With A Trope

I tried to elope with a trope

but couldn’t cope

with all of his clich├ęs

Been Running All Night

Been running all night

Can’t go on no more

Been running all night

And my heart is sore

Got to be quick

Got to be quiet

Got to keep going through this predicted riot

Been running all night

Can’t go on no more

Been running all night

Just to feel my heart soar

These fractured wings hang from strings made of hope

Tied up in knots and crosses of my own sins



Economic Pastors of the Butchers Apron

Elections coming soon.
Keep in mind, at all times, environmental doom.
Or let fascism bloom in Britain.
It’s been sittin’ and waitin’ for the chance again
To rule the world and its waves
This sceptred isle
This home of slaves
Who vote for their masters
Economic pastors of the Butchers Apron
Dripping in working class blood

Blood Sports


I’m rich and I like my blood sports

Usually, I can be found working in courts

Judging the great unwashed mass

When the weekend has come to pass

I love hunting with the hounds

A pure bred pack on the back of another pure bred pack

Cutting no slack up the front are more pure breed animals chasing natures own animals

Like hells cannonballs, they run for their very lives

Fleeing the aristocratic knives

After the initial savagery of the canines


This year for lent I am giving up paying rent

I’m also giving up working too

What else is there to do ?

I will live and laugh and lie in , in the morning

Break my alarm clocks with a an old sock full of pennies

Drink so much coffee I’m in need of Rennies

Then write and draw the world and the stars

Frequent bars with my pad and pen

Wander the cities again and again

As I grow with the flow

Eventually I will crack and crumble

My body to earth, tumble and return

As meat-sack or ash in an urn