“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...
Friday 18th December 2009 7:35 pm
a curse - for the mildly irritating
For those who’ve meddled, ired or slighted,
For those who’ve peeved or pinched or blighted
Or fibbed or fooled or faked - or worse
Upon them ever be this curse:
May your earnest endeavours all end in farce.
May your nostrils migrate to just south of your a**e.
May all your teabags get stuck in the spout.
May your luck and your toilet roll always ru...
Thursday 23rd July 2009 10:40 am
Each Saturday the high street is a canyon of temptation
As the public stare at the proffered wares with awe and approbation.
You can bare your soles at the cobbler’s shop but the chemist’s best for rumours
And dozens queue for a loaf or two when they sniff the baker’s bloomers.
The fishmonger has mussels, the bookshop man’s quite...
Wednesday 15th April 2009 11:41 pm
Appointment with fear!
It's that dreaded time of year
Appointment with fear at nine
Receptionist knows I'm worried
she remembers the drama last time!
I'm dragged kicking and screaming
into the cold clinical dentists den
from that deathly waiting room
Why the hell am I here again?
I stand there ghostly white
I pause, I think he knows I'm scar...
Thursday 5th February 2009 7:21 pm
It was a dirty old day, just a stop on the way
In the sleet and the fog and the rain,
Jams and diversions and unplanned excursions
And drivers with speed on the brain.
When well before noon in the old greasy spoon
Somewhere just off the M one,
(It had seen better days with a jukebox that plays
old ballads from artists long gone.)
In the corner sat Fred, with his cap...
Sunday 18th January 2009 5:26 pm
Some poets dream of metre and scheme, of sonnets and couplets that scan,
But there’s one little word, though it seems quite absurd, that exposes the flaw in their plan.
There’s an amber skinned fruit that has been at the root of the nation’s poetic malaise,
This everyday citrus can find poets witless as they stare at a blank page for days.
If one pairs clementine with lemon and lime repetition...
Sunday 11th January 2009 2:13 am