Biography

31 year old native of North West England. Good sense of humour, bad guitar playing skills.

Thanks for taking a look at my pieces. All feedback very welcome.

Samples

Tomorrows World
===============

From a tender young age, I thought Thursdays were great
A quick bath after school, and staying up late
Curled up on the sofa, with my feet tucked under
I would wait for the theme, announcing visions of wonder
"Welcome to the future!", a voice boomed from the box
Introducing microwave ovens, and waterproof socks
Silicon chips, and space tourist flights
Laser diodes, and weather sensing kites
But better than these; the best thing by far,
Was the speculation of a flying car!

That night I slept, with my thoughts in the sky
A little plan forming, of how I might fly
The next day at school, I thought science sublime,
I sat at the front, my hand raised every time
I took notes every Thursday, glued to the screen
I studied aerodynamics, and Lego in-between
Then suddenly one week, Judith and Howard were no more
The axe-man from Auntie, had found them a bore
Replaced them with Southerners, shouting in a bar
But I still remembered my flying car!

The years rolled on, and I got into my teens
My school work choices, were based on my dreams
Computers and science, it seemed very wise
For maintaining a vehicle, that gets up and flies
But as the years passed, my squeaky voice broke
I discovered beer, and the stale taste of smoke
And behind the bike sheds, for a quick kiss and fumble
I was a man now - who was I to grumble
My flight aspirations were replaced by guitar
All but forgotten was that flying car!

College passed in a haze of equations and graphs
But still I maintained my early interest in maths
I was shocked as my girlfriend asked me one day
"What was it that made you develop this way?"
The next day's commute, had me racking my brain
Four-hundred to a carriage, on the Manchester train
I guess I have the armpit in my face to thank
As my memory hardened, the situation stank
Frantically dialling, I must have looked quite bizarre
As I rang her and cried: "I want a flying car!"

I arrived fresh at work, and logged onto the net
Looking up my dream and filled with regret,
I found jetskis, DNA and trips into space,
The paperless office and a transplanted face,
Barcodes, camcorders, and CDs spread with jam
A whole e-delivery system for porno and spam
I saw touch screen phones and cellular division
But my heart sank as I checked for my vision
As a race, we humans have come so very far,
But I'm still stuck on a train, with no flying car!

Fetish
======

The train home from work, and a text is received
Glad of the table; I ponder your need
The blood pumping round, jeans beginning to cut
How can such sweet lips, turn to ruby red smut?

Rushing to the house, sweat trickles in my shirt
Screw the dinner; I want to jump to dessert
My breathing is hard, as I fumble the key
Locking up behind me, I shrug my coat free

The discarded high heel, a kicked free detail,
A gleaming patent partner, you've left me a trail,
An abandoned glove, leather mingles your scent,
I rise with the stairs, I have caught your intent.

Sensing my presence, fingers no longer still
You know my voyeur, you allow me my thrill
Leather corset, black collar, and deep lace thighs
Snarling your desire, blood lust in your eyes

You pounce on my chest, buttons ripped to the deck
Glinting red talons, abrading my neck
Hot breath on my face, as you bring me to bliss
You are my woman, my fetish -- your kiss

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.