HERE, PAGE 5... OOPS, SO SORRY... more of the same... BUT!!!! AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE, HAVE A LOOK AT PRECIOUS  STUFF if you are a collector of ARTIST'S BOOKS, OR JUST INTERESTED, then contact WWW.BRAIDWOODBOOKANDPRINTROOM.COM           A POEM BY COLIN McKELLAR   Fifty three bachelor steps to the psychosis begins Firing off emotional bombardments indiscriminately In a paranoid frenzy, there’s no measure on you, No one can stop you now, burning up like a meteor Travelling at exhilarating speed Through your own illusion of an outer world Inhabited by threats and enemies and nobodies How do you put the brakes on? It’s all getting faster and hotter And more excitingly close to the end of nowhere Where you will have left them all behind, Only you will have known what it was like The shrieking horror you discarded Was this what you had to do with your life?                         AFTER THE SCHOOLHOUSE By Vivian Montrose   Over pretty colours’ knowhow That’s a road to the top. There is this one place I heard Always in some lullaby, Somewhere is over the rainbow And always a sky is blue As this illusion I cherish, Indeed realize that one day, if I wish with the Tzar I will awaken in the schoolhouse Learning that clouds are all around me Even when circumstances are biased, And when desserts are tangy with lemon. Over this fireplace I call my head That is where you may find me, Somewhere over the rainbow Where songbirds cry Birds lament the rainbow’s passing Its being and all that is yet to come, So why then? Oh, indeed why not? If such fragile songbirds weep Outside of this rainbow, why Oh, why not? Well… me too?   MY SON by Annette Taylor   Let me visit the dentist when you loose your very first tooth Let's both visit the doctor when you fall down from the roof Let me make your lunch, and make sure you have fun Thank you god for giving me my one and only Son.   All my dreams they float around, like toy boats in a bath, Run to me with bruises, just dance and I will laugh, Show me your paint pictures, with lots of red and blue, Paint for me a rainbow, let's go picnic just for two.   Will walk and talk our troubles on many garden seats, My life is very happy, as your playing at my feet, My little person so content, holds out his hands for mine, With one big swoop up he comes for cuddles one more time   So lots of joy along the way, for that time to has past, A grown man before me to take on all life's tasks, As the path of life goes on and on we reflect on were we've come I’ve no more to say but these few words, Thank you for my Son.    The Late News by Peter Cotton   The late news came before you. It left the drought of emotion Now evident. You seems to be at one With the walls. I wonder at your flatness. Will you fall for lack of support? What's the hold-up? Wanna roof?    Spilt Soup by Peter Cotton   Miso soup on the table. Solitary and sane. Solid and salty. It needs no ladle To show it the way. It spews forth with gusto To cover the tatami . Fulsome love from a brothy heart.                                         ARTIST'S BOOKS FROM FINLAY PRESS. AND THEY  HAVE A LOT MORE AS WELL. BEAUTIFULLY HAND PRINTED, ILLUSTRATED WITH INTAGLIO AND/OR RELIEF PRINTS, GREAT READS INTO THE BARGAIN. FOR MORE INFORMATION CHECK OUT WWW.BRAIDWOODBOOKANDPRINTROOM.COM    CAT'S EYE by Julian Davies              A PILE IF HAIR by JULIAN DAVIES