tolerance

this smoke is so blue
not very reminiscent of you
but the curvaceous cloud
stands still within the crowd
as though the very heart
of the world might depart
as though the deep spirit enshrined
had been deity signed

this smoke is not so tolerant
hardly remaining extant
in the tubes of the glory makers
or the piss takers
it percolates the time
searching for the crime
finding stories not the truth
turning heaven azimuth

this smoke is the life you lead
taking stock of mouths to feed
sending messages to the front
choking dogs out on the hunt
maybe it will choke you too
stopped instead of passing through
matching in your solemnity
both of blue tranquillity

©2009 Hey Hey

Winter Words

Winter words they crystallize
Clear meanings, that materialise
In breath, from souls of yaw
Where translucent images they draw
And the beating breast does slow
Amid such spectacle, charged to know

Winter words they conserve
Resurrecting all ought deserve
While the webs of ice so adorn
Those ne’er forgotten nor forlorn
Proclaiming devotion to vitality passed
Though frozen now, with eternity cast

©19th December 2009 Hey Hey

the ocean of asphalt

to find out this way
to see the world i ignore
appear in blood
in front of my face

i cant help shedding tears
for the people i don’t know
who live so close reaching
across the ocean of asphalt

who put their cards
through my letterbox
with no word
wishing

to find out this way
to see the world i avoid
appear
so soon behind my laughter

this is the worst
worse than not knowing
now knowing
the cause of the traffic delay

©2009 Hey Hey

complete

when the beautiful sound of her
becomes the glorious sight of her
the moment is complete
the day is complete

©2009 Hey Hey

becoming one

becoming one with days
and resting where the truth, her ways
now understood
the duly sifted memories, that should
never be misplaced
for time and tears cannot be replaced

o’er fields that run
with early green, then glistening golden sun
the fortunes that could be made in thoughts of yaw
but yielding to the call of that she saw
so, regretful eyes of lost opportunity
shed life, the price for this unity

and here will rest
at the end or beginning of a fateful quest
perhaps of time, the treasure
spent or lost, its measure
though seemingly cast in stark algidity
still, who’s masquerade be joyful eternity

©2009 Hey Hey

'tis six

a six o’clock take on essential blues
drawing curtains, kicking shoes
while rules are melting bourbon ice
the need has gone, now imprecise
in here the furnace warms the word
that outside came just so absurd
but danger would to speculate
presumptions not articulate
for six might ever write said prose
into such spells transform who knows
where inclinations to repeal
what was become, is now anneal
unable in this dream secure
escape the mystery world obscure

©2009 Hey Hey

so calm, a sonnet of fury

its terrible to be so contrite
when proof of angels turns to shite
and pissing onwards in the wind
is just the least to ought, rescind
the faithful words, observe
the gall, inadequacy, the nerve

in these times of trials, believe
or bravely take the pill, deceive
the offerer of hands who sends
saying still that vinegar and paper mends

how could the foot soldiers so calm
defeat the enemies of mind, as vietnam
fury yet persists, and totalled is the sanctity
that died in blood soaked enmity

©2009 Hey Hey

ago

ago is here again
the long time ago that should never
but now we have ago that will last forever
and the music and wine
everything was fine

maybe was only then
when maybe was perhaps as good as this
remembering maybes with every kiss
with first eyes for to keep
it never was so deep

future was a distance when
the only future was much more of now
and the future would explain how
we might ever know
such a time ago

©2009 Hey Hey

not the end

he tells me a year will end
for him on the 31st, and for me it will end too
yet not a simple end of the year
rather, a time to reappear

it will end in a commonwealth of beard
(a grey me and a grey you)
whose reciprocal thoughts we send
to where prose are never feared

so, how does it feel, approaching end days
as the glorious past disappears with each new word
and where the completely absurd
future is surely ablaze

be born again as the new spells begin
though striking the dozen will always win

©1st December 2009 Hey Hey

possibly in progress