Oh won’t you come down with me Whitechapel ladies

Oh won’t you come down with me Whitechapel girls

Sing for Mary and Annie and Long Liz and Catherine

Mary Jane Kelly and all of their woes.

Oh when you go down to the streets of old London

The alleys, the rookeries, doss ’ouses too

Remember us ladies who did it for pennies

And never no never for the love of you.

For...

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Oh me baby went out with the bathwater

‘e went sailin’ darn the drain

Me baby went out with the bathwater

Ain’t it just a blimmin’ shame!

‘e was never a beautiful baby

With a face like a little pug

Me baby went out with the bathwater

Cos I forgot the plug!

I remember when I ‘ad ‘im

It came as a big surprise

When ‘e popped out with a scream and a shout

I c...

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go back go back

to the salty sea

go back to the salty sea

to the salty sea

gannet gannet on the beach

beak is dry as bone

eye is just a hole

feathers

feathers blowing in the wind

gannet

gannet on the beach

beak is dry as bone

and you

with your beak so sharp

and your eyes so blue

go back

go back

to the stormy sea

and you

y...

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you breathe out

I breathe in

I breathe out

you breathe in

I decide….

not to breathe

so we stand

lip to lip

heart to heart

hip to hip

open my

eyes to see

your eyes

widening

why should I

give my breath

I can stop

when I want

as you wait

for oxygen

I see thoughts

behind your eyes.

I hold my br...

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There is a city, hidden in the sand

where few have visited. I understand

it glitters in the scorching noonday sun.

To find it is the dream of anyone

who feels that they deserve great wealth,

who follow, creeping like a sphinx, in stealth

to enter through the golden portals great -

answer a riddle and confirm their fate.

The city’s treasures are truly renown...

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Back in her box on a bed of cotton wool

the January fairy closes her eyes with a tiny click.

Laid on wings of wire and net,

dusty tissue covering her faded dress.

Gauzy girl, she knows nothing of spring breezes,

has never seen a daffodil,

felt the warmth of a summer night.

The fall of leaves in autumn is a mystery -

she’s never seen the budding of the trees.

...

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I always thought that I could be a dowser.

Why did you never come

to sit at my table?

I hear of spirits met -

a soldier sitting at the bed end,

one shoe off.

I’ve never seen a ghost.

No soldier ever spoke to me.

If anyone could reach back through the dark

it would be you.

But you have never spoken.

Once, at midnight

c...

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There’s nothing so pretty

As shrimping net city

Where rock pools are tempting

And hermit crabs charm

In gingham and sandals

With sand between our toes

A spade and a bucket

Held in freckled arms.

The grannies are wiry -

Running down to the ripples

A chorus of children

To left and to right.

As the gulls wheel and deal

On their pasty patrol

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I went into the pub and sat

down on a wooden bench.

There was an old chap sitting there,

“Now listen to me, wench!”

“It seems to me” the old man said

“That life’s all upside down”

I asked him what he meant

and he continued with a frown

“Cos when you’re young and bright and new

you are so fawned upon!

Everyone admires you

and you can ...

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the season's over

everybody has gone home

the seasons over

leaving me here all alone

summer was fun

but now it's done

the season's over....

the shops stand empty

and the cafe's closed it's doors

the sandcastles have all been washed away

a pair of old flip flops are lying in the hall

waiting for another sunny day

the season's over

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We move in together

your eyes are beautiful.....

They told me you'd been lonely

though they said little else.....

My friends think you are a real catch...

But sometimes you look at me

as if you are expecting the world to start..............

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It seems too unlikely.

Little girl, pink frock, barefoot

wandering through a glade

following a peacock.

There’s no-one with her.

Just this sapphire creature

at her side.

Putting down our sandwich lunch

worried, we approach.

“Where is your mummy?”

The peacock disappears.

“Over there” she gestures

unconcerned.

Tells us he...

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There’s a roman statue in the garden

steps sweeping down to a dewy lawn

tables, napkin-laid for tea

and I am waiting for Maxim de Winter…

We would never have stayed in this place.

Haversacked and anoraked,

peering over the wooden palings

unkempt windswept back packers

noses pressed to the sweetshop window.

Now here I am again, wondering

...

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Well he’s off to Nova Scotia in the morning

Where the whales sing and ice burgs touch the sky

He’s tired of the fusty stale old workhouse

And he needs the salty sea to spark his eye.

He remembers when he was a child of nine years old

To Newfoundland he surely found his way

The ocean was his home

Wherever he did roam

And Penzance was a lonely pla...

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I don’t want a Labradoodle or a Borgie or a Corkie

Or a Boingle or a Bichpoo when I go out for walkies

I couldn’t stand a Borador or even a little Bogle

Or a Sprocker or a Springadoor or a cute and cuddly Rottski!

A Huskamite might bite me

And a Patterpoo would poo

Well I guess in the grand scheme of things

All god’s creatures do.

A Sheltidoodle or a Poogle...

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She has an Ingres back

She is a violin

And when she’s in his arms

She sweetly plays for him

She doesn’t know the words

He doesn’t know the tune

There’s a duet of sorts

In that sweet dark bedroom

His fingerwork is good

Her mouth is soft and warm

While she is in his arms

They will not come to harm

Her voice is like a lute

And y...

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Smile sits, content

a dove upon a nest

settles down

for morning snooze

in arms, not meant.

In arms not meant

smile stretches

like a cat

in warmth

and harmony

content.

Smile knows

no matter

that it is not meant

for pleasure grows

and echoes

in another smile

another smile

content.

With warmth of ...

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It was on Monday that I first saw the unicorn in my garden.

I noticed that he had to eat leaves from the trees.

If he bent his head to the grass his spiral horn would stick in the ground.

I started to feel sorry for the unicorn. He seemed lonely.

I realised I was in love with the unicorn.

He was so beautiful.

The unicorn and I talked for the first time.

He was ...

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Catch a piece of space junk

Put it in your pocket

Save it for a rainy day

Maybe you could hide it

In your airing cupboard

Or you could sell it on ebay.

I guess a good place for you to keep it

Would be underneath your bed

Maybe today though you should stay indoors

In case a piece comes falling on your head.

Remember it’s the property

Of the...

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Born in a bucket

Brought up by bitches

Fed on red mullet

Schooled by old witches

Housed in a pig stye

Ensconced in a rat run

Dressed in drab tawdrey

Shod in old cat gut

A mother called Rancid

A father called Squallor

Shat on and spat on

Biffed by a truncheon

Jailed in a drainhole

Pissed on by tossers

Left on a scrap heap

Torn at ...

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I’ve lived here now three years and more

Bugger

Don’t look as good as it did before

Bugger

The skirting board has all gone fuzzy

Bugger

The colour’s dulled, the corners muzzy

Bugger

I’ve filled the place with loads of stuff

Bugger

Heaven knows I’ve got enough

Bugger

They say that after several years

Bugger

The dust bunnies get bigger...

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                                  fingers

                               chill hard

                    grasping pulling scratching

                       scream soul ache loss

                     screaming aching losing

                             empty needy

                                   ghost

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Dusk seeps up through marshy ground

Gases bubble, a spooky sound

The owl swoops softly overhead

The bat flies from his foetid bed

But here is where I’d rather be

Not in the house where you haunt me.

The house looks warm and cosy though

Through the doorway I won’t go

Look through the window, you will see

A  kitchen homely as can be.

But I know ...

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Oh won’t you come down with me Whitechapel ladies

Oh won’t you come down with me Whitechapel girls

It’s for Mary and Annie and Long Liz and Catherine

Mary Jane Kelly and all of their woes.

Oh when you go down to the streets of old London

The alleys, the rookeries, doss houses too

Remember us ladies who did it for pennies

And never no never for the love of you.

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I want to buy you chocolate shoes

with cherry buttons at the heel

a petticoat of sugarspun

like candifrost

and sparklers

I want to buy you chocolate shoes

with parma violets at the heel

and as the chocolate melts into

the tender crevice slip my tongue

to find the delicacy there

the cleavage inbetween your toes

I want to buy you ch...

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I’m a rebel in the boneyard

I don’t give up

I scream and cry

and strut my stuff

I wear tight jeans

I don’t sleep nights

I’m a rebel in the boneyard

feelin alright

I’m a rebel in the boneyard

and that’s good news

don’t know if it’s drugs

don’t know if it’s booze

or bipolar disorder

that brings on the blues

I’m a rebel in the bon...

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Lundy was a distant man.

Aloof.

Towering.

A misty man.

Severe.

I thought

“Poor man

he’s been battered by the ocean

since time

began.”

Lundy kept his shroud in place

I could not see his face

his granite nose and chin.

He would not let me in.

Three light houses had he.

I thought

“Silly Lundy!”

Because the first...

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The woman who smelled of mouse

All blousey in her felt hat

Was in love with the man with the stubbly neck

Who lived with the flea bitten cat.

He admired her red-dyed hair

And her eye liner all skewiff

You could tell that he was enamoured of her

When he started boasting a quiff.

One day I saw him on the bus

Perusing the Argos mag

...

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There was a man I used to fancy

And a woman I admired

Saw them on the beach this morning

Struggling with their crippled child.

Almost too big for them to carry

Lolling heavy in his chair

They lifted high the clumsy carriage

As I tried hard not to stare.

He wore a wet suit and they wheeled him

Deep into the turquoise sea.

They laid him gently on a su...

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Today I have been holding the hand of the model maker.

With my brush I attempt to make good -

as they say.

He died soon after he finished

a wonderful re-incarnation

of our lost harbour.

He made it as light relief while working on

some effigy of violence.

That was his real job.

I like to think of him

losing himself in ...

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come live with me

in a chocolate house

with a chocolate cat

and a chocolate mouse

there’s a chocolate garden

and a chocolate path

we’ll drink hot chocolate in our chocolate bath

the roof will be made of Toblerone

the windows made from lollypops

we’ll have a Milky Bar telephone

and a chocolate trolley to take to the shops

we’ll have After Eigh...

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I tiptoe to your house in my ruby slippers

I have a date to dance in my ruby slippers

Twirling toes in holly halls take merry chances

Dervish dances in my pointy ruby slippers

Tie your bow tie, quick as it spins my darling

I’ll spin and spoon with you in my ruby slippers

I wade through frozen snow, they’re in my hand, held tight,

My own spark...

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Dig deep and delve

Go underground

beneath life’s leaflitter.

Explore stratigraphy.

Go below earth’s annual pulling curtain

where earwigs scamper

and woodlice curl and cower.

Go down down down

‘neath roots and worms and skulls and crowns

and roman glass and buried urns of bones,

patterned crockery and unexploded bombs.

Igneous, calca...

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you cannot die

you cannot grow old.

I would defy, yet there is grey

above your temples.

but you cannot die

for how could that be?

you were born of me

so

how can you ever die

if I say “no!”

and that is why

when the wave came and knocked you down

I smacked you hard

and made you cry

for I

was fiercer than any wave

could ever be.

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The lights don't work in carriage E.

The Train Manager, a caring sort of girl,

explains that really we should be evacuated

but the train is crowded

and, well, we are all grown ups aren't we?

So every time the train goes through a tunnel

she stands, torch in hand,

and shines it up onto the roof.

We all feel very special in coach E.

I lo...

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Your hand my hand

intoxication.

Shadow play

on walls alive.

Feather touch

imagination

as your eyes

look into mine.

Candlelight

passion migration

miles diminish

disappear.

Electric

communication.

desire transmission

you are here.

Separated, sliced in two.

Two rooms.

Two hands.

But...

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The man from rejerrah

has eyes specked with mica

a voice warm as amber

carves bibles from jasper

eats crumpets with marmite

wears corduroy trousers

and bobbly jumpers

reads Beowulf by gaslight

cooks stew on a rayburn

grows carrots and rhubarb

makes a good crumble

walks miles to the pub

plays euchre with locals

spots Perseid showers

h...

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The kestrel he hovers above

Like your heart, he’s a hunter for love

His wings are so strong

His tail is so long

He’s silent but good company.

The driftwood it lies on the beach

Echoing the highest tide’s reach.

I’m driftwood myself

On the Atlantic shelf

But I hope you’re the lover for me.

Your hair it is salt from the sea

Brine-stiff...

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the cave is dark and deep and wet

where all the mermaids hide

they keen and cry and pine to try

and catch a sailor lad

they swim in circles

at great speed

and he is sucked right down

a willing victim to their greed

oh what a way to drown

a mermaid wedding is the thing

a glorious sight to see

the sailor's final word is yes

as she...

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a yoghurt pot crushed in the muddy verge

black plastic rumpled by the field gate

a buzzard flaps, hunting, shaggy winged.

dull trees oppress.

and at the fields’ edges as I walk

I sense the shades of other quiet lives

there beneath the ashes and the oak

many dim figures soften into green.

interminable windings, little hills -

the road drones...

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God knows why we went

Wendy Pedley and me

To the Camping and Caravanning Exhibition

At Earl’s Court.

We must have thought that something else was on.

And there we saw it.

The iron lung.

Why? Why was it there?

Displayed as an exciting new invention.

Near scared two girls to death!

A long iron coffin

With a window where the eyes would be.

...

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It doesn’t matter if I cry

It doesn’t matter, no one sees

It doesn’t matter if I cry

For want of love

For want of thee.

It doesn’t matter if I speak

No one can turn my words away

It doesn’t matter if I speak

No one will hear

The words I say.

It doesn’t matter how I seem

What look is hiding in my eye

It doesn’t matter how I am

...

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Nodding heavy damp hydrangea heads hang low

Mauve and brown

And snapdragon flowers moulder in the flower beds.

Grasses seed at the lawns edge.

Summer is soon leaving.

In the town, bedraggled bunting hangs listless.

Carnival time, and posters flap.

Swallows gather on phone wires

Planning their departure.

Another summer gone.

A voice insid...

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If I could, I'd make for you a circle of protection.

A glade of bluebells where the warm bees drone.

A place of peace for you to sleep in.

A dwelling that you could call your home.

Where tears and fears and dreariness can never reach you

Where obstacles are none.

A place where all is calm and filled with beauty.

And it would be your circle of protection.

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Are you an incurable romantic?

Do you need an escort when you go out

To prevent you falling prey to love?

Have you had counselling

For your love addiction?

Do they tell you

There’s no hope

Then pat you on the head and go?

Do you suffer from a form of Tourettes

That makes you shout

I LOVE YOU at the top of your voice

Til people, shock...

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When I have a dog I'll call her Ithell.

A boisterous shaggy madam she shall be.

We'll walk in rain and wind and drizzle

no one will dare to stop us, she and me.

Our hearts will race as we climb up the mountain.

No one can catch us 'til we reach the top.

We love the wild the windy rugged weather.

There's no fear in us when we see the drop.

We'll ...

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Chewing on a filbert

Pondering and fingering

Lazing on her bedstraw

The lady thinks of love.

Of basting and of baking

Of dutious lovemaking

Of listening to tedious tales

The lady thinks of love.

A pomander of lavender

that she is loathe to squander

A noble book for reading

A cherished gift of love.

No more the hills to wan...

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The lime green nylon negligee held a fascination

as did the fluffy lemon yellow mules.

She flicked ash and her nail varnish

was a little chipped.

He was entranced.

She smelled of sex.

She led him up the stairs on slender legs.

The mules clack clacked and

her heels shone orange

in the light of a 30 watt bulb.

Her room was chilly

and the gas jets hisse...

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