Turquoise Monster

Ruffles, feathers, crests and crowns
Beneath it all a chicken’s found
But what is a chicken when it is plucked?
A toothless dino –
No wonder you like it dead and stuffed

Old sinew, old bone
Leather wrinkled, shrink wrapped
Flapping, sagging
Just bags of desiccation
Flesh on bones, soft as down
Veins mapping
Time skitters
Slips past
Unaware

A recording of my song Hey You!

Spider spider on the wall
How very quickly you appear to crawl

Legs in series spiked and barbed
With fangs of poison you are armed

Deadly to those tiny pray
Injected, digested whilst they lay

Spun in a cocoon of silk
A late lunch of insect milk

Spider spider on the wall
What’s the eight eyed monster rule?

“Catch a fly,
Spin him up
Then all day
You’ll have good sup”

Spider spider on the wall
Who’s scares my dad most of all?

Red and white striped
Flying smooth over
Washed hills
Pilot dreaming
Of new days
Peaked cap
Climbs more aloft

The butterfly catcher had death in his eyes
The butterfly catcher never stopped to ask why
He pinned and staked and labeled each one
When asked he would claim he was just having fun
Though no smile ever touched his lips
No affection came, no lovers kiss
For he had endlessly watched the fly
And knew that we all just had to die.

A recording of my song Summer Sun.

Encased in stone, the bones of the lizard lies
Weathered and worn, preserved but millennia dead

Face in stone
Carved and craved
Face of curve
Angel in jade

Relic in torch light
Nothing but fragments
Held by byssal threads
Detritus floats
Within the beam
The diver explores
A mystery of the mud