PAAAARRRTTTTYYYY!

“Ey up owd lad, tha does look glum!” Peter said one day, (he’d spent a while up north near Leeds, that’s why he spoke that way.)

“What’s to do?  Tha’s sittin there wi a face like milkman’s hoss. I’ve nivver seed thee look that way, whatever ails thee boss?” 

His boss looked up, all ashen faced, a pallor on his skin, and whispered “Pete, I’ve had enough, It’s time I jack...

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Edge

Gone is the mind where love and hope once played,
She feels the urge to paint a world with blood.
She watches moonlight dance along the blade.

She dreams a world of red in every shade,
Would banish all the rainbow if she could.
Gone is the mind where love and hope once played.

All trust now shredded, reason torn and frayed,
A hollow corpse where once a woman stood;
She watches moonlight dance along th...

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undercurrents

I only glimpse it now, so far away, but bright and clear.

The rapture of  a fading world - another place, some other year.

Those nights of shattered moonlight strewn on marbled seas,

where frangipani whispers were caresses on the breeze.

From the shadow of the palms I watched you dance

the tideline, shed your silks, and with one glance

you robbed my soul and beckoned wit...

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you won’t be good for me
but I don’t care.
I know the connotations
of the colour of your hair.
red screams danger,
warning, stay away.
maybe I should try
a little danger fix
today.

you won’t be nice to me
and I don’t mind.
nice girls normally don’t
I often find.
and who needs nice
in preference
to rollercoaster thrills?
when nice can suffocate
and boredom slowly kills.

you won’t be...

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she sits

she knits

the needles click

as strand by strand

in cracked crabbed hands

each stitch

might haul them

back to land

her days, her nights are one, the same -

a gift of darkness borne by grief

to wounds already salted well.

lips taste each quarter

of the wind; she hears the tides

advance, retreat -

as if in echoes from

some  ancient stranded shell.

she feels t...

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A hearty breakfast

We take our coffee black these days,
Saccharined and sugar free.
Our milk of human kindness soured
To curds and whey, to you and me.
And over silent breakfasts sit.
Where headline barricades rise up.
We shed no tears for what was spilled,
When lips once kissed our loving cup.
Our toast is dry and always burned,
The marmalade, now bitter peel
And all we’ve left is crusts and...

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