How the children must sing of this day
Supping buttermilk in an innocent way
Dalliance whittles the gentle morning away
In dreams of custard fairies, I'm none too sure
Whether the weather will change.

Musings Volume 1
Though seeds of destruction
Should flower and bloom
I gaze through the window
And stare at the moon
We are two creatures, you and I
Neither children of the night
But lulled by its fluid charms
Into the arms of an angel.

There's a certain sad anonymity
In being average decidedly
None are so plain as you
None are the same as you
Normal being far from the norm.

I woke up this morning
To a day no different from any before
In that it was completely different
From every one prior.
Somehow the 'average day'
Feels like nothing so much
As being sawn in half.

In a team of giants no one is tall.

The children in the dark
Hiding behind their hands
We were flames and we were floods
But they fought tooth and nail
Innocence never understands
If you war against yourself
You either draw or lose.

Smile says the spider

Even in the dark you know you are
A friend
Even in the dark you know you are
Truth could grow on trees
Like you've grown on me

You join the dots

There were Arabs
Oiling the desert
Like clumps of dandruff
Against the pail
Till smoke cleared like tolling bells
Piercing the villages
To a man

English towns with ivy crowns
And redbrickwork
Wending lanes
Atherosclerosis
It's a wonder anybody moves
Horns coagulating softly
Beneath the muffled thump
Of a helicopter pushing the earth away

I don't put many feet right
One in front of the other
But more to the side like
A drunk negotiating a hallway
I could stand aside
Or knock you down
(You wear that frown
So beautifully)
Or maybe both
I feel it my duty
Four on the floor at all times.

Lightning claps I take a bow
Press my forehead to the floor
Only more to the side like
A man crushed by the world.

It seems I'm not the supergreatawesome teacher I wanna be.

Strange how that goes.

Life is rollerskates and fudge.

I jhust love watching Wellington harbour

At night

When it's raining

From the comfort of the living room.

It's flippin magic.

The Autobahn

The future is cash in advance
We are living in the trees
Washing windows with our eyes
While tired turbos groan by
Bulging brimful of richer-than-thou
Like a spoon fed infant
In a cutler's house

They slice through the green
A mercapto river of luxury
Laughter like pinching a pinned foe
Toenails dug in, dancing
Dancing, dancing
Or was it juggling tomorrow
In hands made slick with guilt.

We dribble our thoughts
Through the thick soupy traffic
Electronic waves invisible
Speeding like doves from a gun
Firing into the air
Is it celebration? Freedom?
Hah.
Nought but the sound of a thousand feet
Falling against the cracks
And slipping through.

I was digging in my garden
And I found them
Seeking peace and solace
In the cool embrace of uncaring earth
They wriggled from the harsh glare
Soft, pink skin writhing in an agony
Not truly felt by me, but
Hiding their faces in their hands
They shed no tears
Determined their serpentine way
And departed.