They found a mint condition MX Peacekeeper missile.                                                         Fover two decades the peace had been kept.                                                               Until now.                                                                                                                       They fired the damn thing at three cities.   ...

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Great news! I've re-published my e-book On The Verge on Amazon, so you can now buy it direct from the Kindle store. As before, all profits go towards saving the Black Rhino. It's still available on Smashwords, and from all the e-book retailers I know of. Enjoy!   

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yesterday caught up, panting,

riding the crashed cash of signed association

and mimicked accusations of bleak envy

with several scenes already written

most earning a one star rating

from the hindsight of double scrutiny

were that jeopardy a statute of memory

nervous cats might not need to dress to impress

and hide non fictional facts from

the dirty word...

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In the garden, the sounds are small
that take me back to fond times;
the curling up and crying crawl,
belie the screaming sighs and crimes.

When in a moral shed of sticks,
with doctors there at play with silver
metals and poison pinpricks;
I see that time has trapped me under.

These relatives, a clique of pain;
the sins masquerading as the faithful.
When they come back...

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To a lover, overcome with panic and lust,

think back to that summer and that first song.

Sinew inside the mind, a singing black slug, snug,

leaving lines in the cortex, a tune of dementia.

The ticks, tremors and sounds of envious children.

A wilting, sad cluster of flowers, dropped.

Crescent half-thoughts into action as the song ends

and steer vitri...

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everything shatters down below

bits and pieces of good bad and  everything you know

seeping through your hands like sand

trying to hold on to the good and bad

for the bad makes it real

and the good makes you feel

but all is gone

bits and pieces out of reach done!

all that there is is nothingness

A new beggining ? or a tragic ending?

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Oh ! behold the joy of woman hood.

so tender and so sweet,

that turns into a monster for about a week.

Oh you can see it coming, of that there is no doubt ,

when you ask a simple question and all you get is a shout.

Simple tasks accompanied by a silent roar,

as she bangs and stamps,slamming every door.

Tears flow at the slightest mischance,

As the inner couldren bubbles.

Read more …

I remind her of her father

She reminds me of her mother

That's why we're so happy together

We bring out the worst in each other

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     Asleep

     My eyes are cursed,

They belong to a world

That destroys what they love,

They have no barriers,

No forms of protection

Against what they see,

     When blindness comes,

It will not be a relief,

For my sense of sound

Within the dwellings I live

Bare no fortitude too,

Within this city

There are makings of many

A ...

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she doesn't want to make love

she wants to fuck

she doesn't need tenderness

she needs to take it rough

she doesn't want to start out slow

just take her now and don't let go

steal her breath, take her pain

make her feel herself again

she wants the passion hard and fast

make it yours then give it back

she wants to feel herself release

and feel that afte...

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A giraffe fell from a spaceship

For more nonsense poetry visit www.georgestanworth.com

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Many years ago when I was a student I had a summer job manning the Pitch and Putt hut at the local park.  One of the more entertaining aspects of the job was meeting the O’Dwyers.

The O’Dwyers pre-dated the programme “Shameless” by a good 40 years but its writers must surely have known them.

Of uncertain stock and disparate parentage, they seemed a United Nations mix of Romany, Irish an...

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I’m not what it says on my passport

I’m not what the picture reveals

Deep inside is another me

Someone you cannot see

I’m not what it says on my badge

that picture is another me

He goes to work and makes all the money

The money he spends for me

I’m not what it says on the form

That’s nothing to do with me

And the reference number is just a num...

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Alien Feelings

Shattered, splinters of midnight

caressing and glancing off skin.

White, frozen beams of moonlight

that spotlight two strangers dancing.

Electric blue, cutting through mist

as a small, fair hand is held near –

then a blinding flash as two lovers kiss

and a slow, gentle, ebbing of fear.

Eyes drawing near, then cutting like lasers

...

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You robotic machine,

you speak to me,

transfer me from this miserable queue.

Socialite I appear to be,

but am not really.

Then you bug me,

have I my own bag ?

have I scanned my clubcard ?

do I have coupons ?

how would I like to pay ?

yet your manners outweigh,

the human robots on the other till.

Out witted you,

I have,

to get the right cha...

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A little pebble

Dropt into so small a pool.

Such enormous waves.

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It was a hot slipstitch day,

The swallows ran invisible thread across the sky

And farmers unpicked lines of wheat

In woven fields that stretched to 

Plump cushioned trees -

Where we lay together against dew dangled threads,

Gazing at the eye of the needle -

So distant, so warm;

Whose gentle rays pulled the grass

Til it was hedgerow high.

Then we touched: ...

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Flatlined. Red admiral turned cabbage white.

Our bed, once pale open casket creaks a chrysalis,

a steadfast metamorphosis of our gothic love story.

Set apart by vengeful spouses, hindwings skinned.

Living in separate houses, just over ten miles apart.

Beyond the ending in damask suburban banality

the vampire’s parable of a lover’s return fleets transient

scorni...

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Offend a Daily Mail reader – today!

In our miniscule existences upon this planet Earth

There’s precious few occurrences to occasion us true mirth

So listen up real loudly, those with brains and minds to spare

Who still hang on to plucking out true hope from thinnest air

Here’s the solution, if you’re open to such play

Just offend a Daily Mail reader today

...

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Here is a poem

for the others

who are born on mud floors

marshland and high plain

in homes of plastic and flattened tin

in spat-out estates in lands

whose time has gone

in the mewling sprawling cities 

of the south and east and rising world

who tumble down out of shanty towns

looking for work and hope and food

who doss down in shop doorways

...

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Beware the shadow by the corner dark,
For there he waits for seven reasons sour,
His wicked tongue hath limitless remark,
Whilst therein seeking whom he may devour.

Be sober and be vigilant thy kin,
Thy adversary waits beneath the pyre,
Then walks about as proud as the lion,
To drag thy wayward souls towards the fire.

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I want to dance like Louise LeCavalier

She flamed across stage

When I was fresh out from ballet

With the whisper of a spectre

Released from its chains

She took my breath up

In her pale hands

And threw it

Past the stars

In ever leap, twist, thrown and tumbled

She danced with the passion and

Power of a man in a feminine world

...

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When summer mists are burdening the air,

When blossom trees are stunned by hidden flowers,

And childhood bliss can banish every care.

I saw her mind as clearly as my own,

This woman both enigma and my wife,

Where in her joy and passion both atone,

Her clarity and wisdom fill my life.

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Lost in all that I do

alone even with 2

you tell me, it’s all just a question of rhyme .

So how come I never feel fine

always late no matter the time

fucked whatever the crime

So to sugar what little remains I

will gather my moods for a change

then prying the fall from a dream

to mute by way of a scream ask myself

why don’t I slip when it slides

never...

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(The complainnant's complaint, 

is a constant refrain-)

''woe is me- 

yes me- 

they're all to blame!

(points at them)

I'm squeezed in the middle 

(points at self)

by those with no name,

pity me 

-not them-

they're all to blame!''

(They read the Sun and The Daily mail- screaming)

give to me 

...

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Do you dance the racism one-step?

It's a jig that some seem to learn -

Its steps go one-way...hip-hop-hep,

But somehow there's no room to turn.

I suppose it can seem quite appealing

To cavort to a one-step refrain, 

But stepping on toes without feeling

As you dance can only bring pain.

Give me the give and take two-step,

And the desire to dance to...

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Published on Poetry24

http://poetry-24.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/regal-potential.html

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( A praise poem - of sorts) 

I'll not forget the day we met

on the Piccadilly line

the memory lies grafted

embedded in my mind

I'd been working late at the office

commuting home alone

when you approached me with your mobile

and by that I don't mean phone

And I'd like to say you were beautiful

but in truth it was a shock

I never looked up f...

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Mime Rhyme

Mime rhyme

In time

Dance

Up down

Around

Breeze

Some fun

In sun

Isabella

A cute

Patoot

House

A mouse

In house

Home

A cat

Big rat

Canada

A moose

Is loose

Happy

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I dont usaully do preamble however I must put this into context, its regarding Comments made in Spectator magazine in 2004 while Boris Johnson was editor.   The Article went out 'unsigned' which means nobody owned up to writing it.  However one of Boris's tean later on said that Boris had "a hand in it".

The Spectator claimed that "an excessive predilection for welfarism" had "created...

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5 Miles to Home (written for the Milestone Society)

When I'm out walking and hiking free
A milestone is often a friend to me
They're solid reminders of where you are
And t’ next point of interest, they tell you how far

But I’ve noticed something when around I do roam -
That I've never seen one that says "5 miles to Home"
I've seen "5 miles to Bradford" and "Leeds - 5 mile"
...

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CASTLES

On wet afternoons

We pay to visit

The English castles

Grim towers of stone

Ditches of defence

Arrow slits above

Fortified gateways

Charities now care

For their maintenance

Count the children’s coins

Provide guided tours

Sell home-made chutney

We wonder around

Tugging Welsh forelocks

Before these ruins

...

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There will never be another you and me,

All that is left is a fond and distant memory,

I try to reason why as tears run down my face,

My heart it aches as I contemplate our fall from grace,

The past caused us pain and the future disdain,

Whatever happened to here and now – I can’t explain,

We had a divine destiny and now it is a mystery,

There will never be another y...

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Football over, mown grass,

heady scent. School photo,

earnest expressions

squinting into sun.

Yearning, inexplicable,

unspoken crush

on a blonde-haired girl

with snub nose and pudgy face.

Winners and losers.

Another girl, dark-haired,

stared moodily after me,

had I but known.

Dusty sang I Just Don’t Know

What To Do With Myself.

...

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(I put this up again on request. It is some years since it went up before so I hope those who saw it before wont mind. )

My dragon husband

Lives on tobacco,

Consumes all the matches

And breathes smoke on me all night in bed.

My dragon husband

Has fire in his belly,

And roars at the radio.

Flames of his anger devour the television commentary.

...

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At the table in the corner of her office the dregs of Bordeaux cast

ruby glints through crystal glasses. Crisp strawberries glow wetly in

sugar snow; body-odoured brie melts on its marble slab. Nervously she

fiddles with her knife.  Glancing up to his  mocking eyes the offer of

dessert shrivels on her tongue. She moves to the sunny window and

peers down at the bus...

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canal-boat nudge

into hill

not budge

nose

into tall slot

back-gate close

water spill

from top

slot fill

boat

up and up

float

to top

front gate

boat stop

man shout

gate open

boat go out.

miracle?...Yup!

water down

boat up

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Behind most winning men it's worth saying again

there's force driving them, it is true.

With such strength and resolve ambitions evolve

and support to see goals carried through.

It's then they possess stubborn drive to success

in the guidance, direction and tips;

you really are missing if you think just for kissing

is the purpose of those tender lips.

No, ...

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Another rewrite of When A River Floods now called Half In Shadow

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You didn't tell me

When you opened your door

That one day you would slam it on my fingers

Trap my tail

Put on the red light

And sail into the sunset

Guns blazing with Mickey Bubble

Crying a river into his Dom Perignon

Popping your cork

Floating your boat

And dripping his caviar on the deck...

                      Wasted

Like the texts I sent

That f...

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Three of my poems have been published by Poems Underwater.

Laura Seymour and Kirsten Tambling, the authors of the Poems Underwater blog are conducting a project exploring mermaids through poetry and artwork.

Please do click the link below to find my poems about mermaids published on their blog alongside a brief explanation of the meaning behind my words:

And more….

You can pre-o...

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I was going to send you a fairy,

instead I've sent some fairy cakes,

not cooked them in sometime

but sure they will be just fine.

Oh, go on,

I'll send you a fairy as well,

she's called tinkerbell,

she's a bit naughty,

she's coming your way,

so you can make a wish.

She advises ,

you take care with your wish,

as she has only one wish for you

and...

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Mean and moody,

mysterious and handsome,

so they call you Black Jack,

do you fancy a game ?

Chilling as ice,

disinterest in your look,

yet,

I know what you're thinking,

do you fancy some lust ?

Think you'll break my heart in two,

in you I can not trust,

yet,

the passion you've stirred in me,

volts running through my brain,

has ...

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Bored shoppers

Mind travellers

Showcase walk

Discovery roads.

Crafts incorporated

Celebration journey

Composed music

Wicked combination.

Arts trail

Storytellers, musicians

Writers, photographers

Puppet masters.

Bars, studios

Original idealism

Sculptured art

Life captured.

Creative poets

Musical paint

...

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-Did you sleep with him?
-Oh, boy! I pardon you! Well…
I just took a nap.

Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 7th of July, 2013

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