Cushions

scatter cushions

...turning..

..floating...

turning around

in silent circulation

through the circle

of a system

where the solar cycles

turn telekinesis

into fine degrees of

transcommunication

turning cushions in the air



they turn around

as we float them by

with the system of an eye

and scatter light

across a fabric

in motion

where the moment meets

the centre

of the circle

where the circles

cycle by

word and words

one way with words is talking

clearly and concisely

sending syllable sounds walking

whilst wondering where precisely





arbo rollom beatrix pigg

heapo peepo durnum chigg

these are words that go somewhere

over hills within the air





so sew your ceiling to the sky

take a trip inside a tree

and see how words can flip and fly

eating elec trici ty





narmut chissle under rodo

tarnut chib quasi modo

holo ruddle worral hob

hello chuddle borrow blob





RAKE A WUTTLE

TO THE CHABB

AND WRAP YOUR RUTTLE

WITH A YABB!!!!!!!!!

between start

all through the total road

campagnolos become rolled

over mountain gravity

down to ground activity



in spinning shine of air and sun

an anquetil becomes one

in flying colours of the throng

where velocity and jacques belong



pursuing cycle energy

into group telepathy

where the winner can depart

through the finish of the start

cave of sight and sound

looking for the age of high

in the cave of concave sitter

roaming with the wide eye

that lights upon a cave shitter



blast of air

echo warning

hello there

good morning

light loom

over hills with trees diverse

through laws of the universe

drama unravels

as time travels

to points of view

(they're all for you)

to enlighten your own

which is then sewn

into a fabric of light

that is woven at night

by an orbital loom

we know as the moon

experiences and wishes for pavement

take us up and down

and around the bend

on a journey that is

much longer than it is wide

on a pavement that is much stronger

than a shoe


some go around the block

others are straight or meandering

some reside with houses

then take off down the lane to trees and fields


our thoughts walk along the pavement

then wander away towards a bush or chimney

the lamp posts look similar

and we avoid them when we can


a pavement has a curb on one side

and the road is there

and if we dare

we can cross to the other side


turning motion into time

along the pavement pattern

we see it is slim

which it often is


we can find epiphany on pavement

or turn around if so wish

and our eyes are horizontal

with a pavement's flight


go past robo house

and belmattron window

see reflective coco

with coppi(*) in the air


this is what we do

with pavement on the ground

on pavement that is with us

when we are there









(*) fausto coppi italian racing cyclist, winner of the tour de france 1949 and 1952 and five times winner of the giro d'italia 1940, 1947, 1949, 1952 and 1953

chestnut tea

i like to drink a cup of tea

because i drink it splendidly

before i take a little walk

in the park where puddings talk

beneath the sky that's high and wide

where wondering clouds cannot hide

from the birds who wheel and thread

across the sky within my head

whereupon a tree i see

a chestnut tree that looks at me

with a sea of lazy leaves

singing leaves in the breeze

making notions come to me

in a motion suddenly

that when the sky turns in the air

it makes my shoes go over there

along a zig and zagging street

the street where time and people meet

sometimes with a cup of tea

in a garden up a tree

Bowls

it's a bowling ball
as i recall
see it rolling
when you're bowling

turning round
in circle time
going somewhere
over there

across the green
with a sheen
like an eye strolling
where the bowl is rolling

oh

Ob

bob a bobble
and a bob
wobbles

wob a wobble
and a wob
bobbles

bobblewobblewobblebobbles

Things

secret sound
of silent things
turns around
making pings
that are found
in little rings
by a hound
made of strings

homosapiens come and go
speaking words i don't know
hungarians start a show
smashing my old piano

i decide to sing
a very silly thing
'up the stairs
and through the pears
crimson bears
eat apples and chairs'
then i see a ring
vanish in a ping

Water Things

I am only young and only just begun, I see the bobbing light on the water where the future scenes of where I am belong, a light that bobs along and will become the recollection of scenes stretching inside the reflection of light that flexes then shrinks and stretches on the water surface as my senses are sprinkled among those who belong where the trinkets of time come from here in a bowl to find a flow in games with water for my boating captivated by the show of glistening light where time is floating, I am only young and only just begun.

Is'nt It

a voice that says
is is
and nothing more

is what?
what is?

shut up

Around The Air

chimes in circles of time
chime inside the air where the air circles

around the air

around the chime
as the circles
declare
the circle rhyme

rotate and fly

turn silent songs
into invisible sights
with places found inside
elemental sounds
wide and long rotating
sight inside the hand
of sounds on round
ground where the beta land is
bound again in sight beside
a song where light and air

bright

alpha

light prepares to turn
around a sky of faces
through one hundred and eighty places

Located

Around a voice
Around a time
Around the remembered place

And through a choice
And through a rhyme
And through the connected space

All the times live as one
And one is two beyond
When the two are one again
The whole will be regained

High and Wide

the white houses parade
in the high and wide
while their shapes are made
in a wandering ride

through the head
across your sky
thoughts are lead
by your own eye

In A Shoe

i once did a pooh
it was inside my shoe
i put the shoe on
it was'nt much fun

Breezing

the grass is combed by the air
formed into a breeze
that travels to somewhere
inhabited by trees

as a ripple of summer time
the breeze passes by
so slight and sublime
the senses will sigh

Open Head

i lay on a bed
and open my head
into the places
where people's faces
come and go
they're people i know

beginning to leave
i start to weave
into a room
wrapped in a tune
someone has spoken
we're out in the open

there's a drum in my dream
it rolls in a stream
a timeless thing
connected by string
i take off my hat
and follow a cat

Light & Air

soft gust of light
breeze and hover
on the air hover
there

where the air hovers
on the light
a dandelion bobbles

a butterfly wobbles