Autobiography (Remove filter)
Ah' Chris mate. 8th June 1982. Falklands One
Ah' Chris mate. 8th June 1982. Falklands One
Ah’ Chris mate,
What a fate,
We’d laughed
and cavorted
Before the fun.
I’d had sex
In Pompey
And lots of rum.
It’d take a lot
To make us run.
You in your engine room
Me in mine.
All seemed well
All seemed fine.
Your ship
Was knightly
Mine was grey.
As we both looked
Out on that mis...
Tuesday 16th February 2021 10:54 am
Stories to tell early 1980
Cathy was my friend.
I was twenty.
Cathy was twenty three.
she worked
at British Home Stores.
On the counter
where lipstick
and smells jostled.
Colours for the nose.
Candy for the eye.
She was pretty.
Very pretty.
We’d meet in
The pub.
“The Cheese”.
We’d drink.
We’d get stoned.
And go and
have sex.
We didn’t
make love.
...
Sunday 10th February 2019 11:05 pm
68 Grafton St 1977
We took acid
Saw things
We stumbled across
Hull university
Fields
With reds and yellows
Blues and glowing
Things floating
In our heads
So funny
We laughed
And called and yelled
And danced
And pretended
We were famous
Musicians
And we went home
We became a football team
And kicked the ball in
The living room
Where we did
Everythin...
Saturday 9th February 2019 6:15 pm
A night out in Jack Dempsy's bar New York. 1980.
Oh god. Oh Dear.
A hangover in New York New York.
Small recollections through
hazes of alcohol pulsed pain.
Shaking fingers fumbling
for coffee and cigarette.
In a dark wood cased cabin
from sweat stinking bunk.
A million other people
who jerked through the same dance
Night before around the world.
I stepped in time with you.
On subways that fled past
...
Sunday 3rd February 2019 10:11 pm
RETROSPECTIVE
i
Innocent
he met a force
Untried
it held him
... and wonder drained the world of substance
re-arranged the pages of his book to give more radiant a reading.
The light of new possibilities
pressed down on time.
The girl sang to him "You can hear the boats go by". He
l...
Saturday 16th September 2017 6:06 pm
Martin Thinks I'm Catholic
Martin Thinks I’m Catholic
With thanks to Andy N, for suggesting it
My father adored me. He cuddled me in his arms
after my birth and said, Doesn’t she look intelligent, love?
My mother believed I wasted that intelligence raising babies.
I was relieved disappointment had no place in her grateful sigh,
as I arrived at the hospital in time to watch her die.
My brothers consider ...
Wednesday 14th June 2017 10:12 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on HANA REINER, WHO WERE YOU?
34 minutes ago
John Coopey on HANA REINER, WHO WERE YOU?
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on HANA REINER, WHO WERE YOU?
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on The last laureates
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on HANA REINER, WHO WERE YOU?
2 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on Man With the Big Set of Keys.
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Tortoises and Hares
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Life Blood
2 hours ago
Marla Joy on Tortoises and Hares
9 hours ago
Marla Joy on A letter to the heart
9 hours ago