Stuart Miller-Osborne

Oh Dreams Oh Dreams  I was in a German camp  Where atrocities had taken place  But I was a guard on the gate  An innocent guard  A wooden gate  Painted red and white  Occasionally soldiers came down for a smoke  Or to wash their hands  In the wooden bucket on the path to the latrines  The…

During the long warm months These ancient steps encourage leisure But not today as they are quite submerged By the winter rivers mindless turbulence

I first met Veronika walking topless along a country road  She did not seem to worry about her state of dress  I asked her why I should find her on such a lonely road  She told me that she was planning to visit my brothers  And accepted my offer to accompany her to the home  That I…

 I can see more than a dozen kangaroos  Relaxing on the wet sands of the beach  They are unaware of my intrusion  I am eating pomegranates and cherries   On a large but hidden verandah  As I always do when the sun is low 

First Ghost/Second Ghost  Accaopsy is Innocent Eccaopsy is Innocent Stuart Miller Osborne/Joe SMO/Joe/SMO Mahler  Mozart  Verdi  Puccini  Haydn In no particular order

After cutting her hair Banda danced topless Wearing only a pair of jeans   The city radio forbid this So the music stopped As not to encourage this recreation  

Magri Maa is a small village Not far from Fort William I used to holiday there With my distant parents   I visited Magri Maa A few weeks ago As I was in Scotland To attend a funeral   It seemed much smaller But little else had changed I even found a rusty penknife That…

Nearing womanhood she stands In the shadow of a great tree Her clothes are rather fine Silk Green fair and Gold   The mysteries of her innocence Are now running quite freely From her liquid blue eyes     From Portrait of a Girl by Sir Peter Lely

I was being chased By the ignorant villagers I found myself in front Of the bottomless pool I had always been told To wait and so I did The rest is history my friend And this is the reason That I am selling flowers and ribbons Here on the Wimbledon Worth Road I had been…

Julie was stomping around her apartment She was in the mood of all moods And hated everybody and everything But most of all she hated herself And her impossible reflection It was not much fun being a vampire As people no longer believed in vampires It was like the power of the full moon Both…