We fell in love too young
And when we woke up it was gone
Not the love, but the youth,
Not the falling, but the truth.

We fell in love too fast
And no one got to finish last
Right buttons, wrong order -
It ended with a start.

We fell in love too freely
In the flicker of touchy feelies
The End - staring out the ceiling
For the slightest crack of meaning.

We fell in with the wrong crowd
Of love and lust and luck
Till nothing else was true
Except we couldn’t give a ****.

We all fell out in the end
Lovers, family and friends
Until nothing else was true
Except I fell in love once too.

Thank you for reading this far
I really didn't expect our relationship to get off to such a good start
After all it's easy to forget on this thing the internet
That you're often speaking to someone that you haven't really met.
And btw,
Please feel free to stop at any time
Honestly, I don't mind,
No go on -  really -
If you click away it's fine
We'll just put it down to our different styles -
I can't face in all directions
No matter how hard I smile.
But now, given that we're roughly at the halfway point
---------------------------->  x <------------------------------
Well, we've passed it now, but I'll still make the point
Once you're half way through this river of words
Turning round and heading home is on balance probably worse
Than just pressing on - so press ahead, keep the faith!
You never know a scrap of meaning might escape the maze!
After all, what is a poem if its subject is unclear?
And what's a human who does not know why he is here?
But by now you're probably getting bored of my rhymes
And wondering what else you could have done with your time...
Yet you carry on reading, a glutton for meaning -
I know you've kept up or you just wouldn't hear me
So now for my message, the bit I believe in -
You better click 'Like', before you click leaving.

My father gathered tinder from outside
and left the fire burning
as he disappeared upstairs.
My mother said goodnight.

Her fleece followed her
like Charlie Brown
away and up to bed.

The  cheap green leather
where I sat
felt shiny and thin
and big enough for two.

My other half I imagined
tucked up and dreaming of me
wrapped as one
and breathing in her breath.

There’s something in the fire wood
side by side
two twigs have met
in flaming consumation.
All that remains is death.

"How old are you?" I ask.
"Guess!" she says and giggles.

Old enough to have a favourite brand of cider
And write poems about breaking up.
Old enough to say, "I don't do boys",
And hold Zoe's hair while Zoe's throwing up.
Old enough to wear a tu-tu in a half ironic way
And not rise to the bait, whatever chavie-di and chavie-dum might say.

We're dancing down the high street
Up the sunsplashed canal
Underneath the pirate bridge
It's like another town;
Camden's wearing make-up
Like a goth come out in Spring
The teens are taking over
And they're forcing us to sing
Bring yourself, bring a smile
Bring bring what you can bring
The teen's are taking over
And they're forcing us to sing.

"How old are you?" I ask.
Flirteen she says, and giggles.

I don’t believe in growing up
I’m still a schoolboy pratt
Whenever I see bra-straps
They just fidget to be snapped.

Sunburnt brit:
It’s the new colour
In the Dulux range this summer.

If dogs had people’s thumbs
And people had dogs’ tongues
Would they be texting messages
While we were sniffing bums?

The cutest thing is when confused
Mummy’s little soldier
Waves the skirt of truce.

I guess there was a last time
I sat on daddy’s head
And grabbed on tight to his greying hair
As he led me by the legs

… a watercolour freshness
breezes through the open window.
The trees are stretching,
Shaking their sleeping dust dew
From their earthy leaves:
Nature’s man-made morning is
Apple-crunch crisp.

Black ink branches stretch sober against the drunken orange sky determined brush strokes ever upwards side by side lovers carve their names in oak afraid that they alone are not enough to bear witness to their greatness

fearless twigs to root themselves in air and ***** at nothingness ever upwards and alone inside themselves a cold wind blows they brush each other in the breeze while green tips know that somewhere long ago and down below

we were related

but now

no turning back threatened by inflation and rivals that compete through fear and jealousy compare ourselves and someone has to lose happiness no more magic than energy neither made nor lost just changing

hands our currency no worth our pompous pity cannot afford the toll to pass a millimetre closer to ourselves in ever shrinking families as words remove us from our cousins and define our being badly