Not on canvas but in frame

the eye and hand do make the day,

which with the Sun unbeckoned came

and at its want will fade away.

Between the rise and fall of light

in all that comes and all that goes,

a wealth of life befalls our sight

that none before could surely know.

And in that fragile frame of time

our brush strokes fill the fleeting page,

which wi...

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A friend took my football memorabilia 

to a better place, another the CDs I never play, 

and the charity shop have the books I’ve read, 

plus, the ones I hadn’t got to yet.

A decorator finished all my jobs, the garden’s

paved with a plastic lawn, the car's been

replaced with my Oyster account, and the

shopping arrives daily in small amounts.

I’ve digitalised every...

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In the mirror I saw my own fragility 

Sagging contours weighed heavy by age

An arid landscape of fissures and brushland 

Time had eaten away its lustre 

Leaving a fallow space

The eyes, once sparkled crystal blue

Now faded pale & weary

I studied this ageing fossil 

This reflection of reality 

Scratching at the brushland

Wondering what time had done

with the young m...

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Liminal

I live in the spaces

Between leaving and arriving,

Jumping and landing,

Fearing and surviving.

(Clutching my duffel bag on the bus

To dreaded childhood swimming lessons.)

Half asleep, half awake.

Tests all done, results await.

Sweet honeyed pause before

The axe falls, the hospital calls.

Racing mind, facing blind panic, the reels that wind.

Life in...

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Bored of this feeling it holds no real meaning.

Unlike the feeling I get from your love now that’s a real thing. Never thought I would get here but it’s now  so very clear.

I’ve grown and out grown this old desire. It no longer excites the alluring fire. This side of life I no longer admire. I seek new heights to take me higher.

I feel strong but not wasted. I apprecia...

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from a broken past its pining

a voice never far from whining

for her there's no silver lining

still has long lists of her goodbyes

kept a record of all their lies

hot tears bubble in her red eyes

a rip in an embroidered sheet

dust under other peoples' feet

why couldn't life be safe and neat?

if only she'd learned better tricks

how to absorb life's bitte...

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you can't stop it

love gathers dust

its downhill from the end of lust

so hot she squeaked

her touch a scorch

nothing doused my flaming torch

wet mouth a snare

long limbs a web

we knew this inferno could not ebb

ugly but chic

lithe and svelte

a body that would never melt

we sit here now

old and forlorn

wishing we had never been born

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Moving on to a new chapter, time is passing even faster. Upwards and away from the usual disaster.
All alone and gonna make it, this unfornate cycle I'm gonna break it. All the bliss I'm gonna take it, no longer have to fake it.

I'm me and I'm free, time is mine and I'll let it be. I don't need love and I don't need praise. The past was only an unlucky phase. Life is confusing I've always been...

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I wasted my life in a search for myself

Lost amid cul de sacs and blind alleys

Wondering just what it was I wanted

Sages say he is doomed who dallies

Horizons don't wait for anyone

Age creeps up on you like a mist

Years become vague phantoms

Its why I've rarely been kissed

I'm getting older but still confused

I always had trouble with my vision

Soon I wont s...

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Aching All Over

My back aches and my head aches

And my eyes ache in bright light

My arms ache and my hands ache

When I go to bed at night

But when anybody asks me

I just say that ‘I’m alright’

Aching All Over

My ears ache when I listen

To those heavy metal hits

My stomach aches after a curry

My arse aches after the shits

My toes and fingers ache

As ...

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A man we all know - Captain Tom Moore, 
A veteran from the second world war, 
He has just reached one hundred years, 
And whose recent feat roused many cheers.

A hundred times he paced his grounds, 
Which quickly raised millions of pounds. 
To the NHS will go that money, 
From a challenge that at first seemed funny.

He showed that age is just a number, 
Which should be nothing to encu...

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I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair. *
She’s so sweet and loving.

I’m good looking for a man of my age,
with handsome gray hair – what there is of it – 
that girls like to pat like they pat a pet dog.
I can’t wag my tail like a dog, 
but I can flash a sweet smile.

My wrinkles portray character 
and the wisdom that comes with age.
Skin cancers between wrinkles 
betray my time ...

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Sat here again splaying the phrases

almost photographic, tapping minds

into my aged remarks letting frame

pictures grey those partitions wise,

but the room years pursuit for youth,

dragging that pen for a crayon,

drawing foetal scrawls on umbilical walls

confused written out in blind art,

too young to be theirs, too old to be mine.

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Dead Leaves

You once grew green

On lofty branches

Defiant against the clouds

Fluttering in the breeze

But now the tree has gone

Just a pale ghost of memory

And the sky is dominant

In my front windows

Your first death was brittle

Old man skeleton scratching

Whipping up your decline

In whorls of frustration

And when the rain came

Like falling tears

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Tied down to time

You've committed a crime

By showing some signs

That you're older

Wrinkles & lines

Cutting it fine

Now you've started

Looking over

Your Shoulder

Stuck to your back

Is youth that

You lack

Like a shadow

Of the grim reaper

Eyes wide shut

You're staying put

That's why you're

Such a 

Light sleeper

Time keeps flying

Your a...

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Fireman’s daughter,

Holy water,

Village fete,

Reprobate.

Stained leather,

Birds of a feather,

Accosted bride,

Harvey ride.

Bloody post,

A mother’s ghost,

Crime doesn’t pay,

Holloway.

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I’ve always supported freedom and equality

I wanted minorities to have equal opportunity.

I believed in promoting a liberal social order,

Showing non-aggression and peace at the border.

I wanted to teach the world to live in perfect harmony,

So that our new Utopia would all be down to me,

But my kids are proper communists,

They want to overthrow the state.

They will give ev...

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SMASHED MIRRORS

I wonder where they go? Your looks have left you all haggard

and old and derelict like so many different coloured mirrors,

all shattered to jagged shards. Black mirror, silver, green, blue.

What wicked bits remain put back together in a kaleidoscope

of evil colour contrasting to your lost beauty.

Like your dreary voice so very ancient. When will you die?

C...

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A poem about getting old... and staying young.

May I Never      

I may never rule the world with theories so fine

May never run past Bolt, smile and duck across the line.

I may never meet Mandela, Obama or the Queen,

I may never solve all wars, or stop leaders being mean.

I may never reach a hundred, run for thirty miles,

I may never help the hungry, turn their cries to happy...

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It was surprising that after work, on Thursday,

she wanted to meet and share her bed with a man, again.

Maybe men, even, she thought, suddenly indecisive and guilty,

but for society, men, peers, their judgment, their pursed lips and nods of disapproval.

Now that she was almost home, her fireplace and Scotch seemed dearer, as usual;

the icy blanket of her acceptance of undesired celi...

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Teenagers, cycling across the Dales
up country roads in the seventies sun
wheels turning, chests burning
on our way to Tan Hill Inn

Too young to drink then
we'd sit in the garden 
catch our breath and if we're lucky
maybe the northern lights
I'd take photographs
thinking to myself
one day I'll bring my wife here
one day I'll bring my children
if I have any
and we'd cycle home

All...

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In loving, I set myself up for loss,

In caring, broken by those who don't give a toss,

What is the point in this moment or next?

We all end up broken, more broken, bereft...

From start to finish just feels like a flash,

Earn money, more money, broken for cash,

Tired and more tired waiting for sweet release,

When death's knell calls, signalling my peace

So what is ...

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Janus

When we were young

we raged against the storm

biting at our hormones,

engulfing our senses

and our sensibilities.

The deep penetrating

oxblood on our

Doctor Martin boots

polished

to an indignant sheen.

Pre-conditioner hair,

split ends and acne,

Shredded Wheat moustache.

A groove worn on the chin

by pondering fingers.

Myopic ...

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So,

I’m in the elevator

Going higher and higher.

I’m taking the lift to the sixtieth floor

Though I can’t really see myself opening the door.

Still,

I often think about reaching that floor

I won’t be the first;

People have been there before.

I guess it’s all normal for a man of my age

It’s like reading a book and turning the page.

So,

I’m taking the li...

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He nods to one side

Gives in to a few minutes

Maybe half an hour’s worth of tiredness.

In his bungalow

Time is stood still

Mid afternoon melts in through the curtains

Through the half open window.

Outside impatient young mums

Scold their primary school children for wanting to go on the swings

When they just want to get back home

And plant them in front of the tv

Wh...

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I Am The Scarecrow

I am the scarecrow.

Hanging from this wooden frame,

a skeleton of twisted wood

that creaks and groans in protest

at the ravages of age.

The ice cold rain

trickles through my straw flesh

bringing chills to every movement

and dull aches to the knotted joints.

I am the scarecrow.

My sack-cloth head

full of sawdust ideas

that spill fr...

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Young and wrinkly

You are not getting old

But numerically you've advanced

No, you're not getting old

You're just chronologically enhanced.

You are not growing up

But of this much I am sure

To avoid growing up

We must become more immature.

We must dance until our joints creak

And sing until we can't speak,

Laugh until our lungs ache

And love until ...

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She drags tired heels

across a tainted floor,

poise slightly bowed

and her back is sore.

She holds on her face

a cold marble stare,

a hard life engraved

upon cheeks once so fair.

Her faulting movements,

once graceful; divine,

her aching limbs now

with guile, defy

her final performance

on this dark empty stage,

memories fleeting

of a much better age...

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There’s a bench in the park where an old couple sit

holding hands and laughing as the children play and flit

about on the swings and slides with boundless joy,

inciting memories of when they were girl and boy.

The antics of the kids so full of life and carefree bliss,

their lives laid out before them on paths that time would kiss.

They’ve been sitting on that bench for ...

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As a new day dawns and I open my eyes

I look upon a world in painless surprise.

A smile creeps across my hopeful face

as I lie in bed, my comfy place.

A tentative move; a testing stretch but

then comes a cough and my face is etched

with pain, like a stalker in darkened streets

as I grudgingly rise to my unsteady feet.

Reaching to grab at the windowsill and

hold...

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I woke up one day and was old

(Although I prefer to say middle aged.)

I was young and fit

The last time I looked

(Or As far as I could possibly gauge.)

It’s a situation that makes me unhappy

(And quite frankly that’s putting it mildly)

There’s nothing I can do

To regain my youth

(Despite jumping up and down wildly)

I still drive a sporty convertible

(I do...

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I tell you there’s no ending, no straightening the straights,

and the twists and turns of life will remain unending.

Where do those paths go, via many trees bowed by breeze,

and thorny bushes with fresh and old blood specks to show.

Some are freeted by time, just lumbering and slumbering,

as stuttering takes them on to old, past their posturing prime.

Bored by ster...

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My back is sending me a message

it says I'm getting old

That's why I don’t like the winter

My back doesn’t like the cold.

It’s not as if I’m in agony

And the pain is under control.

But my back could do with a massage;

Not reminders that I’m getting old.

I need to send back a message

I need to be rather bold

There’s no bloody need to remind me

-I know I’m ...

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Everything forgiven’s forgot

Peace made way to war again

Boundaries and manners were lost

Dignity was dug into a dirge

Pride slurped from a baby cup-

Oh let’s not talk in sombre wilting

Of how a mind was skewed and tilting

The only saving grace to be

That hindsight wasn’t paid to me

As- if I’d known how you would leave

I’d never give my heart to grieve

And I’d’ve s...

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Pepped up with pills and various potions

Zimmer frame ready to help forward motion

Wired for sound and to aid dicky ticker

Capsules to slow it - or make it go quicker

Now where's my bifocals to help me to see

- and all this just so I can go for a wee.

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each night I sleep

entwined in the comfortable branches

of a mossy oak

by day I play

among the lissom saplings

and wonder

how far I might still bend

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Forget Me Not

“Be grateful for the light”,

my mum would say.

I remember that

as if it were only yesterday.

“Because, without it

the dark will never go away

and what’s hidden in it

will be inclined to stay”.

I had a son -

but I forget his name.

Yesterday,

someone like him came

to visit me -

but he was not the same,

because m...

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beggared on this taunted key

eyes, long emptied stark hollows of jaundice,

no longer reflect the encirclement of youthful steel

and, thus cowered beneath such plumb altiloquence,

she finds herself now wimpled in a creeping green

where her walls bleed a jealous neglect

fish flaked the façade of dandruff drips

her autumnal fall into sorry stupor where

g...

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A STEP TOWARDS WINTER.

I look into the mirror’s depthless space

and note the wrinkles that, somehow have grown

into something I wish I didn’t own.

The knife of age has cut into my face.

The greys within my hair have moved apace

from where the bird of youth had lightly flown

to make a nest of life that it could own.

I wish it hadn’t sprinted in that race.

...

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served by the slice  

this body, cut through in the redesign for a different life,

whistles a frayed remembrance leaving naught but remnants

when falling for the suicidal hiatus of a tethered tale

in these days, of the child’s exultation, sing your song

as a lyrical dog chases damsons and damsels and the first and

furriest flavour the dustiest corpse of trees; dark...

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the blocks of childhood

solid, set square in red brick,

yet from the start porous, lined

by a cancerous quick

so soon perished

barely noticed we chalk one up

then tally them daily

our stars of awe and wonder

in diligent swathes

until the toehold twists

and the road falls away

when the choked black

fear stacked Sunday Psalms

choose today

(a...

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hewn in antiquity of fire and ice

rough fell born in flash and fury hurled

from the high ground fountainhead

set in motion artlessly impelled

downwards tumbling by such attraction

that demands all obey its draw

but my life’s course stretches far beyond

your mortal grasp and moves at a pace

measured in millennia as you count days

I may rest b...

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Who is this woman in

the mirror?

When did her hair start

to turn grey?

What happened to the

young girl who used to

laugh and play?

Who is this woman in

the mirror?

When did these

wrinkles appear?

What happened to the

young girl whose parents

used to call "Dear"...

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All Butt All

Barely bothered as he lay down his weary head
Life was so much hassle, he just wished he could be dead

The medics kept his ticker beating as it should
But at what quality of living, he felt none understood

It's a dog's life he thought with such irony
If I had but been a dog, wouldn't they end this misery

Brighter days were now few and so far between
His memories s...

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Last stop before paradise.                                                                              

An April rain has streaked the windows, smudging the view of suburban streets.

The chill breeze bends the spring’s first flowers and the TV’s showing old repeats.

In the lounge of The Willows nursing home the care assistants are serving teas.

After the adverts comes the snooker and ever...

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