A scatter of images
a-flame in my head
the burden
of nothingness,
dead.

The bellows of memory,
with sunrise all a-flame,
the pumping of the blood
and the naming of the names.

This richochet of meaning,
explodes in my mind,
I seep into simple
as I climb into rhyme.

A glance and a gesture,
of times nicely coming along;
look a...

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You mask the pain of failure, imagine a chameleon at a Halloween party, Opposites do their dance, Crowded Banquet Halls proud aunts and uncle gaze in amazement, Don’t stare at the disco ball.. cousin Mikey’s finally tall, Tasks and options, ha ha, The contrast speaks volumes, radio knob twist, The Child The adult the grandparent the baby.. we mince words especially when we don’t know the half, who...

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It's February again, so brief yet bright

With love in the air and dreams taking flight.  

The days rush by like a fleeting song

Gone before we hold them long.

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I ONLY WORK FOR THE COUNCIL!

By the Urban Poet

In the chamber of the council

Where all the decisions are made

On roads and drains and sewers

And how much we all get paid

Now some of us are gardeners

And others empty bins

There's also the unlucky ones

Who rod grids and pipes and things

Well me I'm in the office

Delivering all the mail

Compared to the Ch...

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The world is a fickle friend.

Turning which ever way it will.

I call out to it...  I shriek back...

When it disapproves.

But its disapproval...

Is its only attribute

On which I can depend.

written 2012

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The knock at the door will come,

As night follows night.

They come at this time you know  

When justice is out of sight

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Poetry is considered by many to be one of the most meaningful and expressive forms of art. It possesses the ability to evoke a wide range of emotions and responses from its audience, including reverie, melancholy, humor, and even anger.

By arousing such a variety of sensations, it is intimate yet universally relatable. 

This artistic discipline allows one to explore the aesthetic qualities...

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My daydreams are like clumsy little thieves

poking about for something of value.

Have at it you rascals!

I have some time, and no reason

to put locks on the door.

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Ruin, destruction, fire and fear

Now I know why they ran from here

The wounded and the dying lay under ground

Undergrowth in abundance spreading all around

Fizzing and whirring through the air, it gets closer and closer to end your fear

Mounds that were cities, ash that were people melt into snow

The seasons are two, left tattered and strewn

In this apocolyptic sight...

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She loves her tattoo…

Sipping on some brew…

Standing out from the crowd…

Always feeling so proud…

Unique styles and design…

Just so beautiful and fine…

Whether it is Winter or Summer…

A tattoo will make her a stunner…

Stars, flowers, diamonds or hearts…

Small, medium and large, all lovely arts…

Adding some sparkle to the body…

Making it part of her regular hobby!

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Oh darling yes you with the filters
To get His attention will take more than lip fillers

You claim to be helpful with your innocent approach
Systematic qualification hun and yes I see ghosts

And colours and auras oh all of that
But I look your direction..your soul is matt black

And I get it he sparkles but you must understand
We shine together with this Rock on my hand

Too bright f...

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He stares at me

As if I could walk away and leave any second

Take my hands and learn me

Read my palms

Open my heart

I give myself to you

Opening me

Know my insides

And my outside

Studying me

Brown and green

A colored pair

Golden specks

I stare back

Harder

Brown curls and blonde locks

When I’m with you

I don't need air

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The far horizon swathed in red

has bid the dying sun to bed

as she slips slowly out of sight,

and daylight fades to welcome night.

I see this evening in my head,

the far horizon swathed in red,

where wavelets wash that dark'ning sand

that calls to mind a distant land.

A fleeting thought begins to gleam,

as if in some forgotten dream;

the far horizon swathed ...

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Your love of my raspberries has resulted

in this late evening walk in headtorch,

to hedges of hazel and blackthorn,

far enough from home to foil ideas of return.

Aware of owls ripping through moonlight,

I kneel in damp fescue and sedge,

clutching this tilt trap of quantum uncertainty;

mouse or no mouse? that is the question.

The trap gate opens. You see me...

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In the shadow that our hearts cast,
hatred blooms, a stubborn weed
where a garden of trust once grew .

Words, once tender,
shatter like glass,
a bridge collapsing under weight;
echoes of apologies
falling into silent abyss.

We deceive ourselves,
clutching memories like
fragments of a broken mirror;
forgetting the faces we wore,
the warmth that once held us close,
burying ...

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For what is an opinion if nobody cares to listen 

For the truth normally isn't a big speech or a selfish put pour if emotion 

It's not a catch phase and you certainly won't find it on the devils favourite tool we call social media 

No truth is a claim affair a whisper of uncertainty the call help that normally comes a little yo late 

If you se the true holder of the honest tongue still...

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"Two Black Hawks"

The day breaks open like an over-incubated egg into brisky and hot halves,
Perfect timing to serve vengeance like cold ice cream,
And bury the hatchet with the hands that bore it first.

The hands that dealt the first gruesome blow,
The hands smeared with the blood of innocent citizens,
Dragged into the cauldrons of death by religious bigotry. 

The Black Hawks swooped...

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A brighter future for us lies ahead,

No more wars or quakes,leaving many dead.  
 

No-one ever again,will be sick,

A path to good health we can pick.

Total peace will rest  all over our earth.

No threats of wars and suffering from birth.

The wicked on our earth will rule no more,

Good people will take over for evermore.

The earth will become a global paradis...

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Now that the weeks and days and months fly by,

Propelling us still faster to our end,

The needed action is to hold up time,

To slacken off, or better still, suspend

Its uncouth march into the wild beyond

And celebrate its capture as its bond.

But if time should comply, what must we do?

Display ourselves and prance around a pole,

Or willingly obey a quiet void?

Time,...

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My name is Tom
Don't get me wrong 
I am a poet and on song
I need to write
To keep me bright
So here goes
My pen it flows
I've got plenty to say
Every single day
My name is Tom

My name is Tom
Today I'm sad
Sometimes I'm mad
In a world that is bad
I need a clear direction 
Give me some real affection
All we get is pain and war
There's no peace anymore
What are we living for
My ...

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Pure Folly

Elon Musk bought a planet,

With every Xtra that goes with it.

Today’s billionaires have bigger follies,

Than old mill bosses, or owners of a pit.

Their desires become immaterial,

As whims are dished on golden plate.

They dance around the rule of law,

With the Metaverse told their reign is great.

They wring our world of its resources,

Act ignorant ...

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Two farthings make an 'ape'ny

(That's halfpenny for short)

Two 'ape'nies make a penny

Like two pints make a quart;

Three pennies make a thrup'ny bit

And six of them a tanner

Two tanners make a bob

King George never never never shaves his nob

But I digress

Two bobs and a half a bob

Made up a half a crown

You've nearly bought a dog licence

A third of it paid down.

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We are living in the Dark Ages,

repeated, but different.

We are waiting for the Renaissance,

repeated, but different.

Musical notes,

repeated, 

create flow.

Tune into the flow.

Fear nothing.

Love everyone,

repeated.

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Nian was the ferocious, underwater beast.

It came to destruct, to murder and feast.

At New Year it rose from its hiding place.

With its dog like body, and a lion like face.

Nian raided villages, with its deadly greed.

On animals and children, Nian would feed.

An old man appeared, and to villagers said.

‘Nian feared loud noises and the colour red’

This ma...

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I gaze into the pool -

the pool gazes back,

a dark unblinking eye,

surface perfectly flat.

No ripples or reflections,

a natural sump

a bitter cup.

Almost round

with sloping sides

no iris or reeds 

to soften its banks,

no dragonflies

or bathing birds,

just dark, brown black

surface perfectly flat.

Above the pool

mosquitoes dance

a h...

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How cruel one must be to become well acquainted with suffering and still inflict pain upon

another

Perhaps my heart is so frozen I forgot how to act.

I am cold and distant, full of disdain and heartache.

A lifetime of resentment runs through these veins

Yet it’s me who bares the ache of caring-but careless in many attempts

The salt of life is but a bitter taste of irony

And so...

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Once upon a time, there was a cake that was not just a cake
It was the cocoa powder, dark and bitter earth
that once was seed, fruit, promise
It was the butter, golden fat, almost alive
melting under touch, like fear or desire
It was the sugar, sweet and cruel
dissolving into itself
like memories that refuse to be remembered

The eggs are cracked, fragile shells of worlds
and from them f...

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A pint of whole milk
A loaf of white bread
(And think of the shopping
You'll save when you're dead),

Some butter, some cheese,
A crusty French stick
(And check "best before";
It goes bad so quick),

A small tin of peace,
Some angel food cake,
Some good instant coffin
(To keep me a wake),

Some cocoa, some tea,
Some Cumberland pies.
(I paid with my life
And the coins on my eyes)

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"I wish to thank [them] for enjoyable discussions which have contributed greatly to this article. Needless to say, these people should not be assumed to be in total agreement with the scientific and political views expressed here, nor are they responsible for any errors or obscurities which may inadvertently remain."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fj0xYjsxyEY

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WORLDS IN WORDS

The word I’m looking for is “absurd” –

exactly the right word for a world in which

you can’t rise from a chair and not

stare full square at, say, a centipede,

off nowhere in particular, he glides along

(or is it a swimming thing he does?).

We, that is, he and I are equals, for we

share random lives: I could have made a

cup of tea, then returned to...

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We never walked this way together,

   We never sat down here to chat,

We never spoke of future plans,

   Of hopes and dreams and things like that.

We never caught the last bus home,

   We never shared a cigarette,

We never kissed at your front door...

   In fact we never even met.

But if we had, oh if we had,

   Who knows what things we could've done,

What lovely...

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The reign is spitting mad

at the huddled masses yawning,

those maggots of the night

who hatch out in the morning,

it seeks to hold them under

to wash them clean away,

with their plastic bags of plunder

who'd miss them anyway?

They have no real accounts,

no footprint in the data

their sum to naught amounts

they are dead sooner than later.

They...

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Standing by the Beast of Belsen's desk
On my lunchbreak at work
"Let go" for a nonsense reason
The boss is a twerp

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#Holocaustmemorial

There was music at Auschwitz, to greet them off the train

Then to the disinfection area

Where, they were never seen again.

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See, I thought I’d found my Tiana

A nice little smoochy snog,

behind that rock shaped like a toad

your kiss turned me into a frog

Not way it’s meant to be I thought,

was like that fable in reverse

Your kiss made this already prince

into a toad, your kiss was curse

And though your kiss was rather nice

and pleased as hell we did it did it

Opened my mouth to my...

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Saturday moonlit evening,

Crescent eyes in the sky,

And xenomorphic beings between.

It's cold in Appalachia,

During midnight turmoil,

Burning the midnight oil.

Solid truths,

Forgotten memories,

Ghostly in history.

Greatest world,

Held between two chopsticks,

And not mistaken for a new one.

Ghostly after image sky,

Held between my eyes,

...

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self-made is self-man made
self-made is self-man made glory
joy is self-made joy
joy is a joyful self-made
joy is a joyful glory
glory is a joy of glory
glory of joy,glory of self-made

man is man made glory
a mass of glory is a mass of man made
a mass of glory is a mass of energy
energy is a mass of energy
energy is a mass of joy
energy is a joy of energy
mass is a joy of energy

...

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Life is moving so fast..
I am wanting to catch on...
But my wheels of emotions aren't turning the way I would like them..
They halt...they stall...they screech...they breach the peace I wish to feel within...
Little things hold me back...
Big things force me to go on...
I wish to breathe when I am expected to sprint..
I have the need to just lie down...when I am expected to fly...
Where do...

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Up against the legendary Lawman

Hard defender's hopeless case

Thunderbolt strike all mighty roar

True Stretford End King arm upright salute

Forever acclaimed never will we forget.

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The Berlin Holocaust Memorial is stark.

For the Tool though, those Stelae made a brilliant backdrop

to his ‘Twenty-Two election publicity lark;

The Shoa, he reduced to a pantomime prop,

Behind you, behind you! Look, Sir, it’s the …!

At Auschwitz yer man is on ‘Twenty-Five’s photo-shoot,

The strain in his face, act studiously honed

to show that he cares, oh, look at him, ...

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Old New Town

This city of steady solid columns.

Of cobbles, potholes and greying rains.

Whose wynds take you up, to aspire to better.

And lift you higher only to pull you down again.

Built on solid rock, the colder and the wetter.

Old swamp was drained and cows driven out the gate.

King Arthur broods with craggy chin and saddle hard

And spires and turrets, bridges of kin...

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You threw your cards on the table

Swore Yea, I’m real

Only real people ever say that so I know it to be true

Real and true

until it wasn’t

Can i whisper the quiet truths here, since i know your reading attention is elsewhere and not on me now?

I liked your darkness,

recognized it,

                  it did not scare me,

                                  mad...

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This poem is about a society increasingly divided, where accusations fly and truth seems lost. It speaks to the urgency of listening instead of blaming, understanding instead of judging, and choosing hope over fear. In a world where opinions are quickly voiced and emotions run high, the poem urges a shift in perspective—one that values connection, love, and the strength to find hope, even in diffi...

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The tightrope hovers,

Tempting the less faint of heart

To walk, or wonder...

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do not be disheartened
from the powers that be

they shape our media,
close our borders,
delegitimise our freedom,
emasculate our men,
oppress our women,
suppress queer identity,
profile non-white skin.

they take our taxes,
pay their bankers bonuses,
privatise and pollute our water,
shape our education,
control our minds,
continue colonial wars.

they steal oil and gas from the ...

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Fire in the Prison Library 

Wish for us the cigarette smiling gals 
of 1948. Lipstick curled, etched stockings
and a try if you dare sweetheart wink.  

Mainline good whiskey and Count Basie’s riots.  
Percuss linoleum with Ann Miller’s buckled blue.
Frame by scratched flickered flame.  

And it’ll swarm paper throughout this New Year.
The singed pages darting across the nets above,
s...

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When I was a lad, I ran around the hills and fields of my native county,
now when I think about it, I feel sick, ’cos they were full of manure.

It has many beauty spots, does Lancashire.
Rivington Pike, guarding the Lancastrian Plain, Stonyhurst College,
that public school at Hurst Green, which produced Sherlock Holmes’
creator Conan Doyle, and my favourite, the Bowland fells.

But none ...

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The first statue of The Darkborn

to this date still remains unknown.

Of course there is the statuette,

placed in the Temple of Nevermet. 

Then there is the one in the Capital Museum

probably taken from some kind of mausoleum. 

And of course the Fountain of Newly Acceptance

spouting the tourists with heavenly essence. :P 

Malicia reminisces Felicia the Fa...

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It's a shame truly 

That you look at me like that 

Like I hold every answer 

Like im your every want 

Your every desire 

I wish I could look at you the same 

But when I try all I see is him 

The way his eyes light up almost the same 

Oh how beatiful they were 

How beautiful he was 

And how painful it was to lose him 

Ill look at you but with eyes of remembrance 

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we are a generation of brain rot meme lords
we say that we can play guitar
but, we only know 4 chords

we've popularized school shooters
idolized and glorified weak and worthless leaders
we're toxic antagonists surfing fragile buried wires

our brains washed by computers

clout chasing criminals streaming to our viewers
six months in prison but we copped another sponsor
we're desensiti...

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