Old New Town

This city of steady solid columns.

Of cobbles, potholes and greying rains.

Whose wynds take you up, to aspire to better.

And lift you higher only to pull you down again.

Built on solid rock, the colder and the wetter.

Old swamp was drained and cows driven out the gate.

King Arthur broods with craggy chin and saddle hard

And spires and turrets, bridges of kin...

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Carpe Diem

To be young again, carefree, and be

Only me, free of responsibility.

You see, context is key,

I hope you agree that we

Live and grow like a tree,

Branch out and roots go deep

Which may at times keep us steady,

Ready to go or stay

And after hours, night and day

Passes, months become years,

And age amasses. Our fears

Allay and gray days hide the sun

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You can lose yourself without boundaries.

 Lines in the sand, with no paths or signs.

Slip the lead, loose the reins and leave your compass

Behind as you follow your firefly heart

And wallow in marshmallow words,

Cushioned by caution, leap over the mark.

Relish the freefall of a brand new start.

And hours are timeless and full

Of boundless beauty, life with no limit…

Lif...

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Doors

Break with vowels the locks from iron mill gates,

Unblock the doors long shut.

And cut with words the tape in gold and black,

wake the hive Bring the bees back,

display your lines to keep the thoughts alive

In bars and bistros, parks, cafés, in rhymes…

May we meet, greet and fling wide

Our doors as on the silenced street

We stop outside, shoot the breeze, the...

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I am, he thought, not where I want to be

Or should be, I feel misplaced
Lost, a missed opportunity.

My frame has drifted far away from me

The faded space is left to see,

The hook is still there, no hanging now, but empty.

My square peg has been hammered

Into this round hole.

My lines are stammered, fluffed my starring role

The curtain falls,

An open goal is scuffed,,

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To be young again, carefree, and be

Only me, free of responsibility.

You see, context is key,

I hope you agree that we

Live and grow like a tree,

Branch out and roots go deep

Which may at times keep us steady,

Ready to go or stay

And after hours, night and day

Passes, months become years,

And age amasses. Our fears

Allay and gray days hide the sun

But freewhe...

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Superhero Love?

She had a thing for Spiderman,

she loved his legs so hairy.

Some would shriek and run the tap,

she never found him scary,

The way he walked,

his great big eyes,

he drove her up the wall.

But he never did the dusting,

in fact, no work at all,

On the web hour after hour,

hanging round all day.

For her he lost his superpowe...

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Words of Wisdom

Don’t look in the branches for what’s found in the root,

The peak of the mountain is found from the foot.

And all those who wander may not be lost.

Our profit is built… but not without cost.

At times you may feel your spark may have died,

But seek not in others what lies deep inside.

Distraction, diversion can get you some way,

But live in the pain for ...

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POSH

Have you ever used a bidet

For washing feet or bits?

Or played a round of croquet

Had high tea at the Ritz?

Are you good with 12 bore shotguns

When on a peasant shoot?

Is your name too double barrelled

Are your family full of loot?

Have you eaten oysters, caviar

Or used a butter knife?

Do you know what canapes are

Are Defenders on your drive?

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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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 Granny Hi Tech

My mum’s been posting selfies… at the age of ninety two!

She’s becoming all tech savvy, whilst I haven’t got a clue.

They say a dog can get too old to teach itself new tricks,

But she’s on Twitter, Instagram, even downloads from Netflix.

It all started back in her 80s, when the tablets which she took

Were traded in one hi-tech day for a brand new i-mac book.

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Tupperware

After all, at the end of the day,

Close of play, stumps up, bails off,

A good innings, shuffling off

The silver foil, the cling film

And the tupperwares, preserving stuff

That kept the leftovers fresh

For another day.  All is done.

A life of order, now the rest

Is silence, ticking clocks.

And boxes, bags for preloved sale

Or bins, has beens, the bon...

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Under Parr’s Wood

A Poem inspired by Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, as read by Richard Burton, and set on Burton Road in Didsbury…

To begin at the beginning…or the end of the road, which is a kind of a beginning.

It is Spring, and the mosque stands guard, though few burqas promenade its street or frequent its bars. Its spire punctures the sky, echoes of the old Methodist Chapel, an...

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The Ballad of Bearded Chorlton

Is Chorlton feeling cross

At the recent price of fuel?

Or worried that its neighbourhood

Is looking much less cool?

Are parents getting angry

At the lack of fairy lights

Is the message going viral

That the precinct’s still quite shite?

Are there gangs of undesirables

Skulking round our cars?

Caught on doorbell cams at n...

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Fingers Crossed

The buds now open, sun dispels the dark

The nights of bat give way to morning lark.

And as we emerge, blinking, into the light,

Brim full with fright, and delight,

Apprehensive, yet pensive of all we have faced

And what may lie ahead, braced

Despite it all, against the odds

We hold hands aloft, with fingers crossed.

When threads seem thin which hold...

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Psychedelic Cheek

He’s the epitome of bravado

In his sunshine yellow suit

His shirt is avocado

And his after shave is Brut.

With his round handled black umbrella

And his bright green kipper tie

He’s quite a unique fella

A dashing kind of guy.

He’s become a local landmark

Parading Chorlton’s streets

He’s never been to Primark

He has psychedelic chi...

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She

And you may feel I am too loud

Too in your face, a bit too much

For you to take, but leave me

Be and you will see this is not about you

And though I say I’m tight and might

Say more than others have before

I do not need you to tell me I’m right

Or feed my ego, tell me you love

The way I flick my hair

Or how I lick each word

That slips from my lips as I rea...

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When the masks come off

When the masks come off, what will we see,

A spitting rage or smile of empathy?

Who will we be, will our eyes at last see free

Or will we blindly stumble, lead by lies on our tv

Away from our best to a broken rumble, a grumble

At how things are, compared with how they used to be.

Hands scrubbed clean, Face, rarely fully seen,

Space demand...

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Age

Does it all come down to this?

A daily crossword, an unchecked list

A wish, a kiss and curtain open morning

A body struggling to move, to sit

Without the pain of feeling it.

The struggle dragging on your sock

And watching seconds pass on mantle clock

A life well lived becomes a yawning

As drooping eyes and sagging jaw

Become the life which once was so much mo...

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Another cheery poem

I hear the rain patter on my window pane

As lockdown looms again I feel pain

When will the sun from clouds emerge again?

This world has changed, gone quite insane

Problems of the past seem small and tame

We writhe and shake, against each deadly strain

Stay in, save lives, the never ending refrain.

And as we face another day alone at home

I sit at...

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Scroll On

We unroll our scroll as our lives unfurl

White space marked with lines, a playful spiral,

Notes our early days, our growth from shape to letter

Fitting together, standing beside

Then better words whether short or longer

Till linked and joined by others, we trace

Our lives by a face, a hand, and

Move onwards, at times flowing, going gently,

Smooth from line to ...

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Last Orders

The bloodshot eyes and shuffling gait

The chilling sound of words of hate

Hairy hands from foreign lands,

The hounds of Hell that light expel.

They drool and stare with unkempt hair

 And grubby nails, tattoos as well.

A howling scream, a warning bell

And gulping down their steaming potions

They tumble out with great commotion

To shuffle, stumble on the st...

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The Caterpillar Club

Plummeting seawards, my up side

Turned down, heels over head,

Tombstoning, like a balloon of lead.

In freefall, all grip slipped, plot lost

I fell from Grace, at pace, tumbling impostor,

Confidence shot, like a plumb line, trying

To straighten myself out, find again my bearings.

Inner imploding, mind exploding,

With ruminations, recriminations,

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So bid we farewell to Andy and Jel

With sadness and loss, but some joy as well,

For they are our friends, we know this will stay,

Long after the van takes their stuff away.

Andy has this house and how they have more, 

As they head to the land of hills and of Moor.

So raise up your glasses and take a wee sup,

And toast their departure, with Bottom’s Up!

The house just behind...

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Ups and Downs

Infection rates rocket, the world closes down,

Pick up the cases, stay in and alone.

High on the agendas, our confidence low,

To stop the infection, better stay home.

Down time in garden, uploading zoom,

Upturn economy, folk feeling down, 

Shutters all down, no-one in town.

All down to the cock up,

Top brass give low down,

With graphs sometimes risi...

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Loved up in Lock Down

I got loved up in lockdown, we got on really well

In moments of great crisis, on love our thoughts did dwell.

It started with some flirting, some chats and emails too,

On skype we kept on meeting, to help to get us through.

And then it got more serious, we moved it onto zoom

As Larry on the portly side said my heart just went boom.

We chatted for for...

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A 20:20 Vision

On the one hand, it’s thumbs up for this lock down,

For hand on heart, I prefer a gentler town.

We’ve lost our human contacts, now back in touch,

A world for reaching out, with more time and much 

Space for taking and for making stock.

We knead our dough, and minds unlock,

And saws are sharpened in this time of rest,

When breath and nature seem to teach ...

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Fingers Crossed

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst,

By this natural quirk our future is cursed.

Keep on keeping on and show your best side,

Together we’ll one day have parties outside.

We hide in our prison cells, watching tv,

The birds in our garden, the buds on the tree,

Our freedoms so precious now need to be lost,

As we sit here in fear, our fingers ...

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Kicks with Joe

My story is much too sad to be told, 

In lockdown, everything’s leaving me cold.

The only exception is plain to see…

Each morning after I’ve been for a pee,

And made my first cup of tea

When blurrily I switch on and see

His healthy body…

I get no kicks from champagne,

My tonic and gin

Can’t help me begin

To feel like I’m gonna get through,

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And after last bleak one, I'd like to give some balance with this message of hope and love.  

Finders Keepers

by mike booth

Wednesday 4th September 2019 5:53 pm

Hide and Seek

Put fear on the list of things you should lose

With odd socks and gloves and your second best shoes.

Let regret go with burdensome guilt,

Give them away with your second hand quilt.

Composure and pe...

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Wrote this back in 2018... and its apocalyptic tone feels frighteningly relevant now.  But as I said then, I hope we can find morsels of hope and build on love and community in these challenging times...

Write HOPE on your arm!

by mike booth

Saturday 29th September 2018 9:28 am

In the recent storms and typhoons, I heard advice from US police to people not evacuating to write theirnames...

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My dear IKEA: Flat Pack Crack Up

If the cracks start to appear

If life breaks through its thin veneer

If you pine for a new idea,

Get on down to your IKEA.

In Spring time mostly this shop calls,

As couples picture their new halls

Nightlights and beanbags in its walls,

And promise too of three meatballs!

Brochure life, you shuffle through,

Bedrooms, sofa...

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Under Parr’s Wood

A Poem inspired by Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, as read by Richard Burton, and set on Burton Road in Didsbury…

To begin at the beginning…or the end of the road, which is a kind of a beginning.

It is Spring, and the mosque stands guard, though few burqas promenade its street or frequent its bars. Its spire punctures the sky, echoes of the old Methodist Chapel and...

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The Northern Society /Grim Up North?

The Northern Club meets on t’ outskirts of town

In t’club wi’t sign fer Newcastle Brown,

T’greyhounds and whippets are tied up outside

As all things Northern are treated wi pride.

There’s chips and there’s gravy and dollops of peas

Nowt wrong wi dripping or tripe on steak pies.

No mither or scriking, no fuss and nae bother,

Just old...

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The Ballad of Brexit

They’ve banned the salsa in Stretford

Stopped pasta in Heaton Moor

They’ve put a full cork on prosecco

As part of the First Brexit War.

No pizzas allowed now in Burnage,

Chopped Salami in Cheetham Hill.

Bratwurst are now quite forbidden,

For fear Krauts may make us quite ill.

Olives are spiked now in Chorlton,

 Spaghetti is banned in Mos...

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Hide and Seek

Put fear on the list of things you should lose

With odd socks and gloves and your second best shoes.

Let regret go with burdensome guilt,

Give them away with your second hand quilt.

Composure and peace can often seem hid,

Like the start of the sellotape orTupperware lid.

The loss of the key to your bike lock or shed,

 Is nothing to losing control of your head.

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Written in Widnes Station, in tribute to Paul Simon

I’m sitting in the railway station

Life’s meeting all low expectations

New philosophy, half full bucket

My way forward? Just say fuck it!

Don’t hold back or hide your talents

Go for life and keep your balance,

Just remember, long time dead,

Your only brakes are in your head.

Your angry chimp can’t hold you back,

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It’s not you, it’s me

I fell for you years ago, a coup de foudre,

With your Mediterranean looks,

Your art, your culture, your Latin moods.

I devoured you, from the hors d’oeuvres to the tapas,

From the fondues to the Swiss Roll.

We blended like fine wine, like Cointreau and ice.

But now we’ve got tangled, like spaghetti

Distance relationships are always nice.

City b...

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Standing on the corner, there seemed little hope of a taxi. Horizontal rain drove into my face, despite attempts to tilt my umbrella, like a knight’s lance, against the elements.  Each car which passed seemed to chuckle as it sprayed a rainbow of shower drops onto my sodden trousers which clung to me like seal skin. Drips rode down my neck and I could feel a growing paddling pool forming in my squ...

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Specs and Mugs and Sausage Rolls

(With apologies to Ian Dury)

In this world of parties, life can be quite frantic,

But my sad old life can feel quite anaesthetic,

Some may go to clubs, I nibble a club biscuit,

Worry ‘bout my mortgage, and my broadband bandwidth, 

Some go shake their asses, I hunt for my glasses,

Some do lines of cocaine, drink coke I get a migraine,

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Fuck It

I’m sitting in the railway station

Life’s meeting all low expectations

New philosophy, half full bucket

My way forward? Just say fuck it!

Don’t hold back or hide your talents

Go for life and keep your balance,

Just remember, long time dead,

Your only brakes are in your head.

Your angry chimp can’t hold you back,

Best form of defence? Attack!

So watch o...

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Labels

We called them tramps in those days, dossers or, with condescending

And ironic respect, Gentlemen of the road.

For they were all men, of a certain age, certain smell,

Clutching their plastic bags, with coats tied round with string, or rope.

They walked the land, in laybys, country lanes, from King’s Lynn

To Bury St Edmunds in search of a meal, the next doss-house in which

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Wanted to write about the creative urge and how it relates to ego.  A bit philosophical, so Descartes' famous phrase I think therefore I am, Cogito Ergo Sum, came to mind for a title.... Not really polished yet, but see what you think...

Poetico Ego Some

I write therefore I am

What I want to be,

I read because I can

Have others listen to me.

I think I’ve found a rhyme,

An...

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What with all the omnishambles of Brexit, I got to thinking about what our national identity really is.  When you think about it, we have some pretty bizarre national symbols, but ultimately what does it mean to be British / English, etc?  See what you think of this...

Rule Britannia?

Our national dish is curry, true,

Our Saint is George who dragons slew,

From Yorkshire field...

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Breaking the Laws…

They repealed the law of gravity

They said it with such clarity

To tackle the disparity

Between total hilarity

And absolute insanity

A whole mess in entirety, 

It was all up in the air.

The law of relativity

Supported our community.

Unique individuality

Was now our top priority

Selfies and technology

Replaced our core humanity,

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In the recent storms and typhoons, I heard advice from US police to people not evacuating to write theirnames on their arms as it might be the only way to identify them.  This somewhat brutal advice inspiredthe following rather apocalyptic poem - if you look closely I hope you can find a message of hope! 

Run for the Hills

Write your name upon your arm,

On your sleeve tattoo you...

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Superhero Love?

She had a thing for Spiderman, she loved his legs so hairy,

Some would shriek and run the tap, she never found him scary,

The way he walked, his great big eyes, he drove her up the wall.

But he never did the dusting, in fact no work at all,

Spent all his time just on the web,

Hanging round all day.

She had to tell him all the time

Don’t touch ...

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Get up and Gone

I remember when my uncle, with watery eyes,

Told me how his get up and go

Had got up and gone.

We were looking at the framed photo of his wife,

40 years together, and now only one.

His shoulders shook, a man once so strong,

Used to laughter, drinks and quick with a quip or joke.

And I remember when I too lost sight of the sun,

My vision blurred,...

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Granny Hi Tech

 My mum’s been posting selfies… at the age of ninety two!

She’s becoming all tech savvy, whilst I haven’t got a clue.

They say a dog can get too old to teach itself new tricks,

But she’s on Twitter, Instagram, even downloads from Netflix.

It all started back at 80, when the tablets which she took

Turned into a new device, a brand new i-mac book.

She logged on to...

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When Clio Met Rio… For Better or Verso

“You dipstick!” she said, slipping into her mini,

You went through the gears, but don’t get ideas.

Chrysler! Don’t try to air con me,

Corsa you love me, I misread your signals,

My stick shift all tingles

Never did run smooth, true love’s Corsa,

Don’t leave me to break down,

All on the hard shoulder.

She began to tire, feeling d...

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