Monday, August 10, 2009

Gone to Shot

You can
Still find
On longwave
You can
Find him
On D
But on Radio One
They're talking bubble gum
And that's
By me

'Cos out
Of sight
Is out
Of mind
And don't
Ram it
Down my
My throat
We'll keep the wine
The Italian bread
And our options
On Noah's boat

Yeah something's missing
We threw the baby out with the wash
But time enough
For forgiveness
Now it's all
Gone to shot

So don't
Tell me
About black
And white
When you
Won't let
Me into
The light
Could I make the same
Mistake again
Oh you know
Damn well
I just might

Yeah something's missing
We threw the baby out with the wash
But time enough
For forgiveness
Now it's all
Gone to shot

Oh the journey
Is all
It will
Ever be
Yet I'm still
Hung up
On what
Have been
Oh I know full well
What I want for me
I only wish
It was what
I need

Yeah something's missing
We threw the baby out with the wash
But time enough
For forgiveness
Cos you cannot
Be hurt
By what you don't miss
And there's still something
To be said
For this old business
But it's all
Gone to shot
Yes it's all
To shot

© John Rogers 2009

Cut and Run

I couldn't sleep last night
My mind was on a girl
She could have me
Whatever way she wants me
I was careless
Downright stupid
I oughta cut and run

Jenny was a friend of mine
A quiet kind of girl
Spent too much time
Going out with the wrong guy
He has his kicks
Left her in no doubt
She shoulda cut and run

I'm not good with facts
The cold light of morn
Leaves me praying
For a different way
I still think of it
The man I am
I have to cut and run

Aha ha aha
I have to cut and run
Aha ha aha
I have to cut and run

I was getting there
Well over her
And then she walked in
To the room
Like the setting sun
Still looking like the one
I can't cut and run

© John Rogers 2009

Went Down

It's more than a difference of opinion
If she's coming at ya with the kitchen knife
It's not the best way to be living
Looking in on someone else's life
It's not the end of the story
Just 'cos you got to knock out the light

I'm not down with half of what went down today
Hey hey

Jenny's out on the warpath
She's had it up to there with the scene
Jason, he's pretty happy
Made the cover of that magazine
It was all going so smooth
If you know just what I mean

You couldn't be up with half of what went down today
Hey hey

Waiting at the back door
Know I need to give
Crazy's coming over
Crashing on the sofa
Walking on the safe side
Scared on the inside
Running all over town
Looking for some face-time

It's about now time for her wedding
She's gonna make that man a good wife
Next there'll be kids and a mortgage
A holiday home and the rest of the strife
I might make the afters
I'd be hanging on for dear life

I'm not down with half of what went down today
Hey hey
No I'm not down with half of what went down today
Hey hey

It's more than a difference of opinion....

© John Rogers 2009

Monday, June 22, 2009

Dolan's Sheds

I walk along the closed line
I see old Dolan's Sheds
The coal floor like cracked pepper
The torn canvas bed

And this is where I saw her last
I lost her on the platform
And this is where I had her last
Our bodies broke in the storm

The radios all died at night
Down to our last bread
We walked the roads in our parents clothes
We made for Dolan's Sheds

And this is where I saw her last
I lost her on the platform
And this is where I had her last
Our bodies broke apart in the storm

© John Rogers 2009

Friday, February 20, 2009

Self Less

Nothing of who I am
Is for me
Nothing of what I do or say
None of which I feel
Is of me
I give all and take

© John Rogers 2009


She is a focal point
Now, a major to my underage
She replaced and
Shall be replaced
I wander that point
A locus to my
Own need
Forever in orbit of
A hallowed space

© John Rogers 2009

Friday, January 09, 2009

Two tractors


Dogged John, the old blind man from Cloone, walked a slow walk into town. It was one of those rare August days. Blistering hot, no wind and hardly a sound on the heavy air.

About two miles from town, Dogged John heard a tractor start up in the meada to his left. He stopped walking and concentrated on the sound. It sounded off. The tractor growled and ground like an off-tempered pig rooting in the soil. Then the tractor coughed once and fell silent. The only sound now the hum from the overhead wires.

“Barney McLoughlin,” Dogged John called out, “your tractor sounds off.”
“Dogged John,” a reply carried from the meada, “you're dead fucking right. Find the gate, come into me.”

He found the gate and went into Barney McLoughlin.

“You're at me now,” Barney said as the blind old man approached.
“Start up the off tractor,” said Dogged John.

Barney did so. Dogged John listened. A poor sick tractor. Without help, the blind man sat into the cab. Gently he revved the engine, listening. Up the rev a little, down the rev a little, all the time listening.

And so fifteen, twenty minutes, a half hour went by. Barney McLoughlin attending to the acoustic treatment of a poor sick tractor by Dogged John, the blind old man from Cloone.

A different type of tractor

Skin closed the throttle and the Raven stopped accelerating.
It stopped flying altogether for a dangerous moment, a stalled target. Skin killed the engine entirely. Gravity then took over and the Raven started to fall back. Skin saw tracers fly past the cab – the attacker almost had her. Skin teased the stick a little and her Raven slowly turned on its back, tipping over. With a suddenness, the Raven flipped over and Skin was facing downwards, her attacker gunning for her, spraying rounds. The Elephantine never had the same supply of ammunition (or anything else) as their more illustrious enemy so Skin wanted her kill with as little shot as possible.
She gently played with the stick, the Raven was an unpowered glider by now, and got the enemy Punisher in her X. The Punisher escaped so Skin realigned. They were fast approaching each other now, either the enemy's fire would hit Skin or the two fighters would smash. Skin coaxed the Punisher back into her X, got him, held him and squeezed the trigger. One burst, then another. The Punisher's belly flared a little and that was enough for Skin to know she had him. For the hell of it, she dove on towards the now stricken enemy.
The Punisher exploded just before impact and Skin's Raven burst through the debris. Just as well that Skin's engine was still off or it would've chocked on the Punisher's mess. The smoke cleared as it does and again the battle below revealed itself to the flyer.
Skin's climb to evade the Punisher had taken them far above the fight below so now she had a perfect overview of what was happening. And she saw the bohemiath Battler ploughing the field of Ravens and Punishers and other small crafts and in front of the Battler was the line of pods. The precious pods were being guided towards the Gate where they, one at a time would exit out of here, ending up gods know where.
Skin's knew it was ridiculous to take on the Battler in a single Raven but the pods exit needed to be stopped. She also knew that the Battler was using three tractor lines to guide the pods; the main line was the strongest, used to drive the pods and two ancillary lines to keep them in line. Skin only had to remove one of the ancillaries to stop the pods' march to the Gate. That's all, she thought, just destroy one tractor line on a Battler.
Her Raven was slowly gliding back to the battle plain proper, building up speed as it fell. Skin slammed on her engine and opened out the throttle full. She was pushed into her seat with the sudden acceleration. Without knowing what she was doing, Skin let out a whoop. She knew that right now her Raven was moving faster than anyone else. The mass of flaming crafts and flaying shot approached her almost instantaneously, the churning Battler in the midst of it all. She needed to get under the Battler, where its defence would be weaker – here she would knock out the ancillary tractor. Her bullet speed brought her through the battle almost unnoticed. The Raven rocked a little from stray fire but Skin dove on. Within three seconds she was through it.
Just as the Battler flew past her flat line, Skin pulled back on her stick. The Raven levelled out. Skin cheered. She'd done what so few did; she'd gotten under a Battler. Now to find the nose and that tractor transmitter.
Almost leisurely, Skin flew under the Battler, heading for the front. She loaded up three Arrow missiles in the tubes; two on her port, one on starboard. As the Battler's nose approached, Skin pulled back on the stick in order to get the tractor's transmitter in her X. one more second of flight and... with an imaginary click, the Tx was the bullseye.
Skin thumbed the tubes switch on the top of her stick. Her arrows flew – port then starboard then port again.
Then the Battler lurched down. Skin had never seen one move so sudden. She swiped her stick to the left and fully down, slamming her thrust to full in a crazy attempt to get her Raven away. But the Battler kept coming down on top of her. Skin sighed, not only did the Battler's evasives mean the probable end of her but her Arrows would now miss. Fuck it, Skin thought, the Battler won't hit me, I'll hit it. So she pulled back on the stick one last time and flew her Raven into the enemy's hull.

© John Rogers 2009