It was said by some that the church organ

played of its own accord

behind locked doors with no one inside

to do the playing,

but that was when a hesitant wind

sprang across the stubbles of wheat

stretched the branches of trees to harps

and the leaves of hedges with a - rustling

like an ordinance. 

Suffolk byways keep their secrets well

and backs are turned agains...

Read and leave comments (6)

You seldom see them from year to year

but their stars shine bright on a midnight clear,

after the autumn leaves have dropped

on this winter solstice when flames are flaring

it's the time again for caring. 

So just as last year and the year before

you find a name, an address in a book,

write a card of fantasy,

then like a paper dart you cast if off to find

the statut...

Read and leave comments (6)

It seemed like a good idea at the time

the patented gizmo that stands by the wall

with a purpose apparent to no one at all.

So complicated and so much to learn

its box still in store in case of return. 

Medicines stacked on shelves too tall,

relieving digestion and energy slumps

blissfully unaware of your fate

as they head towards their sell by date. 

Clothes t...

Read and leave comments (6)

A winter west wind blows

hangs dreams on dirty curtains

bringing moods in waves,

the windows of souls are rattled

resolves falter,

questions that belong at the altar prevailing,

before the winter destroys all hope

sending all its denizens ailing. 

Read and leave comments (1)

I am restless, primal

as I cradle rhe air rifle

it's stiff toes in a straight line

the head of it full of compressed intention like a snake. 

Its weight of polished wood and spun steel

hides the sperm of its pellet

to be released on impulse

for a chosen target,

penetrate without creation

while my curving finger beckons. 

Read and leave comments (2)

John Betjeman's statue casts its eye

looking up to London heights

an island in the stream of travellers

cast in bronze as befits his station

a symbol of a divided nation,

of those who care for a cherished past

and those who leave that thought behind them. 

Sir John thinks of Metroland

where the burrowing underground meets the sky

close shouldered by avenues of popla...

Read and leave comments (7)

In a home at ninety who has prospects,

who needs them?

better to accept one's fate

no matter how drastic.

Stanley never worked that one out,

he felt in charge of his situation

even that he'd created it,

running the show with all his employees,

his prospects therefore in order,

he could hire and fire

at leat criticize, always expecting more. 

In the cardigans o...

Read and leave comments (3)

The drummer knows his place

dominates his space

with light or heavy tread

the rhythm in his head. 

Draws boxes round the sounds

releases all the hounds

his arms and feet with windmill stance

dominate the restless dance.

With his artists' sticks and brushes

he never drags and never rushes

master of the stretch of skins

he moves in circles widdershins.

Read and leave comments (4)

You can see they're in love, the musicians,

as they lift their instruments like new babies

from the swaddling plush of weathered cases

assemble them with pride, pipework with 

keys and slides, the cacophony of bright silence

before the performance.

Each one a treasure house of stories

stamped with number, maker's name. 

A soldier with his weapon might feel the same

...

Read and leave comments (6)

To these logs I place my flame

to know their loss must be my gain,

for what was beauty in the tree

gives light and life to such as me. 

Read and leave comments (2)

Billy the Kid was an outlaw,

in laws are more subtle in their approach,

so be sure to make checks.

They may have interesting features

like gothic architectural interiors,

but when familiarity takes hold

there is no knowing what may happen. 

The only known cure is isolation

and banishment from the arena.

If none of this is possible

go vigilante, pack six guns

c...

Read and leave comments (6)

Relish your dark woundings,

prime your pellets

check your powders,

for soon comes the hunter's moon. 

Polish your stock,

let your barrel breathe oil,

make slick your cloths' preparations,

practise footfalls of stealth,

for soon comes the hunter's moon. 

While fen and forest

sweat and furrow,

while fur frets in the burrow

hold fast your dreams for now,

Read and leave comments (4)

In the nude my brother aged two

now eighty seven stands on a cafe chair,

his right foot balances on his left.

Supporting him, fingers across his back

thumbs across his chest

my mother smiles with pride. 

She wears a long practical apron

in her Battersea back yard long before the war

and he wears such a knowing look.. 

Read and leave comments (3)

Those terraces, who remembers them now

under blackening skies, cobbles in rain

the scurrying on pavements

sagging tarpaulins on market stalls

cats ferrying spilt waste in gutters?

Who remembers those railway yards,

spirals of lazy steam behind high walls

the billow and slump of washing lines

like fingers crossed for a future,

poster boards pressed to empty sites

...

Read and leave comments (10)

Fields are seeded with bricks and dust

into sterile rows, fast tracked they rise

to vex the spirit, damn the eyes

with promises for a brighter future

seeds that flourish in the developers' pot. 

A showhouse lights the eager way

where saplings attend in vivid green,

a man with tablet is often seen

with figures ready on a folding screen.

Flocks of birds have turn...

Read and leave comments (9)

I scoff them in the kitchen

I scoff them in the lounge,

scoff them in the dining room

i'm always on the scrounge.

I drop them while distracted

I drop them where I can,

never even notice

I have no eating plan.

I scoff them in the cinema

it's quite expected there,

I drop them in the foyer

no one turns a hair. 

In my flaky moments

the house become...

Read and leave comments (11)

We might whisper their names then pass them by

as in a graveyard;

the bite of fate is much too strong

and so often their victims return

to repeat the original crime. 

appearing plausible in every respect

yet inhabiting the soil that yields up

unclean intentions mostly hidden

from those as yet untainted. 

Step warily, for someone trusted may softly visit

on t...

Read and leave comments (4)

My relationship with the bicycle is complete

no impairment of cognition

the experience is mutual

a proper relationship  -

we share memories.

Do you remember? she'll say.

For an answer I challenge her,

develop a sweat while

a fresh wind blows through her hair,

our movements are synchronised

her lean lines a support,

once again she is ripe for sport. 

Read and leave comments (3)

Who grieves for Jimmy Greaves?

Me, in the memory of foot stamping cold

on the terraces in flares, snotty nosed

in the early seventies

walking from Walthamstow,

a dedicated crowd trudging to the ground. 

Me, for my own self struggling with a career,

seeing cigarette smoke rising to a grey sky,

the threat and promise of goals

often nothing but a plunge of dead hands i...

Read and leave comments (7)

Always trust a man in a shirt, the politicians say,

wear a tie for special effect when entering the fray.

If at first you don't succeed just change your upper half

then check that mirrors never lie and all will be OK. 

Read and leave comments (4)

I'm sorry, I nearly remembered your name,

no-one's to blame for that,

but a face i'll never forget

I couldn't recall the place we met

but perhaps it was the same for you. 

We'll never know of course,

such is the way of meeting

and a few words will let us off the hook

but still, behind that blameless look - 

Read and leave comments (4)

Like a threshing machine

casting crotchets quavers

on windswept waves of sound

under a thousand bright suns,

the wheat and the chaff,

gobbets of talent lost

in an ocean of dancing heads. 

Read and leave comments (3)

I'm the guy who clears your gulleys and gutters

I don't touch windows or doors,

A specialist service on the hoof,

I don't do carpets or floors. 

Word of mouth is how I thrive

with a sturdy pair of legs,

I come to you, it's what I do

and take away the dregs. 

Out of sight is out of mind

until the way is blocked,

then I get to grips with sludge

and i'm not ...

Read and leave comments (7)

This is my street, the film proclaimed

an RT bus, a dustcart, camera

above eye level with a railway bridge one end

and a row of uniform terraces.

The plot, a warp and weft

of flash harry on the prowl

steamy cafes,

sleazy nightclubs

cars swung into kerbs. 

Painted doxies and helpless wives

living tainted roles on London streets,

kiddies' dollys in the turb...

Read and leave comments (5)

Baroness Browning is indisposed

upon her back covered in dust

she claws the unfamiliar air,

legs like sticks stuck out each side

the Baroness is in a mess. 

Her feathers are ruffled

she's slightly kerfuffled,

a bantam like her deserves some decorum

but lice are no respecter of chickens

and have to be removed. 

Her owner and daughter pat her with powder

th...

Read and leave comments (6)

Bound as in a spider's last embrace

like a fly bereft of wings in air

shackled o'er a quarry's jagged face

my body slung for pleasure as in a dare.

On a wire suspended and marooned

imagination stretching just for sport

fearful of the gap I lie festooned

as if to walk the plank and count for nought. 

Then like an eagle taking to the sky

plunge in mortal dread de...

Read and leave comments (5)

Two little finches on a feeder

one sings Tosca

the other Aida.

Pleasure created for poets or kings

souls in torment born with wings. 

Read and leave comments (5)

An invisible fox stole my climbing boots

one night when I left them outside.

The shock was so great I looked and I looked

and I looked and I looked until I shooked

with shock it was so great. 

I'd had them seventeen years in all

climbed up Snowdon and walked the Ridgeway 

in summer heat, they were perfectly adapted to my feet

and then an invisible fox stole them f...

Read and leave comments (5)

Robert the Dyas lost Bannockburn

a descendant repelled the English at Culloden

who sold his wares at Scottish fairs

and marketed the sporran. 

Stories like this on wild nights

can shiver the balls off a bull,

but Robert the Dyas lighted the fires

that showed the way for all. 

His family legacy soldiers on

from tartans to tomorite (now in stock)

his reputatio...

Read and leave comments (5)

On the loom of his zither

his fingers dance to the tapestry of music

hither and thither

as spells combine with cigarette smoke

and Austrian wine

to the delight of frau and fraulein.

He weaves on his endless train of dreams

cowbells, sweeping hills

plunging roofs

cobbles and sewers where Harry Lime

met Orson Welles.

Karas became a reluctant star

perform...

Read and leave comments (7)

As we seek help remember

angels don't always have wings

though they often come on hallowed ground,

and our visions can be theirs

so don't look for wings

instead fly too as magic is woven

to lift you. 

Read and leave comments (2)

I knew him through the cracks where music got in

conversations awkward somehow impersonal

but we had seen the light

and the link was as strong a bond

as his role of being my father. 

I could never thank him enough

and that was good enough for him. 

Read and leave comments (3)

Goodbye Enid goodbye

Sunny Stories had me gripped

on go to bed now days

learning words

those animal eyes

gazing fondly into the past

fluffy clouds and garden pots

 other infantile harmless plots. 

As my chrysalis parted

other thoughts began to rise

all taken care of by Mum

Reveillie, Titbits,

salty images,

girls folding and bending

with hands behind t...

Read and leave comments (3)

Inside the garden pot the ants

had been busy behind plastic

confined in their imprinted circuitry

patterns of labour, tunnels of itch

now suddenly disturbed by my wrenching

of the Christmas tree,

enough years serving its purpose

of annual celebration,

dressed with solar bulbs and red leaves,

lately abandoned

starved of nutrition but stubbornly surviving. 

Read and leave comments (3)

The neighbours from hell have recently arrived

with hooved feet tails and tridents.

They seem OK

moderately well behaved

law abiding, pleasant of aspect

contrary to regulations and expectations. 

Apart from an occasional sulphur cloud

that compromises the flowers

they seem to pose no threat

even inviting us in for tea and toast

with bell book and candle

and a ...

Read and leave comments (2)

She wore sensible shoes

featured on her Plain Jane website.

Other props included a lollipop and plaits,

twenty denier stockings and a tweed skirt. 

Her pendulous breasts came to rest on her lap

and with legs crossed she looked the part,

the phone never stopped ringing,

a backlog arose.

She wore sensible shoes,

an idea picked up from a district nurse.

He...

Read and leave comments (5)

Says Punchinello to Pinocchio

(who's trying to take over the action:)

"one of us has got to go

and it ain't me see, Pinocchio."

But Pinocchio, a made guy now

with bodyguards and all that jazz

says "i'm the number one, so scram!"

Then Mr.Punch pulls out a pistol -

blam blam, raspberry jam

turns on his heel and says to the crowd

"i'm not the guy you think I am...

Read and leave comments (1)

A train terminating in Troon

brings Harry and Megan to town (toon)

the Lord Lieutenant will carry the pennant

there'll be swapping of keys and a spoon. 

Harry will wear his kilt

Megan dressed up to the hilt,

Mrs Fitzpatrick will open her cafe

tastefully rebuilt.

Penelope Keith will be there

with wonderful teeth and hair,

Megan Markle will be sure to sparkle

Read and leave comments (3)

I've written all the words I wish to impress,

thought every thought on the way.

But still I join the poetry express -

where it'll end up is anyone's guess

and tomorrow's a brand new day. 

Read and leave comments (3)

Gone and done it now

never meant to but still

they had it coming.

I feel better for it

pushed too far Mr Nice guy

that was me

until.....

psychiatric reports, a sentence,

too dangerous on the streets. 

     Had to make the point

     otherwise they'd have got the better

     of me and I couldn't have that

     could I?

     Can't expect you to understand

Read and leave comments (7)

Tucked behind a slip road

fringed by chestnut trees

Middlesex nights were spent

on a bridge over a Burmese river,

in a shower with Janet Leigh

at western saloons

through double doors at the Astoria. 

Restaurant above where my auntie worked

back in the day,

forthcoming film clips in frames

tempted us boys to flaunt the censors' warnings

U A or X and even H.

...

Read and leave comments (1)

SWEET VALENTINE

SUPERMARKET LOVE OF MINE

I WILL TOAST YOU IN ROSES RED

WITH THEIR VAMPIRE'S LIPS

AND WITH THIS CARD WILL SUPER DRESS

OUR MANTELPIECE

SUPPORTER OF KNICK KNACKS AND YEARLY DREAMS. 

Read and leave comments (2)

Firstly the cupboard as tall and as wide as a dormitory

inside the master's cane as thin as a whisper coiled. 

The precision of ritual sacrosanct with rightul pain,

the outstretched hand a plea for mercy ignored,

a scything sting, the suspension of disbelief, 

Grim set face at one end, sultry witness at the other.

Overarching all this the stiff upper lip

twitching with th...

Read and leave comments (4)

Light floods in to illuminate our special day,

Mum all a-bustle

preparing the way

for the scrubbed and considered version of my father,

head of the family, old before I was born. 

The light turns to sun as we spill

from the tipped taxi onto a London bound platform

await the dark green masterpiece

of an all singing all dancing electric train

that takes us in art deco...

Read and leave comments (2)

Bereavement brings its retinue, such a long line

coiling around your entrails, hanging onto your coat tails

endlessly posing questions. 

The answers, if they come, are always hollow,

echoes on long tunnel walls in dim light. 

When you are confounded don't try using reason

wish it well, let it go on its way

there will be other things on your mind. 

Read and leave comments (4)

Nineteen eighty four came and went

like any other year 

big brother

and you never blinked an eye.

Some lessons to be learned no doubt

but within the context of raising expectations

Thatcher made her move

of which some wide boys did approve. 

Some tokens were retained

like the numbers and the tags

redesigned by master computers

and then the issuing of volu...

Read and leave comments (5)

ALAS POOR YURIC

MY NOCTURNAL STAINS ARE PURE SULPHURIC

HE KNEW ME WELL

BUT COULDN'T STAND THE SMELL

Read and leave comments (3)

Annabelle Annabelle give it a rest

take a break

chill.

I knew when I got the itinerary

every T crossed, every I dotted

that it would be a disaster,

over managed

in spite of all your hopes and expectations. 

The venue with its local radio presence

had nowhere to park,

got there too early. 

"No not this entrance - Tony will take you round."

Doormen,...

Read and leave comments (7)

"It's the one above yours,

the haunted attic room,"

said a friendly musician 

in a sober moment 

after I heard an old man speak from a heavy chair

while falling asleep.

During that summer season at Poole

we had our honeymoon,

needing to work

with Peters and Lee,

Max Bygraves topping the bill. 

Chas and Dave were there in another suite.

The sun was rising on...

Read and leave comments (6)

Some days are just days

do you no favours -

other days you'd like to revisit

on rainy days. 

All days are significant

if you make the most of them

but often you feel this only applies

on certain days -

usually other days. 

Read and leave comments (3)

Those half baked dreams

the endless regimes

the papering over cracks

exercising relentlessly then

not being able to relax. 

Those pleasantries with neighbours

perilously close to truth

the preparations for DIY

the incipient leaking roof. 

These and other gallantries

while others roll over and die

it all seems vaguely threatening

like a smut in the ungu...

Read and leave comments (5)

Musicians, like sluts

will exploit their art

for its own sake

but chiefly to satisfy those who will employ them. 

Will turn a pretty tune

reach deep into the secret box

bring succour to a welcome room

make the world a better place

and when the moment passes

are soon forgotten. 

To raise that all important profile

the clever ones get better pimps

broadc...

Read and leave comments (3)

I built my walls of words

constructed some ideas,

multi layered with gravitas

defining weight with leaden wings

that could have flown if I had known

the sky instead of earth alone. 

The weight of words that filled my head

could never turn these walls to spires

and so I made myself a prison open to the sky

and never found the way to climb,

no, not such as I. 

Read and leave comments (3)