I’m not smiling because I’m happy

I’m smiling because I’m wrecked

Because for a weekend I can heal

The bleeding head from all the pecks

From the pecking order

I can cut the cord

And breathe with my friends

We’re not gonna stop til the very end

Pub

Club

After party

House party

Couple of hours passing for sleep

Then back to the pub

I don’t even know if I...

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She rakes in her string, her birthday honeycombs,

with her scantily matter of apron, whistling grandiose soliloquies

to the moon. She eats phone calls with a tick

and sieves the words like gravy, oozing over

your plate; all fresh, all flesh, participants to this autumn

suffocation. She smiles when your belly

drags, your swollen head nestles in her bosom

and shows you girls in veils. ...

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i found a cornflake
it was on my skirt
as i boarded a train
and sat next to a man who was more suit than flesh
he moved as far away from me
as he could
and called up his wife
from his totally up-to-date mobile phone
i pushed down the compact table
the one attached to the back of the chair ahead of me
and i put the cornflake on it
and took a picture of it
on my own mobile phone
and texted it as a message
to a bo...

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The Painting  

            Bloop!

Black paint splotched against the canvas:

            Thick glistening globs

                        Stuck on red welter.                  

                       Blip!

White goo spat from the flung brush.

            “Cows?

                        he offered,

                                  ...

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I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

I'm waiting in line

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                                                Moving Down the Line                                

Walking now,

     Walking head down –

Close to host of ghost like

State,

            Yet only around the tired

Wooden floors of a rented home

As I’m placed unwittingly under

House arrest and I detest this

Passing of a wasted time,

Blinded by grey while

Rain slashes harsh upo...

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Thank you for sticking with me, if you read this it's going to be some time before I post anything new, from start to finish with a bit of a break this has taken quite a while! I would love to organise a performance but I've no idea how to go about it, I imagine a friendly pub on a winter's evening, log fire casting shadows on the walls, a pint, obviously, beyond that I've no idea - anyone help?

...

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pb7mWGy981g

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London and Paris, a comparison

So different, yes, and ‘Vive la diffé rence!’

London is many different towns, not one

Paris is more homogeneous, more since

Baron Haussmann tore up the town, convinced

That diseases and revolutions would

Be brought to an end. And then London sensed

It needed a similar boulevard

So creating The Mall. Though The Blitz scarred

The face of London, the money wa...

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Wrote this with thoughts on how to perform a poem/ or not depending on your stance. It's just meant to be a fun piece but might well be performed at some future date, unless anyone else would like to perform it in my absence.

If you want to look like an angel;

don't kneel down and pray!

They' re not after your money

and i am not 'the wife'.  So

i don't want to hear all about your life

...

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   LOVE ISN'T......

  Love isn't...a dozen red roses and a box of Thornton's,

  Wrapped by a spotty teenager in a hurry to finish work....

  Love isn't.

  Love isn't...a table for two in a dimly lit restaurant,

  Staring gormlessly at each other over the top of cheap red

  candle-sticks....

  Love isn't.

  Love isn't...a large soppy card saying "I love you forever",

  And a £...

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Well Shod

Sign in a shoe-shop near by me,

‘Buy one – get one free’

Now to me that seems only fair,

Otherwise there’s not a pair.

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Here we are again,

were here again,

it's just hanging on,

just hanging on,

thats all,

just hanging on,

just hanging on

to

memories

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They talk of reason and the love of God

and the troops out there doing a wonderful job

They've got to be found, there's no turning back

But why is a body bag Black?

He stood on trial for the slaughter of others

They caught up with him and killed his sons and brothers

he fell through a trap door hands tied behind his back

They put him in a body b...

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I tried to Fight Death.
I tried to Breathe
The life Back into my Son
When I awoke to find him
Still warm, but gone.

I failed, and Death won.
For the rest of my days
That feeling will stay
With me always.
Failure, as a mum.


I Failed to protect that little one.
I failed and Death Won. 

 

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They tried hard to emasculate

Those bastards tried again

To correct us with political

Aha! It was in vain

We stood erect, we noble folk

Rigid and firm we held

As slowly we took it in hand

And thus support then swelled

Back to the shadows spineless slid

By God they make me sick

Those that sneer, those twisted minds,

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Beyond the Equinox

The land sleeps,

furrowed, cold and still.

Each field edge mourns

in widow’s weeds.

The flocks keep silence

on the hill,

while nature weeps

tomorrow’s seeds.

Penitent

in golden cloak,

the woodland

whispers overhead

and through the mist,

like incense smoke,

sheds slow confetti

for her dead.

...

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I am the rose painted black,
and thorns are ready
to slice you deep.
And the sun dare not step
into the shadows
of my heart.
Find the knife ready.
I’ll bleed 
for black holes created
by you.

Twist
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

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lol in two text sizes, stupid!!:) anyhow Patrol Torpedo boats were used in world war 2 to harass and sink larger Japanese merchant vessels. a quite untold story.

SO FAR FROM HOME

Under a curving shimmering blue fish bowl of the sky the small Patrol Torpedo boat cruises over the gentle summer swells in the distant Pacific under summer skies torn apart by brutal bitter total war. Small PT bo...

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Young boy on dappled horse.

Shining hooves on tarmac road.

Rythmn of horse, control of boy,

deep happiness of freedom.

Headstrong horse fights to break away

from bit, rearing and shying.

Flash of lightning eyes, ribbons of mane.

Boy and horse as mountain stream,

running together, tumbling into gallop.

Music of laughter and galloping,

they flow on through fields and farms.

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Metrolyptic

Warp, weft and cryptic.

These knotted streets,

Painted, Scripted...

Look up:

This crumpled mountain

Embraced by ocean,

Awash with the splashed emotion

Of those thrusting themselves

Into this attrition,

Battling the elements and competition.

Look up:

This imposing fortress.

Stacked bombastic monument of grandeur,

Daily announcing itself with noisy candour.

Whilst a washin...

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At last she gave up trying
When the hassles with kids
Had become much too much
For one who'd suffered such

One lied for a living
Another was so butch
And beat up all the others
Her sisters, her brothers

She sank into such deep dismay
Receding more each lonely day
There was nothing of interest
On tv is all she'd ever say

No job held any longer
No more need to get up
A tin can full of lager
And a fag so very...

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Never Shag A Poet

Sitting at my table I’m a face in the crowd

As I listen to the words that are read;

The stories and the laughs and the horrors that I hear

Reveal brief but clear glimpse inside your head.

Loss it would seem is a theme that recurs

As each poet lets their story unfold;

In all of it’s guises, it’s many shapes and sizes,

Events are now painfully retold.

Death is t...

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Life's river, it would seem, has flowed too far

And on the bar, thrown up in wild excess

A mess that, once 'a life', now moribund,

Contrived a fund of folly unrestrained,

That earthly rivers, drained of fulsome flow,

Brought fertile lands to dust, where naught will grow.

It fell to man, this archetype to maim;

To claim the rivers his, to have and hold;

To make so bold that life...

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This is a plug for my Fringe show at the Ilkley Literature Festival.  It's called Gringo on the Chickenbus (ignore what the ILF has published in their program - they're idiots!),  and it's at the Ilkley Playhouse on Tuesday 6th October ,  9pm.  Admission free.  Look on the gig guide for a map.

It's a one-man show,  mostly poetry with a lot of  bouncing about and a song thrown in,  and some lovely...

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(This is a satirical poem on increased dependence of the internet in the past decade or so.)

Some years ago,

I would open a book,

Regardless of width, regardless of breadth,

I would read as by the hours played,

And without a break, none would be left,

I would finish it that very day.

But now that I'm older,

So much has changed,

I can't find the passion, I can't find the moti...

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I discovered the wild green plum

down the lane, where the horse's run

rolls the clay to a chocolate base,

Turning features on the face

of fertile wet earth dust

on her bulging bee-yeast crust,

and the creamy custard sky

tops a bramble plum-filled pie.

Here the spikey blackthorns reach

to the haw, to the oak, to the beech,

While their tarty indigo sloes

top the gentle-fruit of the ...

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MUSE

Co- written with Mike Anthony. (Not about each other. Mike is keen that the man in the photo is credited for the loinal yearning, execution and emotional seepage during his act of genital frotage, that fuelled his input to the poem. I however would like to thank childhood rejection from 'soul singer' Montel Jordan in Harpurhey market, for wrecking my head and making me hear, think, talk and ...

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Light bends

Can you hear that rumbling?

Four in the morning and the boiler’s clearing its throat

Pipes tap-tapping, rapping on old joists

Laddered padding long since worn

Round metal that crosses buried crosses

Beneath well-weathered floorboards

Daylight’s been out all night

And now rattles round the window

Stretches itself around the curtains

A vampire victim of the night bus

S...

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early evening, early autumn glow

            as mersey mist descends

bright as mid summer but fresh

21st century silhouettes

peaceful

like a new start

smoke rises on the water

21st century sounds

grumble

i'm no longer the rural riddle

and i don’t miss it… much

this is the new start

and looking out onto early evening

mersey mist

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We like each other

but our friendship

is a hanky-panky free zone

No hankies

and definitely no pankies

She's retaining her panties

We trust each other

and our friendship

is a lust-free zone

No lust

I'm not after her bust

We've got it sussed

My friend is great

And our friendship

Is a cherish-filled zone

She is lovely

But no more than cuddly

Making each other feel bubbly

We...

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Attack of the heart

Some people think it’s great

Some people think its fine

To have a heart like mine

That makes me do what is right

 So I always end up in a good light

they don’t know that sometimes its a curse

and it does nothing to fill my wallet

to buy ethical brands

don’t these people understand?

that when my heart attacks and rules my head

t...

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Re-union

Fried garlic, lemon, sea-salt on the air,

Coffee brewing , sunlit room , morning, you, there.!

Black curls glistening, wet from ocean rush,

Fiery droplets  your body spangle, as  in naked hush

You go to the window,   step slow and certain,

And across  the blazing blue ,draw a bamboo curtain.

Shadows stripe and tiger us,  to the narrow bed

We stalk,   no sign giving ...

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Introduction:- Kinsella undaunted, roams the cave of chambers. Searching for enchantment in her comfort zone, decides to face her fears.

(v) Kinsella's Renewal and Restoration.

Kinsella undaunted - opens the door to  'Gloom!'

Fumbles in darkness!

Grumbles in fright as obstacles blur her vision.

Comforted by a guiding light in her peripheral sight

she gathers the remains of her coura...

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Close your eyes mamma it's late

I will stay with you til morning

It's role reversal so it seems

Crept up on us without a warning

Pull the covers up it's cold

I will hold you don't you worry

I need you here so don't let go

hang on! there's no need to hurry

Remember back when I was small

You would push me send my flying

and here I am grown up and tall

lying beside you dying, crying

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Our Summer’s Gone

Our summer is gone

But was she ever here?

Did she quietly arrive

Catching us unaware?

While there’s still sunny days

We are sure they will pass

Then leaves will blow yellow

And birds fly en masse

We had set our sights high

Weather failed to deliver

Hopes of being sun-bathed

Now reduced to a slither

Now with thoughts of revenge

Set to flavor the mind

As...

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The night before was class
But the morning bring it's own
dangers
Fear cuts like glass,
Disturbed from my sleep.

There's something wrong,
Everything is wrong.
And nothing will be the same.
It's D-Day
And you're going away.

Minutes feel like hours
Hours like days
Sirens wail
Attempts fail
I try to comfort as best I can
Hide my own sorrow
Hide my own fear
But she knows as well as I do
It's D-Day
And you've gone away.

...

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Fallen angels we are, wandering still
across the eternity of suspended moments,
through this grey land of restraint
and tidy, petty joys to be forgotten
or shown like notices on a wall.
We try to remember what we are,
where we are or when should we be,
but our hands carry no promises nor gold,
our knowledge brings no bodily action,
our voices sound soft, our smiles tempting
but we fail to invite your heart ...

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Tooth fairy goes bad

after 2 glasses of red

Forgets to collect tooth

Stumbles blindly to her bed

Tear drop stings taint fragile wings

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I guess you could say I like to go too fast,

I can’t help it,

It makes me feel like I’m living

Just wisping through time.

I take the meds,

But they don’t keep me happy,

Not like him, the wind, and the road.

Sometimes I wish I could ride forever,

No obstacles, no lights,

With him always following behind or beside.

But I have the plans that keep me here,

The ideals from my youth, for my ...

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John Jelly 1958-2004

Like many people I probably became conscious of John Jelly through his sheer consistency, perseverance and reliability. Walk through Newport Street Passage any weekday between 11am and 1pm and he would be there. It was his pitch. Sensibly placed under cover and strategically located between the Town Hall Square and Ashburner Street market. Always dressed in the same, dark ...

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In a land divided by mesh
Molten dew of the furnace,
Steel grasped by ember’d flesh.
charred thro’ bone, uphold the aegis,
Fists tought, body stasis.
Cherub busks an’ orniment dwellers,
Mask privacy of fortune tellers.

When is now an’ now is when,
In times we must make our own.
Acheive the status known as zen
To keep our repressive thoughts still sown.
Even then... we are still alone.
Land divided by mes...

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Good Morning Sunday

How will this day be.

I know that tears and sorrow

Will be with me.

Where will I go,

Who will I see,

This is not my home

This is not where I should be.

The sun is shining

It’s a bright new day.

But all who love and need me

Are far far away.

I hear birds singing

They are singing to me.

Go home and be happy

This is not the place to be.

I walk on the ...

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The wheel grinds slowly

But grind it does.

Inexorably, imperceptibly

Fraction by fraction

It turns.

Moons wane, suns die.

It turns.

Icebergs rain, oceans dry.

It turns.

Planets birth, stars explode.

It turns.

Mountains earth, lavas flow.

It turns.

So you think you’re safe

My dear

In your snug improved

Little semi?

Black tentacles reaching

Spiderlike to drain

Your vict...

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I'm cool about it

but decide to hang around.

Everyone's so sad,

there's a chandelier of tears in the sky,

cars wipe their eyes

and streets hide their faces.

I'm cool about it

but smell almonds.

It's weird seeing myself

dressed in waistcoat and tux

lying in a coffin

and my face being shaved of three days growth.

I'm cool about it

but overhear friends say

I was an ordin...

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