Rock reggae renegade
gushes schemes, dreams 
and related themes
with as many strands 
as his medusa dreadlocks.

Got the gift, keen to heal the rift
smitten with the tunes he's written.
Repeats everything in detail
in case you haven't  listened 

Streams of consciousness 
turn to a flood
dumping concepts in my lap.
Have to shout to throw one back.

 On leveraging a suitable spot
for interjection
you can make yourself heard
in a three-way cacophony.
with the couple from Torbay
as they answer each others' questions.
in a series of endlessly interwoven
interruptions.


The stand-up drummer
is always on stage.
Holds court from his lounge chair
 waxing loud and long,
blocking the TV view
with soap box statements 
on the state we're in.

Machinegun sentences closely linked
to prevent interlopers 
jumping his train of thought.
Bursty conversations
past and future merging, yappitty yap.
Have to listen carefully
and keep him on track.

Jon from northern parts
journey full of false starts.
Dreams and visions
tall tales from the past,
always in some kind of strife
Juggling six daughters and a patient wife.
When life gets too hard
there's always another yarn.
As long as someone's listening
what's the harm?

 
 I drop in to see Nomad 
on the Northland run.
We jump the consciousness stream.
 He surveys the world with the weathered eyes
of a former British Marine,
mind dumping, always some theory to try.
There must be a reason so we keep asking why.

About databases and social graces
and difficulty between the races.
Waiting for 'steam engining time'
as the roses burst into bloom.
How the years come and go so soon.

Offloading frustrations 
in bursty conversations.
Upward inflections deflect interjections.
No freeloaders on this thought train
got to earn your way in

 Word packets collide in mid-sentence 
finding each other on the other side
when the echoes subside.
Hard friends sit back informed,
exhausted but satisfied.