when biting autumnal breeze

sweeps past these craggy rocks

its howling whispers - seducing;

sparing no thought of mercy --

blinking lights on distant shore

pontooned my heaving heart

across dark "brewding" waters,

astride bland but porous sky

billowy clouds float aimlessly by

Much like Icarus, off they go; 
until condensation metes them 
reality's condescension:

Whose goals and objectives
are minute in life's greater scheme; 
wings fashioned from floss harps-

Yet they soar each firmament;
nary a doubt would sway resolve;
no tempest or tumult could dissuade.

If you chance upon a cloudless day
catch their echo of jubilant cries
and contemplate your turn to fly.

. 




The door shuts behind, 
key turns, footsteps 
stravege after 
a tedious shift; 

eyes lift up 
then revert back 
to telly, magazine, 
PS3 and tablet. 

The dining table 
is empty yet cluttered 
inhabited by non-edible 
non-essential stuff. 

'There should be 
something or other 
in the fridge, ' 
a mouth points. 

'Got that, thanks.' 
Footsteps stravege back, 
that's what it feels like 
to be a meal-ticket. 

The door slams shut.



_ __✒
●○
°

On powd'ry grains of sand
At genial island's narrow end,
Morning gently breaks:

I cast stones at crested waves;
Cheeks still moist in briny breeze.

This is your ultimate admonition
To set perspective in proportion
Of an age old curse, set in motion
It's time to take out the tanning lotion!

You would have died some time ago,
and several times over, since;
lost upon yourself, your day of birth:
as well as of the reason to be born.

In a gruelling process of ascent,
there upon this ever wearying rut;
mind and heart raised white flags,
leaving behind an ill-worn tune.

Perhaps it explains this spectral jaunt;
of faded jeans and dog-eared books,
as faint lip balm fragrance dissipates,
your erstwhile existence from us torn.

'

'I was born half alive, the other half partly insane.' 
she dribbles inaudibly...... grinning coquettishly; 

and in between, there is no apology. 

Even the deaf can fathom underhanded effrontery. 
She however, will not brandish fangs without syrup.







____✒
○●

Once or so a day I go, to
gather together my thoughts
And let them hop upon a page
Where they perform on stage
Each post, each comment
All a merry figment
Once bumped off
The dream is dead.
'Gig's up!' So it's said.
A game that's all in my head.

Tendril-wafted dunes
of barren sands waffle,
swirl across mindless mile
upon mile, in every direction-
your face appears, a horizon away,
there is little comfort found
in its accompanying echoes.


Drifting sticks caterwauling,
wail on, in the pitched wind,
stretched by distant recollection-
stylus of a scribe named Regret;
each flurrying breeze shifts
turns over and over a new page,
taking with it freshly shed tears.


Foetid droppings steaming out
of some wastrel, desert vagabond
provides a vivid reminder
of how it can never be again,
to kick it away -- desolation
could only deign contaminate
these well-worn wandering shoes.


Head facing forward
wherever the nose points
except in the back of the mind
where gentle oasis burbles-
each leafy frond conceals
intimate moments now buried
within the unmindful desert's belly.*


●○
°

simply put:
freudulent
slips of(f) the thong



●○
°

(wedge tailed banality)

why are you so easy
to walk past
but then so difficult
to forget?--

a cattle brand that
sears each waking moment;
scathe dreams of night:
what memory tarries

are rumpled bed-
clothes at sun up
and scribbled sheets
sojourn inconsolate
on a litter-strewn desk

Etched in my heart, patterned chiselling emotion

Under foot the mossy down through forgotten paths

jolted by breath, your air reminds me of that time

now you have gone away into the sun and shade

playing and wandering in another clime and place

among countless souls all tucked neatly away

behind numerous stone markers, row upon row

like counting bits of sand too numerous to hold

whose gravelly grains have scattered in my mind

reflecting serenely what once was yours and mine*




_ _ __ ✏
○●
°

Feet throb through well worn shoes 
after a brisk walk to central station. 
We keep our ears plugged with our beats 
to finally find seated, at furtherest point; 

Backs of heads, napes, and collars 
mushroom away, stare blankly ahead - 
polarised sunnies paint them bright; 
choked only by an assumption of gain.

And all I see is a tiny reflection of me. 
Here in my world another day begins: 
a mourning of suited, tired paramours;
in this cosmos of peopled isolation.*



_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

Breathe in -  aspire
breathe out -  expire
my aspiration knows no expiration.

With each sunset  
there be -  sunrise awaits
and therein lies my expiation.

And here, a dowry stay
a muse forlorn, receive
what could, no longer can.

Here in a downy refuge lay,
this germinant resolve:
what I was I no longer am.

I know it’s a bit lame, but here I stay,  

Hoping for a nod, a word, some say.  

Responses to my poems, thin but kind,  

They bring a warmth, a solace to my mind.



In every comment, human touch I find,  

A thread that weaves me closer to mankind.  

It's not much, yet it keeps my spirit bright,  

My daily dose of human touch each night.

your northern smile embraces -
shining stars in the dimming sky

sparkles burst and pierce me
such brightness lightens my load
another day closes, sun sleeps
another night begins, stars keep

a hope of us together one day

across an ocean that divide us
steps hasten screen door bangs
my chin lifts, eyes peering deep
this night is your day my sweet

slumber with fondest thoughts
our souls' yearning tendrils enlace.

perhaps I hung
around him a
little more than

that made for
awkwardness

called it hero
worship - infantile
idolatry; or just

a deep-seated
longing for the
older brother

that I never had

tall, smiling
confident;
nobody's fool

rescued me when
I released the handbrake
car flew over the pool

his mum's front hedge
was never the same again



●○
•

pre-school reminiscent,
funny how peculiar memories could be...

What if I asked,
for you to remove that mask?
I want to see if you're true,
if underneath, it's really you.

And with each turn
of opportunity I have asked
of you to see me and
to quit requiring me to put

my mask back on...
realise, unmasked value:
this is me, and all of who I am;
hopefully, that is enough for you.*




_ _ __ ✏
●○
°

one moment of life
exquisite pleasure
droned and drugged-up
then, it's on with
sustaining their future....

once her she-spider
majesty is widowed
many, many times over,
a cyclical dance in which
you're out of the picture*




_ _ __✒
●○
°

All this who-ha about
Distance in relationships
But what of short-distance
Instead of long, or even
Point blank relationships!
Too much space, so-so-**-hum,
And claustrophobic, let me get
A breathe, tight of chest and
Body parts gone to sleep
Only you can suffer as
Ants crawl on pins and needles;
While all along your love
Looks on with a hurt and
Quizzical look!  So down it goes
You sink in a puddle of woes.
It really don't matter the distance
True love should always pull through.

sometimes indecisiveness
is just the wrongest decision
for anyone to ever make

sometimes we just have
to dive in and go with our gut
embracing whatever may result;

sometimes, apologies are enough
when things don't go your way
because it's time to do it mine

sometimes, getting first time right
is not what your life has shown
so, it's okay for me to have another go

it's only taken forty years for you
to realise you love me and be proud
perhaps another forty'll make you really care

your boomer ways are so busted
they don't work here and now
perhaps I need to find my own way

it won't break your ego to be supportive
respect is not earned but extended
perhaps you only need to trust & believe;

every time my child's heart breaks
a memory jolts this scathing parody
perhaps this curse can be broken still:

it doesn't take much to make it right

peering out this excuse of a window
a crack, really, into a view less spectacular
barely catching self from tripping over
in this bed-sized atrocity of a room
that costs heaps more than an arm & a leg

oh, and don't venture out that door, today
that job you landed wasn't your first choice
and coffee tastes like something died in it
no, don't step into the street ever again
not for a second rate-life-- scraps for mains

take another look and refocus your lens;
hey, the smoke isn't that big, after all*



_ _ __✒
●○
•

there need not be iron bars
to keep a heart imprisoned
there is no white flag of surrender
nor o-d, nor cutting would resolve

nor does the coming-off of chains make one trully free
the stench of blood curdled cold
staining my cheek with ferrous-ity

on that flee bitten bunk each unforgiving night
a plaintive prayer wafts in upward draft
to rejoin the fraying bonds of you and me


no prison bars my mind and heart could hold
no gruesome sight my countenance would melt
if we but have a moment pure as gold

what have you done:
given voice to silence,
wings to unspoken thoughts,
face to emotions deeply masked;
solid darkness now made bright
when words, unutterable, take flight,
making them no longer alone*


●○
°

rock people
marking-pen smiles
open stone-faces

rolled down
the escarpment
onto back garden

afternoons;
we are no longer
alone


●○
°

As long as there are no longer
tears of sorrow and regret

May the kindest gestures
of filial affection ever beget;

our friendship has been
blest from shore to shore,

each wondrous exchange
our devotions now restore

Shoulders slump as footsteps fade into
the darkened hallway; out of sight.
Then a click-sound of a door, shut;
punctuates a chest-heaving full-stop.

Regret now seeps across the
tidal plain, waiting in vain hope
for a reverse ebb that doesn't arrive.
Regret, only regret remains:

Strain and hear that inaudible sigh
as you lock lips in silhouetted embrace;
It was the kiss of a toxic cocktail--

It's the burnt smell of rubber
that lingers thick in the air after
the smouldered wreck on the road.

It's the ping of a pin dropping
after a grenade had been lobbed
and the afterthought of my diving --

But did I dive to shield you or
was it to duck out of the way?

Regret is the sound of pebbles
tapping off a casket lid as they
bounce from a cascade of apologies.

Still that door clicks shut -- the last time.
Your footfalls fade into the bright,
searing light of pain that is left behind.*




_ _ __ ✏
●○
°

There are shadows all over
Shining darkly in reverse;
Pointy ears of impish horns,
Whose stalks ravaged worn;
Chant rondeaus of curses
On a sea of four-leaf clover.

'

*Data storage now keeps forgotten memories; 
images and words from jubilant revelries. 

The clock is a blur of digits these days 
and nothing is clear but tomorrow's maze. 

So off we go to bury unwitnessed sunsets; 
replacing our garden beds with plastic regrets. *




____✒
○●
°

dare we click that
marketplace button
unleash excitement
of various polarities
live and breathe all of
changeabilities now
tomorrow has its
newness lined up

' 

shadowed 
in early evening's 
darkened corner 

his smile 
responds to your 
gruff remark 

and you 
do not see 
the tear 

rolling 
from his cheek 
he turns 

the faintest hint 
of sadness 
cloaks his eye






____✒
○●
°

Cheshire cat lazily frowns,
smile turned upside down
while all the way to town
a lady from Down Under
hobbles along, in a freshly
frayed, browned-gown*




●○
•