Does familiarity breed contempt?
Comparatively so, I have to fear.
Comme d'habitude will crumble dream cement
and with a film of blindness it will smear
fool's eyes. How easily we lose our joy
at seeing something close before our face;
our sense of wonder it will soon destroy
and sink surprise's seedlings without trace.
Look in the tree! "It's only a sparrow",
intoned a weary ...

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Written at a rest stop on the way to Memphis, I liked the radio station and was inspired to write the poem.

18.04.11 - 73) I was on my way down the interstate highway

Driving with care then heard coming over the air

One of many in this nation a Christian radio station

Listening without fears, at times moved to tears

Then after another mile, I would again smile

Driving on my ...

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'Lifer'

My crime was being born

For which they punish me for

Yet it is the one thing

I cannot feel guilty about

It could not be my fault

Being born was not my choice

 I obviously was not here

When that choice was made

Yet they punish you for it

Just like everything else

That they do

We are punished

For their crimes and sins

We carry ...

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Great poetry and acoustic music night-

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I sat and watched you walk away

long after you had gone

aware of all the distance since

you decided to move on

I followed you till out of sight

the course you had to take

the reasons were so clear to me

your will was less opaque

and so the worthy part of me

was severed, cleaved away

but in a moment rationale

conquered hope that day

if I shou...

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I've not got a brother named Stephen,

He's under the snow crisp and ephen;

Like Wenceslas, he's dead;

I chopped off his daft head,

Cos he was too bloody bohemian!

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I will gather breeze in my palms,

I will hold the wind in my arms,

I will pick you up on my wings,

I will get you free of bitter things.

All my tenderness will be an ocean,

I will show you all my devotion,

I will smooth out your old wounds,

You will hear new beautiful tunes.

I will make you feel drunk,

I will make you find your spunk,

I ...

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I’m a rebel in the boneyard

I don’t give up

I scream and cry

and strut my stuff

I wear tight jeans

I don’t sleep nights

I’m a rebel in the boneyard

feelin alright

I’m a rebel in the boneyard

and that’s good news

don’t know if it’s drugs

don’t know if it’s booze

or bipolar disorder

that brings on the blues

I’m a rebel in the bon...

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courtly choreography

of football ballet

Barcelona teasing

Man United wheezing

English energy

wiped

by Spanish skill

cbt

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Death-blooms rest upon loam
as shifting zephyrs whisper requiem.
Grieving thunderheads split,
unfolding obscurity and
saddening the horizon.
The velveteen succor of night
abandons without regret
and i am left alone to resent the day.

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Spitting it out in the hope of releasing
unlocking the cage stifling my growth
burning it all selfishly brightly
and the feeling is back again
pounding my head again
to just let go

Spewing it out with the aim of escaping
fleeing this habitual and too perfect a world
shedding the handcuffs worn in contentment
and the aching is back again
haunting my thoughts again
to jus...

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Hi folks, some food for thought here. Press the link and take a look what's happening. There is no shame in admitting that you didn't know or understand how dire things have become on this globe. Most of us have never really known the full extent of the figures for years, but, let's hope we can as a collective shout, or write, just that little bit louder, so those in authority will know that we...

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The cynic's narrative is familiar,

the familiar disdainful script slips easily

off the acid tongue which lurks

behind the curled lip.

The familiar bored tone,

The familiar raised eyebrow and tired contemptuous amusement,

the familiar unspoken conspiracy of superiority,

the familiar stale charm and shallow cheer,

the familiarity of 2011's world spirit.

H...

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i am a black belt 

i leave blood wherever i go

its not for the right reasons

its for reasons you don't know

i leave behind a trail of destruction and gore

guts and entrails and broken bones

people treat me with disdain

so i eat up their brains

and leave their bodies behind me

or in their own homes

stick and stones never hurt me

only removing my ...

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A stammer of clarity.

What a world

To fathom

And all it's cronies

In stylish clothing.

The last wish

To become alone

All at once.

Fuel for the tomb.

Assume a future.

But how does now happen?

What is the reason

For this existence

To mean something?

To go back and forget it

All over again

Is a dream to kill

...

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Read me a story that's never been told,

show me a lover who'll never grow old.

Bring me flowers that outlive the hours,

touch me with rain from enchanted showers.

Find me a fountain whose silvery spray

falls onto faces then trickles away,

gentle as dew on an infant's first morning,

warm as a rose on which tears are falling.

Stroke my cold cheek with fingers that ...

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(A Journey of Nostalgia)

I journeyed but once from the old Hucknall Central,

A station now gone on the GCR line;

Its imprint on memory, though, quite monumental

Made mystically precious by passage of time.

The floors and the stairways so basically timbered;

They echoed our footsteps; we ran without stop;

We carried Ian Allans with sequences numbered

A...

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egg

 o egg

           what is

            you am?

             all white

   and yellow

           --- like a

          banana --

        or a egg,

       come to

     think

    of

                                  it.

(From my Fruity period -- sorry, I'm in daft mode for my grandson....)

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My book-shelves are filled

with  campaign medals

from battles with 

an inadequate education.

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It's dark here.
I sit alone,
Naked and abandoned.
Cast in my own company.

The black looms closer,
I can't see my hand,
Can't feel my face.
Lost in my own disgrace.

I scream
Until my lungs are raw.
The sound reflects back
A cry only I can hear

Where are you?
When I need you,
To chase away my fear?
It's dark here. 

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Haven't put anything on here due to exams but I will try my very best to, very busy revising at the moment though, sorry

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High unemployment, no jobs to be found,

There simply aren’t enough to go round.

So raise the retirement age,

Keep the young from a wage,

And run poor old folk into the ground.

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The barman nodded knowingly, she smiled and said “Bonsoir”

She moulded to a barstool and he brought her café noir.

Her scarlet beret matched the lipstick rosebud on her cup,

I sat beside her, caught her eye then winked and said “Ey up”

I said “hello love, what’s your name” She answered “Femme fatale”

I asked “Well, how’s it going lass?” she shrugged and said “Pas mal”

Sh...

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Pictures of you at the ocean
and when I saw them
They made me think your in love.
I can’t hate you for it,
You deserve a warm body to hold on to
As much as you deserve Paris in the springtime.
I wish you butterflies and dirty dreams
And kisses in the fall.
 

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Soft rain falls down,
echo of tears
I can no longer cry.
My heart is broken.
My soul is drifting
across the beauty
of an acoustic guitar,
and lyrics beg to sweep me away.
But I’m here.
I’m here,
holding my heart,
and worrying,
worrying about the future
that may come.
Will my dreams give me light again?
Will hope take my hand?
The music plays on,
and rain falls ...

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If I never lie with you

I will never lie to you,

to the casual observer I appear to look through you;

I wear bad luck as baggage

and drink as a badge

I curse every move of that bastard called time

that put beauty in his path

and duty

in mine.

No alabaster

comes close to your skin,

no imperfection can wrench anything

from the butterfly ...

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WOL site needs a new photo galleries curator/ editor. 

Anyone interested should contact Julian Jordan.

Thank You 

Rachel

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The bluebells, he cries, are a slide made of sky

lying over the hill where I'd like to decline

his interrogation fired ad infinitum

until all the eggs have been counted and eaten.

The Question- Master demands instant answers

and a database big as The Bible.

The family might call it repartee -

for me it's a matter of survival.

Dandelions can be yellow or whi...

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   Into the riot of the spring

sirens are calling my soul

what the hell is wrong with me?

I feel like I'm a thousand years old

But I've just been a boy

who started a million fires

went down on his knees and then prayed

to catch another glimpse of your face

That day you were wearing a skirt

the day you made my knees shake

all that distant time

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I am the one you kick cans at as you pass me in the street.

I am the one with the dirty hair and the scruffy clothes.

I am the one you cower from and snarl at as you pass my feet.

I am the one you pretend you can’t hear or blatantly ignore as I mutter ‘Spare change please’.

I was like you once I had a home, a family a smile. Now I have my dog.

I fought for the country ...

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It's been so long I'd forgotten.
"Ups and downs" can hardly describe
The abyss that greets each lacklustre word,
The endless self-analysis,
The whining and whinging that only serve
To push you still further toward indifference.

My fantasies have crashed headlong,
Breaking on the spindle point
As hope skids eternal back and forth,
Each up, each down, a mountain peak
Unyield...

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pulling forward

the dusty

cardboard memory box

from it's hidey hole

beneath pressure deadened springs

the metal framework hangs low

scratching the surface

I carefully lift them out

and tears begin to well

they stare at me

unaffected by time

from stages in life

birth

nursery

school

college

then there are no more

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She came to me last night

Walking towards me

Dressed in her flowery skirt

And her blue sequined top

She looked calm and serene

Reflective even

Smiling at me purposefuly

Her brown eyes twinkling

I ran towards her

I put my arms around her

I wanted to feel her

I longed to smell her

Just to touch her

Then she was gone

I looked

I star...

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Ungainly placed, on a chequered board, sits

a chameleon.

It yawns, gluey lungful adolescence.

Each eye hurries, confuses syntax,

keeps clumsy fashions,

knocks over everything.

I wake up to this - a breakfast table debacle;

agitations over toast, milk smirking sick,

eggs peeled, juice, primary decisions,

and that gaze again, somewhat spurious.

...

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  Here

At the corner of the Croft

is a Basket of Light

This is where songlines weave up 

through pavement cracks

Despite

This is where, not so long ago, 

breeze blew over poppies in wheat and cows in clover

on Stokes Farm

Now

skateboarders wheel round pecked out buildings

and boots stamp burnt foil into the tarmac

of Stokes Croft

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Read more …

This is our final destination:

No Man's Land terminal,

terminating at the end of the lane Cain paved.

This is place is an airport slowly murdering us with boredom

with nothing but dim, echoed muzak

and our haggard,

baggy-eyed reflection in shop windows for company.

This is where we roam:

for anything to hunt and gather

on these barren litter-beaten st...

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Once I followed a prophet

Step by step

He walked a little ahead.

Until I passed through a doorway

That was framed only for me,

no longer did I follow a prophet

he walked a little ahead

and I let him go.

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`







news pa p e r s

lots of fluff-for-circumstance
wanting of substance


verbose kitty litter...
reflection of our day









`

Please make your response or comment on my profile page. Thank you.

Read more …

Short and sweet, it was.

The same as we were 

In the cold light of day.

I wake. I sleep.

Never to move forwards.

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Exchanging blissful affection,

eyes searching ambers tawny depths.

This is whim V perhaps,

as kisses lightly sweep over

teasing a delicate surface.

Laughter sits comfortably

between sunny days

that just for now

seeks no permanence.

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Fluttering from books

like pressed paper aeroplanes

last vestiges of love

Heat, warmth, promise

dried to seed and sown in barren land

threaded to words that can’t be worn

the touch, the taste, the look

this moment in time now gone

ink etched to history

to keepsake kept

for rainy days

when memory is all.

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