We grew bulbs on the windowsill
Having tasted our marshmallows
and respected our teachers
Like kestrels we waited eagerly to learn
And wore white poppy's the whole of November
We were never defiant
Always standing to attention
Spelling hard words made easy

Brick by Brick
they are taking apart the town,
in their own image
Effortlessly
actioning and conspiring
every speck of green
is their hallowed ground
to lay down the foundations.

Come to Croydon
It's like a ship going down
Some have found their new Nova
a cash cow made of stone

stone feet with grey hearts,
the army of the lonely
find so little solace
in the turnaround
they were meant to conquer

I'm cleaning the kettle
counting daybreaks
and igniting my heart

I throw a brittle stick
into the blackness of the garden
and let you into a secret of mine

I don't look like my Mother
I'm Cinderella instead
an outlier  sibling
a decorous counterpoint

Dragonfly days
are wishful bucolic  times.
There are blue clouds
to match their wingspan
and cider with Ruby
on merry go rounds,
promises of love
and heirlooms set  aside

"Steep steps for a cafe"
said arthritic Lucy.
"The **** rain plays it up".
Her husband brought the tea
and 4 slices of bread
to feed to the sea gulls.

I'm the cat that gets the creme
i may look lost and disposed
until you feed me.
If you have your own cats,
despite giving me a name.
I upsurp them, half knowing i've done wrong.
I will leave and be feed by a doting  spinster,
just for effect.

My name is Michael O'Brien.
I live in the woods,
with squirrels for my only company.
I've got no need for anyone,
im a crusader for loneliness
although im not the only one.
There's Peter ORaugherty,
who lives in a cave
with rabid bats only for company.

in the stillness of winter  
the dark city annoints
obscure spirits flying by.

Beyond the sweltering light
the broken colonnade of
scrapped Cheviots drifts away
Soon the rusted barbed  wire
will be swallowed  by the evening hues

The solitary hummingbird
bathed in indigo light
faces down the feral cat

Only a tentative song
expounds the legend
that defeat never was an option

Ketchup those delirious feelings
play to the soul's groove
Nothing is baffling yonder that hill
it plainly exists for those new feelings.
Criticism is unfounded, no parley
Why because we persist beyond
yesterdays hesitancy
Our minds seeded on mighty euphorias
dynamos of times fast forwarded

PM rescued by Civil Police
with a parliamentary redacted procedural withdrawal
questionable Ukrainian WAR WAR diplomacy
cost of living Inflation by stealth

Land and rock slides
are the order of the day
They point to twilight world
Like a speechless old woman
With pitable likeness to a witch
And when she froze
She had flown for five miles
on a broom handle
A little lose on the left bends
Disliked like the anonymous sea

when it shines i daydream about Minia
and I retrace her footprints,
blessing where she stood
on silver threads of love,
still tasting her aroma.

The hum of electric contacts
fire heater
and the best nook by the computer
Interstellar locations
of the domestic lounge-type

arching your back
for a stroke
while carrying on sleeping
one open -eyed Patrick
let's articulate the imitative

Plastic puddles pervade.
Even through the looking glass,
Hearts of darkness.
Trees of madness set me free.

As the calvary of life raises.
Through the climbers rise of parody,
ballast hope,
Realisation of what you did to me.

May is the blue print month
where the garden fast forwards,
in its boisterous growth
The shrubs are the season's tidings
with deciduous azleas and blushing
rhododendoms,
but beware of the summer ennui

Pale Sons move in  electric light
Their yellow hair brittle like straw
Contemptuous of time and place
Such an unceasing guise

Autumn give me your mists
and your warm soil,
squirrel pledge your kernels
of deciduous brown,
soon tall shadows
ply their density,
whilst the arcane wind is hazy,
as it soft-pedals on the meadowlands,
time picks the gourds of Autumn.

I saw what looks like full framed timbers
rabald people passing through
London Bridge
every passerby premises a different life story
happy, indifferent, bothersome.
I alone stand gazing,
much admiring their endeavours
they have every chance to thrive
more fortunate than salmons
no short life mission
but a myriad development
aided by passion for materialism
that sees their umbrellas sign post Copenhagen  2012

Grand Daughter of SDP members
hoisting their own red-letter day
with today's Innere language
Writing in English
they grant empathy
to their penfriends abroad
a long way from Heimat

Practice renders perfection
Writing as a seasoned second language scriber
kindly sharing view's
from Frankfurt am Main

The ****** for any Allotment holder
is harvesting Pumpkins with foliage
for October
with the clocks back
they'll relish digging over the soil
looking forward to another year

Meanwhile the Farmers markets
at Herne Hill and Dulwich
will set our retro-chic spiralling
a half loaf of brioche
and a Mrouzia Tajine purchased
amidst the newly penny conscious
"adequate provision" becomes the norm

We could go down the Spectre and Crown
where all the punters would admire your
white boots and penguin suit
Then we could go to the London Zoo
where you'd hear the hubris of
the laughing hyenas
and your whiskers would react deftly in the air
recalling some ancient fear
Then for the weekend, we go to Blackpool
and you'd taste one of the roller coasters
using one of your ample cats' lives

Spring grants us it's golden daffodils,
swathes of honesty from the window.
Spring is neigh.
The world pledges it's amen.

In April somewhere where
sunbeams and Carousels glisten.
He was happy to share in the clover.
The sun was pouring
by way of a morning breeze,
and his plate was full
belly up he floated,
in the shallow water,
where the moon wanders.
His dreams lay sheltered,
against the cove
in the body of another.

Dance again
Enjoin your red lips to mine
You're cooler than a glass of water

Now the moon is ready
The unpainted green pains me
all alone
On borrowed clouds
Can't reach you but I try

Cynical Town,
knocking houses down
to be made in flats,
except when there's a colony
of crested newts.

A thwarted town regeneration,
tombstones of empty shops.
Voting on the 5th May
for a consensual mayor
Goodbye Labour,
you have unnerved Croydon.

Daisy chains and sheltered coves
Gaze into the turquoise landscape
Coldstreams on the island
Where have you been?
Let us talk of the past
Reinvoke the present
And remember that's how strong my love is
Filed under found

Gone are the days we spoke truth
by the river bank.
All your promises were never meant,
and I lament your sudden change
oh you siren;
a wind of remiss.

Lord our peacemaker
teach us eternal light,
to breathe your wonders,
enriches our heart.

You could afford a pink bathroom
But had a freyed t- shirt
You sapped bitter
And had manacial 1970s whiskers
But I'm interested in your mind
I am quite listenable
I want to taste your Thunderberg wine
And deserve to be sanquinely addressed by you.

I spoke to the trees,
but the lectern  would not listen.
I got up in the dark
and the sky tussled with the weeds,
who wrote a poem for me
and with open arms
I applauded it.

I went off together,
through the trees
gained in insight,
and invited them to hear,
to the serenade,
yet being alone,
from dream to dream

i am winter
you are the stars
we trek across the hinterlands
wherever we go

I am early morning
you are the aurora
together we easel a wondrous sight.
I am the evening
you are the dusk,
cossetting each other
in our urbane delight.

Follow up at unhappiness
The sweet deadly rinse of decay
passing through chaos
A Windrush forest flame asures

I walk on the seashore
Through ordeals reign of pain
The deep sea canyons
To the ocean of despair
Those lonely contestations
Will fall away like confetti

on a crest of a wave
she rides on halycon days

February can have sunshine as autumn or face the freezing rain.
Its soldier plants hardy preside.
Crocuses unharmed standing knee high in water,
or Irises thrusting their indomitable
flowers through the snow,
and our sageful Snowdrops taking on everything that comes.

Finance holds the town back
They've closed down the Milan Bar
and Currys moved out
Sing to the skeleton of a town center
carrying the deluged plough unto my ears
the promises of the councilors, prowl
towards helplessness

Don't know  where to hide the bodies,
or where that wild smile came from.
But I've got a bad feeling,
the longer this goes on
spots on the Sun will appear
as with gaps on the wall
If there isn't a body
then there's no crime
to support several lives
coming home.

Josephine will bake for you
and iron your clothes,
but never call her fancy free
for she has much love for you.
Build her dreams by making
her a greenhouse ,
where she can grow her asters
and think of the stars,
glistening so brightly
for someone so natural.

Valentino was performing high fives
looking for the tried and tested for the night

A frightened lizard showed her reticence
whilst her brothers were rampant in their cravings
partying like  the last days of Rome

Let Peccano tell the truth
for once in his life
He could ungrow his nose
so he could follow  the nostrums

Sad Sara
tried to tie up lose ends
shes rubbed out RSVP
from the birthday invite.
The end game is nigh
shes found new independence

The Fridge is buzzing like an engine ready to take off,
maybe because the freezer is empty.
The kitchen floor is covered with  newspapers
The old carpet has been pulled off
all we need is a lino to finish the job.

Tiptoe through turquoise longues
curtain nets a  twitching
Ladies faces wistful
maybe tomorrow change
I am the breeze
cool as peaches
Houses were seen for miles
your eyes belie them
Me my friend

where are our heroes?
their bland bleatings we suffer,
this static turn
on Albion street.
Their illicit Lockdown Party's
burn an incense
in our souls,
our gallant sacrifice thwarted.
This luster flathead etched,
upon hoardes of Townies and ruralites memories

Assorted formats E6 C41's B/W
the freedom to choose.
Analogue photography,
so composite for the waiting completionist.
Central weighted or average metering
there's a modernist matrix too,
and manual focusing
or automatic focusing.
Selenium, CDS, or silicon photocells.
Cobalt shutters or cloth curtains.
This is the playground for  the eager:
creativity for those patient users.
Incident or reflected light meters
to avail,
country scenic views

my sweet acorn laid there,
to feel your love
the thirst is spoken.
let it go on this way forever,
this dewy feeling,
with your wild acres
and cool brown hair.

Novels are great,
reading  is more than a treasure,  
its a pleasure entering another world,
Empathy with the characters is the be all of it.
Your inner voice, the heard sanctum.

Your single shingle waysides:
is a  desert's outreach,
tiled orange tin shack,
your spiked garden, prevaricates.

Commercial photos are verboten,
only payment to the estate ensures.
Messrs and co got caught that way

Up with laughter
down with sorrow
I will wait till tomorrow
to see the seasons change

Stop being intellectual
you need to follow the horde
Their platitudes won't hurt you
Then find a  bucket of joy
Tease your way home
by the Autumn river