With no tick to follow no tock
There’s no time to bury the clock
No sound and no seconds pass
Silent underneath the old greying grass
Look now, but nothing to hand
No force to stop our falling in the sand
No face, no clue, no trace
Blessed and released with no numerals to grace
No chime to reminisce
A speed of race that you can’t miss
As definite as an everlasting rock
Time to decide to bury the clock
We unsurely ran, senses firing and offsetting strobes towards a glittering shawl, set low around a sightlessly curved neck of the horizon. Coastline on our feet, a burning beach on our soles, to the water then, for our souls.
In the confidential fridge
the milk
so old it began to feel the cold
and ability to think
how could it?
exterior to the suck-less door
stale life
weightless dust
a curdled household
Second picture in my legends series.
Acrylic and marker pen.
Any New Order Fans out there?
The night yawned
With a toothy mouth of streetlights
Then mysteriously they disappeared
Then the day dawned
My first in my legends and inspiration series.
Marker and Acrylic Pen
If you fail to listen
eventually you have to understand
For the embarrassment of not getting it
gets way out of hand
And If you see people laughing
and you missed the bloody joke
laugh along like there’s a gas
because you’ll find it very woke
My old band’s single from lost album Dreaming of Roads, soon to be lost no more when released on the 28th Feb 2026. A mere 23years later it is very much better late than never.
Miss B Communication
Never answers
To Mr N O’time
As he
Loses track of Miss C again and again
Those unreliable fuckers!
I Eat Let.ers 