I’ve fallen out of love with New Mills

It’s worn out the promise I made in the hills

 

Pavement-side wing mirrors getting broken

Limited edition badges yanked and stolen

Breaking, taking, hurting, hurling

 

Plastic wrapped dog shit hanging dangling

Playing field hedgerows stealth dismantling

Greedy, sneaky, selfish, careless

 

Stone walls built when the town was ne...

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Angry sirens from the paper shredder

As I make a decision to destroy her,

for what use does she have for me now,

her youth, her hope, her old bank accounts?

The vacuum doesn’t open a gaping maw

There’s scarcely a memory any more

- I can’t mourn someone unremembered.

And so surrender my maiden name.

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This is the story I’m still trying to amend,

The poem I attempt to remember.

The one where there’s a definitive end

Which finishes happy ever after.

 

Somewhere along the journey we fought

Against not alongside each other,

We should have been battling with ogres

but instead we punched one another.

 

We might have defeated the slavering wolf,

Feasted o...

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The day I came in bouncing happy,

You cut my legs off at the knees.

At the time you said I'm sorry,

I have no capacity for such frivolity.

 

You tore my arms off at my elbows,

Because my touch left you exposed

to thoughts you never choose to show

and my love of hugging was a no-no.

 

You stitched my lips with copper wire,

Silenced my expressions of de...

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It never had to be

True to anything,

No imaginings in

This hard cold place

of Gradgrind notions.

No space

 for human emotions

with Mills and Boon

connotations

in your scared home

of fear and frigid heed.

But palpably I suspect you care.

I believe in a cautious kindling -

Because your arms are warm;

And sometimes unawares,

I watch you s...

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The small pond expands
with autumn's tepid rainfall
In ice nothing thrives.

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I won't do lunch at Marks and Sparks,

take the car on weekend drives

then park and lurk at poxy landmarks.

I say no way to nine to fives,

a mannequin on intercity,

I just say NO to domesticity.

Folding towels and ironing knickers?

Fridays are not known as tidy.

No to washing cars on sunday.

And creating brownies, that's for bakers.

NO.  Away with all that...

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This latest ascent, I took first lead;

we both recalled it from fresher years,

when we were newer, climbing harder,

reckless in our need to succeed.

 

The route seemed changed to older eyes;

we move in measured, smaller ways,

with precision, our motions steady,

we're still compelled to climb when ready.

 

Living insists we accept the belay

today, but ...

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Their guts are exposed all over the road,

terracotta tufts pulped on the tarmac.

Tiny white tips of tails lie unsanitised,

entrails turning from scarlet to black.

The purveyors of death have driven away,

not pausing to peer in their rear view mirrors.

Fur is soon seeping, fallen feathers go grey,

only the grease stains of memory remain;

a feline sized pheasant sh...

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I am British and I'm saying it out loud.

Once more, I’m British, and oddly I’m quite proud.

The dumpy dignity of her Majesty the Queen,

The shared anxiety seeing Zoe lift it clean.

Can our Manxman Cav be the first to cross the line.

And what colour will Becs’s swimming medal shine?

The lovely Lizzie lifted my spirits to the sky,

with tears of gladness when we both be...

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I’m a catherine wheel, a crackling fire, I’m …

 

 

... an ascending swift, a snowcapped climb,

I pirouette on alpine peaks,

plunge breathless, goosebumped into swirling seas,

cartwheel naked through shapely sand dunes,

run hoodless, grinning in the unrelenting rain.

 

No muted rainbow, nor brown mottled moth;

Subtle shades of nice are never enough.

 

...

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The first time I saw you I thought oh shit,

What have I done, which way is the exit?

You never mentioned your grey streaked beard,

Although I was prepared for plain weird.

But while eccentric is to be expected,

It’s unusual to be GT85 scented,

Poker faced, surly and lycra encased

Oh heaven help me escape here post haste.

 

But I’m polite, a goody two shoes,

...

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Although what we do today feels routine,

a rhythmic activity which can seem mundane,

I still remember the very first time,

that whirl of surprise, then joy ... satisfaction.

I know back then it wasn't with you,

but a chance encounter, a sweet interlude,

a spiral I  held in my hand for a moment,

a love to be savoured, and longingly pursued,

for the sense of arriva...

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My mistress's breasts I shall not praise,

in ways which take two centuries.

They are not pure nor white as snow,

their nipples are now dangling low.

I won't compare them to luscious peaches,

with skin so soft and free from creases.

 

After the party, your deflated balloons

have more in common than the years' full moons

with these once magnificent rising orbs.

...

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A soul that soars and sings will seldom scream,

nor make a plea filled prayer to open air.

A world of substance not regrets or dreams;

short lived are tears, woes or human cares.

Not just part but at the middle of things,

awake where others sleep behind wide eyes,

rising to the sky by sentient strings

tugged ever upwards on visceral highs.

The moon for all its se...

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When April's sun shines and sings
there's a certain merry mischief
in the precise deft unfolding
of every pale green leaf.

Even world weary hearts dance
as late winter’s shadows lift,
exulting in a stolen chance
to unwrap a precious gift

To hear another's breathing,
to catch a hidden smile,
to see a return in a leaving,
is to dance while life is fragile.

A finest ...

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Grandpa in his weather-worn woolly
worked religiously along the pews.
The penitent peas pushed into place
amidst the soul-saved smell of soil.
He patiently ploughed the errant earth;
dispersed his peace between the rows
and within the still, worshipful silence
only the good were allowed to grow.
That sacred sanctuary stayed undisturbed
but for pardoned pilgrims; the common bir...

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Just_Press_Play

I would

But your leg is in the way.

These - little - things

we say

Simple, shortcuts, safe.

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It felt like failure and it felt like goodbye,

the close of the car door with girl leaving the boy

and the wind around the corner carried no discharged leaves,

the grey cloud hovered but the sky suspended rain,

with regular momentum the evergreen was shaking

as everything around them remained just the same.

 

But the girl left the boy and the girl walked away,

th...

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It's been such a very few short days

since our last intimate embrace,

Yet I can say with an urgent truth

the thing I've missed most is you.

The strain I've felt in that alien place,

How I've suffered for what I'd to do,

left with an ache I can hardly stomach,

and a pressure too great to tolerate.

The colourful pageantry delighted me,

the music, dancers and cl...

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I hope you didn't see me leave,

and that you're not aware I've gone.

I hope I meant much less to you

than your presence meant to me.

Your pseudo intellectual rants

were scathing, shallow and flawed.

With feeling and enthusiasm

I tried to feed your thoughts,

but your responses made me a fool,

and so I was, to care for you.

Hence your four hundred and seven...

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This poem won’t feed the starving

Or even offer food for thought.

This poem won’t clothe the poor

The material is way too short.

This poem won’t shelter an orphan,

Or provide a cover for a widow line.

This poem won’t end dictatorship,

With one voice speaking one person’s rhymes

This poem won’t bring about world peace

Warfare will neither cease nor decrease.

...

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The costly forestry boots our kid insisted

Warmed your twisted feet in the afterlife

Didn’t worry me in the slightest;

For you it was never about the price.

 

It wasn’t your trainers which strained my heart,

Or the leather uppers kicking me in the guts,

not the steel toe caps breaking through healed scars.

Or even rubber wellies wading through the tears.

 

...

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First Edwina Currie came for the eggs,
And I did not protest for I am a chicken.
Then the listeria infiltrated meat pate blunder,
And I did not protest for I was yet too young
To fully appreciate the joy of Melba Toast
Next CJD caused beef’s days to be numbered,
And I did not complain as the prices plummeted,
And it wasn’t only Sundays I enjoyed a roast.
But now they link coli w...

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I googled cougar yesterday, seeking toyboy for women's play; I was surprised with what I saw, ardent boys knocking at my door. When did youth get so sour and cold? Surely cynicism should be for the old. But my worn heart's joyous and jumping; love's so much more than idle humping. It's a laughing, giving swooping feeling, not circumspect of soul revealing, not calculatin...

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Read me a story that's never been told,

show me a lover who'll never grow old.

Bring me flowers that outlive the hours,

touch me with rain from enchanted showers.

Find me a fountain whose silvery spray

falls onto faces then trickles away,

gentle as dew on an infant's first morning,

warm as a rose on which tears are falling.

Stroke my cold cheek with fingers that ...

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Etna re-awakens

The library re-opens

The old guy’s wallet returns

Ant music is having a re-run

And I, I feel removed.

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Take my hand and together let's fly free.

Yield to the pull of the far off mountains

and to the salty smell of the cold sea.

Man made walls can't contain you and me,

this fake enclosure of faint fragile lines;

if I exhale the bricks will quiver and concede,

as you too can choose to freely surrender

and accept a filigree of pale shells as a gift,

give your consent...

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I killed my mother earlier today,

It was Joy who made me do it,

after such heart rending kind renditions,

I felt it would be cathartic.

 

I killed my mother this very morning,

Aiden showed me the way

to finally find an appropriate time

for respect, remorse and goodbye.

 

It was an apt action on Mother's Day,

a suitable show of devotion,

the final ...

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Today your handlebars

were the antlers of a stately stag in rut.

Yesterday they were coathangers,

wires flexing with my clutch.

Some days they are noodles

twitching just beyond my reach,

but today they were proud and poised

leading me on my way.

 

Your pedals today were nonstick pans,

feet floating off each prance,

your pedals are outsized jam lids,

...

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The first boy I kissed was a kind and courteous youth

With a motorbike and leather jacket he came across so smooth.

Our chaste late teenage romance seemed to feel like love

Til I left for study and he found someone else.

The second third and fourth have vanished without trace,

No memory remains; not a name nor a face.

The lips of this young lady always willingly upturned

...

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He had it coming don't you know?

He deserved everything he got.

The bastard shouldn't have done it;

all the way into town I'd had to go.

She'd gone on and on and made a fuss;

to shut her up I got on the bus,

i even took a shopping list;

her sister's coming with the kids.

Just get some of those fancy cakes,

the ones with icing and a cherry on top,

with cre...

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If you are the jumper then I am the wool,

and if you were the wardrobe I'd be the nails.

If I were a lampshade, you'd be the bulb

and if I were a curtain, you'd be the rail.

If my life were a race you'd be the finish line,

or if it was a pumpkin seed you're the sunshine.

If my love were a paperback you'd be on the cover

and if it were a mobile you'd supply the credit...

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I can see chocolate, I can see brie,

cupboards full of possibility.

Crumpets dripping with liquid butter,

hot wok oil and pine nuts splutter,

crispy fat on bacon rashers,

cheese and potatos squelched by masher.

Cushions of creamy mozarella,

chorizo sausage and prawn paella.

My tongue swims in warm saliva

at the mention of braised pigs liver,

my stomach gu...

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The snow made my road look clean,

grey-brown ruts and cracks became pristine,

and the cleansing power of the rain

only restored all the hidden shame

of broken paving slabs patched with tarmac,

crumbling kurb stones and crooked drains,

mismatched roof tiles, weeds in gutters

dog and cat shit now uncovered;

a washed up wonderland rediscovered.

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You're only up the stairs,

moved recently from view,

you hear my happy shout,

and yes, I love you too.

 

Only in our bedroom

putting something right,

frowning in concentration

with sleeves rolled up tight.

 

Capable hands and forearms,

you're smiling at my call,

whistling through your teeth,

tapping on the wall.

 

Only in the next room...

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Every parcel is wrapped by Amazon

and my new best friend is now the postman.

My nephew's a pudding in the Nativity Play

and agnostic inlaws kneel and pray.

Festive drinks all stink of cinnamon

spiced sausages and biscuits pose as German.

Joan while drunk had sex with Gordon;

I leave by taxi at a quarter past ten.

...

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When I wake on winter mornings

and the central heating's failed,

I ignore the alarm's warning

until my bladder has prevailed.

Then I take my fur lined slippers

and I don my fleecy jumper,

run to where the air is crisper,

touch the cold seat with a whimper.

 

When the thermostat is working,

and the outlet pipes have thawed,

another problem must be lurk...

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I’ve admired your images on the internet,
seen your profile, followed your career.  With interest
a speculative e-mail I delivered fondly,
not too formal, not too long, crafted to be friendly.
You responded, a brief but kind request
For further information, and you sent your best
regards for my assistance, and then wished me well.
I can imagine you my virile French gazelle
Ex bi...

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I've spent five empty years

where every facial expression

is just a gap between tears.

I wanted the world to remain as it was

and point blank refuse to adjust to my loss.

No sunrises, no beaches, no roses in flower,

no fond recollection of recent fine hours,

just a few not posed for photographs

of what once was and now is past.

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We vow to shield but splatter
the soldiers in Afghan
with pretty propaganda
about what we need of man
to even out democracy
without arguments but arms
and use placebo platitudes.
a fooling no-one charm.

Signing up at sixteen
had always been his dream
he could have been
he would have been
a grown man in time.

At eighteen with his maker
and not his loving mother;
...

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Taking the dining room by surprise,

it didn't try to cover its blushes.

The pride it displayed in those pink flushes

was disturbing to this cold cynic's eyes.

it laughed at me, dismayed by the warmth

of living light here uninvited,

and as I left by the nearest door

its mocking chuckle never abated.

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Maybe I won't drink tonight,

won't hold my glass up to the light.

Perhaps the cork will stay intact,

the bottle resting in the rack.

A little tipple does no harm,

bears no grudges, tweaks no alarm.

Just a small swig to help me sleep;

save me from counting endless sheep.

Oh, it's still too soon to go to bed;

Well … only another sip of red.

No point now to ...

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Dopamine and seratonin

with seemingly whimsical shift

magnify my bile and moaning

til every nerve reverbs with conflict.

The faint hearted keep their distance

when my hormones rudely intrude,

turning sorrow into grievance,

spitting expletives sharp and crude.

I know it's merely PMT

which brings about this change in me,

but that doesn't help me fetter

...

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Today's my birthday, I turn and say

to the young man sitting to my side.

He looks at me in some surprise;

words unspoken, speak:

Seriously, at your age you continue to trace

the number of years you've stayed alive?

And I question myself, what it means

to celebrate a day that's just a date

which measures only the distance

from birth to now.

When the future...

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If you can wake up every morning groaning

And still raise your head above the pillow,

If you can hit the alarm without moaning,

And stoically accept an all time low,

If you can reach clean clothes each week day morning,

And feel your way to a cup of hot tea,

While finding handbag, phone and key ring,

but not give in to anxiety.

 

If you can take on a pounding...

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Every pity a pithy platitude

pecking at ears too tired to hear.

I'm so sorry for your loss they exude,

isn't it too soon to return my dear?

I think you're marvellous to cope so well

pounds at her protesting brain.  No outlet

to explain they enshroud an empty shell

in a net of lies and angry regret,

tethered down by wellwishers assumptions,

the widest wires no...

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The once lardy lad from the Isle of Man

aggressive in the press because he can -

the evidence suggests pocket a win

in as many sprint finishes as nine.

The coveted pink jersey becomes him;

no better assertion of macho man

then to wear that prized colour with aplomb.

 

From the parliamentary democracy

Of Luxembourg, Andy Schrek I forsee

As contender for fi...

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Listen up climber boy, my feeling is this,

This girl ain’t waiting up on no kiss;

She’s hooking those bolts with one thing in mind

And it ain’t the chalk bag on your behind.

Come on climber boy let me see that swing

Cos climbing up walls ain’t my only thing

 

Smear it up.

Heel hook.

Body Thrust.

 

Push it up climber man, your arse is mine,

Hit the...

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How do you now touch me,

either heart or body?

With an ethereal tendril

sent by thoughts so gentle,

but no longer bound by

a soul in earth or sky?

 

How then can you hear my

anguished or imploring cry?

With no ears to hear me,

it resonates clearly

that no distant reply

implies a curt goodbye.

 

If you could see me now,

you know I keep ...

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