9th July 2006

You don't need to & shouldn't ever be
EXPERT in existing theory,
in 'the story so far'.
If you wish to lay down your own quite unique version of events:
just
ignore e v e r y t h i n g .








30th July 2006

Dark clouds hang over victoria Park,
saliva on my pen top,
a jet of water shooting 30 feet into the air,
pink-orange-turquoise-blue,
more people were killed in Iraq in the past two weeks than in Israel & Lebanon combined,
So what is really happening and going down?
Like sitting in a postcard,
hue shifted to yellow,
bicycles and birds,
madmen and aeroplanes,
love runs through your veins
that's where the similarity ends,
ching-ching guitar riffs sliding between my ears,
a girl with dark brown hair eyes shining
hidden behind her fringe, sweet smiles
behind my back,
out of sight,
playful and wrong
but only at the periphery of vision,
the blue cracks between the clouds widening,
scorched earth,
tents & hammocks,
i'll let you go,
count to 10,
spin a coin then choose to quietly bleed
or hunt you dead, ready or not,
i can't be swayed,
time will always run out
before the final decision is made.




5th August 2006

The last days of Bethnal Green passing,
cool night air, the street below my feet,
down there,
better beware, CCTV in operation, swan lake,
tutu's and skinny girls dancing quite lovely,
almost ontop of me,
sorry sweetheart have to be rude and ignore you,
halogen yellow window panes, curtains undrawn,
horrible Chinese paper lanterns like some student flat,
can't wait to escape, move on,
see something different,
changed,
and with bathroom facilities too,
a ball of fluff floats by regally, like all lardy-dah,
like it owns the joint, 40 feet above the pavement,
on its way to Spain,
two vans opposite kinda suspicious: FBI, CID, MI5,
plumbers, builders, something along those lines,
Paris, don't we just love it,
wish we were there, hope it'll save all our problems,
bear the weight of all our aspirations,
streetlamp, pointing downwards,
nothing beneath but paving stones, codename H6703,
we are all individuals,
girl in a green dress,
snuck her & beau into the the queue in front of me,
oh didn't the folks behind us whine,
feel so bad i got a worried mind, isn't life peachy,
who'd have thought it, je ne regrette rien, putting on the Ritz,
who the fuck is Gary Cooper? two people run by,
a girl chasing after a boy, clubs & sticks, usual shit,
You know the day destroys the night, try to run,
try to hide, forget it,
girls just get all moody and fractious & don't wanna know,
what's that coming over the hill?
it's a 9inch camel with a hammer & binoculars,
what the fuck's that all about?
skipping past Pete Docherty cos who really cares, bless,
can't find what i'm looking for, obviously not here,
try someplace else, so true, funny how it seems,
i know this much is true, tears for my achievements,
for getting what i deserve and wanted,
nothing more precious, how lucky i am,
how crazy life is,
we take happiness & heartbreak as & where we find it,
that's the magic & tragedy of life in the capital.




10th August 2006

If i run away with you to Paris
you know we'll have to leave at dawn disguised
meet at Waterloo passports & euros,
leave the city far behind, visit Jim Morrison in Pere Lachaise,
go up the Eiffel Tower, conquer all fears,
run along the Seine, bars in Bastille & the Marais,
Place de la Concorde, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, arc de Triumph,
and be back in London before the police arrive to arrest us,
we'll need guns & ammunition, false papers, white gloves,
condoms, half a kilo of crack cocaine to bribe the sentry guards,
glucose tablets for energy, a warm sweater, cool shoes, shades,
mobile phones or walkie-talkies,
and a copy of Italian Vogue to enact a thousand scenes & poses,
chosen at random and each scored 1 to 10.




Julian Roberts, Summer 2006.