Jam First then cream,
Scone not scone
Fulfill that elusive dream.

“Its not ideal” I often scream
But its something that people often moan
Jam first then cream

And yet to the heaven as they careen
To hear the folk who often drone
Fulfill that elusive dream

How people with their teas preen
And how the others should atone
Jam first then cream.

Surrender your Englishness become clean
You’ll never feel again alone
Fulfill that elusive dream.

You are perfect do whatever you mean
Scone not scone
Fulfill that elusive dream
But please remember, Jam first then cream.

Getting older, getting bolder.
Mismatched views, news propaganda
Creating zombies, full of slander.
Eking out their time, shouting online,
An echo chamber but please remember,
That the views they hold have a defender.
Nourished on hate, a divisive spate.
Sanctimoniously smug sold with a shrug.
Cloning more rabid unsightly thugs.
The media praised; eyes glazed.
Double dealing, thought stealing,
Callous uncaring vapidly preening.
Selling copious copies and intervening.
Binding society to a populist game,
Ridden with shame, filled with pain,
How the hell can this remain?

Sleep calls, its siren song sounds
filling synapses with treacle toxin
sluggishly eyes falter, breath deepens.
Reality falls away.
Anxiety ascends to its throne,
taking charge, parading crystalline hate
in celluloid reels, images encrusted
spattered and damaged.
Fists start to clench,
pounding pillows,
trying to free those innocents,
away from the nightmarish thugs
vapours in the mind.
Foot kicks and kicks once more,
as fist finally hits something hard
knuckles leaving ****** imprints on the floor.
Another night awake, scared of sleep.
Crimson dripping awaiting to be stemmed.

I'm not broken,
Just slightly used
A worn out bag
A man confused

I'm not broken
Not exactly crap
Just someone who worries
about being a sad chap

I'm not broken
You can see from my smile
Its not really a facade
Something I'm trying to style

I'm not broken
I'm functioning at best
No longer tied to other harms
Of which I can attest.

I'm not broken
I'm one of those buoyant folk
The ones who have a glassy grin
You wish would explode in smoke.

I'm not broken
I might say this often
To hope that you don't see me
and I'll be soon forgotten.

Swathes of words, forms, meter.
Colours bright, objects defined,
Sometimes even a rhyme sublime
But you know, not all the time.
Humour, drama in equal proportions
Concocted, rabidly written
Sauntering silently scrawling on
Engaging in alliteration
Scritching scratching on the page
Pen dipped in onomatopoeic fiction,
Which I hear is all the rage.
And not a serious predilection.
With Haiku, pantoum, syllables counted,
Rhythm and meter often flouted.
Obey the only one holy law,
Enjoy your writing, it’s not a chore.

Befriended by a billowing beast
Who came a knocking on my door
Smiling in a bullish way
Was a fearsome minotaur*

'Excuse me sir, not to intrude
But do you have some sugar you could lend?
I've just moved into the neighbourhood,
I hope such Impertinence doesn't offend.'

Nervously i filled the sugar bowl
He regaled its pewter beauty
'Sir you are most erudite'
Gave a wink 'you are a cutie!'

This is why I'm on this date
I didn't think its wise to refuse.
I'm too much of a simpering coward
To upset a man with sharpened hooves

A touch, soft, just a hand brushing the face,
Finger tips gently caressing, now waits,
For the momentary silken embrace,
With hearts entwined in a blissful state.
Love itself, conquering all, dispelling
Sadness, loneliness, negativity,
Banished. Simple with words compelling,
Just a light touch to garner brevity.
Now both holding close and beating as one,
Your hearts fulfilled with Aphrodite’s gifts.
Eyes, staring soul deep, intent with attention.
Lips meet, join together in a longing kiss.
The moment lasts, a minute, a lifetime,
Love itself both vibrant and sublime.

Spring brought forth the dusting of grandeur
The blossom exploding from baring bud,
Showering lawns with lilac dander.
A benediction bound in nature’s love.
Branches laden, heavy with flowers
Sweet adulation in perfumed repose,
Beauty distinct fragrant overpowers
Consuming the senses is manic throes.
Then it fruits, its summery shift
To languish berries bright bursting red
For us to pick as the seasonal gift
Before the tree starts to Autumnal shed.
Start again your sleep encrusted with snow
Until the awakening when winter goes.