met a tightening of sphincters,

I took a G.T.N. just in case

And had a headache,

But oh, you were smiling

And I was amazed at your fag intake –

I’ve got blisters, and it’s all down to you.

 

Your eyes mesmerize

And I’m thinking of dropping my trousers,

Your hair makes me sorely aware

That I have a small penis;

I wish I had washed more often and knew about insects –

There’s a constant tingling in my groin.

 

You can tell by the grin on my chops

That I’d love a blow job;

I’m afraid that I’ve gone all sweaty

And started to dribble,

But then, I’m in local government and you’re only a teacher –

Even so, I’d like to poke around under your skin.

WORMHOLE 

 

Space is overloaded,

Sagging under the strain,

Warping the weft of reality,

Wreaking havoc in my brain;

Where is the loo of paper,

The lucky dip of fact,

The duck that quacks underwater –

The politician that can’t act?

 

Space is slipping sideways

Stuffing everything with time,

The galaxies reek of onion,

Pop culture’s a pantomime;

Read me the will of the people

And I’ll show you the way of God,

But first I must have money

To buy a lightning rod.

CLEANER WANTED 

 

Toxic earth

Dying trees

Varoa mite

No more bees.

 

Plastic mountain

Rubbish tip

Rising water

Sinking ship.

 

Soaring jumbo

Soak in the heat

Steroid beef

Tainted meat.

 

Carbon monoxide

C.F.C.’s

Human race

Fatal disease.

 

Fossil fuels

Stash the cash

Swapping shares

Boom and crash.

 

Third world debt

American dream

Starving millions

Silent scream.

 

Vote for apathy

Feed your kids

Arab fanatics

Rabid yids.

 

Happy-go-lucky

Four-wheel drive

H.I.V.

Staying alive.

 

G.M. crops

Factory farm

I’m alright, Jack –

No cause for alarm.

COLLECTOR’S ITEM 

 

A limited edition

Bound in skin, scarred,

Scarified, scraped smooth –

No rough edges.

 

Take a closer look –

A certain shoddiness;

Uneven print,

Paperback friction burns

On each line.

DOG WATCH 

 

Standing here I wish

I was standing there,

Bare-footed, centrally heated,

Cooking up a storm,

Safely roofed over.

 

Standing there you look

Out, hear wind whipping trees,

Bare-footed, sipping vino,

Amazed by the capacity

Of your dog’s bladder.

MONEY BLUES 

 

A dud is fired

And replaced by a winner,

Flying in, fiery latin lips

Lapping, for his cup runneth

Over; creaming and cropping,

Busily buying, selling, swapping.

 

Big-time boys with

Brilliant teeth make connections,

Add up the naughts for crosses,

As speculation simmers

And agents sniff the wind:

Let us play…….

ALL THE FUN OF THE FAIR

Mind gone to blazes, doors

Unhinged crash breaking glass –

Instantly in it up to the ass.

 

Dazed by distress signals fail –

Falling into an abyss screaming,

Hoping this is dreaming.

 

Down to earth dig in – safety

Lies cowering under fire, shaking

Hands clutch straws to breaking.

 

Point the finger dripping guilt,

Read cryptic signs by a new moon’s glow –

Never let your turmoil show.

 

Keep it locked, safely battened

Down in the cellar where nothing hears –

Spiders don’t have ears.

 

Smother it with carpet remnants,

Reminders of rampaging feet –

For now life is sweet.

TEDDIES 1

 

Teeny tiny Teddy bears romping through the woods,

Skipping stomping Teddy bears juggling Christmas puds,

Wearing beads and baubles, crying "bombs away!"

Getting frowned at by George Bushes, which is

Why you don’t see them around today.

 

TEDDIES 2

 

There’s a bear in the soup, having a wash –

There’s one in the pumpkins, though it must be a squash,

There’s a bear in the toilet bowl boiling French beans,

And there’s one in my brain undoing the seams.

DAWN STREET 

 

Too soon the shrilling sound

Erupted through our sleep,

Signalling an urgency

Immediate as love;

Intensely intimate there

We bask in body heat

And skin-soft radiance,

Eternal, yet mortal as a kiss.

 

Eyes utter soundless greeting,

Our hands caressing a farewell,

Your smile drowsy and content,

Haloed in golden red

As I shamble for my clothes.

 

Awareness blinds me

Next, standing dumbly

Staring at a closed door,

Knuckles poised indecisive

While your somnolent breath

Still echoes through my body,

My heart beating at barriers

That time puts between us.

 

Sense overwhelms longing

At last: sighing acceptance

I turn from temptation

Buttoning my coat,

Bracing against the shock of dawn.

 

New-minted silver, daybright

Silence disturbed by scuffing feet

Slipping on rimed paving,

Frost-broken quickstep rhythm

Clattering loud a need for warmth,

Reluctantly retracing the path

That leads home

Away from you.

BARKING VOLKSWAGEN 

 

Dreaming of Babylon

And underarm deodorant,

Rolling on and off

Into the sunset

Shimmering like a fag-end –

Marlboro Light.

 

Dreaming of alarm clocks

Laying eggs, laughing

Cavaliers passing at speed;

Made aware by screams

That there are cats

To feed.

 

Dreaming of a garden –

Colour-flushed bricks

Flowing like waves,

Two-fingered salutes

Concealed in foliage:

The scent of fantasy.

RHYME WITHOUT REASON 

 

Thumping neighbours, climbing trees,

Insulting friends, breeding fleas,

Flaming Arsenal, Christmas pud,

Kevin Costner, Gornal Wood.

 

Mobile phone, static defense,

Breaking vows, making sense,

Breathing deeply, shallow fat,

Ginger moggy, purple hat.

 

Latest news, running late,

Frozen stiff, paper plate,

Barking mad, Walkers crisps,

Laddered tights, lying lips.

 

Kissing cousins, instant relief,

Religious grounds, gleaming teeth,

Wholemeal bread, garden gnomes,

Fluorescent tubes, broken homes.

 

Coffee tables, Yorkshire Bank,

Rubber ducks, uncle Frank,

Heavy showers, p.r. blunder,

Curly kale, going under.

 

Silent night, jumbo jet,

Inner vision, national debt,

Flowing verse, cuddly pup,

Closing down, shutting up.

WEIGHT LOSS 

 

Run, you bugger, run,

For life's just no fun

With a ton of burgers clinging to your hips;

Get some proper exercise

And you won't believe your eyes -

D.O.A. in A.& E., with no vital signs and purple lips...

SOUNDTRACK 

 

I play the grand piano

But only in my head –

It drowns out all the racket

That makes me think I’m dead;

The farting of exhaust pipes,

The booming bass and drum –

Pissed laughter, violent curses –

Cogito ergo sum.

CRUMBLE 

 

Crumble, a cat of means,

Was one day cut off

By a surgeon.

In the prime of life

As he was,

He sharpened his claws

And, cunningly awaiting his chance,

Repaid the compliment.

The surgeon, an amateur opera singer

Of some notes,

Has since turned pro,

And wears his falsetto with a smile,

But he hates cats.

KILLING TIME

 

Mist washed webs

Condensing cargoes of diamonds,

Wind-whipped flares flicker

In treetops, swirling

Ash leaves bared branches,

Perches for swarming starlings

Stripping berries.

 

Pheasants call warnings,

Hunting horns haunt morning’s hush –

Presaging a rush of hounds

As hooves crush and rip; carrion cries

Of carefree riders competing

For a bloodied brush,

A tattered trophy.

CORNFLAKES 

 

Woke up this morning

In a dream last night,

It was late afternoon

On the Isle of Wight,

A shrubbery was digging

High upon the hill –

I thought I was tripping

And dropped another pill.

 

Woke up tomorrow

Thinking I’d been here before,

The Queen was standing guard

Outside my bedroom door,

And the trumpeters were singing

Like the roar of swarming cats,

So I sent them out for honey,

Toasted suns and curried bats.

 

Woke up in a box

With the ghost of Fred Astaire,

He was rolling dice with Jesus,

Who had lost all of his hair,

I said I felt like dancing

And they both asked me why –

The answer’s plain, it’s better

Than crawling off to die.

AGES OF MAN 

 

In the beginning

Was mud, moisture,

Veils of mist twisting,

Truth fan-dancing;

The fun of fantasy.

 

Down to business –

Tectonic shifts; wind,

Evolution, eruptions

Spewing magma, fire

And light, learning.

 

Now years erode,

Soften, undermine,

Toppling mountains, grinding

Hopes and dreams

Into dust.

HANGING ON 

 

Beyond expectations

Don’t expect style –

Accept limitations,

Take an hour for each mile;

Be thankful you’re still breathing

For you’ve met a bunch who’re not,

So keep on rolling fags, chewing fat,

Talking rot.

 

If a summer’s heat don’t kill you

Beware the winter’s chill,

And thoughts of love can’t thrill you

‘Cos you haven’t done a will,

And the wild old world is turning

As frustrations quietly rage,

To appear as ink and anguish –

Underpinning every page.

 

But tomorrow’s scent it teases

With promise of something new,

And between coughs and sneezes

You can still find things to do,

So you haul your body this way

And you drag the fucker that,

Twittering and squeaking

Like a laboratory rat.

 

Tomorrow, tomorrow,

Tomorrow will surely come -

You’re taking all the pills

And God’s will must be done;

He moves in ways mysterious

And surely knows what’s right –

What am I bloody saying?

He’s just turned out the light.

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