THE TINIEST ALCOHOLIC

 

I once knew a tiny alcoholic

He drank miniatures, was never melancholic

He'd crawl into a bottle 

And opine like Aristotle

Though his logic was to get to catatonic.

SO I'LL MEET YOU AT THE CEMETERY GATES

 Our cemetery fence was felled to make bombs & bullets for a War Effort long ago. The stumps of old metal posts jut from a low, brick wall like rotten teeth in a rictus smile. Our war dead lie within neat rows. Felled by bombs & bullets, some made from old enemies cemetery fences.

GYMNASTY

I hear two foxes or two cats

Both at it like jackrabbits

I curse their noise but score them 10

For carnal acrobatics.

TEA - A SIMPLE GUIDE

 

The sacred preparation of the nations favourite cuppa

Is in part a celebration passed on down from fellow suppers

Some will warm the pot before and some may simply just forget

But if you use a pot or not please just make sure it's hot and wet.

CHANGING MOONS

 

In a cosmic, changing room

A hypnotic, waning moon

Starts to wax gibbous

Tries new clothes to give us

The latest in lunar costume.

GOING FOR GOLD

 Third cup of coffee: 

Searching for El Dorado

A route by any means

My mug's full of bravado

I climb this hill of beans

A MEMORY OF GLASS

 

I polish the glass

To make it cleaner

To counter the past

And Time's patina.

ENCORE

 Monday strays

Into Tuesday's ways

Encore! Encore!

The acts replayed.

THE ICE QUEEN

 It was so cold last night I heard the gnomes in my back garden knocking on my door to come in. Snow up to their hats!

Not so my holly tree. She's seen it all before. Standing proud in waxy, prickly, defiance. The true Ice Queen of my garden. 

Well, her and a discarded freezer.

TEA FOR TWO AND GLUE

 Morning has broken

What shall we do?

I'll fetch the tea

You fetch the glue

SIPPING FOR TREASURE

 First cup of coffee: 

Just one sip is all it takes

To free my mind

And body's aches

To find from one mug

So much pleasure

I sip some more

I sip for treasure

COMPOSED UPON MOBILE PHONE

I'm a wandering, modern poet

And I'm wondering out loud 

If I lose my words I'll blow it 

So my words worth's in The Cloud.

HOPE SPRINGS

 The interminable crawl towards Spring. Hope lies eternal, out of reach, or so it seems. Just out of sight, the sap is starting to flex its muscles, if not yet rising. Those in blissful hibernation know not of a coming rebirth, but went to sleep on the promise it would pass.

ROMAN HISTORY LESSON - GENERALS

When it comes to Roman Generals there were loads

Scipio Africanus built Spain's roads

Tiberius was serious

And Caesar was a geezer

Mark Anthony and Cleo - horny toads.

EDIT

 

If I could edit my life

I'd start with this morning

The dog and my wife

I'd remove their snoring 

💤💤💤💤💤💤💤💤💤

HOPE AFTER THE RAIN

 HOPE AFTER THE RAIN

When all the clouds

Of tears have cried

In our surrounds

Their grief resides

But tears will dry

The cloud it parts

And sun will shine

On broken hearts

GOODBYE TRUMP

Goodbye Trump

You won't be missed

Except by those 

Whose cousins kissed

Goodbye Trump

Gimme six!

It's their high-five

When siblings mix.

GROUNDHOG DAY

 Groundhog Day in my street. Again. Soon it'll shake to the sound of a moped with a smokers cough. Then a dog will bark. My neighbour will try to start his van; curse, curse again, then drive off in the wrong gear for a hillstart. Then a dog will bark. I shall drink coffee. Again.

MONDAY AGAIN (written on a Tuesday)

If the Earth stopped turning

Then turned the other way

Would it be concerning?

Would we head to yesterday?

Would the clocks stop ticking?

Then tick the other way?

Don't want to be nitpicking

But we've all just done Monday.

SHINE ON

The day they turned my streetlights off 

I thought it was just pranks

But I was told by some rich toff

That my street crashed the banks.

We never knew we'd crashed the banks

We couldn't work out when

We tried to think but just drew blanks

A bit like Number 10.

SLAPSTICK WEATHER

Slapstick weather

Frost has sprinkled

Silver sparkles

Across the pavements

Diamonds on the

Soles of our shoes

Mine how you go.

BRITISH PROBLEMS

We part our curtains furtively

Me and my neighbour staring

We both don't do assertively

We draw them, both despairing.

PLATFORM SHOES

Light and rain smears sheen across the platform

waxed by ghost-feet to shiny perfection 

by those who arrive

by those who depart

with their tickets stamped they're paying their fee

on the click-clack commute

on the click-clack commute

on the click-clack commute

HOME OFFICE

 The rolodex of days flips inexorably forward. The Newton's Cradle of time smoothly taps through the hours. It's years since I sat in an office. I expect both rolodex and Cradle have since been replaced by apps. I pretend I'm working from home and sit up in bed on my coffee break.

THE BOX DEFLATOR

I flatten all my cardboard boxes

I'm the box deflator

I place them in a larger box

I'll flatten that one later

BACK TO BACKPACK

A back pack stacked

Against a shack

Lacks a knack for slack

But a back packed stacked

Against the back

Is harder to unpack

A back pack stacked

Into a crack

Stacked with almanacs

Helps the wack insomniacs

Keep their sacks on track.

BRANCHING OUT - A WARNING

All tree shadows

must never be climbed

if the sun goes in

you'll be stuck in a bind

waiting all day 

for the sun to shine

out on a limb

lumbered in time

FROZEN

I can't find words for how bitter it feels

Confined to silent thought

Discreet monologues of fog

Performed as far as the eye can't see

To audiences of one

A duvet of ground-level clouds

Swallows my legs

Tests our perception

I am standing on the shoulders of defiance

STARTLING

Floating breath

Floating word

Right above my head

STARTLING was the cold

That is what I said

The birds heard

STARTING with L they pecked at it

STARING at me they ate T

STRING as the A went to a Blue Tit

STING, R it did to me

SING they did

SIN they had

IN I went

I was alone

EARS TO HAT

There's nowt wrong

with a woolly hat

my ears are long 

they cover that

A baseball cap

makes me look silly

I'm not that chap

my ears get chilly

A nice flat cap 

at 53

makes big ears sap

my youthful glee

So then my ears

still growing long

like me appear

to be headstrong

FAKE NEWS

 In the dark I look to where the garden should be. I'm not 100% sure it's there. All I've heard recently is people yelling 'Fake News' at me and the world? I can't be sure anymore. Someone's chipped away at my confidence.

I switch on the light. Truth prevails. It was always there.

NO SEX PLEASE WE'RE CHICKENS

Consider eggs

Noble things

Powder kegs

Chick offsprings

Not the bits

We eat for brekkie

No wee chicks

Let's get techie

No chick inside

Just yellow centre

Be advised

The white's placenta

Crack an egg

Enjoy the show

Cos 1 chick begged

And 1 said no.

ROLLING

 Rolled my  first fag way back when

And gave it to my pap

Rolled some more for him again

And filled his old flat cap.

I watched him light my crafted stick

Blow smoke into the air

All his fags I made real quick

To disappear with care.

(The memory distant of a 1 time assistant)