(c) Steven Pottle 2007

Wednesday, 27 February 2008

“The and It”

Every word and experience sank deep into my being
Penetrating my every question and then my every reaction
Flowing through my blood, hidden there behind my eyes
Making me the man that I am-
The man that I’ve always wanted to be
And I cannot stop the pictures from forming and so they fight in my brain
Bustling and bullying, impatiently waiting and wanting to escape
Along with the words that tango on the tongue
Before I approve, before I choose to let them loose
Confused by these sentences that tingle on my fingertips
Hurried scribbled notes on tatty receipts and on the backs of envelopes
The inky fingers that print the waiting pages
I am the holder and release of my peace and rages
I am the creature of what begins inside-
So here I am; walking the book I write.

© 2008 Steven Pottle

“Hover In Conscious”

…Like the car lights finding a sudden black spot curve just in time
Like a well thought of loved one safe and wrapped in blankets
Like the worm that finally discovered a wet soil escape in the rain
Like being able to touch the ceiling in a room too small
Like all these years that you’ve been alive and you’ve never seen a real live firefly
Like you can never quite catch the Summer arriving-
You just wake one morning and the sun is constantly shining
With those birds that just need to sing
And you wonder what their songs really mean
Like being happy and in love…
I’m drifting off, falling asleep.

Like owning the newest complete home entertainment system
Like the sensations that the cat is feeling while sleeping on the new speakers
Like having no one sitting in front of you in the cinema
Like having Joe Dallesandro over for dinner
Like telling your crap boss exactly what you think of him
Like blowing up your landlords kitchen on the very day that you are leaving
Like having your ankles high above your head, high in the air-
Feeling and being like a kid again
Only now without the pain…
I’m drifting off, falling asleep.

I’m drifting off again
After my exhausting journey
I’m finally sleeping-
Like a hovercraft resting at the waters edge.

© 2008 Steven Pottle

“The Dove”

You may not believe in peace and love
But it’s all that I wear, it’s all that I’ve got…

Bright before my eyes, pumping in my heart and flows in circles around my arms
I’ll always trust in the gentle and sensitive sides
And I don’t consider these to be a sign of weakness
They are the stronger and they stand and fall by each other
While you hide behind your men in their terror uniforms and death turrets

A frown has engraved my face and it’s too late to turn it around
This confused mug has become all that people see when they look at me
So I smile despite the lines as I never wanted to get old before my time
Though your long lies and quick goodbyes have forced us all to grab for the cage and stay inside
I still look to a time when someone may put down their gun in horror and love the pretty petals of simple flowers

You may call me a foolish sissy or the symbol of a tragic romantic
But when the earth is either burnt to a crisp or over flown with sudden rivers
I’ll go under knowing that one day I may breathe again
I like to think that we always hurt the ones that we really love
And so it’s easier for us to say that we hate rather than to proclaim feelings other than those of pain
You can always press the hand of karma and ask for her forgiveness
So I wish you luck for the future as your past returns to meet her…

You may not believe in peace or love
But it’s all that we need, it’s all that we’ve got.

© 2008 Steven Pottle

"Front Of House"

There’s a party happening right now on the other side of the city
There’s people chatting and clapping, stupid dancing and whispers of a little something naughty a bit later
Their atmosphere travels across the neighbouring rooftops and in a while it tumbles and taps at my bedroom window
Begging me to make an appearance and I was already thinking about just turning up
The invite said 5:30 and it’s already 7 o’clock…
I think that this makes me fashionably late
And I haven’t seen everyone together like this for ages.

Ready in no time and I’m walking through the city back roads
It’s strange but wonderful how everything seems different tonight-
The buildings sideways and above, and the shops all around look another colour
I guess you see something new all of the time
Also the people that pass by me all look like strangers-
Maybe I don’t really know everybody like they say I do
The sky looks different too-
It looks like rain and sunshine mixed together…
So the light is low and bright white and so nothing can be hidden
Each crack and crumble exposed for the world to see
This evening the old city looks completely new to me.

I’m turning down familiar streets that I’ve turned down a million times before
But tonight they are shining and seem to be so beautifully clean
The house is getting closer and I’m getting that feeling in my belly
And so the laughter, fears, tears and butterflies all fight for front of house…
Only a footstep from the front door and I can hear a mixture of funnies, cheers and mumbled voices and glasses being dropped or chinked
I stand and wait for a couple of minutes and I listen
The music is all of my favourites including some hard to find remixes
And I suddenly realise that this party is for me.

Inside their smiles and welcomes are overwhelming and people hugging just too tightly with a warmth that was unexpected but kind of funny
Everyone is here and some that I haven’t seen for years so he must of sent out his cyber spies across all of those friend networking sites
I can’t believe this is all for me and I’m just lost for words as the music comes to a sudden stand still…

“The glasses were raised slowly to the air and speeches that touched my every hair
As the tears welled up and were close to falling I stood and looked into every single face
That’s when I saw that they couldn’t see me and they were just starring into space
I now knew that I had already been here earlier and had just come back for one last look around before I said goodbye…
I smiled helplessly and I foolishly waved as they wished me all the best
And I turned around to look into what I thought was the setting sun, but it was nothing more than the light at the end of my time…”

© 2007 Steven Pottle

“The Train Tracks”

A midnight train slips quickly through the countryside
Bleeding it’s way all along and onwards
Past famous landmarks and known map symbols
Fast cutting trees in seconds
And turning whole cities into blurs and suddens
Creating a way of slicing the moment
But finding small time to stop off now and again-
To let the passengers work or visit.

© 2007 Steven Pottle

"Love Notes"

A love for me
Doesn't have to be remembered every February 14th
It can be celebrated any day you want

A love song to me
Doesn't have to be Number One for Sixteen bloody weeks!!!
It may be the song hanging around a Number Hundred and Three

A lover for me
Doesn't need pearl white smiles and a movie star address
They might be an amateur with walls that wobble

A loving feeling for me
Doesn't have to be the hot strum of a Spanish guitar
It could be the tiny ting of the quiet triangle

A love for me
Doesn't need to be explained or complicated
It could be a feeling that feels just like being in love.

© 2007 Steven Pottle

“Quick, The Dock Leaves!”

Pen inked hands full of reminders and signals
Remember that there are no signposts deep in the jungle
The little nicks on each and every finger that indicate either fighting or trying
And his jeans are too long so they twiddle into every puddle, all of the shit and leaf muddles

Again he falls with bow and arrow taking the aim in spite of the pain and sorrow
As he thuds to the floor, he screams for more as he knows that it’ll all be worth it
Despite all the tears and the horror, he may stumble upon the finding and honour
He’d risk his life and mind because he once knew of love before

You can repair him with medicine so natural that it jumps from the breast
A little heart help required to see him through the worst of his deaths
That tiny bright light that always pulls him through the darkest of paths
A warm hand that reaches beyond the call of duty to soothe and show beauty

Standing tall on the front line with his hand clenched on the left of his chest
His eyes tight shut, hope is his only protection against what ever happens next…
There must be someone, somewhere and so he chances everything to declare:

“They say that the best things in life are free,
So here I am: good for nothing…
Come and find me"

© 2007 Steven Pottle


Sit by the riverside
All film scene and wide
Drawing a love heart in the dust
The stick broke before I could finish it
So I just have to tell you that I love you

Go down to the pebbles
They are there to be pelted
Only then to be flushed away by the boats
You were left empty handed
So I gave you some of mine

Sit by the waterside
Nature is so much greater than me
I was pushed into existing
So I make the most of a situation
By making the best of a life
And I think that you should know that I love you.

© 2007 Steven Pottle

“The Sky At Night”

When the moon is high and it's allowed to shine bright
The highway of the stars are silver in their light
The sky is sometimes clear considering this is rainy Norfolk
But mostly there is just too much light pollution
And so you never get to see the wishes that dart across the night
Which means that we’ll never get to see the big one that’s heading our way…

Inside my house I am hidden in dimmer switches-
I feel that I am cocooned
I know that under a 100 watt you can see the whole of the room
And so I am exposed to what ever wants to get me

So I retire this sofa to go upstairs
I know that love is up there already safe in sleep
"Please cradle me baby in arms and palms"
As good love finally finds these streets calm
And another lullaby says goodbye to the stars in the sky at night.

© 2007 Steven Pottle

“Adios Kansas”

A hand falls by the waist side
Police approach the pavement wide
Cats run for the safety of a parked car
And underneath they hide

A heart failed to keep up the beats
Uniformed feet move in close to the scene
Tapping at a blood stained jumper
Seeing if something still moves under

But he watched his world crumble
The planets humbled
As Hollywood was projected onto the moon
So no more screams from these streets
No more sounds of sudden feet
My best friend has left me all too soon

Now please carry his soul to a nicer place-
One of unbroken sunshine
One with endless funnies
And he’ll feel free to jump into the water there
The sea will be light blue and see through
Just like the sky…

Hope he’ll make some great mates
Hope he’s finally found his Emerald City
Maybe one day I will see him again-
So now I’m looking for my tornado.

© 2007 Steven Pottle


You make me feel the 6 foot man that I am
You make me 9 inches more than I first appear
You are the plans for successful building
You are the foundations that shakes the fear.

You are my twin
You are my best friend
You are a stranger
You are safe and you are danger…

You are the pixilated parts in censorship-
And that mini-second exciting pornographic flick
You are watching patiently for more
You are rewind and you are pause.

© 2007 Steven Pottle

“Here On Earth”

My sisters used to dance the dance of freedom
But then husbands came along and made them forty year old cleaners

They don’t understand the children that they used to be
And tonight at this party they don’t want to move with anyone
So I try to pull them to their shy, tired feet and remind them of their teenage beat
“Because the parties end suddenly
With your hair speckled Grey
Losing another weekend to illness and decay
You’ll look behind and wonder where the road was taking you-
You’ve always hated the phone, but one day it will no longer ring”

With cake in one hand and champagne glass in the other
I shudder to a halt and consider my own years being alive
My Mum used to say, “Fight with who you need to and love whoever needs you”
She is choice wise with her words that still laugh through the best Rum and Coke parties around
Dad was always so moo hearted, but he still stands strong before all my sisters- even the one’s that aren’t naturally his
He breathes a sigh of relief to their streets of terrible fenced in history

Like a weed trying to survive through concrete
It can still grow without raindrops or sunshine
And when the buildings begin to fall
The strangers start to jump
And the undergrounds explode
There at the end is that weed pushing forward while being pleased with it’s root beginnings...

I want to be the one that survives a death before my time
I could be a someone that stretches beyond a dark sky
I would love to be something other than just another birth
I want to be alive with minutes, people and feelings while living here on earth.

© 2007 Steven Pottle

"Half Full"

The tingle of a touch
That ripples through the hairs on an arm
Those smooth arms now resemble chicken skin
They giggle and smile
A shudder of anticipation

They know how they feel
But they enjoy the pretending
The flashing hundred thoughts
They excite, take flight and switch in mid air
Leaving them all silly for a second

Who’s eyes were first?
Those blue pupils slid upwards so quickly-
Knowing that confrontation says everything
We agree silently with a wink or light twinkle
Raise an eyebrow to close all questions

Together we see in the night
And the dark gets involved and gently leans against the window
As the street lamps outside path off into the future
I turn back to you with serene, silent happiness…
Bringing tonight to a close and all hopes have overflowed.

© 2007 Steven Pottle

“Shadow People”

You deal with the innards of machines
I love and hate the human emotions
You may think you see me out of the corner of your eye-
The part where the blood and the lashes lay

But I move in a different speed
So are you faster or slower than me?

© 2007 Steven Pottle

"The Beginning...Or The End?"

"The Beginning...Or The End?"
(c) Steven Pottle 2007