Greenbelly

A Greenbelt for my greenbelly,
Allow it to ripen, cant eat no greenberry,
12 months to wait till I can get greensmelly,
Greensmelt and greenmerry,
I can use my greenbelt, to whip into them,
How I greenfelt, I was green, keen and greendealt,
The perfect hand,
At Greenbelt

Till then I'll just have tighten my,
Greenbelt.

Piggy Torch (An ode to Claires torch)

Piggy torch, O piggy torch,

There's no need to feel inferior,
Even though you couldn't light,
The smallest tent interior,


Piggy torch, O piggy torch,
You have such great responsibility,
To shed the light of truth,
Onto a dim point of utility,


Piggy torch, O piggy torch,
You're not to blame, what can I say?
Night is not your medium,
You work better in the day,


And besides, O pretty pink piggy torch,
You've much to deal with, caught in the middle,
Between such a daunting task,
And a woman who likes a fiddle,
A shameless piggy fiddle.

Ministry

Your ministry is not chemistry,
Nor alchemy or sorcery,
It is not fakery nor forgery,
Not trickery nor mimicry,

It's not intelligence,
Nor is it your 50 cents,
Not your pound of flesh,
Not indulgence for your interests.

Not a means of gaining praise,
Not a passing phase, to fill some days,
It is not for you to fill your pockets as you tread the grain,
I'ts not for you, I will say it again,

It is not,
For you.

Your ministry,
Is service.
All the rest,
Is worthless.

My Catalan Angels

My Catalan Angels are broken,
As is my love with the only one,
Who would get this love token,
Referred to, as the golden paint's gone,
The words of the song are not sung,
Nor spoken.
Honeymoon Souvenirs
From when my love had just awoken,
Plaster of Paris from the plastered in Barca,

They hung on walls of our habitations,
In the first flat, as concession, the pride of place,
Over the years, they were relegated from walls to corners,
And then finally drowned in the other ornamentation on the book case,

When I left,
I half expected you to fight me for them,
But I had not read enough into their slow decline from favour,
Had not realised that I had projected our shared love,
Onto the Cherubs,
Their child like naivety and joyous expressions,
Like my own simple trusting nature,
Were just begging to be slapped.

When I asked If you minded if I took them,
I don't even think they merited a shrug,

And now their decapitated, crumbled remains,
Legs gone, Wings clipped,
Plaster exposed and gold paint chipped,
Hang like a grotesque trophy on my walls,
Of a love that's fallen asleep,
And will never cease from counting sheep,
And I am still attached,
To a choice of purchase,
I convinced myself we had both made.

simple faith

I want to be clever,
To work this out,
To arrive at the answer,
To irradicate doubt,

I want to get it right,
To tick all the boxes,
But my tick wont fit,
And that's what the shock is.

The 't' wont be crossed,
The 'i' wont stay dotted,
The ink like blood has spilt,
My mental page is blotted.

I cant unsee what,
I've seen from a boy,
I cant ignore the feelings,
I chose to employ,

The twin hounds of faith,
And doubt, have grabbed one leg each,
They're tearing my trousers,
With razor sharp teeth,

And as they pull,
And fight for my jeans,
It seems what's neglected,
Is the Man underneath.
And I come to realise,
That it's not faith but beliefs,
That I can shed these trousers,
And walk off in my briefs,

Hand in hand with my saviour.


This simple act of faith,
Is a complex act of trust,
A resigning of self,
But an all-essential must.