You're only up the stairs,

moved recently from view,

you hear my happy shout,

and yes, I love you too.

Only in our bedroom

putting something right,

frowning in concentration

with sleeves rolled up tight.

Capable hands and forearms,

you're smiling at my call,

whistling through your teeth,

tapping on the wall.

Only in the next room...

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Every parcel is wrapped by Amazon

and my new best friend is now the postman.

My nephew's a pudding in the Nativity Play

and agnostic inlaws kneel and pray.

Festive drinks all stink of cinnamon

spiced sausages and biscuits pose as German.

Joan while drunk had sex with Gordon;

I leave by taxi at a quarter past ten.

...

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When I wake on winter mornings

and the central heating's failed,

I ignore the alarm's warning

until my bladder has prevailed.

Then I take my fur lined slippers

and I don my fleecy jumper,

run to where the air is crisper,

touch the cold seat with a whimper.

When the thermostat is working,

and the outlet pipes have thawed,

another problem must be lurk...

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I’ve admired your images on the internet,
seen your profile, followed your career.  With interest
a speculative e-mail I delivered fondly,
not too formal, not too long, crafted to be friendly.
You responded, a brief but kind request
For further information, and you sent your best
regards for my assistance, and then wished me well.
I can imagine you my virile French gazelle
Ex bi...

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I've spent five empty years

where every facial expression

is just a gap between tears.

I wanted the world to remain as it was

and point blank refuse to adjust to my loss.

No sunrises, no beaches, no roses in flower,

no fond recollection of recent fine hours,

just a few not posed for photographs

of what once was and now is past.

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We vow to shield but splatter
the soldiers in Afghan
with pretty propaganda
about what we need of man
to even out democracy
without arguments but arms
and use placebo platitudes.
a fooling no-one charm.

Signing up at sixteen
had always been his dream
he could have been
he would have been
a grown man in time.

At eighteen with his maker
and not his loving mother;
...

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Taking the dining room by surprise,

it didn't try to cover its blushes.

The pride it displayed in those pink flushes

was disturbing to this cold cynic's eyes.

it laughed at me, dismayed by the warmth

of living light here uninvited,

and as I left by the nearest door

its mocking chuckle never abated.

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Maybe I won't drink tonight,

won't hold my glass up to the light.

Perhaps the cork will stay intact,

the bottle resting in the rack.

A little tipple does no harm,

bears no grudges, tweaks no alarm.

Just a small swig to help me sleep;

save me from counting endless sheep.

Oh, it's still too soon to go to bed;

Well … only another sip of red.

No point now to ...

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Dopamine and seratonin

with seemingly whimsical shift

magnify my bile and moaning

til every nerve reverbs with conflict.

The faint hearted keep their distance

when my hormones rudely intrude,

turning sorrow into grievance,

spitting expletives sharp and crude.

I know it's merely PMT

which brings about this change in me,

but that doesn't help me fetter

...

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Today's my birthday, I turn and say

to the young man sitting to my side.

He looks at me in some surprise;

words unspoken, speak:

Seriously, at your age you continue to trace

the number of years you've stayed alive?

And I question myself, what it means

to celebrate a day that's just a date

which measures only the distance

from birth to now.

When the future...

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If you can wake up every morning groaning

And still raise your head above the pillow,

If you can hit the alarm without moaning,

And stoically accept an all time low,

If you can reach clean clothes each week day morning,

And feel your way to a cup of hot tea,

While finding handbag, phone and key ring,

but not give in to anxiety.

If you can take on a pounding...

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Every pity a pithy platitude

pecking at ears too tired to hear.

I'm so sorry for your loss they exude,

isn't it too soon to return my dear?

I think you're marvellous to cope so well

pounds at her protesting brain.  No outlet

to explain they enshroud an empty shell

in a net of lies and angry regret,

tethered down by wellwishers assumptions,

the widest wires no...

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The once lardy lad from the Isle of Man

aggressive in the press because he can -

the evidence suggests pocket a win

in as many sprint finishes as nine.

The coveted pink jersey becomes him;

no better assertion of macho man

then to wear that prized colour with aplomb.

From the parliamentary democracy

Of Luxembourg, Andy Schrek I forsee

As contender for fi...

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Listen up climber boy, my feeling is this,

This girl ain’t waiting up on no kiss;

She’s hooking those bolts with one thing in mind

And it ain’t the chalk bag on your behind.

Come on climber boy let me see that swing

Cos climbing up walls ain’t my only thing

Smear it up.

Heel hook.

Body Thrust.

Push it up climber man, your arse is mine,

Hit the...

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How do you now touch me,

either heart or body?

With an ethereal tendril

sent by thoughts so gentle,

but no longer bound by

a soul in earth or sky?

How then can you hear my

anguished or imploring cry?

With no ears to hear me,

it resonates clearly

that no distant reply

implies a curt goodbye.

If you could see me now,

you know I keep ...

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If I pretend for just one day
That time did not take you away
When morning comes I see  you there
I kiss your neck, I stroke your hair

We lie in peaceful harmony
The weekend's here and you're with me
With natural rhythm and easy pace
We turn and now we're face to face

Sunday brings no urgency
I fetch you coffee and make my tea
A routine made of many years
A blissful ...

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Bad feeling in the peleton,

bad mouthing in the press

Fingers pointing, tongues are stabbing;

it’s a bit of a mess.

We hear hints which verge on slander,

Vicious words chosen to suggest

without the appearance of honest candour,

wrong-doing two abreast.

Careers are dangling in the gutter,

back pedalling excuses uttered,

Did the come back cancer hero

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Ah, what an excuse for a spot of doggerel!

Pandora was a punishment to man,

a tradition I feel no compunction

in continuing.  A terrible thing,

a box of mockeries and silent sneers,

of saying it’s fine; really it’s nothing,

irascible mood swings, and unexplained tears.

A saleswoman of godlike dimensions

presented man with the loss leader hope,

a glossy ...

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A quick edit to explain it's just a piece of fun but based on Keat's Belle Dame sans Merci ... if you know that one it makes more sense.

Oh what’s your problem, drunken slob
seen staggering and loitering?
The clock has ticked beyond the top,
And no birds sing.

Oh what’s your issue you sorry man!
You’re swaying and so woe-begone.
The Hacienda’s doors are closed,
And the...

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The snapon screwdriver is gone.

Never entrusted to my care,

but bequeathed by misadventure.

Green plastic handle, ratchet drive,

both Philips and fat bits inside.

A privilege I never earned

to take this shaft and make it turn.

Left to find it my own device,

I used it with such avarice,

rounded the bits and crossed the thread,

levered open the paint pots' ...

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I'm aching to feel the heel of my hand

held hard up against the bend in your spine,

pushing your pivotal skeletal strand

til your groin meets the vibrant heat of mine.

My insistent hips claim ownership,

 my firm palm presses your sensitive nape

coaxes an involuntary gasp from your lips,

moulding your chest to my breasts gentle shape

Each finger engulfed in that s...

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I feel serene, I feel sure,

I feel I couldn't ask for more

and from this most exalted place

I can see a crisp landscape

where everything seems good and pure

and nowhere now is in the shade

but a glorious light drenches every glade

and each blade of grass stands proud and true.

I look down as the naked earth's revealed

and a celebration song pours from the sky

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It's my anniversary
on the 17th of May.
It feels so strange when I say
mine not our memorable day

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A fire once done doesn't unburn,

nothing can return at all.

I couldn't extinguish the inferno

and if wishing were water

it still wouldn't matter,

it couldn't exchange my now for another.

Even returning to the vulnerable spark

which introduced light to the dark,

I can't affect the progression rate,

the incineration is just too great.

Could I alter the fuel...

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I wanna be a rap musician
I wanna astonish, wanna turn it on,
Wanna prove my glory days ain’t completely gone.
Gonna strutt my stuff in front of Surly Mike,
Take centre stage and take a heelclicking hike.
Say Yo Mother, check out this aging chick
Your daughter’s hot and trippin’ and this ain’t no hippy trick.
Stab my fist in the air like it’s an underscore
Take my time to say th...

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By your breathless side I left my hope;

as the thick curtain closed and engulfed us,

our future frayed like a worn hemp rope.

In dark deathlessness I’m alone to grope

for a frail ribbon, my own dreams surplus

as by your breathless side I leave my hope.

Black is precise, but my clothing is taupe;

life’s fabric faded to washed out hues,

my future frayin...

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I love you more than I ever loved a woman

despite the distraction of your huge scary bosom.

You tolerate me at my most obtuse,

with my close to the skin miscomprehension of race.

Our friendship’s built on misunderstanding

where we compete for paucity of upbringing,

but I envy you and everything you are,

and when we link arms we travel so far.

Brown fa...

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That is the shed where he kept his compressor;

here is my dining room with dark antique dresser.

This is the yard where we planted the birch tree

and there is the bench where we sat, you and me.

Where is the man who replastered the wall?

Who is the old woman who returns when you call?

Why does the house seem so quiet and lifeless,

and how can a thing made of br...

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