Daye 28 / An Afternoon In A Field Of Poppies

always spent the early mornings dreaming
in the back of my daddy’s car
sometimes it would take forever
just to reach our destination
to pass the time I’d count all the cars
either those driving north
or those with silver alloys spinning very fast
or I’d gaze at all the tall glass buildings
as we travelled through the cities
then I’d close my eyes
and dream some more

once on a hot summery day
he skipped work
and we spent the afternoon in a field of poppies
and everything is turning scarlet and grey
there are butterflies everywhere
me with my head on his chest

we drank some pink lemonade
must have been contaminated
and we lay down
and talked until we both fell asleep
me with my head on his chest

when I woke up
I wandered off
to explore the field
but I didn’t stray too far
from my sleeping daddy
always made sure that I stayed within a safe distance
so that I could either hear his breathing
or else see his chest rising up and down
amidst the poppies
found a bright little copse at the field’s edge
where the birdsong sounded really echoey
bumped into puck
the oldest thinge in england
he of pook’s hill
told me some made-up stories
about people from the past
sounded like those
that my daddy read to me
from the golden book
beside my bed
then puck pointed up at the silvery afternoon moon
that was now arisen
and asked questions
which made me feel funny inside
like “what is it that we are part of?”
or “what is it that we are?”
or “who is dreaming this?
your mummy? your daddy?
you? or I?...”

Daye 114 / Kenneth Grahame

as if in a dream
he found himself
somehow
seated in the drivers seat
as if in a dream
he pulled the lever
and swung the car around the yard
and out through the archway
and as if in a dream
all sense of right and wrong
all fear of obvious consequences
seemed temporarily suspended...
he chanted as he flew
and the car responded with a sonorous drone
the miles were eaten up under him
as he sped he knew not whither
fulfilling his instincts
living his hour
reckless of what might come to him

Daye 113 / Volcanic Ash Over C.o.M.

airport is closed
due to a cloud of volcanic ash
from eyjafjalljokull

i wonder about pompeii
what it must have been like
to be buried under that cloud

not here in
beautiful sunny C.o.M.
on a hot april afternoon
when the summer is coming
continuing to record
and write
the new album is coming along v. nicely

Daye 112 / H.P. Lovecraft

Daye 111 / Hook

how your future is altered
if i could read the stars
i wouldn't know if i should
I wished I could hold you
now i don't know if it's you
no i don't know if it's you
and i don't know if it's you i want

Daye 110 / 17th February

Daye 109 / The Psykick Sea

the psykick sea
is coming over me
and from the moment my head
was penetrated
by the storm
i wished that i had taken
on this form sooner
though my ears cannot hear for ringing
and you say to me
ah, that is the seasickness
and it will last forever
you are at the psykick sea

the psykick sea
is coming over me
and from the moment
your bony little finger
pushed itself into my hide
well, i knew that i must fly
and you could show me mountains
and you could show me the backside of the moon
you could show me the stars
you could show me the shadows
you could show me the deep ice
you could show me the vampires and the lice
you could show me the up and the down
you could show me the nowhere
you could show me the nightmares
you could show me the angels
you could show me the wondering
you could show me the pearls
you fill me with lust
you could show me the thrust
you could show me the thrust
show me the thrust