The forth glass of wine

This is the newest page of many where I find myself once again writing in life about life...

Can the machine be broken? I don’t know, but I would break it to see what it is made of; but I think I would find nothing much there but the workings of some crack0pot idea.
But enough of that, there are poems I’ve forgotten how to resist when I’m almost tripping where I rust most often.
I was kind of high and looking down to see where I’d lost my-self, so long ago that I missed the train and had to sit on the platform chairs until they threw me out into the rain

Someone gave me a pizza, such a monster; I had to light the fires twice I tell you, and strong arm the competition out of the way.
And now I’m on my fourth glass of wine
I suddenly realised I was growing muscles in unexpected places and so asked for my strongest bow and a very straight arrow.
A servant on the wrong side of where I was began to whisper in my ear about coins in the grass that were glittering and asking to be picked up if I could but die before the next rains came to wash it all away.
I mooched home slowly about this and was on my third drag when out of nowhere came the cause of it all and saved me again until I felt like a lost coin in the garden and laughing in the grass…

How do you know that the lesser is not the better of the evils you have in mind?
Maybe this is an unholy question that breezes in from beyond your comprehension to say something you haven’t got around to yet; or maybe it’s just a snake in the grass. If it’s the eleventh hour then maybe you should take heed…
Around about an extraordinary hour later the fire was blazing and found me still wrestling with the machine…
The machine has learnt my ways and plays the songs I can’t forget to remind me I’ve forgotten too much. And then, as I arose from a stupor I’d fallen into and ran for the door I noticed box 20 winking at me with things it wanted to say to me; but I knew there was no way back so I carried on and escaped outside into the night.

Some people are so sad they scream at the dark side and block it like it’s something they have to escape from laughing in the grass that’s knocked them sideways out of their lives to live somewhere else for a while.
I wondered if I was one of them.
This idea burnt holes all around me like minefields to fall into.
With no one but me to show me the error of my ways I loaded up on goodies until my eyes shook in the dust, and surrounded by holes everywhere I looked.
Does your image do you well?
Do your footprints move the dust?
Are you smiling now?
Have I your trust?
Am I some kettle to be boiled?
It doesn’t matter, the leaves turn green next Saturday…
Wait for me there
And I’ll come to you, laughing in the grass…

In the silence I heard my name being called:
And who are you, said a little birdie, whistling and nesting on my shoulder waiting to come in.

I am but an old grasshopper, so don’t bring me down with sorrow; but, what have you got on your mind?
Do you feel like an unmitigated fool a la trollop?
Did I save all my rent for this I replied to bring me down?
As I was farting away in the dust and waiting for liftoff I thought about raising the temperature a degree or two but gave up after my wings fell off and I had to retire and fell into crepitude, where I had to take stock of my own fire and dilute it or feed it some more to keep it going.

Curiously, and not a moment too soon I found myself still laughing in the grass at such a mad world all around me.
Whew, don’t we so easily get caught in any moment not ours?
There is nothing more to sit and listen to than this: that the Earth is a rock and we are on it.
I adjusted my radio to listen out for interference about this, and finding none I knew I was privileged to be your lover; so I fell upon the rock in between us and devoured it; and this is when I knew, that I could never deny you, anything you asked for, when you reached out for me.
Maybe I was a hard lover, but that never stopped you going for me, until all I could do, was bow down to you until I knew you were my queen.

This gave rise to all sorts of things to be talked over and over to reach a compromise in between the sheets where the grass was making us talk in tongues.
I had to wonder who this us was that was talking so.
Thank you bad to be upon this scene like this where the next remnants we come across will beam us where we stand.
This is the loud we hear that we stand upon?
I was there always at the bottom of your well you know…
Something that had me on in mind became silent all night long then to be heard; so I screamed to wake up and fell in love with the first girl I came across and swore I’d never leave her for anything, no matter what.

My ego was laughing in the grass where I wanted to be.
I couldn’t succour this so I went south to grow strong again until I could reach to that sky that would take me in to learn me true. Around about here and about 50 million reactions later as the turn screws I grew restless and longed for a coffee where I’d never been before.
The restless ghosts in their doom rumbled on into wearing 20 classic guitars around their waists that eventually sank them down into their doom that struck them as impossible yet came anyway.
Almost the next day I found myself still laughing in the grass and waiting around to die, so I took the very next exit out of where I was thinking about six hours or so after it began.
I couldn’t work out if I was going down or up.
Mastered, said the wizard machine.
I knew I ought to organise some schedule around this to sow up my scattered soul, but I could not drown it from the sea to where I was standing; so I took up playing music to keep me awake at nights where the paradise dawn would see me struggling again to stay asleep.

This moment is all I know, I said, to all I couldn’t understand.
Standing on my shoulder was my pet budgie pecking at my scars and giving me encouragement to wonder onwards.
Becoming suddenly peckish I walked out of my cave and hit the traffic of the new world; it was so crazy that I turned around and went back again into my cave never to come out again laughing in the grass where I didn’t belong.
The darkness was too silent and too loud so I built even more paper clouds to sail across my skies.
And when I couldn’t do that I was just a lover on the stairs looking down upon your universal love dancing in tune with my masterpiece.
Well, I was tying up my shoestrings, I can tell you…

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