Late Night In Queens Square

Late Last night I was sat on the Park bench in Queens Square
Just stairing off into the dawn chorus
With a sweet head resting on my shoulders
I can feel a peeling charm
As I wrapped an arm around
Twitching with a hopefull sense of security
As a warmth travelled out
I staired at bewildered faces of friends and passers by
Jay Birds head wrested on my chest
As her spanish friend wittered on with glee
And then there were two random scotish men
And my friends from the Academy
Who were drugged up on drunken debauchery
Mad cap Micky was on one of his sprees
Ranting and raving as I coverted Jay Birds head with a sense of warmth
A bit like an unstrung harmony
Twinkle around that made me humm
I could feel ceremonious melodies
I felt touches tickled each other
Looking down upon her brown her warm brown hair
And well hidden french accent
Which onlt tilted occaisionally through her drunkeness
She said she hated having and accent
As it made her feel to much of an outsider
For the marketing trade that she wast studying at UWE
Upon the parting touches I felt a warmly glow
As she said that she liked me
And I told her what I thought of her Beautiful tones
Just regreting letting go without exchanging numbers
I just took a stiff breath of warmth
Just pausing to think
There's another one for the softness box
Along with a million others that have passed before me
I hope I can remember her for next time
But memmory is something that confuses me
Sometimes I have the memmory span of a deranged goldfish
Because of all these people that I meet on many nights out
Just remembering one thing!
I always have a softness for those who give warm hugs best

The Listening Post

Lost in the vacuous space of of time
As rough shoddern guitars
Rang like rappids through my ears
With the CD spinning
Creating a whir in the background
As the machine skipped and jumped
From track to track

Clunking up the numbers
As I close my eyes
To see colours and shapes
Screaming Daughter of a Looney
At the hieghtend volume of my voice
Causing Joe public to look
Almost freakishly in my direction

As I thrust and moved to the beat
Hands flapping with pecrussive feels
With 16th beat syncupations
Chanted voices wailing through the headphones
That sweated with a snuggness around the ears
My springy head and neck jerked about
As I saw shapes streched past me

I was completely oblivious
To the growing que behind me
As people turned into savaged dogs
With maingy teeth
All wanting to listen to audio products
As I was lost in a sonic wilderness

With my ears locked firmly
As one extracting wail
Lead into another foot stomping riff
The record store clerk poke me angrily
But my ears where find it hard to escape
But his near Nazi styled prodding
And screaching Look son there are other people here

I looked around and saw gangrinous Monsters
That replaced human beings
Making me humble
And turning me into a quiet soul
As I whimpered a soft sorry!

By Jeffrey Johns 30/7/2009