Your real fear is not of falling
but of
jumping off the edge
and
finding that you cannot fly.

Friday and a catcall.

the spider ambling up the kitchen wall
hears nothing and yet sees it all and then
there's me, fifteen fathoms deep in sleep unaware that the world out there is turning on a light to show what happens in the night.

Did I dream?
yes and weirdly so
but you don't need to know
of what,
it's filed away and on a quiet day
I will reflect upon it.

The spider's gone
I'm not sure where
it could be underneath
the rocking chair,

such a dangerous time
and
even though the spider is
no friend of mine
I wish it well.

..and if he does not
then
what has god got?

a house in the Shires.
churches with spires
and millions of choirs?
( because he saves them )

we have to do
and if we don't do
who are we
to question faith.

They'd like to put me in a category
consign me to obscurity
which is like sending me off to Coventry
and if it isn't me
it could be you.

These flies are definitely Spanish
not that I think that one of them
is  a ‘Spanish Fly’

and I think
they’ll die flying
or die trying

whatever,

I’m reading
seeds for the growing or so
I am told,

listen
Enid Blyton
will never get old
however
this book is by
( well *** me )

Dostoevsky.

I'm watching raindrops drop away
that scattered out of Saturday
and now I know why
grim's the thing,

the toaster will not toast
the kettle refuses to sing,
everything's against me
Sunday is looking grim.

I have seen you
in my darkness
and you became
the light within me.

Not known at the equator
please return to sender.

If this is the Summer
I'm not paying for it,

absolutely pithtaking weather
and I wrote that with a lisp
it was going to be with a list
but I'm so pithed off
I lisped instead of listed.

I make fun
and so
apparently
does the sun.

You cannot forget what you’ve seen
when you’ve been and witnessed
but you’re not Jehovah
so
get over it.

The flesh may be willing but the mind lets go as the night is swallowed up and the day begins to glow and if you're in the know then you'll know what should come next.

well I never knew
didn't want to know
wanted to light all the fuses
and
watch the charges blow.

Saturday
is,
at this time in the morning
vastly overrated,
but
being aware that out there
the time zones are different
makes me no less indifferent
to
or no more confident in
the hope that change is coming.

As usual
it's still dark
or maybe that's just a mood,
it will brighten
I'm
lighting
the fuses.

Do you know what,
No?
and Neither do I

but why do we want to
when the answers within you

***,
Friday question time
**** on a lemon
squeeze a lime
fill your glass with *****
and not that **** stuff
made in Varrington.

and again he’s felling a tree
telling me
that it’s good to thin them
He
could be speaking of men
and who would know?

we’re taking it slow
trudging everywhere
which is like
here and there
only more so,

it’s a privilege afforded
the few
and if you’re one of
the few
you’ll know who
I’m referring to.

It’s getting late
night’s waiting
to drop in and
say hello,
time
for me to go.

Sweetcorn is doing well
so why add salt?

I could do this another way
another day
and some would say
do it,
go and strangle imagination
stifle
inspiration
buy a seat on the board of a
global corporation
or not,
but
sometimes it’s better to stick
with the things that you’ve got.

Life thoughts.
never put eggs in a satellite dish
they scramble the signal.

..and then there's me
writing **** poetry,
thinking
it'll be what it'll be
and it doesn't worry me
so
get over yourself.

Disillusionment
is buying a one-man tent
and realising
six people are camping with you,

it brings a whole new dimension to
'room for more on top'
but
this isn't a bus
this is us
being *******.

*******,
got myself a David Nixon magic set
and I still have to make my own coffee.

at least it's Friday.

Retro I know
but a long time ago
it wasn’t called retro
it was known as modern
and we were modern
now
we’re about as modern as a
Model T,

Henry turned into a Hoover
almost everything’s new
except for you and me
we’re just
artefacts from some
bygone history.

had we been retro a long ago
we’d have been worth a fortune
just have a look at what the gentrification
crew are doling out for stuff we threw away

yesterday gave us the clues
it’s just that
we didn’t know how to
decipher them

or even recycle them.

No one rises early
not even the birds
worms are safe in Spain,

I’m safe in the kitchen at
this time of the day.

The sky is slovenly grey
slouching above or below
the clouds
depending on which way
you view things and the cat
hangs outside the door patiently
waiting to see what
She might
provide it for breakfast
knowing that to wait for me
would be an exercise in futility.

...and here’s a thing,
I
can’t remember what day it is
and immediately forget why I
want to remember anyway.

Lines crease the face at a leisurely pace here,
something in the water perhaps or maybe
something in the beer?
another question seeking an answer
but it can wait alongside the cat

I
am used to that

I might just and
if I must then
I must
get out of bed,

I scratch my head
and try to decide.

..and then I wonder
if I'm there yet
and if I am
what did I go there for?

We can but try
but can we try?

The sixty four thousand dollar question

ask yourself this
when you **** your breath in
and you let your mind go
angels begin laughing
your heart starts to slow
and
the world spins about you

do you still want to know
the answer?

the camps will get bigger
and bigger
and fuller
and we'll mull it over
and make even bigger camps.

I thought it was a lucky bag
turns out it was a
sleeping bag
which I suppose was lucky
because I was
tired.

No owls yet
maybe they forgot about me,
how wise they can be.

Morning is still asleep
I am not
and that’s
one nil to me
or it would be
if
I could find a referee

Disentangling
the dream from reality
coffee percolating
which pleases me
I
shall wait and see what
the day has in store
which pleases me more,

silence
for now
is the best pain relief.

In the end
you forget the day,
the month, the year,
you even forget
why you're here,
but you never
forget
how she made you feel,

that stays real
forever.

If even a tiny part of me
is lodged in your memory
then
you will remember me
forever.

But if you really laid things out
investigated all the things you
thought about,

how big would that table have to be
and would you think
is that table only set for me?

What I like the best is the symphony of protest
thought going on,

daffodils in the barrels of rifles
peace in our.. time
the heavy-handedness of the mob
was turned into a velvet glove

bring back the Summer of love,
Greenham..
free the Birmingham...
ah
but them times has gone

slowly
by decree
the free will not be free
and we'll be
thrown under the
electric bus.

so
this Bohemian raps to me
and says hi
I'm Freddie Mercury,

well
I sees what I see
a four-foot-six bald man
who is not
Freddie Mercury.

mama just killed a man...

Sunday
and again
not a sunny day.
I
should be a
scuba diver
an
Uber driver
or
just give me a
fiver
and I'll
make some change.

forgot to get milk
so it's
black coffee
for me
it would have been tea
but
I forgot to get
it,

I have hope
also
I have soap on a rope
which must be antique
by now.

I went out
( like a candle does )
but I wouldn't say I liked it
so I came back in,

lit?
not one little bit,

I have been assured that I will be
if she creeps up and catches me

I'm waiting.

It's a one-eyed flamin' lottery
I'm there
but they wanna get shot of me,

*** luck?
well
ifya like me
and you ain't got a *** to **** in
and you're tired of kissing ***
pass me the sign on the dotted line,
and show me the ******' door.

This week has lasted a year and it's not over yet,
I guess that's what you get when you wish it was
Friday on Monday,
time
always wins and as the world spins faster
the clock just laughs and goes slower.

It's Friday tomorrow and
I wonder how long it'll take
to arrive
it will seem like forever
I hope I survive.

Artificial intelligence
is when you plug yourself
into the electric socket
and the kettle boils.

wired in but still
tired out.
is it
Friday yet?

He thought he was as happy as Larry
but I knew that Larry wasn't happy at all,

Harry had his back to the wall,
crippling debts crippled him
times were grim
the chances of him smiling were
slim,
no,
Larry wasn't happy at all.

yeah, yeah,
we could all name them
those men who need to
up their game,
then,
even though we know we know them
we'd know them once again.

but why should we name them
if we only find that we are them?

Trying to skip out of orbit
but frightened of flying alone.

It's Wednesday,
forgive me,
you'll live.

If you're up in the Lakes
or down in the Dales
one thing for sure is
you're not in Wales

I was in Wales once,
someone shouts
Josey?
cheeky *******.

wherever you are
it's far better to be there
than to be somewhere
where you don't like.

Woke up at three and what did I see?
me looking at me thinking the mirror plagiarised my image,

Tuesday is the answer given and we're living for the questions set, not dying for a tete-a-tete with Gabriel at the pearly gate which used to be gates until Bill took one,

that was a joke from an old bloke, youngsters like me are too busy waking at three and looking at the mirror.

She said,
here, they're for you,
slip on shoes
um
well
I've slipped on banana skins
but never on shoes

thanks, I said,
I'll watch out for those

Why spend those hours you're going to spend
thinking about how it will end?

it'd be good if we could save those thinking hours
and use them at a later date,
so when we're 'the late' we're not really 'the late'
we're spending those hours wisely
adding to the sum total

someone'll say,
you can't do it or it would have been done already.
but what if it has been done already?

where did this come from?

there are aliens among us
the life-giving deathlike
the spike in the reading
and they're breeding.

I look forward to my first encounter

The weekend is like your salary
in that
it doesn't last long enough to do
all that crazy stuff

and look at me
Monday
eyes bleary
still weary from
last week's work.

I didn't think it was
until you opened my eyes
and we soared like the eagles
watching time as it flies
and then we fell
into the volcano
and your heat,
brought me alive
now
I'm sat here in amber,
looking at blue skies
waiting for the moment
that you reopen my eyes

and then
we'll soar like the eagles
like we did once before
until we both surrender
and we ask
of each other more

we both sit and simmer
in the warmth of our summer
and we're both thinking
rather
we should be doing so much more
like soaring as the eagles
as we
did once before

we never thought it was
but it was
always.

It's only when you see who is not there
that you realise, eight hundred people, fifteen hundred and ninety-nine eyes and not one or even two of them are yours.

the one-eyed man was drinking a can and I think it was cider and he was using a straw, you may wonder what for, well, it gets you drunk quicker and cheaper so you can sleep a while longer before the hunger starts again,

and I understand that I hunger for, but not, I think for drink, maybe for social interaction, something more?

Grammarly's ravaging me
savaging these words
*** it
I don't care.

Watching the weather
wondering if I'll go
( to the Soho Village Fete )
and I put that in
just so you'll know

I watch and I wonder
was that distant thunder
or just my stomach
rumbling?

No parameters
perimeters
or old ladies
calling us
young whippersnappers

and everything
although we didn't know it
was out to trap us

if anyone out there gets old
let me know and I'll try
to catch up with you.

It seems like
everything's a plot twist
and we'll never really know
anything
because they murdered the
author.

Woke up to a Winter view
that'd be nothing new
if it was Winter
but
it's July
the Summer season,
so
can you tell me the reason why
the sun ******* to leave the sky
grey?

and I'm looking
thinking
what's the game here.

the day's going to drag
it's already lasted for more
than a year

and it's only five of the clock

They talk of the
next generation
but
there isn't one
we are
and were
the last one
and when we're gone
everything's gone,

oh
bring me Dystopia
let me
make love to her
let her
bring tears to my eyes.

They
and them
the new world men,
pilgrims
on a pilgrimage
the ones that Bunyan
paid homage to,

didn't go as planned
did it?

they should have stayed
voyaged on for several more days
and
bypassed the Americas.

I'm not ready yet
but when was I ever?

here goes,
not poetry
not prose
*** knows
what this is,

if the time was never right
and the light was always dimming
we were there on the banks
of the river skimming stones

now those young friends have all gone
disappeared into the maelstrom
and I am left here all alone
with my memories.

She's the shoulder I cry on
and I know she understands me
she holds me up and dries the tears
from the boy I used to be.

If you're honest
we all know that look,
the look that says
**** it
I don't care
and if we're being honest
we know
that we've all been there,

don't wanna share?
and that's your prerogative
I express no
pejorative
I remain neutral,

but if you're being honest
what does that say
about you?

Jeeezuss Henri
( said Frenchly )
we
are all expected to be Supermen
to do it twice a night and then
whenever comes the beckon she calls
I
reckon
it's me that's ******
and
I know that'll get me some haters
but remember
allegories are far nicer than alligators
and oh, oh!
was that a distraction?
see
how easy
it is.

Respect is a key that opens more doors for me
than feathers on a turkey.