Some say metaphors are
a refuge for the inarticulate,
a maisonette for the
narrow minded.

Others, may feign indignation
at such a lowly art.
a sometimes mansion for the
oft times creatively bankrupt.

I - as a lover of metaphor
couldn't give the tiniest of *****--
in my a two up two down
with outside toilet and tin bath.

Somewhere, there
is a fat man dancing,
and behind his rusty grin
lies a man thats lithe and thin.

Passchendaele.

Off dead mens lips
fell the clarion call.
"Away up lads
Away us all--
Forward
Forward
till we fall !!"


Off dead mens lips--
fell the clarion call.

"Reply from God"

Sometimes silence is violent,
unspoken words beating
you about the ears
and paranoia going about his business

I quite like plastic sandals,
**** shaped candles,
and big assed women in my bed,
I like artistic folks and ***** jokes
and piccalilli on rye bread,
I like big gay men and Tony Benn,
loud mouthed scousers and Steven Fry,
I like The small faces whisky chasers
and come home Lassie - made me cry.
I like the upturned curl
of ******* dog lip
the hurl and swirl
of big girl hip.
I like Bevelled slick edges
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.

Let me be your drowning man,
then you could be my saviour,
when you are all that is, and all I am,
for your love, I am but a slave for.