They say that change is a part of life,

Alright,

If everything were to stay the same,

Forever,

I will be bored out of life,

But there are always some things,

That I want,

For eternity,

Like my love for chocolates, maybe,

Or my stupid childish desires and wishes,

Gazing at stars all night,

Or feeling the warmth of sun,

On me, as I let my imaginations run wild,

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Writing a character reference
for a friend
for someone I thought I knew
to mitigate their crimes
to ease them on their future journey
humbled, kneecapped and sore
Two thoughts spring to mind…

What good have they done
and how can it be expressed
Were they always the first to lend a hand
were they always there for those in need
Which of their actions
should I recall and paint in colour
...

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Writing for a friend here…

He knows early morning wake ups,

     measures life in coffee cups.

He knows brunch time habitats,

     gauges wealth in catch-up chats.

He knows evening drink delights,

     treasures life in plentiful pints. 

He knows routine late lock-ins,

     taxes his crumbling self-discipline.

He knows nighttime wide awake,

  ...

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There was talk of train trips

     and long-distance walks.

There was talk of mountains

     and open water sports.

There was talk of eating wild

     with and without forks.

There was talk of the pub

     and stopping for shorts.

There was talk of diary strain

     and see after vacations.

There was talk of cash constrain

     and deferred decisions.

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We’ll eat well when one of us goes,

when Paul passes, when Dave no shows.

We’ll eat well when it's Tony’s turn,

chicken drumsticks, sausages nice and burnt.

Bring out the quiche,

bring out the pork pies,

cold rice salads and lots of fries.

We eat good when someone dies.

We’ll miss friends when the next time comes,

yearn for their company and gone wisdom.

We’...

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All this world,

Is one big stage,

And we star as mere actors,

In its brilliant plays.

Every face, a pretty smile,

But Is it truly what meets the eye?

"We my dear, are best of friends,

 Joy, or despair, 

 I'll be near.

 Cotton clouds,

 Or coarse sand,

 Side by side,

 Hand in hand.

 One day, at last,

 Harsh winds?

 They'll have to pass." 

The...

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As young men, we ran through this town
chasing the madness
at the bottom of every bottle
and the warmth of teenage smiles
honeyed with the promise
of new experience

Spinning from bar to bar, pushing the limits
of our bodies capacity for self-destruction
and regeneration
snow melting from our clothes
as we sat and drank and laughed
in the Christmas evening air

Tonight, we’re trying ...

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