Poetry Blogs (2013, age)
poemagraphic on YOU ARE THE MUSIC - revised (currently being recorded) (8 hours ago)
Tied down to time
You've committed a crime
By showing some signs
That you're older
Wrinkles & lines
Cutting it fine
Now you've started
Stuck to your back
Is youth that
Like a shadow
Of the grim reaper
Eyes wide shut
You're staying put
That's why you're
Time keeps flying
Tuesday 10th September 2019 5:48 pm
I’ve always supported freedom and equality
I wanted minorities to have equal opportunity.
I believed in promoting a liberal social order,
Showing non-aggression and peace at the border.
I wanted to teach the world to live in perfect harmony,
So that our new Utopia would all be down to me,
But my kids are proper communists,
They want to overthrow the state.
They will give ev...
Tuesday 19th February 2019 2:06 pm
I wonder where they go? Your looks have left you all haggard
and old and derelict like so many different coloured mirrors,
all shattered to jagged shards. Black mirror, silver, green, blue.
What wicked bits remain put back together in a kaleidoscope
of evil colour contrasting to your lost beauty.
Like your dreary voice so very ancient. When will you die?
Thursday 5th April 2018 8:24 am
A poem about getting old... and staying young.
May I Never
I may never rule the world with theories so fine
May never run past Bolt, smile and duck across the line.
I may never meet Mandela, Obama or the Queen,
I may never solve all wars, or stop leaders being mean.
I may never reach a hundred, run for thirty miles,
I may never help the hungry, turn their cries to happy...
Wednesday 10th January 2018 10:33 am
It was surprising that after work, on Thursday,
she wanted to meet and share her bed with a man, again.
Maybe men, even, she thought, suddenly indecisive and guilty,
but for society, men, peers, their judgment, their pursed lips and nods of disapproval.
Now that she was almost home, her fireplace and Scotch seemed dearer, as usual;
the icy blanket of her acceptance of undesired celi...
Friday 21st July 2017 9:10 pm
Teenagers, cycling across the Dales
up country roads in the seventies sun
wheels turning, chests burning
on our way to Tan Hill Inn
Too young to drink then
we'd sit in the garden
catch our breath and if we're lucky
maybe the northern lights
I'd take photographs
thinking to myself
one day I'll bring my wife here
one day I'll bring my children
if I have any
and we'd cycle home
Tuesday 20th June 2017 8:06 pm
In loving, I set myself up for loss,
In caring, broken by those who don't give a toss,
What is the point in this moment or next?
We all end up broken, more broken, bereft...
From start to finish just feels like a flash,
Earn money, more money, broken for cash,
Tired and more tired waiting for sweet release,
When death's knell calls, signalling my peace
So what is ...
Monday 29th May 2017 11:06 pm
When we were young
we raged against the storm
biting at our hormones,
engulfing our senses
and our sensibilities.
The deep penetrating
oxblood on our
Doctor Martin boots
to an indignant sheen.
split ends and acne,
Shredded Wheat moustache.
A groove worn on the chin
by pondering fingers.
Wednesday 1st February 2017 7:10 pm
I’m in the elevator
Going higher and higher.
I’m taking the lift to the sixtieth floor
Though I can’t really see myself opening the door.
I often think about reaching that floor
I won’t be the first;
People have been there before.
I guess it’s all normal for a man of my age
It’s like reading a book and turning the page.
I’m taking the li...
Tuesday 20th September 2016 7:18 pm
He nods to one side
Gives in to a few minutes
Maybe half an hour’s worth of tiredness.
In his bungalow
Time is stood still
Mid afternoon melts in through the curtains
Through the half open window.
Outside impatient young mums
Scold their primary school children for wanting to go on the swings
When they just want to get back home
And plant them in front of the tv
Sunday 22nd May 2016 9:31 pm
I Am The Scarecrow
I am the scarecrow.
Hanging from this wooden frame,
a skeleton of twisted wood
that creaks and groans in protest
at the ravages of age.
The ice cold rain
trickles through my straw flesh
bringing chills to every movement
and dull aches to the knotted joints.
I am the scarecrow.
My sack-cloth head
full of sawdust ideas
that spill fr...
Thursday 21st January 2016 2:13 pm
Young and wrinkly
You are not getting old
But numerically you've advanced
No, you're not getting old
You're just chronologically enhanced.
You are not growing up
But of this much I am sure
To avoid growing up
We must become more immature.
We must dance until our joints creak
And sing until we can't speak,
Laugh until our lungs ache
And love until ...
Sunday 10th January 2016 10:23 am
She drags tired heels
across a tainted floor,
poise slightly bowed
and her back is sore.
She holds on her face
a cold marble stare,
a hard life engraved
upon cheeks once so fair.
Her faulting movements,
once graceful; divine,
her aching limbs now
with guile, defy
her final performance
on this dark empty stage,
of a much better age...
Sunday 28th June 2015 9:36 am
There’s a bench in the park where an old couple sit
holding hands and laughing as the children play and flit
about on the swings and slides with boundless joy,
inciting memories of when they were girl and boy.
The antics of the kids so full of life and carefree bliss,
their lives laid out before them on paths that time would kiss.
They’ve been sitting on that bench for ...
Wednesday 24th June 2015 5:50 pm
As a new day dawns and I open my eyes
I look upon a world in painless surprise.
A smile creeps across my hopeful face
as I lie in bed, my comfy place.
A tentative move; a testing stretch but
then comes a cough and my face is etched
with pain, like a stalker in darkened streets
as I grudgingly rise to my unsteady feet.
Reaching to grab at the windowsill and
Thursday 4th June 2015 1:35 pm
I woke up one day and was old
(Although I prefer to say middle aged.)
I was young and fit
The last time I looked
(Or As far as I could possibly gauge.)
It’s a situation that makes me unhappy
(And quite frankly that’s putting it mildly)
There’s nothing I can do
To regain my youth
(Despite jumping up and down wildly)
I still drive a sporty convertible
Wednesday 1st April 2015 7:31 pm
I tell you there’s no ending, no straightening the straights,
and the twists and turns of life will remain unending.
Where do those paths go, via many trees bowed by breeze,
and thorny bushes with fresh and old blood specks to show.
Some are freeted by time, just lumbering and slumbering,
as stuttering takes them on to old, past their posturing prime.
Bored by ster...
Wednesday 25th February 2015 4:23 pm
My back is sending me a message
it says I'm getting old
That's why I don’t like the winter
My back doesn’t like the cold.
It’s not as if I’m in agony
And the pain is under control.
But my back could do with a massage;
Not reminders that I’m getting old.
I need to send back a message
I need to be rather bold
There’s no bloody need to remind me
-I know I’m ...
Tuesday 30th September 2014 5:49 pm
If you knew all the things that would happen in your life, you would not be able to live, so it is just a good job you don't know
Everything forgiven’s forgot
Peace made way to war again
Boundaries and manners were lost
Dignity was dug into a dirge
Pride slurped from a baby cup-
Oh let’s not talk in sombre wilting
Of how a mind was skewed and tilting
The only saving grace to be
That hindsight wasn’t paid to me
As- if I’d known how you would leave
I’d never give my heart to grieve
And I’d’ve s...
Wednesday 27th November 2013 9:46 pm
Pepped up with pills and various potions
Zimmer frame ready to help forward motion
Wired for sound and to aid dicky ticker
Capsules to slow it - or make it go quicker
Now where's my bifocals to help me to see
- and all this just so I can go for a wee.
Saturday 18th May 2013 11:36 pm
each night I sleep
entwined in the comfortable branches
of a mossy oak
by day I play
among the lissom saplings
how far I might still bend
Tuesday 16th April 2013 5:57 pm
Forget Me Not
“Be grateful for the light”,
my mum would say.
I remember that
as if it were only yesterday.
“Because, without it
the dark will never go away
and what’s hidden in it
will be inclined to stay”.
I had a son -
but I forget his name.
someone like him came
to visit me -
but he was not the same,
Monday 25th March 2013 4:41 pm
beggared on this taunted key
eyes, long emptied stark hollows of jaundice,
no longer reflect the encirclement of youthful steel
and, thus cowered beneath such plumb altiloquence,
she finds herself now wimpled in a creeping green
where her walls bleed a jealous neglect
fish flaked the façade of dandruff drips
her autumnal fall into sorry stupor where
Saturday 9th March 2013 11:46 am
A STEP TOWARDS WINTER.
I look into the mirror’s depthless space
and note the wrinkles that, somehow have grown
into something I wish I didn’t own.
The knife of age has cut into my face.
The greys within my hair have moved apace
from where the bird of youth had lightly flown
to make a nest of life that it could own.
I wish it hadn’t sprinted in that race.
Friday 1st March 2013 3:08 pm
served by the slice
this body, cut through in the redesign for a different life,
whistles a frayed remembrance leaving naught but remnants
when falling for the suicidal hiatus of a tethered tale
in these days, of the child’s exultation, sing your song
as a lyrical dog chases damsons and damsels and the first and
furriest flavour the dustiest corpse of trees; dark...
Thursday 28th February 2013 10:53 pm
Sunday 23rd December 2012 1:48 am
the blocks of childhood
solid, set square in red brick,
yet from the start porous, lined
by a cancerous quick
so soon perished
barely noticed we chalk one up
then tally them daily
our stars of awe and wonder
in diligent swathes
until the toehold twists
and the road falls away
when the choked black
fear stacked Sunday Psalms
Sunday 26th August 2012 11:00 am
hewn in antiquity of fire and ice
rough fell born in flash and fury hurled
from the high ground fountainhead
set in motion artlessly impelled
downwards tumbling by such attraction
that demands all obey its draw
but my life’s course stretches far beyond
your mortal grasp and moves at a pace
measured in millennia as you count days
I may rest b...
Thursday 23rd August 2012 10:57 pm
Tuesday 14th February 2012 7:01 pm
Who is this woman in
When did her hair start
to turn grey?
What happened to the
young girl who used to
laugh and play?
Who is this woman in
When did these
What happened to the
young girl whose parents
used to call "Dear"...
Monday 3rd October 2011 1:32 am
This one is more of a story I guess, a work in progress
Time was getting old,
Things had changed from those early days.
When it was just chaos and confusion
Excitement of not knowing what would happen from moment to moment.
That was a long time ago though
Now the years where starting to catch up on him,
Age was leading to forgetfulness
When you ...
Wednesday 20th April 2011 3:15 pm
All Butt All
Barely bothered as he lay down his weary head
Life was so much hassle, he just wished he could be dead
The medics kept his ticker beating as it should
But at what quality of living, he felt none understood
It's a dog's life he thought with such irony
If I had but been a dog, wouldn't they end this misery
Brighter days were now few and so far between
His memories s...
Thursday 6th August 2009 3:06 pm
Last stop before paradise.
An April rain has streaked the windows, smudging the view of suburban streets.
The chill breeze bends the spring’s first flowers and the TV’s showing old repeats.
In the lounge of The Willows nursing home the care assistants are serving teas.
After the adverts comes the snooker and ever...
Saturday 14th February 2009 1:34 pm