Questions with intentions,

You’ll find things out of your expectations.

These are yours with nothing but your actions,

Just a fraction of your sins taints harshly.

Silent about how you view this world instantly,

It is possible you want nothing by now.  

Left response to responsibility to show,

How much of this world is lacking,

But most of it is slacking and backing out.

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Why I went back 

A posthumous poem in the voice of Walter Tull – 28.04.1888 to 25.03.1918

Until you’ve been under fire

hunkered down in some funk hole

you’ll never know terror, the horror

or the damage to the soul

that just one barrage can do,

before you ever hear the whistle’s blast

that, sadly it’s true

for all too many,

signals this’ll be your last.

So...

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James Boswell was the greatest biographer.

Samuel Johnson was his subject.

The task took our Bozzy time and toil

Until The Life was considered perfect.

And we can how Bozzy did revere

His great and giant friend.

For they were constant companions

From the beginning to the end.

But Boswell did write great journals too,

With many an astute observation.

And with...

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Granny

Grateful widow

Granddad

East Yorkshire Regiment

Misogynist with

Drink and fists

Uncle George

Uncle Ernie

Uncle Fred

Coldstream guardsmen

Aunty Frieda hard working mam

Aunty Jenny shop boss

My dad Dave

Uncle Tommy

In the shipyards

Mum a seamstress

Till I appeared 

Ernie war hero

George boxing hero

Fred docking hero

Dad my hero

Gr...

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This Book Is Bound In Leather And Writ In Blood

this book

leather bound

once soft skin cover

now weathered and beaten

into cracked and ancient hide

that smells of cedar wood

once tightly bound

now coming apart

at the seams

its pages yellowing with age

some dog-eared

well worn

with a tracing finger

on the memories

others

stuck together

wi...

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