If you are a poet it means so much

as others souls you often touch.

Your own soul you cruelly cut

petting the others with your blood.

To be a poet means to sing of beauty

and it’s the main poets' duty.

Rhyming  words to tell the truth

and it has to be quite smooth.

To be a poet means to burn with passion,

to treat the others grief with a com...

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  I need to compile a list of words I need to say to you

we've just met and i'm clueless on what I should do

to express what i feel towards this

and I couldn't pluck enough courage to even give you our first kiss

I bang my head on the cafe table

questioning if dating is some sort of fable

I'm jealous of seeing what other couples have

they step to happiness mean...

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You walked out of my life,

I cried so much.

And now that you’re back,

You lost your touch.

The spell is lost

That had me bound,

Gone for ever,

Nowhere to be found.

You no longer belong

Here in my place,

So do me a favour

And get out of my face.

What do you mean?

Have I someone new?

I don’t need another

To know it isn’t you!

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To the man who splashed me with a puddle this morning

What would just be really splendid

Is if you’d listen and then give me right of way

As I’m travelling as nature intended

Can’t you see I’m trying to cross?!

Is there something wrong with your vision?!

You know you get points if you actually hit me

And what do points mean?! Prison

And before you sta...

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In biting the bullet

pissed

I missed

shot myself in the head instead.

Now down

numb

on the ground.

Fucking bullet

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We sit above the blueblack sea

as the sun settles.

Wrapped in winter

coats in our September.

Two women crying, laughing,

going crazy

with our pink

champagne.

All the others are inside

for warmth

and music.

Our teeth chatter but we feel

alive.

Below the doomy sea

can crash

but we are here,

above it.

...

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Someone said Denmark,
in a royal palace,
I found it at Patel's Food & Booze,
Swindon,
four grails
of sunshine
next to the gram flour, below the lime pickle,
the trove tip
that melted me down
each pull pushing
me further away
from
Swindon
Denmark
Patel's Food & Booze

Just to be sure
I hacked my way deep into the Peruvian jungle
and didn't find it there.

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Please, do not take my photograph.

It is not the wayward tooth,

or the botched parting in my hair,

or the emphysemic hollow

that makes an empty coat of my chest.

None of these things bothers me.

It’s the old saw we know is untrue yet

cannot deny; in fraudulent smiles

the lens finds truth, the camera does not lie. 

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Sunday 17th October

Mad Pride - A Celebration of Creative Lunacy

For World Mental Health Day

A Muses Cafe Special Event

Ivy House

Stuart Road

Nunhead

SE15

Maplink: http://www.multimap.com/s/huFra7ND

Noon until 10pm

Featured Acts include the Bert Shaft Orchestra/The Balloons/The Blowpipes/Paul Birtill/Dave Russell/Jude Cowan/Cathy Flower/Dave S...

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Shakespeare would have us believe.

The question is who controls the auditorium?

Is it controlled through Government hand outs or

augmented taxation served up to befuddled legislaton.

Life is a randomised, unsolicited list of stage directions,

given as prompts regardless of consequence.

It’s the equivalent to being forced

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The planets above winking to me
'It's now or never' they're implying
and I feel her hand brush mine
as we're walking side by side
her house is just around the corner
I'm leaving town tomorrow
so it's now or never...

Deep breath, I take
it's a deep breath
I stop my walking suddenly
she stops and turns around to me
it's now or never
I tilt my head, crack a smile
make ...

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She pleads for time to say a prayer,

and stay the hand that snuffs the light,

impatient for closure on this day.

Amidst the chaos of her toy strewn bed

I watch the silent murmurings of her lips,

sweet incantations of her faith,

finger to finger to palm pressed palm,

forehead, stomach, left breast, right

she crosses them all,

whilst I look on,

struck dumb ...

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After a double martini

the very air is more intense.

The distant shore sinks into the deep lake

darkly stained by heavy pines

and cumbrous clouds low-slung.

Silence is a symphony heart-heard,

the sough of needles, sighing reeds.

Chill wavelets lip the pebbled beach,

stir mossy shadows, smell green.

In the cool twilight pale daisies

light a path...

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Heeding The Call

It started out as a feeling
which then grew into a hope:
the guy at the end of the email
threw me a virtual rope.
I took my car to meet him;
we walked the slippery slope
of internet suicide websites.
Living was out of our scope.

This was inspired by Carry on Tuesday's latest prompt and the recent suicides of a pair of strangers.  Critiques welcome.

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Explain me with notebook and pencil

stuck in the throat of your table.

The door left ajar, she suspends a flower

by a thumb and its Latin label;

plucking and preying on petals.

Sex and Death, I guess, she shakes her head,

her hand an illegible scribble. 

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You, missing

Like a tooth from a skull

And it tongues the bloody gap where it was

You, missing

Like a fingernail torn off

And the weeping surface is left sore and confused

You, missing

Like an arm ripped away in a car crash

Then the strange life without it not understood

You, missing

Like the cigarette on the back of a hand

You alway...

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From the plane

your home was a small white square.

From the plane

your pool was a tiny blue dot.

From the plane

there was something by the pool

that might have been you,

though through the tears

it was hard to know. (1)

Hard to know – like you. (2)

But worth the effort. (3)

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the kiss shouted passionately
you anguished tenderly
we kissed a placid mouth late
a desire loved us
the flower cuddled the languishing kiss slowly
she anguished desperately
a breeze anguished
the nice kiss anguished
a misery danced for you
the stormy love shouted tenderly

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I held her in my arms that day

By the river, 'neath the ridge;

That was when she kissed me first

Upon the Biffin' Bridge.

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Death just moved an inch closer

A friend has died
It makes me feel very fragile
And death moves an inch closer to me
Like he is an ogre at the end of the bed
Agile when he crawls, Draped in a shawl of black
So that he looked good
I imagined his sick imagination asking
Do I look fat in this?
I asked him to show his face
But he never noticed me speak
Such is his intent to...

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Any town

This town was built from flint and clay

from the iron age and the God's malaise.

This Earth leaves tints of iron and bronze.

Seas, and shells, parchment gone.

This nation holds its mark on time,

not short of the sublime

mixtures of faiths and cultures,

landmarks from other timezones.

The shape of the stars

and the arc of the moon

suggest a covenant with us...

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It was never proved

she actually bit the bullet,

but the evidence suggested

she must have put up

with a near Buddhism

amount of fortitude.

The evidence failed to say

Of what actually happened

And whether it had

Been spread out

Across days of endless torture

Or over in a few

Literally bloody minutes.

They tracked her movements

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Started out with a banister, that shirt,

Twelve hour shift, continue.

A basement, a shower cubicle,

One toilet, five girls,

Three of us times nine bottles.

Boys like dogs on their hind legs,

You were good and sat.

Distinct feeling I knew you, didn't, got to.

Kitchen full of unknowns to cook.

Out of so many a face, only chose one each.

Started out with a b...

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Is it to annoy do you think?

Cos it’s enough to drive you to the brink

Of hopelessness and frustration

Tailbacks and queues

Car horns and fumes

Polluted air

 Mingled with

Feelings of despair

Another temporary traffic light

As landed on the streets of planet Earth

Can’t concentrate

How long does it take?

To travel a quarter of a mile

Two ...

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IT IS NOW TIME FOR SOMETHING DIFFERTENT

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Pack rucksack:

One tooth brush.

One tube of toothpaste.

Two changes of t shirts, pants and socks.

One jumper. One anorak. One pair of shorts.

Tabacco, rizla, filters, lighter.

Two good books(one consiously difficult to keep mind busy. One accessible and entertaining).

No extra shoes.

No superfluous cosmetics.

You can purchase these things on your a...

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Crafty Crafters

It’s a decoupage sticking, cross stitching

Stamping, stitching, fixing, knitting

A mobility scooting, craft knife scoring

“Out of me way!” tooting, topper adorning

Way of life for some

Hobby obsessed hobbyists

Haberdasher hangers-on

These hard-core followers can be found

Spending hundreds of pounds

On paper pieces and bits of foam

...

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And where would you be without my deep blue equality?

what was your home

when you first screamed:

'I want more!'?

But you have to go back

to my warm and loving matter

and there you'll find your friends,

yourself,

and I will welcome you

son.

As I always chose to do.

My kids are a great family

creatures above and below me

my kids, my true loving...

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The dim little girl from the Secondary Modern

Destined to stack shelves and get sacked in due course

With a textual lexis and distinction from Orange

A boyfriend, a baby, a bedsit perforce.

The mousey dull stick from the track on the far side

Mocked lightly by fashion, derided by fate

Wore nothing, but nothing to single or statement

Knew little of make-up, was ...

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 http://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=149449901743488&index=1

at nexus cafe the second poetry picnic from 2-5pm

FREE!

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Mr Incisor, make the mouth proud.

Neither your censure nor your parade can be sketched.

You harass the air

and the common ground is constipated.

Open up wide and let’s inspect the silver,

would you mind if I just dipped in my pen

and twirl around the salad, a little dizzy?

Maybe I could underline a few ammunitions,

and make a poem out of you,

hold it up to ...

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Cobblers to the Pope. Hang him with a rope, of Gold; and burn those beastly paintings.

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Mother

Whispers of a song

Private from anyone else

Softly into an infants ear

It doesn't matter

What of the song

Just Mother's voice

Chubby little arms

Clinging to Mother's warmth

The song continues

Comfort from these

Unheard words

Induce sleep

You can almost

See the love

Radiating

A love that ha...

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Dear Daddy, can you see it now? Looking back can you see your place in the chain that stops our family tree from finding summer? Can you see those missed opportunities and misdeeds and missing moments that were always just beyond reach in the morning? Can you see it all now as your body weakens because of your weakness?

You, who claimed you could stop at anytime.

And you, who have a pic...

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Bite the bullet, grasp the nettle

Pot is black as so called kettle

Ash to ashes, dust to settle

Heavy guns from heavy metal.

Down in the scullery, old wives bitchin’

Too many cooks in the brothel kitchen

Holes in time, no time for stitching

You scratch back when my back’s itching

Eye for eye and a tooth for cutting

One for all and all for no...

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By the way does anyone know of any good poetry nights in.. Poland, Berlin, Hong Kong, USA or Toronto? Just thought I'd ask...

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What did it achieve, bar hatred
And indeed if that was its aim
It did not build the hatred they thought
We don't hate all Moslems the same
Some fools do, but not us all
So it failed, the bombers dream
We know the majority are just like us
And the terrorists from the extreme.

Some s...

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I used to get wolf whistled

Regularly

And I snarled back

'I am not an object'

Now I am invisible

I don't know when it happened

Whether a day tripped over into the next

And the hecklers

No longer saw me

Or whether it was gradual

When I went from waving

The sex flag boldly

To having the colour slowly

Drain from me

Until no-one saw me at all

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From the shower

I'm dripping wet

and a clean white towel

sits folded

beneath my 'phone

upon my bed...

It's her.

The polyphony 

is the Samsung's

knock and bell,

I'll wait awhile...

I pull the towel

from the bed.

And unlike the mess she makes

I lay on a crisp clean

and laundered sheet.

And like the mess she makes

my heart betrays

its hidden echo.

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Life is good and my beautiful city fares well. My soul is restored, my freedom unequivocal, untrammelled. A passion's on fire and its glint in my eye. If you don't love me, I'll love the city.

I'd risk everything for its embrace.

Throughout my recent illness i had a fever dream, i was in a city so beautiful my smile split my face in half, the music was so intricate i realised that nothi...

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Take my coat and hang it by the door next to others.

Rip my shirt, button by popped button, tie it around your waist.

Pick up the little black things and put them in your pocket.

Undo my belt, wrench it until the loops split, curl it up.

Slide down skinclung trousers. Fumble with my feet and socks.

Cut off my boxers. Naked, take in my scent and shy eyes.

With a razor sha...

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You curl up with the phone,

favourite pillow on your lap,

coffee on a settee’s arm,

ready for conversation.

As you dial you pick up a pen,

doodle on the back of a bill

the face of a clown with stars in his eyes,

You tell me of your empty day;

soup and ham sandwich,

a queue at the bank,

and I groan and console

in all the right places.

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Hi folks - I’m about to celebrate 3 decades as a stroppy loud Leftie pimple on the arse of the celebrity culture! 30 years of poems, songs, stories, campaigns, arguments, victories, disappointments – LIFE. All crammed into one evening. And it starts this Wednesday...
     
Wednesday Sept 8th - HARLOW
30 years to the day of my first gig as Attila, at The Square in Harlow, my old stomping g...

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Bleached out happy snaps

in seventies colours

kids in swimsuits a truer red

scanned, seen

heartstrings tugged

another cigarette

an empty glass

thin film of wine grains stuck

picked up,

swished fruitlessly

put down again.

Fingers tremulously tap

delete, tap, delete

finger hovering over

should I?

Wine making bolder

a dark...

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Look at this land, which is our land

Look at yellow sand

And at my hand;

Isn’t it grand?

Inhale this land, which is our land

It smells of lavender and spice

Of sweat,

And grass,

And mothers’ milk.

Listen to this land, which is our land:

Tune into the sounds that are around,

Of running water,

And laughter,

And the wind rustling thro...

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I do not want to know

Don’t tell me.

I do not want to see

Don`t show me

I do not want to feel

Don`t make me

Please leave me

Cocooned and wombed

Numbed and dumbed

Safe and secure

In my candy floss

Detached, two point two

World.

Happy happy clappy clappy

World.

Do not shoot the bullet

Whic...

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