Philistine & Palestine
not talking though, so
it's a similar situation
as the Ire-Lands, also
set up by Palace Stein.

I am like
A wax man
Whose heart burns brightly with flame
But whose body wilts
Beneath the strain

She was appealing
With scars still healing
She was curvy.
Men love that ****,
*****
stared and gawked
“Hey let’s just talk”
Which translate into
“Let’s just ****”

The heart has become
foreign to the knock
of love on its doors
It stored a doorbell

(01.31.18/09:00 pm/ during the rare super blue blood moon)

Tonight, the world watches you with its’ naked eyes
And behind the telescopes and lenses, you shine.
You shine brighter than the city lights.
You reign like a queen in the night sky.
And the stars, your jewels, hail you with their lights.
From the endless dark canvas above, moon, you are admired.

I take in the poison from this death of me
And expel a cloud of smoke out of these dying lungs.
Thinking about why you are so out of reach,
Why are you so far from my grip?
If only I am as far from them as I am from you.
Maybe, they would never get to hurt me.

So, I pray that before the night ends,
Before you go,
I pray you’ll take me with you.
Out of reach and far from pain.
Out of reach and admired.
So please, take me with you and never back.
Never again.

I don’t care if you’re black or you’re white
I don’t care if you’re rich or you’re  poor
I don’t care how you get all the money you spend when you get what you get at some store
I don’t care if you’re nice or you’re mean
If you’re tall, short, stocky, fat and or lean
I’ll come in like a truck and **** everything up
I don’t care who gets to or gets to not see
I don’t care if you’re crazy or sane
If you’re rotten with riches and fame
If you have a great life
Some great kids - a great wife
I’ll still give you reason for blame
Invisible bricks to your feet
And thought trains derailing in brain
Just one word I can say
to shackle you with my shame
I’m Depression and I’ll take your name.

Find me a boy
To hug me softly
And hold my hand
Under the street lights.
One for sweet kisses
And freshly picked flowers.
A lifetime of firsts--
Of young love.

Find me a man
To hold me fiercely
And cry with me
While looking at the stars.
One for protective threats
And long drives leading nowhere
Needing deep, passionate words.
With that oh so scary word:

One for love.

Sighs,
the day before the day before the weekend which always flies.

I'd like a stewards inquiry into why we are the way we are.

A lady suggests
'Stand clear of the doors'
I need no second telling.

Well in
the mood for a bowl of hot food
porridge will do

and wouldn't you know
the world and its wife want
to go the way that I'm going.

the sign reads,
Doors will open on the right hand side
pointless'
for the sighted.

and now the sign reads,
Destination, West Hampstead'
that's a turn up for the books,
quizzical looks,
I might be on the wrong train
or the right train on the wrong track
or the sign could be faulty,
being me I shall wait and see

lazy is good when you're bone idle.

I awoke at three
made a choice between
coffee or tea
and drank cocoa.

A tube cubed,
what's the answer?

Losing it
or losing what little
that's left,
doors still open on
the right.

Now under
London Bridge,
construction
box girder and
****** by concrete.

no garages here,
I hope I'm not having
a breakdown.

I know I'm good for another
few years
crankshaft healthy
working gears
the clutch slips
probably due to the
oil drips.

I identify as a Model T
and call myself
Henry.

.                       c   r
                      a      o
Monsieur M          n approached
the ooo,ooo,ooolympic committee
seeking admission for a new sport
to be included in the next games.

The last fruit and vegetable shop closed today ,
part of Ashford has gone away ,
next door to the church for fifty years ,
Dave and Jim and Brian will never get old .
Vegetables with no cling film ,
or selefane wrapping ,
Mushrooms as large as you’re hand ,
Kale in bundles not sold in plastic bags ,
Plumbs prunes and potatoes.
Peaches apples and pears ,
purple brocole all tied in a bundle ,
all sold in brown paper bags .

The fish man arrived once a week ,
Where from Grimsbys shores we bought . .

The bells rang out on Sundays,
Where at Christmas,
Trees would be bought ,
Lined one by one  .

So tomorrow the supermarket s will becon ,
with their plastic wrapping and plastic bags ,
So spare a thought for the fruit and veg ,
With no plastic wrapping and celefane veg ,
the old shop where the community shed a tear ,
for Ashford’s last fruit and veg ,
has been and left here .

Last night I saw a picture ,
from 1910 ,
yes  I guess they were still there way back then .