In the Midst

Thunder knocks on doors..

Before rain pours..

And stretch marks are left..

On elastic skins, 

Like scar marks, from pregnancy..

Muscles grow on flesh tissue..

And tyres are left without tread..

Like a hairless bald..

The face has no emotion to show..

And Rome burns and it's neighbour too..

So no spare hands are found to transform..

Into parachutes, on last cards played..

On S.O.S..

Do not show worry or tears..

Do not talk of pain..

For baking cakes,..

Must withstand ovens heat..

Before icing can be placed as crowns..

Caged Lion

Oh day, among the trailers stands..
Oh jail of lions, four corners surround..
And murdered straws, lie on floors..


Your vision, in battles with obstruction..
As bloodless, boneless meat; tasteless..
Is served on plater as treat..


What a pity, while rural landscapes..
Lie in sight, opened, free..
Ready to be set on  pace..


What a pity, to feel fraudulent..
Locked behind rods..
While uproar is sang about majesty..


Let me loose, set me free..
And sing of me, after I am..
No more in chains..
Free to walk, while joggling on strings..
Tied between two Himalayan mountains..


Call me king of the jungle..
When my roar, sends wilder beast running..
And crocodiles, only have mouth to say..
When sat in waters comfort..
"You better stay there, in waters"..

Phoenix Breaths

Have you seen, with gifted sight..
The bottom line of pits..
Made stand and smiled..
On platform stage..


Have you danced a tango with a cactus..
And bowed down in appreciation..
While still unplugging what was left behind..
In piercing thorns on skins..


Do not speak bad of the dragon..
I have come to appreciate it's breath..
In dens he owned, I sat in a lodger..
He kept me warm and gave light 


Trick or treat, is from what side..
Side of the coin the toss, gravitates..
So the lucky coin, still has a side..
Unseen yet, until show of hands..


Like everything else, in matter..
Do not speak bad of the dragon's breath...
That is the way, blindly  
Opportunities are lost on perception  

Jack Jones I.J (Part 4 - 4) Novel

INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST

 She looked hesitant as she carefully pointed the gun from side to side. She pulled a phone out of her pocket and yelled, " how far away you are" Then she followed "you sure fifteen minutes"  went on to say on the phone, after listening for a while. "No I am not its just a cat, pushing pans down in the kitchen". Ok see you Hun she added,  looked through the window, closed the back door and went next to the cupboard.


 She stood in front of it for a while, turned round to walk off. Jack Jones came out of the cupboard, drop the gun he said "drop the fucking gun". Hands up Jack Jones added, soon as she held her hands up he grabbed the gun on the floor, with a shock on her face surprised to see him without a gun but the one she had just dropped. Jack Jones, had a grin on his face, nice move he thought  said "hi we spoke on the phone remember" 


She just looked at Jack Jones, bemused. He  pointed the gun at her and in the direction of Godwin. Then said, "how about freeing your boyfriend tied up in the leaving room before your other boyfriend turns up". Move! Jack Jones added shouting it out loud, quickly he had Godwin untied. Two cars pulled into Godwin’s driveway all Jack Jones wanted now was to be the one to break the story. His journalistic instinct had kicked in. 


He had Godwin sit back, in-pretence as if he was still tied up. Jack Jones had Jennifer open the door (at least that’s the name she gave him on the phone earlier) as would have been expected by Steven, Jack Jones still had the gun pointed at her. He whispered to her as she opened the door "any wrong move trust me, I will blow your brains out, no joke sweetheart".


 Steven walked in arguing as he made his way with the mystery man towing behind him. By now Jack Jones had figured out the mystery man was the one calling all the shoots from his body language. "Steven you have brought all this unto yourself, said the mystery man angrily" Steven looked back at the man. 


The next few minutes the room was filled with gun fire and smoke as Jack Jones went behind the sofa shooting back as he was being shot at. Jack Jones looked up and saw Godwin on the floor, Jack Jones couldn’t tell if Godwin had been shot, one thing for sure he wasn’t moving. 


"Robert" shouted Steven as the mystery man he brought in tried to escape, Robert turned, pointed his gun at Steven and two loud bang bang followed, Steven was dead as he laid in a pool of blood with bullet wounds through his chest. As Jack Jones looked up Robert pointed his gun at him, he pulled the trigger but nothing happened. He had no bullets left,  he turned facing the door to run out. Jack Jones pulled the trigger a flash light came out of the gun followed by a loud bang.


Robert went down on the floor holding his leg "you shot me" he said looking up at Jack Jones, Jack Jones smiled back at him. Godwin the magician, had just come back from the dead. He got up brushed his trousers off any debris that cuddled him with freight as he went down for cover  and then he asked "is it over". Jack Jones  laughed out loud. Jennifer had been shot in the arm and she lay there bleeding "it is over"  Jack Jones said 


Jack Jones, went towards Jennifer, gave her a helping hand to seat up, Jack Jones sat in the sofa still holding the gun with it warm mouth piece sending a sensation through his leg, where the gun made contact with his flesh, it felt good. Feeling something after all the shock from the near death experience which had just taken place was a joy. 


Godwin let himself go and fell into his favourite chair. He looked at Jack Jones and then he said "this chair is now going to be priceless". ‘Jennifer right?’ Jack Jones asked, she looked looked up "are you going to tell me what all this was about" the only one she held loyalty for, was Steven and he lay dead in the room shot by the very man who got them involved. Like an open tap the whole story came out of her.


First to get the story, Jack Jones felt good as a journalist his biggest story yet. The blue light from the police car came flashing from outside as armed policemen went rushing in "too late" Jack Jones said as he dropped the gun on the floor and rested his head on the sofa. 


The next morning Jack Jones sat in his living room having a cup of tea. The paper boy on his round had just dropped The Daily Sunset paper and Jack Jones' dog was sat at the front door barking away...."Shut up Chico"  Jack Jones went past him and grabbed the paper. On the front page was a big picture of Jack Jones with a passport size photo of the Kidnappers and Robert.


 It read the "HERO JOURNALIST" Jack Jones sat down next to his cup of tea and read the article with his name written below as the author Jack Jones. It read Robert Church a one-time business tycoon and a philanthropist has been trafficking drugs with  a high profile drug-lord, in an effort to stop the story from breaking he kidnapped an investigative journalist Jack Jones, things got out of hand when his hunch men decided to make extra money on  ransom, before killing the journalist Mr. Jack Jones.


The phone started ringing Jack Jones placed the news paper on the coffee table. "Hello Jack Jones I have got a great story for you" come on give me a day to rest, he replied as he rushed upstairs to get ready for work, on the next big story.

Beneath Chile I Breathe

Depth of earth, as canopy over me..
Deep beneath Chile, I breathe...
The sun's burns, can not reach my soul here..


While oven's heat, is felt like sauna..
Fortune  and lust, are now entangled ..
As with the air I breathe on bites, in blocks..
Left,  prioritising rethinking, in measures..


Did I say to love, for your love my vows...
Bones I did pick, with phantom rage..
Puff!, vanquished from emotions feel..
Like it never was before, in amnesia 


I did confess and make a comrade, my priest..
He looks desperate, awaiting his turn too..
I will lay a crown of ring on loves finger..


I will lay doubting hearts to rest ..
You are my only Mona Lisa..
And say these three words, from heart..
That wobbles her knees with joy..
"I love you"
And mean it, to have said it so..


I will give V signs, to eyes that broadcast
I will sing an anthem and pledge..
Allegiance to the very earth..
That consumes me..


My country, my people, my land..
And mother earth will know..
To spit me out of her belly,..
For I don't belong, in such depths yet..


I will sweat a bucket and grow wild beard..
When finally, I reach earth's surface..
Like the mole that mines the earth..
Building molehills, to stand on as victory stands..


I will breathe like never before..
Only to have seen trees again..
The breeze and smell of love of nature in my nostrils.. 
And a hug, that have been starved from lovers grip for so long..

Second Life

Escape into illusion..

Psychedelic tripping, fantacy..

And we are all addicts, infused..

Pills, needles, books, fitnessfirst..

Key pads as entry..

Spare me the preaching..

The wolves sings louder..

For all to hear in the midnight ears..

And wear wolfs escape..

The torture of weakness..

After transformation in full moon..

And vampire are iconic..

In the eyes of the preacher's child..

In twilight zones..

Reality is a bore and second life..

Becomes paradise..

Key pads as entry..
Second life, as escape..
Escape into illusions..

Jack Jones IJ (Part 3 - 4) Novel

INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST

The back-doors were locked, and Jack Jones was sitting in the back seat. Mark looked back through the car mirror at Jack Jones, sat in the back seat, Mark pushed the policeman's lifeless body over. He said something in a foreign language in the two-way radio he had. Jack Jones knew Mark would have by now told the others he has found him. Mark turned the car around, didn’t even look at Jack Jones a second time and drove off.


Jack Jones  had that feeling of a child who has just been told off, after he had been caught with his two hands in between his legs. He sat quietly being driven back to the place he had spent all night running from. There was no escape, not for the second time, once they get back into the house. Jack Jones locked behind a car driven by a guy who is prepared to kill him by noon.


Jack Jones looked down almost accepting defeat, then he saw a police batten on the floor, he looked up again, saw a big grin on Mark's face, happy to be the one who caught him and the stories that would follow, Mark telling the others in detail summary. The police officer lay lifeless beside Mark in the front passenger seat. Jack Jones had to act fast, he thought, without hesitating he picked up the stick and connected straight with the back of Mark's neck, Mark lost control of the steering wheel, as his head slowly rested on the steering wheel and his feet firmly on the accelerator paddle. 


The police car was now moving fast around the bend with no one driving it. Jack Jones was still locked  at the back of the car, he laid back on the seat and with both legs smashed the  back window into shatter.  He picked Mark's two-way radio and came out thumbing on the floor before finally settling. The car smashed the ballad and went over into the valley. It caught fire before exploding. At the edge of the road Jack Jones stood, looking down at the exploding car the shock woke him up, along came his lost memories.


Jack Jones heard Steven and the others on the two-way radio, the burning car had just given them his location, it was likely that would bring them to his location.  Jack Jones started descending back on the road the car had just come from, looking out cautiously for the others. He hoped he did come across another car, but none came. After a few miles of walking  Jack Jones was now standing in front of a roadside restaurant. The name Godwin had sprung to mind along with his house telephone number "0117 555-345". Jack Jones asked one of the waitress if they had a phone and she pointed out to the direction of the bar. 


Jack Jones called the number, a lady answered the phone, she had a foreign accent, but not like that of what Jack Jones knew Godwin's girlfriend had, more similar to the kidnappers he thought. Jack Jones asked her, if that was Godwin's house, not sure if he had called the wrong number. Jack Jones knew Godwin had a girlfriend but she was Hungarian. And as the girl answered -"yes"-, Jack Jones asked who she was. She answered "I am his girlfriend". 


She asked where Jack Jones was calling from, just then he hanged up the phone, he went back into the restaurant and everyone seems to have disappeared. Outside stood Steven with the other kidnappers. The waitress, he spoke with earlier on, was pointing towards his direction speaking to Steven. 


Jack Jones quickly went back to the phone in the restaurant, but it was dead, the line had been cut. Something told Jack Jones, he was in for a long run, he thought to himself. On the two-way radio Jack Jones heard Steven say "he is in the building",  Jack Jones looked  for a window to climb out off. Unfortunately all the windows downstairs were facing an open area quickly, Jack Jones climbed up the stairs, there was a window with a tree just outside it, he climbed out of the window unto the tree, something he used to do when he was a little boy in the farmhouse where he grew up.


A car was parked just below the tree, Jack Jones climbed down slowly, he got into the car looked out no one saw him, as he got in. He hot-wired the car and quickly sped off "thank God I got no one killed this time" - Jack Jones mumbled. Again the chasing started, Steven and the two others had two cars not far behind, chasing him. Jack Jones was doing 90 miles an hour on a small country road with sharp bends and high hedges all around the road. The road was too small for two-way traffic,  he had his fingers crossed hoping there wouldn't be any cars coming from the opposite direction as he drove on.


 Steven and the others were now gaining ground, the back windscreen went smashing up as Jack Jones heard gunshots. He ducked still driving and moved into a very narrow side park as a lorry blew it`s loud horn heading from the opposite direction, seconds later as Jack Jones tried catching his breath with his adrenalin flying off the roof, he heard a loud bang, BOOM. Jack Jones said in reaction"fuck that didn’t sound good". He still wished the guys had survived the accident as he pulled out to have a look. The second kidnapper’s car with Steven in it was cutting through the hedges. Jack Jones was off again, took a sharp right then a left,  found a hiding spot and reversed into it for cover.


Their car went speeding by, Jack Jones decided to follow from a distance, now the tables had been turned. "Let’s see where these guys go" Jack Jones said, as he followed. After driving in circles for a while, he drove towards Bristol, seeing the signs for Bristol, Jack Jones became more confident, he gambled thinking they were heading to Godwin's house, he took a short cut he knew to Godwin’s house, parked the car a few streets away.


 For a second Jack Jones wanted to call the police but he didn’t have all the facts and the police would probably get killed, just like the first one if the kidnappers hear the siren of the police car he thought. As Jack Jones walked closer to Godwin’s house, he thought to himself "what on earth are you doing mate". Jack Jones jumped Godwin’s back fence sneaked into the house from outside, he peeked through the back window. Godwin was sat with his hands tied behind his back.


A few years back when Jack Jones joined the newspaper, the young journalists were taken on a streetwise self defence class. He always thought, it was a waste of time coming out with bruises all over, but that is where Jack Jones had learnt how to pick a lock. Gently tweaking away in the back door with a piece of metal, lying around.  For the first time since this all started, he had a smile on his face, far from the situation being over though.


After tweaking on the lock for a while, the back door opened, Jack Jones crept in slowly almost crawling on the floor. He lifted his head up to see how close he was to jump. As Jack Jones went up, his shoulders knocked a saucepan on the kitchen table. It wobbled a bit then fell down; damn! Jack Jones had to move, he quickly crawled to the other side of the kitchen, a cupboard was opened just big enough for Jack Jones to fit in. Just then a woman walked into the kitchen, through the cupboard door Jack Jones could see a 9mm pistol with a silencer.

Jack Jones IJ (Part 2 - 4) Novel

INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST

Jack Jones could only see a meter ahead of him, the dogs were getting closer and so were the kidnappers. "John", - Jack heard one shout out, - "move down to the left, I think I saw a movement there". The professionalism of the kidnappers faded away, as day became of dawn and tables turned, with adrenaline kicked in, they chased Jack Jones down the hill, this gave him confidence. Suddenly he was running faster and faster. "Mark where the fuck are you?" Jack heard from a distance as they kept running after him. 


The gushing sound of unmistakeable waterfalls, from a not so far distance, meant he could lose the dogs if only he could get to the water. In a short distance Jack Jones was at the edge of the waterfalls, it looked steep he thought to myself lamenting on whether to jump. Jack had finally managed to create some distance between where he was and the kidnappers.


It was all confusing to him, how he ended up in the room. Last Jack Jones remembered he was knocking on a door in Swindon to cover a story, that had just been leaked to him, it was going to be his big story, his big break, the one to get him noticed. Jack Jones remembered knocking on the door of 28 Downend Street-, nothing after that, but to wake up, sat in a basement in the middle of nowhere with four kidnappers, heavily armed now chasing him.


It was clear, these guys meant business and the only thing standing in their way was his will to live. The odds were against Jack Jones, even with his willingness to live; six against one counting the dogs as well. Not to talk of the guns and night visions glasses these guys had. The barking started again then Jack Jones heard a gunshot, he knew he had to jump off the edge. Jack Jones went with his eyes closed. The water felt cold, soon he was swimming up onto the surface. Jack Jones hid under the rocks of the waterfalls, a relief that the dogs cant track his scent any-more.


He felt tired and hungry. To get out of this predicaments he had to think fast. What was the big story all about he wondered. “£100,000 ransom money, where am I and who is the mystery guy calling all the shots”. These guys seemed to have a military background and looked well prepared. His memory felt a bit faded a little spot on his arms revealed, what he had suspected, had happened. Jack Jones had been drugged, he couldn’t even make out what day it was. The good news so far, was, he knew he was still in the country from what he had seen on the TV in the hideout house.


Early morning, the birds started singing, that woke him up. Surprisingly he had a very deep sleep. It was far from being safe, not knowing exactly where he was. The light he saw could be at any distance, and there was no immediate sign of civilisation around him. Jack Jones heard voices again the kidnappers had caught up with him. He looked through the waterfalls and saw them searching tracks for his footstep trials. This time the Four kidnappers had their masks off and he could see their face.


"Mark", - one called out, then Mark turned, now Jack Jones knows who Mark is; "Look behind the waterfalls" he added. 'OK Steve' replied Mark,  slowly Jack Jones moved to the opposite side of the direction Mark was coming from. Jack Jones couldn’t find a place safe enough to hide any more, and Mark was getting closer. Jack Jones jumped out, from behind the waterfall into the river, the dogs started barking again. 


Shots were now being fired at him in the river,  he dived down and could see the bullets coming at him in the water...  Jack Jones swam fast, and went further down in the river. He heard a splash, there was someone in the river with him now, but he couldn’t tell which one of the kidnappers it was, who ever it was, he was gaining ground.


Jack Jones jumped out at the river bank, headed with speed into the forest. After a while running without a look back he heard cars passing by, he quickly made his way towards the road. Jack Jones felt a sigh of relief, seeing a police car coming towards him. he jumped onto the road, waving his hand "stop stop stop" with desperation he yelled. The police car  came to a stop with a screeching sound, burning his tyres, Quickly Jack Jones tried forcing his way into the car. 


The doors were locked, he shouted out at the policeman "I am being chased by a group of kidnappers please let me in." The policeman opened the door and Jack Jones quickly jumped into the car. Just then Mark came out from nowhere had a silencer on his gun. The window of the driver's side of the police car shattered into pieces. The policeman, fell into the passenger seat before he could even say a word into the police radio.

Jack Jones IJ (Part 1 - 4) Novel

INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST

Jack Jones sat in a cold room  facing the small window south of the room, that brought little light in, as he watched the occasional shadows of birds flying by. Sudden movements under the door way followed by faint echoes from stranger's voices heard, he could make out,  there was a struggle going on.


Jack Jones sat in thought, trying to familiarise himself with his present seating, after a while of stretching his very ear loop to eaves drop, still with bemusement hanging on his face,  fear and trepidation laying suit, suddenly all the voices he was hearing went quite. A phone rang and then a lone voice from a distance was heard, no names used, all he could make out was 'yes sir', 'consider it done sir'.


Footsteps moved closer to the door and a voice shouted out, "put your bloody mask on before you go in there". Then another replied, ‘who cares he is dead come tomorrow anyway’. Jack Jones' heart beat,  went into a hist as the footsteps moved closer. The door handle was held from the outside, it moved down, with a push on the door, in came a 6ft 9 inches structure of a man. He had his face covered with a black mask, making him look more terrifying than any boggy man Jack Jones had ever seen in nightmares before.


"What the fuck are you looking at?" asked the man. Quickly, Jack Jones looked away, staring down on the old concrete floor, concentrating on an old damp stained shaped in abstract, left for the imagination to make of it what it chooses to,   after he caught the strangers darkened eyes through the mask.


He grabbed Jack Jones by the head, passed a phone to him and shouted out in command, "once the phone has been answered, say hi Dad and nothing else, or else you are dead". Jack Jones waited for a second or two, it felt like forever, then he heard a voice ‘hello’  he replied "hello"  he heard a voice shouting in the background, it sounded like that of his Mother, ‘Son son oh son are you alright?’ The masked man with deep intent looked at him, Jack Jones could feel the strange looking man's eyes, drilling straight through him with anger. He replied "yes Mother",  then the kidnapper snatched the phone from Jack Jones's shaky hands.


The strange man, walked straight out, he slammed the door behind him, Jack Jones overheard as the man said to another "stay  on guard" his footsteps moved further and further away from the basement room, where Jack Jones was held. Soon the rain came, the floor started getting wet as the room became colder and darker. Jack Jones began dozing off, after  fighting his whole body to stay alert, he lost the battle with the emotional and physical excursion that besieged him.


A silent voice in his head rang out, so loud it felt like a siren saying ‘come tomorrow he is dead’. Jack Jones opened his eyes in a state of shock from sleep, almost jumping out of his body, as he remembered what he had heard one of the kidnappers say earlier on. He went towards the window tried pushing and pulling it, but nothing happened.


Jack Jones could barely see anything  the room was now completely dark, close to pitch black. He slowly made his way to the door, with the help of the little ray of light that was coming in from under the door way. He placed his ears closer to the door,  minutes later he heard someone snoring. Jack Jones held the door handle, pushed it down slowly. One of the kidnappers was sitting on a chair next to the door, fast asleep.


Jack Jones looked around and saw a staircase, slowly he climbed up the stairs. there was a figure sitting in another room,  facing the television. A report of his kidnapping had just been announced and a ransom of £100,000 with a deadline had just been asked,  from The Daily Sunset newspaper where he worked. He moved on quickly telling himself “ move, before you get caught”.


The back-door was opened in the kitchen. In the dark compound Jack Jones, could see the sparkle of a cigarette, as a third kidnapper pulled on it, with every inch of his breath. The third Kidnapper was far from the door and had his back facing the door. Jack Jones sneaked out not knowing where he was. Looking over the horizon, he saw the city light. He headed out of the compound towards the light, with hopes of getting help there, once he made it out.


As he moved carefully through the woods dancing around the sharp thorns, sticking out gagging for his blood, a dog started barking. The third kidnapper smoking outside turned and saw Jack Jones. He shouted in a foreign language as the other two came running out, they all had guns and a fourth kidnapper, up on the first floor of the house, shouted out, "get the night-vision glasses and search for him, Fuck! stupid fools" he added.


The dog was still barking at Jack Jones' direction, as he laid low under some bushes. He had to move as he was still quite close to be shot at. Now he was caught between a rock and a hard place. It was clear if he didn’t move soon, he could be caught and if he moved, he could be shot. Jack Jones had to make a decision, he jumped out of the bush, to make his great escape, by then he  realized they were on a hill. Jack Jones started running down the hill.


One of the kidnappers saw him, as he came out of  hiding in an effort to escape, the guy shouted out, for the others. This time Jack Jones could make out it was an Eastern-European accent which sounded like Russian. But to his uneducated ears of the dialect  and language from that region, all sounded similar. The dogs were let out, two German-shepherds, the hunt was on and Jack Jones was the hunted. He started running down the woodlands descending the hill at a very fast pace, ignoring the thorns from the wild bushes around, that went on a feast on his lanky legs, arms and face.

My Avatar

I know, when I look around..
Like the seashore knows, to show it's  face..
When the tidal waves, draws back..


I know as fact, 
As breath knows, it is to life..
And hearts can not miss, 
Too much of a two step..
In skipping beating rhythm.


I just know as fact, 
This seems too surreal..
Did I sleep and wake to walk..
Or did I wake, to sleep in walk, in second life..


Reality and illusions, 
Caught in cat fights..
Of tags of wars, 
And borders are left blurry..
In lanes, sat in-between train tracks on rails..


Scify and wifi, seems to be connecting the dots..
Wires in tell, tell signs, are no longer visible..
Is this real, real as in pinch and bleed..


Or has dreams besiege my day..
While revolutions, evolutions of silicon..
Breeds illusions in silicon valleys..


And friends,
Are of a thousand in avatar..
But only a handful, dine with me in person..


I know when I look around..
I know as confusing fact..
While I play poker, pulling poker faces
With my avatar..

To Love n Trust

When windows shutter..
In glass houses; freak storm!..
By the force on breeze..
And rose gardens are...
Left deserted without a trim..
Thorns on rose that scar..


When breath is deprived of the living..
And crabs do the walk on, walk by..
Without shells, exposed to the heavens..

Close your eyes, and let go, to safety..
 I will distance your fall from the floor..
Trust me!...

When affection is given;..
But certitude, faith, believe is left void..
And golden fishes are taken out of waters..
Deprived of swim, "save your fins",
By those that profess, to them as pets
With care, with love, protection in OTT..


When a hug is given so tightly..
To have drained the last air,..
Out of the recipient of passion..
You took my breath away 


When admiration..
Turns into stare gaze and stalk..
And discomfort becomes..
Of the one, so admired..


When doubt, paranoia takes centre stage..
In precedents followed by suspicions..
And love is filled with mistrust in residence..
Of love den 


Watch a candle light, tenderly..
Placed in a closed jar,..
To stop the winds,  from blowing it dead..
Slowly die out in extinction..
Deprived of oxygen..
Is to have love without trust..

On A Bull Run

Washing powder, wheels do spin..
White as snow, in cloths to be worn..
But not the beast that awaits, with poofs..
Ready steady, to pounce on go..

Do a dear a female deer..
Run, run, a bull comes, round the hill with rage..
Did I hear go, like a gun shot, trigger, paw!..
To mark start lines on bull runs..


Run, run, run,..
There is a fire on the mountain..
And it burns in the eyes, rage..
Of the bull that cometh..


Why wear white, in ceremonial attires..
And stand in the face, of a double edged rage..
And on peekaboo, he just called your bluff..


Red marks, on white cloths worn..
Marks out, points of impact zones..
Like dots of darts played..


If you make it to the end, on roads..
Take a sharp turn, by the side of walks..
A deep breathe, that follows..


And hopefully raging bulls..
Would have missed banzai, by a blink..
To be your saving grace


If you make it to the end..
Have a drink on me, on my tab..
Sing aloud, drink some more..


Hug a friend, and strangers too..
Next year, we will do it, all over again..
It is  just for the blood that runs in man

The Drinking Pub House

I am the brick, that has been named..
Along the alley, to the last corner stands..
There, right there, I claim my patch..
Set myself, stands, stages set, a coozy hut..


Wine, beer, cider, whisky, nuts and crisps in huts..
Smoky zones, now set out side, the corner, named..
My banquet laid, for wandering souls' stands..
To find a refuge, rescued here on my patch..


Escaped men, from domestic chores' patch..
Escaped men, from troubled minds' hut..
Escaped men, of destitute hunger's named..
Escaped men, to find their boys voice stands..


All scream out, loud at transmitting box stands..
22 men, seen on playground pitch, patch..
Right here, screened live, in my hut 
They watched and roared, characters rightly named..


Juke box plays, gives dancing feet, a partner calling, named..
An eruption of ballads, sung here on my stands..
Fuelled by a happy lico, drunk here on my patch..
On my last bell, ring, rang, ding dong, ringoo, in my hut..


Staggered men, fall out, in line, out of my hut..
Till tomorrow, when I open up again, my stage named..
I am the brick, that has made it's patch..
Here I stand, here, where men, drink from my stands..

I am the brick, that has been named..

Along the alley, to the last corner stands..

There, right there, I claim my patch..

And set myself, a coozy hut..

In Last Rites

He said all words..
Till there was none left to say..
Watched red pour on the soil..
Till all was left cream-son..


And shouted out..
So loud, he lost his voice on revenge..
When finally he said in regret..


He lost his voice ..
So no one heard him say..
So no one heard him say..


If the beginning tells stories..
Of chaos and carnage..
And man is born with a mothers pain..
Where lies paradise on this here earth..


To have heard him mumble..
Retrieve, reform, refrain..
But in what context..
On choices made to hear him say..


And the dead regret in deeds..
And the living call them legends..
And pour more blood on soil..
Till the whole earth was drenched..


Where is paradise on earth..
Of the stories that got told..
Of the comfort and safety ..
Of the world we want for our children..
Where is paradise, here on earth..

Brizz Bristol

On an island in the west country,..
In the Queen's land, where Black-beard,..
Once played on, as a young child..

And called his home, among the contours...
Chained men and tobaccos..
Once brought fortune lust..

Bridges were built, and train tracks laid..
By the man Brunel, who wore as long a hat..
Ships and cathedrals, hippodrome and colston halls ..

Bansky's graffiti;
Treasured marks on walls to display..
And stone-henge laid a stone throw away..

Roman baths, in nearby Bath..
And underground passage, of tunnels laid..
For walks, wine cellars and rivers paths, ..

Horse mountain and Welsh borders..
Sat not far away on looks
If adventure should take you a day trip
 
St. Pauls carnival, harbour festivals..
Balloon festival and beer festivals
Kite festivals down at ashton gates..

And Glastonbury;
Oh the biggest of its kind, in festival stands ..
Not in too far, a distance away to reach..

But for one thing, the one thing
That makes Brizz so special..
Would be sanctuary, it provides for lost souls..

This here laid land, a place like home..
Gulliver did be so proud, to call his home..
Away from home, as I do, away from home..