Give thanks for every step you take

that you can make it,

thanks for each thought

that you can think it.

Bless each moment's constant rebirth

then give thanks for the bounty of mother earth.

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All those long hours

days, weeks caged into jobs with no prospects.

Odd one out

lost to the streets he walked

in snatched lunch hours

with a cheap camera, curious

capturing moments on little glassy eyed

strips of film snaking glistening

unwinding from the tank

hung out to dry, teardrops of history

in the making,

a hobby and more besides,

a way of life. 

...

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I talk to my anger as I would to a wild dog

or pray to it as to a wild God

either way it's the same

hard to give it a name

but you pick at the knot

anti-spray it with reason

suffer the more

and choke it off

until the feeling subsides

while others pat you on the head

as if to say "ok, there's nothing you can do,"

and would I want to?

there is no finishing li...

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The man in the mattress stood himself up

and became an incredible sight,

a rare example of fly tipping,

he mainly came out at night.

In spite of his strange appearance,

he seldom gave cause for concern,

for his simple belief in the life that he led

was a lesson in nothing to learn.

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You touched my hand,

I was a stranger in paradise

stranger than fiction.

Come to think of it,

I don't dwell on them too often,

such moments of benediction.

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But once a year

out of obscurity glory flares

in decisive moments every year

far from where bullets tore at the fabric

flags are hoisted high

to a grave whisper of tattered dreams.

No questions asked of why,

better to do and die.

Then the fabric is once more re-stitched

at small shrines again

tributes dusted down, candles lit

trying to make some sense of it,

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Being a musician and therefore unworthy

they put you down the front of the ship

in a virtual windowless cell,

prey to every plunging and ascending swell

as if the passengers might dance on your grave

but the view to the horizon is a great leveller

and the big apple awaits

for its Leonardos and Kates,

I guess,

ah yes!  I remember it well.

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I hold the world in my hands

to make what I may of it.

They open and close,

grasping with the frenzy of fish

what they can find

and so it must be

from three to ninety three

until, by some outside design

they cease to be of my world

cease to be part of me.

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On Hallowe'en I saw a sight

two mothers with daughters of the night

in supermarket skeleton clothes

all breathless with excitement there

and in my headlights as I passed

they gave their elemental game away

no element of surprise you see

A conformity of plan no doubt

to wake the dead not yet entombed

and offer them some ghastly deal

invigorated by the seventh seal

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She would have waited

though some didn't,

on a street corner

she would have been there

waiting in a rooftop restaurant,

or by a tall oak streaked with light,

on a station concourse

I would have found her

I tell myself,

I tell myself she may be waiting still. 

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A train terminating in Troon

brings Harry and Megan to town,

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 Fitzpartick will open her cafe

tastefully rebuilt. 

Penelope Keith will be there,

with wonderful teeth and hair,

Megan Markle will be sure to sparkle,

...

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Jacko Wiseman died in the garden

he'd be the first to own up

never take on something you can't finish,

that took him by surprise.

Apart from that he was a capable man,

more than ready with his fists

and anything that came to hand.

He knew the Krays and the Richardsons too

did bits of business, never went inside,

would always buy you a drink in the Albion,

forever...

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What rhymes with bucket

is my thought for the day,

no prizes i'm afraid

but don't go away,

There may be other challenges

who can say.

Until then,

fuck it, i've said it anyway.

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I hadn't noticed the circus in town

all those immigrant species,

flora and fauna on days of rain

until the sun shone again,

and saw then that the ox carts had arrived

the pony traps,

waggons with all their paraphernalia,

chain gangs of spider's webs

all those colours that welcome light

showing off in wild abandon were there,

the dependencies of bees on flowers,

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A piece of land if cleared

will provide a suitable setting:

a pig's or sheep's bladder leather bound

secured with stitches

can be fashioned into a facsmilie of the globe

made to fly above the ground

or propelled along it

by the agency of human intervention

that will be the intention.

There will soon arise a system of attack

and defence whereby the bladder

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"Masochistic lonely widow

seeks rip off merchant

for sex and violation.

Anything goes, leading to

deprivation of funds.

Has previous experience of con men

unlimited private income,

can spot a liar a mile away.

Enjoys the charade of brief courtships

the sharing of company.

I always carry a weapon. "

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They come home

pleading with wild eyes;

and every time you lose them

you miss them even more,

with each haunting welcome them back

as though they would always be there

reliving your despair.

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Up, up the raven flies

from the Tower's scaly height,

and in its coal black downward view

the Thames is shrouded

as low slung day

turns to charcoal night.

This he sees:

Sailing ships are scuttling

encrusting the sun's last rays

the spines of wharves close - pressed

for all the world's commercial gaze.

Matelot and lashkar dark and fair

come to Chinatown...

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In Maryland, in Maryland

Freddie Foreman had a pub

had a pub in Maryland.

In that pub

plans were laid.

Frank Mitchell dumped into the channel

not under concrete as some suspected,

No evidence was ever found.

The story finally ran to ground

courtesy of Freddie himself,

double jeopardy let him off

although he'd already done some time.

Confession the...

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I read my poem in retrospect

my response to his comment

a show of respect

for his trouble taken,

the sharp eye for detail

well thought out

intelligent

balanced

his comment taken down.

And then I realized my friend was gone

no trace remaining

of his welcome song,

the stuff of his life

his wit and wisdom

removed as if it had never been,

the space era...

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It's good not to understand things

wise to have some doubt,

frustrating though it may be

to those who've worked things out.

For them the game is over

ahead and yet behind

while you in golden searching

have so much left to find.

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Flags

uniforms

alliances

defiances

causes of conflict

frustrations thereof

hopes for world peace

always out of reach

just autumn leaves

that served their purpose once

like silver tongues

sacrifices to the Gods.

Rallies

blind alleys

slave galleys pulling together

for the cause no-one can foresee

in the crows nest of my life

it all seems much of a m...

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When the aliens come

we'll teach them about love

not destruction

co habitation

instead of ethnic cleansing

how to co-exist.

They can help us save the planet

having reached us from the great beyond.

We can show them our brave new towns

shopping malls

how to be obese

obsequious to VIPs

feel at ease in social circles

how gravity really helps.

T...

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Here where the light shows itself off

a canal turns its back on the buildings

sniffs and moves on,

draws itself into dead ends

doubles back to check bridges

its reflection, its meanderings,

spreads out to tease banks

garlanded, with tresses that tumble,

is pleased with its imperceptible flow

lays on its back in pools of sun

blends into night as dark dreams begin.

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I apply a light to the bowl of my pipe

draw flame through the tobacco;

its secrets of pleasure are soon revealed

chasing the air in a pact.

We smoke together,

nothing can come between us

except time, never lasting forever.

On lonely days

I take to manicuring the briar

buffing it like an apple ripe

filling her bowl with new delight

then, once again I complete t...

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They loved to do the Palais glide

now it seems they've let things slide,

both recline with swollen ankles,

the slightest conversation wrankles.

Medals line their mantelpiece

a programme cover displaying Grease,

there's still a space where costumes hang

they wore to sing doo lang a lang.

Their style and flair caused much kerfuffle,

now they can barely do the shu...

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Eva and Stanley are on sun loungers

    Derek and his mongrel have had a bad night in Wigan

Eva and Stanley have a 3000 dollar a night cabin

    the weather wasn't kind to Derek and his sleeping bag is soaked through

Eva and Stanley are sailing from Gibraltar on the Queen of the Seas

    Derek tries to find a hostel to dry off; he is hungry and has a nasty cough.

Eva and Stanley ...

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i don't drink much

now ain't that sad,

I see the world the way I see it

and know it well

ah well - so be it.

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Wheeler dealers - all the same

deception a lifelong tragic game,

your hopes and dreams go in their pot

they'll fleece you rotten

take whatever you've got.

No Christian ethics to stay their hand

they already own the promised land.

I got to know one only once

a ready fellow who staked his claim.

A chirpy wit

full of shit

he taught me much

with his Midas touch

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What choice would you make:

A life sentence

or a death sentence.

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THE PLANETS KNOW THEIR PLACE

WE DON'T

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My tather walks with suitable aplomb

into the premises of G A Dunn

to select a tweed of autumn hue

for winter journeys to Waterloo.

Although this takes place on the other side

he still maintains a sense of pride

returning to shops he favoured when

I was around the age of ten.

As I awake the image fades,

outside I see the autumn shades,

will dress myself to f...

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Me and Johnny Gold went to Julie's place to find Frankie.

He never knew we was coming.  We just wanted verbals

to see what his story was about the job at the jewellers

in Barnet, like why he was brought in behind our backs?

He was always a bit handy with shooters so we got tooled

up just in case.  Needn't have bothered - when we got there

he'd scarpered. Julie said she hadn't see...

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Times were rough for the Punch and Judy Man

this year harder by far

until with the arthritis kicking in

Samuel hit rock bottom.

With health and safety measures newly imposed

looming large

his enthusiasm for the seaside art

like the tide ebbed away.

On that fateful day

while Mr Punch, Judy, the Policeman

and The Dog were silent and stiff

Samuel drew a blade acr...

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I speak of Julia the Peculiar

whose female subjects could not

have been unrulier.

Their grievances and demands

were more than met

with macho men under permanent threat.

The tables were turned on the male elite

who were under the thumb

and under Julia if the fancy took her

but commonly spat upon,

jeered at in the street.

Parlament was held uner party whip

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As keeper of the garden

I notice things

interventions,

Today it is a skirmish on the lawn.

A cluster of bluebottles

at the smothered grey slick of a mouse

I wonder where they all come from

for nature to call them so promptly

attentive at the worm of entrails.

I don't see the cat often,

he left a turd as marker,

a barnstorm of a smell,

with more bl...

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Nose to tail grazing

 cars sniff each other

like dogs on heat,

their owners restless, confined

waiting for the next excuse me roundabout

disorderly speeding entry and exit;

farting exhausts add to the ambience

of furious delay,

all sorts of imagined incursions

of assumed priorities,

valued expected space.

These are the beasts of burden

with their armch...

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I wanna be one of the noisy boys

I wanna be one of the boys,

striding about with power tools

showing off my toys.

I wanna get kitted with engines fitted

that smell and cut and chop,

things with extensions of massive dimensions

the biggest in the shop.

I'll cut my way through night and day

creating havoc wherever I go,

be a very noisy neighbour

reaping tro...

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Sometimes it's the simple truths

that are hard to look in the eye

so used we are to fabrication

and the obligations of disguise,

Just for today try to be honest,

let the raw dogs out of your house

to scramble to their heart's content

while you let them go and search for offal

not your concern.

They might have their place

but yours should be seasoned

with ...

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I could see a face beneath the ice

deprived of air to breathe

without a voice,

trapped inside a frosted world

that gave no heed, no blessed welcome

save the Universal One

the Holy Ghost lingering there

a shadow in the deepest deep

all secrets alone forever to keep.

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RE ARRANGE THESE WORDS

INTO A WELL KNOWN

PHRASE OR SAYING

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Little more than urchins

we were discoverers along dusty terrain

scuffing about with dilapidated bikes

atop old dump hills and down

to jar our bones and test our nerve

cross legged playing with fag cards

using provided handkerchiefs to tie marbles

gorging on the remains of old sweets

ready to burst, so keen we were,

with the ghosts of industry our backdrop,

skele...

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Your shoelace is undone, she said

which threw me quite off balance,

for such considerations run

outside my sphere of talents.

Such observations that ladies tell

will bring us down to earth

from higher realms wherein we dwell,

challenging our worth.

A shoe is just a metaphor

when in that state the ladies find us,

to rescue us from siren's muse

and use thei...

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I could say nothing

and still the thoughts would come,

some questioning in disbelief

like marauding cats, persistent

upon the hauntings of old bones and scraps,

some creative, toying with mayhem

of my own making, and for what?

Still the pictures would come

from the other side of older deaths

that stick to walls

held by winds that blow

from God knows where -

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We long to be free

my piano and me.

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I'm waiting

just waiting

for urination

The time is right

the urge is right

but the train is as it were

held up outside the station.

Young men either side of me

continue on their merry way

while this old fella

waits for the off

managing just a nervous cough.

imagining trees and cows

porcelain extrusions

fostering old youthful illusi...

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Light is dripping from the trees,

the nectar of July under a silver sky

collected by the air

is the breath that I take.

Could this be the season of fear that's talked of,

just a poison cup offered

by the mind so twisted

as to pervert all joy?

If so I am misled by what I see

and feel on this so special of days

when nature hangs full of promise

for the taki...

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Snapped shut on the poacher's leg

the iron cage in its hide of bracken bites

with a dark declaration of blood

through a tangle of fustian,

matted hair jerked back with a brief cry,

a dead rabbit thrown clear by the shock.

He was spotted under an early sky

first by the beagle then the farmer.

Taken all but dead

back to the tack room on the estate

to survive with a...

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When static ruled the airwaves,

Britain never being slaves,

morse code across the bows of uncertain ships

took to the skies, while

receivers were tuned to the shipping forecast

just as I twiddled on my crystal set

in a bakelite bedroom

before the dark doom of oceanic night

and heard that calm voice proclaim:

"Faroes, North Utsire,

north west four or five increa...

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Mary had a little watch

she swallowed it one day

now she's taking castor oil

to pass the time away

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Gone are the moats

now gates are in place

threats of invasion everywhere.

Deliveries as of old wait in the cold

no - one throws open a bedroom window to say:

"Here boy: take this half a crown,

bring me the biggest turkey in town.

What would be the the point?

Yet Daddy never forgets to read

Dicken's tales of earlier times

when the Peter Pan children go up to ...

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I used to sit and watch the sea

its closeness to eternity

with all my thoughts centred on self

in a rush, in a rush

like the waves' rough and tumble

of seeming confusion -

an endless discussion;

neither the sky nor the water gave way

yet all the elements had their say.

For myself encased in a world without end

my lonely voices would never blend

until I disco...

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In the twilight zone of the home

news has just arrived from Bellatrix

so I am told.

It says the tea was weak today.

Nobody could explain it away,

nor how the security locks could be disabled

by judicious use of medication and Aesop's Fables.

I saw the book on the communal shelf

next to the maxi remote control

which was used for communication I was told

to contact...

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They came as one in their big black shoes,

ties whose patterns like newsprint

told the big story.

It was time......

(now is always the time in their world).

Under their arms the black book

shone with the weight of lead

and lights shone in their heads

as they welcomed you to dark dramas

only they could begin to explain.

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I shall write crap

about tickle and slap,

no detail spared

anatomically shared.

Bad taste no longer embarrassing

a close second to online harassing

the obvious answer

to pull the punters.

That's the way to go

to stimulate the poetry flow

and fuck inspiration up the arse

using the simple device of a cock

such endless pleasure to unlock.

It's no ...

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Fathers celebrated everywhere

it's only right they should have a card

an identity with loving thoughts

firmness and fairness shining through

to seal the bond

from early days to the great beyond

but I must stand aside

my stepsons otherwise engaged

as the rule of Kings and earthly things

still binds by blood

what I can't give

as long as all of us shall live.

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She thought them childish

and once they were

as we rolled them along the carless gutters

of a yesteryear

and watched them clink and bounce

with skilled abandon

then pocket them.

Yes, I suppose that was childish

but the memory is clear

and now again I see them

all bubbling up at me:

languid glass,

feathered,

refined

and tell her how can roll ...

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We'd like to be the jigsaw piece

that fits into the bigger picture

making sense of pointlessness

to make another life complete.

There's wonder in it, how it works

your future designed with that in mind

yet  it happens often without a plan

when you fold the fingers of another's hand.

Sadly puzzles being what they are

back in a box you go at last

leaving a mem...

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Knowing he'd not got long to go

his best friend asked him

what would really make his day,

and if he could help in any way

to lift his ailing spirits.

    "A prostitute!" was his immediate reply

    and so his friend found a comely maiden

    strong of eye, fair of figure,

    of enigmatic nature,

    soft of speech, a kindly soul.

When she heard the friend's...

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Uncle Fred, recently dead

came back suddenly to life

at number 32 Tavistock Crescent

and made a mockery of the present

while trams went by with a metal sigh,

and our hands were joined as we held our breath.

The tiny voice began to issue

from somewhere near the aspidistra

while Mrs Mulvaney in a velvet dress

appeared to be in some distress,

and the trams went by w...

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At the Church of the Sacred Heart

the inner coolness refreshes,

thoughts have echoes

as a man walks with measured tread

to the confessional.

Perched in penitence he hears

a disembodied voice.

"Welcome O troubled one -

your confidences are safe with us,

your welfare is our main concern.

   In recent times we may have overreached our agenda

   but wish to r...

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The pigeon is a miracle of digestion,

like a 747 lands anywhere it can find a space

flaps down to decimate the garden plan

of spring delights.

Like the whale with plankton

the succulent buds it doth consume,

and once re-fuelled, flaps up

its beady flight it doth resume.

For the rest of the year its diet is basic,

then it dreams of long distance and messages carried,

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There is the blackbird on a high roof point

above a void of wall.

A coil of sound trembles there,

who will hear the call?

The fresh and thundery air

senses the fever of spring,

fledglings test their early wings,

all is urgency.

Then the circle completes

with a liquid response

distant and clear,

a worm of sound

sculpted perfectly for my human ear.

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The doctor told me frankly:

said i'd had issues

leading to an event

which turned into an episode.

Well I didn't know what he meant.

I 'ad been feeling dicky,

quite icky from time to time

so I put meself in 'is 'ands, as you do.

Five days in orspital,

the works, the full monty.

Orders to cut out smoking,

I thought: you must be joking.

Now there's f...

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Social media is a sweat gland,

some sweating more freely than others,

but all is excreted.

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Pigs are in blankets

too late to save them now.

Better to forget porky

and drain a cow.

McDonalds never had a farm

never EE I EE I EE I owned one.

The world of food goes round and round,

what eats and provides it

returns to the ground.

Consider the chicken's versatility,

a life of service, of total futility.

Incidentally sheep may not safely graze

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The bagpipes make a canny sound

that make your head go round and round.

Or could it be the whisky's touch

that makes it happen quite so much?

I canna tell if the truth be known,

for when I hear that dreadful groan

I always reach for liquid solace

and suffer more than William Wallace.

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I grasp the rails, climb the steps,

climb the steps, grasp the rails,

grasp the rails, climb the steps,

then on to the top board,

a slim springing finger of accusation,

a jibe, a nazi salute

over the blue sequence of water.

My feet are ridiculous, inadequate,

heart ready to burst

but the decision has been made,

no going back.

Since those early days I have...

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The sneezathon was quite an affair

with every sneeze recorded there.

To be eligible and part of the fold,

everyone had to be full of cold.

For safe excretion tissues were issued

allowing for bursts and repetitions,

every excretion counting as one

and carried on 'til day was done.

A scoreboard was put up for all to see,

with a tick for every discernible blow;

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Close your eyes

visualize blackness

velvet starless night.

Leave your toy soldiers behind,

fine ways to change the world,

those they will guard.

Become as nothingness

that has purpose of itself

hold on to blackness

to velvet starless night.

The changing of the guard was just a dream

before the light came

on the face of the waters.

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Vincent Price, actor extraordinaire

reaches into his cloak with large sympathetic hands,

smiles with that crooked cataclysm of a face,

eyebrows as restless as Tower Bridge,

pulls back the velvet to reveal plum red lining

and have us fooled;

what might happen next?

will there be bats or spiders

or perhaps the Tingler.

He merely recites in broad sweeps

as camp...

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I first noticed the village pump some years ago

when there were farms, spreading fields,

a lovers lane, open sky to the west.

Today, I find a maze of habitation,

a settlement satisfied with itself,

taking serenity for granted

leaving such little trace;

a pond of sorts surviving,

crude tyre marks of mountain bikes

bloodied by mud at the bank.

I was frank...

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On mushroom hill

the ground is rich with promise

fertile all consuming,

through veins the pulse is carried

and the blossom of caps

tender, secretive with nightmares

of sweet languor,

butter wouldn't melt in our mouths

on mushroom hill.

This muted sun, the schism

of autumn bounty may be

the last you'll see

as sink down to mould

you surely must,

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The professor was found

staring wide eyed straight ahead

brow deeply furrowed,

his hand gripping a pen,

an unfinished sentence,

starburst ink blots,

a book open showing hieroglyphs.

Heavy drapes were drawn tight

deep scratchmarks on his face

a pair of spectacles torn away.

Outside the rain hammered insistently

like answers on the wind.

His servant...

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Such a dreamer,

he was going to some planetary body, he said

when no one was looking,

with that old tortoiseshell suitcase with the stickers.

He saw himself en route

bound by purpose and a strange sense of gravity.

Had packed his case with all he held dear,

significant papers and artefacts:

old perfume bottles his wife thought thrown away,

a diary or two, hand wound...

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So this was the great shark's tooth coastal edge

screaming against the riven waves

and me crazed with air on the brink

the drilling tide roaring up to my feet

reminding me of life

and its necessary sacrifice

in living to the death,

 the reckless turmoil

against the teeth of the gale;

so brief, so frail

yet here I was pitted,

and stood with hearing impaled

u...

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I'm like:  what do you mean by saying what you said

and he's like: saying what

so i'm like: the way you spoke to me yesterday

and he's like: I didn't though

then i'm like: you know you did and I didn't like it

so he's like: you're making it up

and i'm like: why would I make it up

then he goes quiet.

So i'm like: that's your trouble you go into a shell

when you ...

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She stood under the eaves of a shed,

door open, inviting him in.

"This was his world, everything has to go," she said.

"There's a light switch somewhere."

Then he peered about.

Everything exactly as it had been left.

Chests of tools, walls pegged for ready access.

A woodwork bench with vices.

Racks of chisels - the smell of linseed oil.

Cabinets with escut...

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Multi coloured pants and socks

hold sway upon my washing line

like an audience of tropical birds

anticipating the equinox.

Left overnight they turn to bats

like domestic acrobats.

And when the line is cleared again

I willl not wish them back again.

But should I hang such thoughts of mine

on any future visible line

I hope they'll have sufficient airing

pre...

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I kept   filling   the gaps

with fish             but still

the water came through

until there was  no deep

           left deep enough

      no fish large enough

        to fill my fish mouth

                       with water.

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Don't look now

but here comes Julie Christie in mourning;

Nick Roeg is a flash of colour in a gondola.

Those doe eyes of Donald Sutherland

beseeching flocks of birds up the canals

escaping his presentiments

reflected in mosaics

that shatter dreams of old sinking doges

in wet flannel palaces.

Your ticket will soon expire,

best drop it and clear out

before the e...

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Ensnared in the lyrics of romantic songs

dressed to kill with a story to tell

no one wants to hear.

Lend me your ear.

Not today - nor any other day

yet the lyrics weave their spell.

Hollow footsteps up my spine

those of only me and mine.

A lonely echo of a silent voice.

Is there a meaning?   who can tell.

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The cyclist in his struggle for hill supremacy

seems to be keeping up with the hawk overhead.

Competition has no place in it.

Then suddenly wings flex in turbulent air

divert from the snake path

off to far fields

where tiny dimples appear on a fringe of wheat.

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This platform is for Infinity

spake the railway worker

his words lost on the wind

as he passed.

I was looking in the wrong direction

but I knew what he meant.

If Infinity is a slow process

that would account for the gap

that I was minded of

between me and where I thought I was going.

and was it worth waiting for?

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It's always the insignificant that takes hold

by surprise.

The toys of children,

formerly cherished then discarded,

victims to moving on,

though sometimes in the fullness of their purpose

while still held in thrall,

something goes badly wrong;

the caretaker gets taken away.

That's when those toys remain as pearls to parents

along with photographs

as remin...

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Mum looks out of the photowallet

on a special day, specially posed,

a spray of flowers on an oak ashtray column

to one side,

her hands neatly folded on her lap

in that bloom of confidence

that says it's ok finally to be alone

as long as people still care

which of course we do and they do.

It sits in my shadow undefeated,

a beacon to light a corner.

It's not qu...

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Amidst life is death

as in my workshop,

just above the window

a bier for moths, trapped

and drained by the invisible lord of webs.

In fact there are two when I think of it

which sometimes I do,

and leave them  as proof of

the scaling down of needs and purpose.

The window plays tricks there,

shows them in a beauty parade

a haunting disturbance of light and...

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Music swirls in caressing spirals,

embracing a shelf of favourite books

thumbed and enjoyed over the years,

each proud and stiffened spine caressed

like mist around oaks once young.

Some of those covers showing their age

and I smile

at the music, its immediacy

and at the desperation of stored print,

the ludicrous desire to know all.

For now I have given up b...

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I said goodnight to the peppers

my wife had prepared for freezing;

on their ends they stood

showing puckered dimples,

reds greens and yellows.

Smooth, glossy

in a virginal sort of way.

With the night light on

they watched me

like effigies coming to life.

That night I dreamed of Alien,

woke up constricted in the throat

just a dryness and sense of relief

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There's a cleft in a rock where blood flows out

from a gorge in Turkestan,

accessible only by arduous routes,

those who see it are mightily uplifted.

A blind man apparently started to see

when the sun came round at a quarter to three

on a highly significant alignment day.

A man sells ice cream from a four by four

a queue discreetly off to one side,

many pilgrim...

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A temple is a place of worship

a space for hymns and prayer,

a sad and lonely empty place

when no one worships there.

Yet dreams live on in time and space

and nature abhors a vacuum.

A word of advice I offer

on the way to paradise:

ignore the guards as you enter in

you cannot lose, but you cannot win.

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I'm in love with Matt Baker

he's a mover and shaker,

 impeccably human and warm,

a master of challenges

rickshaws and ropes

and he always seems on form.

I know he is young and I am quite old

but he's very mature and incredibly bold,

enthusiastic, masochistic,

a guru of the gritstone hold.

I have a strong sense

that we might mend a fence

in the Dales wi...

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Betray her not with flowers,

while sharing her sweet scent.

Her petals take time to open

and spring may yet repent.

For she who belongs to nature

has passions of her own.

So shade your restless cloisters

wherein you foster your pretty games,

lest you perjure her moonglow dreams

and bring her down in flames.

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I've come over all funny recently;

gone to the doctors

got the results.

Apparently i've been tested positive

whatever that means;

i'm in the system now.

I don't know wnether to laugh or cry

I have to think positive,  he said;

I thought I was already.

Suddenly i'm staring at the calendar

that list of days,

chocolate box pictures,

me going out of th...

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I have been past these gates before,

seen paradise's ugly face,

lived through discovery and disgrace.

But now the earth is giving back.

T'was duty that would call me then -

a welcome now, no call to arms,

and as I breathe the still, sweet air

will pass the gate to prospects fair.

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I sit,

wait for nothing to happen in particular,

knowing so well the drift of listless time,

enjoying the suspension of moments

and how everything stirs

from sleep into wakefulness.

I heard the call of meditation,,

it's clarity and seductive stance;

the coast is clear,

so still more I wait,

in stillness.

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Golgotha and the Berlin bunker

both scenes of significant deaths and tears,

Gethsemane and Auschwitz twinned with each other

where prayers rang out

to fall on deaf ears.

Disciples carried out their orders

the disposal of material evidence,

shrouded in myth and mystery.

Life goes on in the same old way,

fairly mysterious I have to say.

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On my birthday, the seventy fifth of my life

Storm Eric dropped in.

The skies broke wind

gusting spring bulb selections in plastic bowers

making communities of blown bags.

Tall boundary hedges bristled,

long loping evergreens

careened across the ragged landscape

blunted with rain.

A harsh but necessary greeting it felt

leaving me happy as witness

to the l...

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Always beware

what lies there,

of what is concealed

hiding behind the limbs of trees

lurking in the far off field.

Beware of yourself

all a - tremble

at the hushed wraith that dissolves

and dissembles

and keeps everything for itself

leaving you on the periphery.

Prod it with a stick,

watch it swirl on your clothes.

Bound to be a witch or two

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Mr. Shopland (insurance man)

visited once a month in specs and a trilby,

scuffed ledger to hand,

chipper, breezily discussing the weather,

fair or foul,

his bike propped beside him

a Hercules with Miller dynamo.

Stood in our porch to collect insurance.

This ritual grew with me as a child;

the peremptory knock,

an inward gush of air,

red tiled porch as wel...

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Nature turned the taps on by midday,

trees heavily laden with snow

bowed to the master,

shuddered and relieved themselves

uncontrollably.

The sun saw the funny side of it,

put on its shiny face

before sinking down again

behind the monoblocks of sheds

saying goodbye to crocuses and snowdrops

risen from last night's treacherous duvet of white.

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On the treadmill arguments go round,

a seeming progress,

the world goes by unaware

uncaring.

Our minds like cogs grinding,

attitudes, prejudices clogging up the process.

Refreshing waters of peace

so close we could drown

our sorrows in them, and yet....

and yet births and deaths come and go,

rivers flow,

our minds in contravention.

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I hadn't seen her for some time

but the dolls in her pram hadn't changed.

She had got older of course,

more haggard,

but still the nurturing went on

willing herself into the background,

her dedication a flight from reality.

She seemed to have taken to the streets

since her low key cafeteria was glammed up

throwing a spotlight on her entourage,

raising more questi...

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Memories like keepsakes

they have to tell

clinging to life on the edge

of pits and ovens still

have to let us know of

those they loved whose lives

were parted to the bone

departed from their rightful place

have to relive for history's sake

the interminable pointless ache

leaving their mark on youth's

wide open expectations,

living now in relative grace...

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Successive stars have forged their name

in the heat of the cinema killing game.

Sylvester Stallone stands alone for

rampant destruction for a worthy cause;

Liam Neeson has added a frisson

of genuine grievance to other's malfeasance.

The list is endless but there'll always be

the biters of bullets for you and me.

The English have an admiration

for more subtle means o...

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I'm thinking of an ending

not to life, that's too drastic

but to some remote drama

too painful to resolve

that everyone would eagerly await.

I suppose that won't happen,

as endings require a push start at least

to lead up to themselves.

Mostly ideas just end up on shelves.

Life can be tantalizing

but mostly needs revising

to stay ahead of the game -

no...

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He stood as if to hold up the wall,

looking down, leaning in,

his face obscured.

Behind him, a penumbra of wet traffic

lit up a thin stream

ongoing, seeking an outsource,

a purpose; at the drain it said goodbye

with a blush of steam,

just enough to remind me

of the persistent thud of need

taken from the well

and re-distributed.

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I saw her standing there

and suddenly thought;

what a wonderful title for a song;

but of course i'm not the Beatles,

so using the idea would have been so very wrong.

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It's only right we should cheer ourselves up

when hearing of the death of innocents,

of those fresh from the womb,

and of those who have outstayed their welcome

through age; of those who were

in the way of someone's plans

through strife, moving objects,

gun or knife, it's only right.

It's only right we should feel guilty

though innocent ourselves, for who would not

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Gawd strewth, there ain't no bluebirds round 'ere,

no whippoorwills neither,

the sparrers are getting rarer too,

though I did see one in Waterloo.

What with the flyovers taking to the sky

there's only pigeons that seem to fly.

Why O why can't we hear the bells

get our East End back agin'

with the corner pubs, the rub a dub dubs

as we used to call 'em.

It's a...

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Hall of fame

a wall of flame.

What's in the pipeline,

what's in a name?

Worshippers of taste

going to waste.

The playthings we treasure

with poison laced.

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When Nanny died, her hot water bottle cried;

"I've no one to warm up," she sighed.

Hiding her maker's mark face down,

as sad as a cast off children's clown.

The charity shops refused to take her

saying she was unhygienic,

and even though she was made of rubber

and quite dried out, she began to blubber.

In spite of her fondness for bodily contact

she'd reached t...

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There's a little cove on Cornwall's coast

where a lady is writing her latest book

making the most of the atmosphere,

imagining drifting boats in the sun

and sporty chaps in flannels with pipes

or controlling types with attitude and gripes;

and someone is falling in love again.

No fast food outlets to spoil the view

of a harbour wall where gulls descend.

No slicks or...

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The sign at the inn swung like a gallows,

the light lay low on the heath.

Old Ben was in his settle

sucking baccy through his teeth.

Puddles formed on the flagstones

where a one - eyed dog stood watch;

underneath a ragged sky

the inn was dark as a crotch,

except for a fire - lit window

that glowed like a winter star,

through which a cluster of faces took in

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