I saw the cat today in the lane

its back towards me

but aware that I was there.

A hedge absorbed it

the lane alone again

and another feline plan unthwarted.

The puddles saw the plan pass on by

pass away

and the dance again of soft pads

foraging whiskers

leaving me behind

blundering on my upright way.

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looking down

then looking up

      at stained glass skies

      penitence  humility  breaching the distance

sodomy airbrushed out

the fucking forgiven

       neutered dreams on a cushion of bliss

      because of all this

and underneath the spirit screams with mere respect.

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Christmas has gone like a flatulent fart

      silent night is just a mattress

the hosannas that rang no longer ring true

      three ships sailed over the bright horizon

while the sales are flexing and long overdue.

Family groups have dispersed once again

      the elders tucked safely away

an alcoholic haze drifts by

      on the back of the special day.

Poin...

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Alan no longer exists,

has disappeared

gone up the reverse spiral

off the ladder of no more rungs

his respects paid

seeded in pockets of low resistance.

       In case you didn't know him too well

       there is the skip outside his house

       sodden with the forced tears

       of a sort of purgatory

       awaiting pulp and peace

but help yourself be...

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NO MORE

DEEP COAL

FROM A DEEP HOLE

NO DEED POLL

DECISIONS TAKEN

AT A HIGHER LEVEL

CHEFS OF ENTERPRISE

CUTTING BACK

NO SURPRISE

KNEW IT WAS COMING

WORKERS THUMBING

A LIFT TO OBLIVION

BLACK GOLD

DISPLAYED IN A CASE

SO THAT AT COAL'S DISGRACE

THE YOUNG CAN STARE

DEEP DESPAIR

WILL ANYONE CARE?

BURY THE WELSH IN MEMORIES

THE YORKSHIREMEN TOO

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At the end of another day

the Antarctic fields tell no story

the researchers move slowly

conserving heat in the blistering cold

with their late flaring mirages of haloed breath

as the air peels away.

      The ice maiden has wandered

      far from her glassy hide

      leaving an impression behind

      where a freezing moon scythe

      divides the ti...

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I stare out at the gathering mist

as on the radio tubular bells are peeling,

an insistent beat of persistent encouragement.

children's voices stripped of guile

Christmas will soon be here .

      A red carpet unfolds

      while the lurching crowds obey

      a ritual newer than recorded time.

Pin spots reveal the message

in the caves of temptation.

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What's done for free

risks anonymity

we live in hope

     of money for old rope

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In the mirror he checks his wig

the sideburns dark glasses

with the silver sides

checks the white suit

it's all in place

his heart lies heavy in Grace

land.

Though Elvis lies in a mausoleum

this English equivalent

works hard to survive -

 daily he works with carpets and flooring and

refreshes his throat with gargling fluid

to keep those dreams of the King a...

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dirty and dark

hard to breathe

confused about time

feeling my way

suddenly a light        the mother lode      revealed at last      crystals of truth      I clawed them

My own discovery

the truth blinding

age behind me

the light stayed on.

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Here comes religion - again

with its huge pillow for your bed

creature comforts.

To go with it you may include

      television, sofa, slippers, car

      etcetera  etcetera. 

      For the ladies a kitchen that's blessed

      in the latest hue

 creature comforts

and a hint of sky to cover you by.

For the race

      a human embrace when it's over

      (gl...

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"This was the family dining room,"

      the lady stands in simple tweeds

      her feet astride the dark oak floor

reflecting history with all its deeds

sombre still with shadowed time

      the tumbling drapes discreetly back

      and panelling fading into black.

An open doorway suddenly reveals

an ancient visitor visibly thrilled

      whose wife peruses the outline ...

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I wrote this poem

whilst having a crap.

I sprayed the air

the task complete.

Not sure which was the greater pleasure

probably in equal measure

I look forward to a wise assessment

of my small but insignificant investment.

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I parked the volvo at two am

cut the engine on the old 760

the November night closed in.

Outside, the air at Borley was fresh

a light wind stirred by the blunted church

only hedges and drives, bungalows

where the rectory had been

and the still extant lodge. 

The Victorian pile razed by fire  before the war

i'd read the stories

of a ghostly nun, mysterious li...

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Father Christmas flies high,  so high

where the air is thin

and the children believe

as they have been told.

Father Christmas drops his men down

presents on tiny wings so fragile.

to keep them safe

      they can't believe in bombs

      and bullets as they tear down

      simple dreams.

though good men may come

with promises wrapped up

Fathe...

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he held on to his views as tightly

      as a bullet in a breach

hammered them home

      in the compression of a moment

his opinions unleashed

      with deadly aim and

nought but a duel

      could suppress them.

I met with him on the bleak moor

      and with luck and aim

blew out his brains

      scattering his thoughts and views

and the world was a bet...

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I felt it could happen at any time

that I would know when

then on the cliff looking out to sea I knew it

the drop enough

enough of a drop

to deal the blow

on the undertow

and though

      the waves were flecked and bright

     the time had come

     for everlasting night.

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In the final scene a man waits

in the reception area of a hotel,

a spectator in a moving montage

seated alone,

in a cosy juxtaposition of service and flow.

No one notices him and his watching:

      the discreet frontage of the lifts

      and their smoothly quiet ascents and descents

      to reveal the occupants

      stepping from their padded confines

      some b...

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What would we do if the poems ran out

our energy supplies cut off?

How would we explain that away

without the words and what they convey?

Like the blind we'd have to evolve

with only the touchrod of insight to solve

those infinite days and their challenging ways

to stumble over imponderable matters

and stare at statues

or bleakly at sunsets

devoid ...

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In red jackets they had assembled

instruments to hand, smiling.

My eye took them in

close enough to touch,

the living

and some I knew had passed over

Long hours we had spent together

glued into years

in pursuit of music,

I made them what I remembered,

reached round the back of memory

propped them up again smiling

and the dream was good.

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November struggles to help itself up

but ignored by the cataract sky

with its rotting damask

drowns slowly like a rat

downtrodden

sodden

while the days cry out for sleep

cast their leaden verdict

bedding down on pillows

of hedge    bank    ruts

ifs and buts.

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for simple pleasures of conquest

we played marbles, for marbles

with marbles  again and again

and bagged them

safe and drawstring tight

a natural balance of loss and gain.

Like glass eyes they spun in our palm sockets

leapt and sparkled

in gutters or playgrounds

from three finger cradles

whirling swirling in small tracks

clickety clacks

macho skirmishes

the m...

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Small assassinations are drilling

making their points felt

deep into the bedrock

      as mountains of trust give way

      sink beneath other leviathans

hopes dashed

fevers tempered by death

while the black hooded wait their turn.

Small assassinations take their toll

take comfort from power

feed on and off it from back rooms

      an enemy must be found

  ...

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when margaret met ronald

a dream came true

a meeting of minds

an acting coups.

a child was born

to feed on dreams

a credit rush for me and you.

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In Shepherd's Bush W.12

we tenderly kissed

I with suspension of disbelief

him with deep and tragic relief.

      He said that straights were highly prized

my gorge was rising

but nothing else.

I felt no fear nor any desire

like an actor whose skill is ever for hire.

With his wig back on he looked much better

bra in place,  rouged up face

transvestite...

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Lord Nelson and me

on a summer's ride

in the crook of his arm

through the countryside

I stood while he huffed

and stood while he puffed

in his green shiny coat

he shovelled the miles

and hot he ran with his iron will

and we rode like the Lord

and we're riding still.

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The clothes hang in their wardrobe

asleep in drawers

shoes sit to attention

all ready for the needs of a day

      seasonal assortments.

      Their owners pass away

next of kin left with what's next to skin

they're leaving home.

Wardrobe empties

drawers a blank

      shoes with their black holes of respect

and for what the next world forsakes

the ...

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Check your fluid levels

as they flow into your brain,

      emotion's filter needs a clean

      to make it very plain.

Words like SHIT and PISS and FUCK

describing the body's functions

      turn up like uninvited guests

      with their slippery injunctions.

So service with a smile please

reach down to flush them out

      use vitriol to clear the air

      in ca...

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he smoked roll - ups

drank copious amounts

watched girls of a certain age

      his mind afire with hopeless dreams

      he played tricks with words on a page

      had a healthy disrespect

for sanctimonious smiles

cursed his way through every day

lived life upon the tiles.

      When he finally passed away

      he left a wretched smell and

      a song of sadnes...

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rockabye lullaby

Southern Electric

in the dark

the sanctioning spark

Waterloo sunset

left behind

briefly forgotten

the daily grind

no man's land

of fretul speed

lives suspended

 commercial creed

rockabye lullaby

unholy ghost

dead man's handle

 the milepost.

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I could have been in a trench

looking up at tanks passing

their underbellies squatting

so it was the day the clouds came

tumbling fusing in great clumps of air

boisterous blustering

towards a thin horizon

      with a hatred of the light.

I pleaded with them,     finally

they promised not to come back

      that night.

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Just like Lord Byron I sit tonight

pen in hand by candlelight

I walked abroad, the wind was high

galloping trees disturbed my eye.

Beetling roofs betrayed the light

that flickered in windows in dwindling sight

when of a sudden the power went down

a breath of God blown all around.

Within the blackness a chasm yawned

beneath my darkened feet it formed

 my...

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Forget about Gods

in their various forms of madness

or alternatively the single God

in his uniqueness.

Instead

respect the big cats

pumas tigers lions and their kind.

      look into those eyes

      place your respect and fear

      pay your dues

know that true life lurks there

in blood

instinct

raw sex

kindredship

love of a kind

      and finally a...

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Take Big Ben     as it stands

rebuild it in the desert sands

see if time makes any sense

with its monstrous grandeur

under ancient stars

by the way, what's the time on Mars?

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the great heave of recent war

lay back swallowed by the cold channel floor

beach out of bounds

with its lullabies of mines and barbed wire

marram grass saluted a past

like a bereavement

as we climbed from the train at Harwich

en route by Bedford coach to a week of levity

the boiler of the locomotive hissed in the rain

platform alight with puddles

e...

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Full set of golf clubs for sale I saw

with trolley thrown in

on a garage door.

Apply within it said( well really )

can't give 'em away  though sometimes nearly!

They crop up in the charity shops

as regular as when clockwork stops

Nobody wants yesterday's flash

on wheels

you need the new version

not a used and sullied perversion

like golf shoes with rather...

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Golf - the mystery of holes in the ground

smoothed to within an inch of its life

soft dreams

tiny ball hard hit

      that's about it

oh! I nearly forgot

the nineteenth hole

      scene of many a deal

done with sweaty hands

and in oak - lined rooms

where men can be men

 old sorties are relived

oh! and I nearly forgot

the fees,  a fine

for not sta...

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We arrived early by coach

instruments were ferreted into shabby backstage rooms

yesterday's polystyrene cups unwashed

lay near their current newspaper

gutted somewhere near page three

another ballroom another town

      Brighouse

      the jewel in the crown

abdicating from the future

locked in a blistered past.

      our presence with music was part of ...

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Woke up this morning      another day dawning

but I know deep down      there's trouble in town

moving real slow               my turn to go

I shuffle those dice            take your advice

I know you monopoly men       know when to say when

i'm in jail next                     totally vexed

can't pass go                     too damn slow

my notes are bleeding       kids need ...

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The man who shines your shoes

brushes your coat polishes your ego

      he knows his place

      in the human race.

As you go to your urgent meetings

      remember those hearts of darkness

     in the shadowlands

there may be an answer there

not on your agenda no doubt

      waiting with sad patience

      to be drawn out.

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In a funny sort of way I came to like him

      and then

in that funny sort of way

      I came to like others too who

I didn't much like before

      as if my liking was a fondness

for initial dislike itself

      an attachment to overcome

and once won a constant challenge

      equalled

then I seemed to rise up

      not caring so much whether

people suit...

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look at me in my shiny car!

      ever so near

      ever so far

nothing can stop this love affair

my hands are gripping

my feet are flexing

      the dashboard grinning

      my thoughts have fled

I am easily pleasantly

easily led.

When I'm not in my shiny car

      it waits, it awaits

      hushed and cold

for my powerful body

to bring it to li...

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The celebrations were just

      a thin skin over a wound

deep in the pysche

      death

crisply crackled on sullied ground

      desolation a breath away

shoulders hunched against

      the monolithic memory

buildings shored up.

      Dogs beseeching

cats disappearing around corners

      devoid of direction

Shops cobbled together trade

      holding up a ra...

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so Vinny comes into the club one time

I say what's new

he says it's good

a deal going down

on the other side of town

you really ought to

hear this.

I says you gotta tell me more

Vinny's calling the guy at the bar

comes over with scotches and rye

a celebration to match the mood

he draws a plan

on a serviette

a liquor store supplying

we don't know how m...

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Let's fuck up the planet

while we've still got time.

   We'll charge to stare in the abyss

    people would pay their dime.

So let's fuck up the planet

how long is anybody's guess,

    so let's big up the problem

    and never quite confess.

Poverty can go to the back of the queue

along with love and such things

    so let's fuck up the planet

    there might ...

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One forty five Acacia Drive

      had a gate with a rising sun

            with a spring in its hinge for everyone

 Metroland expressive.

Returning to its original slot

      with little delay as like as not

            protecting its inward Camelot

Metroland impressive.

One forty five Acacia Drive

      was bombed in nineteen forty five

          ...

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The minute the fog laid its eyes on me

I knew I was lost

with its cold creeping seduction

and whispered breath

            all guidance confused

and only the suspended tops

            of what was grounded

could I see

confounded in a season of mystery.

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I love my brother

I love my sister

I love my mummy

I love my daddy

I love my dog

and I love my cat.

I love my granny and granddad

but they've gone on ahead

that's what mummy and daddy reckon

so I have to love them even more

'cause granny and granddad are dead.

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On the northern line last night

    I chanced upon the strangest sight

as I took my usual seat

    in the clammy noisy heat.

A man sat opposite a little along

    just staring at an absent throng

for the carriage was empty apart from myself

    and he was perfectly still.

His coat was heavy and dark as night

    with his feet together as if held tight,

and as we ...

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what happened to my dreams of flying?

there's no denying they were real enough.

In that sleeping realm

I passed the elm

and valley bound on wingless flight

my silence buoyed me up

to look down on the buttercup,

and as I willed it

landed with a maiden sigh

as levitating

the world passed by.

Of late my dreams go plodding on

no more magic to thrill my soul -

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Take a spot of wisdom

add it to your view,

widen out your vision

good luck will come to you.

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With their glassy eyes

and swirling tattoes

these are the awkwardly aggressive youths

dancing attendance to a swirling cause

as yet unexplored

a menopause

of puberty

of discontent

in a forest of time misspent.

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he shadowed her with his wafer frame

like a tug with the Queen of the Seas

she ingloriously passing by

the waters discreetly parting.

Coasting in and docking together

in the supermarket setting

she with an air of bluster

a lack of grace

him aiding and abetting

supermarketing.

With his chest cadaverous

from the struggling of smoke

the sporty stripe a st...

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It's hard to find love when you're all alone

when the last train has left.

Like the walking dead

you wait for love

with no end in sight.

It's hard to be loved when you're lonely too

'cause everyone knows you missed that train

though it wasn't your fault

and the time's never right

when that last train has left

and the night lies ahead

when you're waiting f...

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where I live      lanes converge

and gravel bottomed

like dried up streams are unadopted

with their tiny plots laid at random

backs to sides cobbled up

slates with tiles, scowling porches.

all a - sloping with their underground springs

slipshod and tacky

homely and sought after

now that envious eyes are cast

and the boards go up, staked through

the heart of where I...

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O Cafe Rouge you were quite a beaux

with your heat and chat, your meet and greet

you might have guessed with your mock french faux

your raison d'etre had to go.

      Gone the poisson in various guises

      the poulet oft immersed,

      those garish posters of the Moulin Rouge,

      the waiters' comments well rehearsed.

and what of the coffee?  never french

...

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I picked up a cold of late

but never displayed it.

Picked up an ocarina

and never played it.

Picked up a few ideas,

they never quite made it.

Picked up a woman once,

but that's another story.

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Old Seth had been an engineman

worked on the Chesapeake

from Richmond to Ohio

and back two times a week

then lately in a twilight home

in Wannesboro it seems

just keeping to himself most times

and living on his dreams.

The doctors reckoned he'd lost his mind

just sat there looking out;

some days his eyes would screw right up

other times he'd shout

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As I stood there on that lazy summer day

the world tilted with the sun

hawthorn privet

plantain, wild orchids

all a palette of play

on the raggedy downs.

I clambered down the bank

into the pit of chalk where gobbets lay

strewn,

puddled after recent rain.

Looking up I could see the perimeter fringed

the plunge down where the sculpture of effort

had scal...

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A miner walked from Wheal Kitty

to Trevellas at the end of a day,

and the path he took was atop the cliff

for that was his easiest way.

The moon rode high oe'r the breakers

and the path did twist and turn,

and the Gods of the deep were lurking there

with nothing new to learn.

Fourteen hours at fifty fathoms

had taken the breath from him

and the night was qui...

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trees don't ask to be born

something just happens

it seems like a good idea

and a shame humankind

didn't think of it first.

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snotful, brimming with adventure

ragamuffin

got down in the ditch

burrowed, knees scratched

contemptible

ignoring social resonsibilities

      dining correctly

      shaking hands

      being precise

instead

grovelling under a footpath

where rain had been like a friend

real, natural

breath dank with small echoes.

Looked back i...

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I faced the judges

the line of their strength

read my poem

as best I could

my finest up 'til now I thought

the duration being of acceptable length.

      Silence ensued

      a row of stares.

I rose to leave

the room at once

my dreams and my art

in hopeless tatters.

"Shall I close the door?" I said

"Yes if you will," said one of the -----

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I respect your cage of disbelief -

look over here - one that believes

in a different cage.

variations on a theme

frameworks.

It seems we must have these restrictions

for without them we would have little to call our own,

no institutions

no constitutions

no sense of freedom.

Once you accept these bars

you barely notice them

variations on ...

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I fell through my sofa last night,

found a dark place

where the dead collect

with old coins, crumbs

reminders,  nail clippings,

the memories of lost souls.

It was a place of horror

and I fought back

to enter my sofa once more.

You might say it was imagined

just a dream

but who knows?

who cares?

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They came in their big black cars silently

on a wave of expectation

stationed themselves

like a game of chess

result anticipated

      released their Messiah

      proclaiming COMPASSION

       promising NEW LEGISLATION

       prognosis by CROWD HYPNOSIS

waving goodbye to poverty

lauding free speech

using it against the truth

with self congratulation b...

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They laugh in all the wrong places

turn life into a joke

often the joke is on you

but the laugh is paramount

the humour is gone

but the malady lingers on..

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be mine fair lady

I will drag you down

down to dreamless sleep

be mine fair lady

your sweat shall be my sweat

your wet       my wet

be mine fair lady

as you twist and turn

cry out as I surround your soul.

From where do I come?

it matters not,

the curtains have parted

so

lie still fair lady

pray for your mind if you must

but leave you...

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The compact disc glinted in the sunlight

pinned upon the workshop door

I promised to scatter the silence

from its cage for evermore.

No final wish was granted

as it showed its circular face

so I hefted the 22 rifle

in a close embrace

levelled a calm dispassionate eye

as the breech caressed my cheek

felt the kick of pelleted flight

the release of held...

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Llechwydd you Welsh maiden

your nickname      slag

with your dark secrets

with your cloak of black

tall in the valley saddle

silver corsage to the sun

living with pressure known only

to the deeper Gods.

           The celts took your virginity

            burrowed in as you turned for solace to the sky

            shook your mane of rain

            runni...

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The world is giving up its tiny dead -

hair  carapaces   dust   come out of hiding

with the white flag of air,

drift slowly     surrender.

Lamentations to soften the scratch of feet.

In a bleak sun a broom signs the treaty

dust is on the march.

The arc begins,    mass grave swept

through forests of bristle

the sweeper content in the cheating of gravity.

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Mississipi mud pie

thou art bigger than my eye.

I worship you for selfish reasons

thou my sugars may go sky high.

Mississipi mud pie

on my stomach you will lie

like Jonah in my inner swamp

dissolving with the merest sigh.

Mississipi mud pie

i'll love and eat you 'til I die

but until then as my spoon goes in

i'll simply say goodbye.

...

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she waits for her lover on the millpond bridge

in the autumn sun on Michaelmas day

the waterwheel forever turning

caressing the river in its turbulent play.

      In a Tavistock tavern her lover lies

      in the arms of a drunken brazen whore.

      The golden sun engulfs the room

      their clothes lie strewn on the riven floor.

Lust explodes as his seed is spe...

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One man's in, another drinking

sharing a recent story

thousandth hand across the land

such is the speed of news we share

 another molecule of bonding

the drinking opening up the scene

into the time they have to spare

give us this day our daily bread

before the rising yeast goes slack

another way to move the human spirit on.

Just out of si...

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I should have rung him

shared his decline

knowing he was dying

but I had problems too

don't we all?

we went back years

he liked a smoke, a drink

so natural at the bar

but we lost touch and he moved on

don't we all?

            I should have rung him

but it's too late I guess

now that he's passed away

but nobody's perfect after all.

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on the open plain

I looked in the rear view mirror

at the spread of late summer disappearing

checked my speed

no hurry.

ahead an unknown season

with promises dawning

horizons sensed

too real for a dream

        she would be waiting

        off the greyhound

at Galveston

with sculpted hips

small hands

a feast of inward delights

my speed increased

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the listless ones gaze through

the downward surge of memory

in a postponement of death made decent

by caring.

hands are pressed like autumn leaves

into the never never book that

will be offered up with a soft cry

why all this, why?

in a bedroom a once favourite picture hangs

sheets are turned down

and while there is life

still life

lights will dim

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Gregory Maitland came to Moorgate

when the gate was there.

He carved his name with a miniature pick

in a hospital for the sick

for syphillus had laid him low

took his mind beyond repair

He'd gone with a doxy lustily dressed

as many did with their spirits depressed

and paid the price for paradise

and the sick they went on dying.

The crowds were...

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ask a dog the meaning of life

as it looks into your eyes.

It's crying time for the thirsty soul

and he doesn't realize

but he sees that earnest look you give

and he reaches for the skies

to find an answer to give you hope

in the realm of the worldly wise.

And when the thought has run its course

he knows you're in the clear,

for all that clamours in the restl...

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The life of caves is caught in the traps

static, blind

save when raindrops combine in driven whispers

to flush out secrets

on the way to sweet Elysium.

The toothless mouths and scoured gullets

slip into themselves

reflective, deceptive

indifferent to curious life in the traps.

They are their own refuge

hemmed in with cold shoulders, their

armadillo roofs ...

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fIrst the trees rise up, then are lopped

into logs, a family

taken at birth to serve a purpose

to rise again in smoke

giving solace to us who huddle

against the almighty sky as it draws

the hot breath, rubbing its hands

when we are finished with it

and the children dance into the night

wrapped in flame like a will collapsing

            a coloration of the h...

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The barometer tumbles

the rise of an ocean

an exodus of air

the barrage of thick lipped breath

implies vespers

            over the shrinking day.

            A drover spots the booming wind

sheep ripple as the moan takes hold.

Stones press hard into the advance

the shuddering horizon hears the call,

shrugs its pewter shoulders in a heave

and rain begins to fa...

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contemplating horizons of infirmity

I see

that walk - in baths

stair lifts

and the cornucopia of aids that do spring

from the possibility of lesser mobility

are pleasantly presented

and am surprised that such ladies as do disport

themselves in the role of advertising them

are of the decidedly firm kind

not representative in general terms

of the age groups who ...

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The peace police are coming to town

their smiles are soft like fleecy down.

They've swapped their kevlar for polyweave

and their hearts are worn upon their sleeve.

They drift in pairs, go hand in hand

in solidarity's promised land.

Stop and search they offer you,

if you're alright they will be too.

They may protest at society's ills

to form a line wit...

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the mermaid bobs with the rising tide

her hair gaining weight with tempted water

flotsam in a silver sun

her movements fluid in retrospect

scales      of injustice    riffled undone.

the ambulance throbs with pulsating light

a beacon on the scattered beach

and a stretcher is gently lowered,

the mermaids' dream just out of reach..

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in my view from solitary hill

I watch people waving,

the solitary thrill of invisible ecstasy

stays with me still

in a silence of waterfalls

an absence of will.

No restriction on solitary mound

an absence of streets

that eat up the ground, with a silence of storms

and the howl of dissent

of the sullen sodden human round.

In my dreams of solitary souls

...

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hunting for sport is a noble art

much adopted by the nobility of whose lives

it has always been a significant part

perfected for their pleasure

suited to their leisure.

Out of the corner of their eye

inescapably lesser humans were also fair game

hunted for what little they possessed

while those of the nobler breed

had enough already

toasting excellent sport ...

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"No compliments allowed."

buy your badges now

all insults removed

someway somehow.

but don't stop there

let's tackle the ads,

just sticking to products

showing mums and dads.

Passport shots available here

(the threat of pornography always near).

The scary fellas are the quiet ones

who never say boo to a goose(sorry)

just in case, we'll destroy all the seven...

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I am in the shower

hosing down the treasured carcase.

The water dances, gives itself

in a minor moment.

Pillars and steps, entrances to this older generation

are once more given respect, yet why?

for soon in full view of the

rolling conundrum of time and space

this carcase will die back

but while it holds a name

an intention

a history

the feeling is ac...

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On that day I found a tree to sit beneath,

the grass in sloping folds of summer

would not leave me

'til I made a choice.

Closing my eyes and opening my mind

was like a photograph of destiny

as yet designed.

      For old times' sake looking back

      at how time had ploughed that chosen track

      with its ruts well trodden

      I have passed by a lake of simi...

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The two tone tram came to a stop

at Sheffield Lane Top

in a bright smoky haze

on one of those extraordinary days

that we take for granted

when nothing much is expected to happen

except for moments of history.

Jack Braithwaite leaves his tram's controller

to reverse the rows of slatted seats

and sees a passenger against the glass

head crooked forward where the fra...

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The ample rump of Donald Trump

is an interesting area.

Like margarine it spreads quite well

and exhudes a slightly oily smell.

The centrepiece describes the man

and worthy of a mention,

for with its daily repertoire

it's just his brain's extension.

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in the canal they found her

iphone 5 in the undergrowth

      drowned in the night

      found in the morning

Her parents abroad flying home in the sun

both distraught, the truth just dawning.

      Investigations under way

      her phone was checked for content

      suicide by text found

      with a little dinky pinging sound.

An online profile...

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our bodies talk in chemical clauses silently

constructing

 a life for us,  constellations

unseen even through closed eyes

though we sense the windmills and

the air at the heart.

Aliens within lose face or take charge

commandeer

our inner sanctums under who knows what control?

Then  the invaders muster their forces

for our corruption

wherefore

the hospital l...

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Two doors down from me lived Alan

old school type, mason, drove a Jaguar

very proud he was, well turned out

visited his wife in hospital

incarcerated

uncomprehending.

I was asked in for a drink and a chat

      a really good sport, very sharp

liked a smoke and a scotch

     he poured two out in crystal glasses

from the lighted corner shrine.

      We shared so...

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"there's good news and bad news

which do you want first?" 

                 "I'll have the bad news."

                Thus        Murdoch became rich on human weakness

sad but true that this philosophy is cheap to run

like an old friend clapped out expecting little.

GOOD NEWS COMES AT A PREMIUM!

(well it wouldn't be cheap 'cause it's special)

with bad news you can...

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one by one they came in their thousands

fresh from the deepest sleep of all

newly minted

with a dream of memory spawned in hellfire

precipices of water,  the drift of continents

then as the sun turned a blinded eye to nature

on the scythe of molten time

a kind of peace                           forests came

a forever fusion of death before life

building blocks

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