Sunday, July 14, 2013

The Biggest Aspidistra In The World


3/3 Clearly a slow and quiet night somewhere...





Stillness stirred the aching room
An ageless plant of thorny sides
Bows down before the window.
Posters still upon the wall
And music plays in mortal whim
Whispers through the sorrow
Ticking for its own redress
A clock reminds the silence
Listen to my death call.
Mumblings in the distance
A voice conveys its message
Witness its undressing?
Creaks in lifeless union
It's old and past its best
We grok in timeless sympathy
Vaguely through the nite-light
Perceive a growing movement
Feared in its own promise.

© 2013 S Evans All Rights Reserved

Is This Know Good or Elsie?


2/3 Expansive Jan...


Onesupponatyme
I was warking in a naughtily deception
When allofasudden 
A fly landed alooft mefut
Sow I stud onit.

"Ark" sedder lentle vice
"Whatever did you do that for?"

I looked down and 
There was another bleeting lentle fly
Standing next to its ded dad.

"Whatever did you do that for?"
It sed once more for the second tyme.

I looked down at this parletic lentle culture
And crushed its blubby lentle brains in.

© 2013 S Evans All Rights Reserved


A Knowing Wink.


1/3 Found these next three in an old box maybe from the 70's or the 80's and two of them a bit Lennonesque I like to think...


'Alf'n Ear


One day Arthur sat glumly on his stool. 
Arthur knew how to brood.
And though many things came upon his avenues,
None could cheer him nor snap him from his branch.

"Oh my" said Arthur almost silently to his self while sitting there, 
"Dear oh dear" he mumbled glubly.

Days past and nights too and passers by the score.
A friendly earwig had a word for Arthur, so he crawled up where he must.
"Psst" he said "a word in your ear my fred". (for he had a chill)

"Oh dear" said Arthur itchily as he stifled a sneeze 
"ave you 'eard?" said weary wig.
And the two freds felt silent.

© 2013 S Evans All Rights Reserved

Monday, May 20, 2013

"The Man From The Future"



Another dad related idea. He mentioned this guy to me a few times latterly. The idea that someone, maybe a time traveller from the future could come back and sort out all our problems. What a spoilt race we might become, god knows.
















Who’d like to meet the man from the future,
Who can remake the world however it suits you?

He can step back in time and turn water to wine,
He’s the saviour of souls, the maker of goals 
He's the author of all that’s Divine.

The stalker of death, the giver of breath, 
The angel of light, the path through the night, 
The answers to all of your prayers.

He’s the man from the future in the spaceship that toots you
As it slips through the eye of a needle.

He’s the impossible dream who makes the impossible seem 
Like the truth’s at the top of the stairs.

He’s the giver of hope who meets out the rope
And he dangles his noose from the steeple.

The pauser of thought whose will can’t be bought, 
The seer of all that is seen.

He’s waiting for you to discover him too
But to walk one step in his tired old shoe 
Puts you back at the back of the queue for the queue.

The journey ahead, like the journey behind 
Is mapped in the twinkling stars.

A flickering light, a mortal whim, 
The moon jumps up and the sun grows dim.

The hope for the world in the beat of a heart, 
A child cries out for its mother.

Chilled by the wind as the angels depart 
And with only a shroud for a cover.


© 2013 S Evans All Rights Reserved

Monday, January 21, 2013

Climb Upon The Moon




A passing thought left for a passing friend...

I thought I saw a wabbit
Looking up at me
Twitter was its habbit
There for all to see
But the wabbit had a trick or two hidden up its sleeve
And one day it disappeared beneath the ground
Without a by your leave.







I went to climb upon the moon
And crossed the sky on silver spoon
I wandered wide and far and near
And looked upon our world so dear
But don’t look up at me...
There's very little there to see
And don't look down on fallow ground
Where mystery sulks a secret's found
The privilege is not in being
It's in the honour of what you’re seeing
The journey isn't where you go
But all of what you come to know.




© 2012 S Evans All Rights Reserved