Love songs were written
in dreams long forgotten
when words were all that
we knew.

Most of them
are ghosts of men
but I'm not one of them
yet,

do I talk to them
every one of them?
you bet.

We'll all end up in a gallery and people will pay to gawk at us, how quaint they used to be they'll say, it must have been great back in the day
and we'll be mummified in glass cases thinking the gawkers are off their faces,

we could be sold and they'd be told, these relics are worth much more than gold, but they'll sell us off cheap and they won't hear a peep from us.

not much to look forward to
but
seemingly better than the current zoo in which we live.

waking with a start,
the hammering of my heart
dreams just fall apart
when you wake up with a start.

Saturday
crawls in through the doorway,
an apology for its lethargy
it
looks like cro-magnon to me
but
maybe that's just me reflecting.

She,
dances in like Cinderella
I watch the show
and I'm allowed to do that
because
I'm her fella.
Enjoy the weekend.

Another crack appears shedding a little more light on the wasted years, it's not a pretty sight, but the urge to look overtakes me and suddenly I'm speeding down some dark deserted byways and triggering some memories that I barely recognise.

What caused the crack?
probably
an earthquake in Manilla
which is still a
lovely place,

an inner voice calls out,
it could have been a
tsunami,
I think
probably
but not likely.

I also think that
life's just a refresher course
for the big adventure
to come.

Naughty naughty
but not at 4:40
the chocolates will stay
in the box.

It's a wine type of evening
a fine time for creme de menthe too,
which do I pick?
can't drink them both
that might make me sick.

Deflating now
waiting for the weekend to kick in
and
still no luck in picking which one
eventually
I decided on wine,
She said, fine,
rose, red or white?
decisions are all that matter,
I opened a bottle of ***.

When you're looking at that car crash but suddenly realise it's the mirror.

That Friday feeling when you open your eyes and the ceiling expands, but like the mirror, it's made of glass and only there for us to smash through it.

Ah! you have
those maps in your head,
I hear the
footsteps of the dead
but
it's Friday and we'll be led
into the same weekend.

The succubi or succubus will come to us
when we're at our weakest
with a promise, a tantalising glimpse,
we now know they're just pimps
for 'old nick'
however
because there's always one of them,
men being men will succumb
can't say what the ladies do.

Being lazy only pays the going rate
but once you get the go in you
there's nothing that you cannot do.

If
motivation's just a magic trick,
it's slick, but nonetheless
it's still a trick,

you have to pick your moments
to facilitate those movements
that you want to make
and
once you've made them
you're
on the way.

Today went well, well, that's if going through hell is going well, not moaning about it and people who know me know that I never complain, never place the blame on anyone's shoulders if I can't carry it myself.

that's all well and good and so it should be,
actually
today did go well, I made the bit up about going through hell because I had to get some more lines in,
,
She said,
you could have taken them off your face, there are plenty
there,
I never replied
just died inside a little.
I made that up too.
that's what I do
sometimes.

Basically
this is a filler
filling in time
writing inside the lines
getting my story straight.
that's what  I do
sometimes.

We all want it to be
'remember when we'
but sadly
the we who were are
no longer there,
there's only me.

I had friends and
I
'remember when we'
but they are no longer here
there is only me.

Now
I watch repeats on the black and white
at the old codgers' retreat and
sometimes I sit up all night when I
can't sleep because I can hear them calling
every time that I fall into bed,

but it's only me and the thoughts that
grow old in my head.

Wednesday's gone
the clock ticks on
and on and it gets
on my nerves.
I
can't add more sand to the hourglass
sometimes I feel so powerless,

****, eh?
listen
with one touch of my finger
I turned on the kettle,
sometimes life is so good.

tries to hold on
but
ok
time to
unscramble,
make coffee and such
get back in touch
with my inner child.

That thing when the sun ricochets off your forehead and you feel like you're dead on your feet
and the heat's turned your skin into a thin layer of burnt because you never learnt about UVB and the Calamine lotion's just a one second notion because you didn't pack it,
it's time to jack it in
go back home
make a cup of tea
and google
UVB.

Everything becomes a memory
things that made us laugh a lot
things that made us cry a lot
and things we'd rather not
remember.

The day
devoid of colour
only grey
to remind me
that if it stays this way
I'm off to warmer climes
and
if I had a penny for all the times
I've said that
I could buy an umbrella.

We grow up
and slow down,

what's that all
about?

Dreams

We sleep
to keep
our secrets
awake.

We sleep
to keep
our secrets
awake.

Jeez it was brass monkeys out there this morning
can't understand why I bothered going in,

work should be a sub-routine that throws out
an error when the weather is crap.

But it's over for now and
I am home safe and warm,
tomorrow I'll put on my thermals
to keep my fundamentals
comfortable too.
Now
it's a coffee;
too early for the hard stuff
or maybe
a tot of that bard stuff
I keep hearing about.

De-commissioned
re-commissioned,
Cost?
classified.

lies more lies,
buy PPE from me
I have friends in
high places.

we've been done
by that shady crew
and now there's a
hullabaloo,

there should be a hanging
and not in the Tate.

There's an awful amount of investigations going on, allegations being made, and denial is in the offing and that's why I am going to stop in,
never trust a politician and that's a rule I follow, you can follow it too, but I wouldn't expect you to unless you really wanted to, the problem arises when the politicians want to follow you.

we call that stalking.

A bowl of chicken soup and two chickens left in the coup,
goodie, eggs for breakfast too.

back to the basics for me
hot broth or bone soup for tea,
saving the goose for my wishlist along
with some other things I've missed,
it's a short list.

I think one eats less when one gets old
because
the stomach can't hold as much
although a bottle of ***
fits in,

Tudor.
eeh ba gum
oops
Lancashire filters out now and then,
they'll tell you that saying is from Yorkshire
but we all know who won that war

In the hierarchy of bad things
Monday is almost at the bottom
that's why I feel down in the dumps
every time Monday jumps out at me.

I survived it again,
praise be
and if praise be could make it Friday
I'd praise She today,

Popeye popped up
to say
I'll gladly pay for the hamburger tomorrow.

You know it's Monday when it starts raining halfway through your shower and you wonder why you're bothered because you're going to get wet anyway, any day other than a Monday and it wouldn't mean 'jack', but this is an omen or leastways a sign that Spring's on the way and it's going to be fine.

I'm motivated now
don't know how
perhaps it was something in my dream
maybe it was something in the vaccine,

Monday holds no terrors for me
work at seven
finish at three
home at four,

hmm those three numbers
I should use them in the lottery
they might win a *** for me
they might not.

You don't even see me
although I'm right in your face
your gaze is so far away
you're in some other place
so
what can I be
if I can't be the only one
what do I do
when there's no chance of this
going on,

you don't even see me
your look's far away
another world waits for you
and all I do is stay
alone with the thoughts
of things that could never be

you don't even see me
you don't look my way
and I'm here alone
only thoughts that surround me

you
don't even see me.

Even at sixty-six, there is still that feeling of being at one,
I mean,
look at Joe Ninety
he doesn't and never will look any older and so what if he is a cartoon character
we all have our crosses to bear.

Tha knows
if thee dain't ask
thee wain't be getting it.

Old Lancashire
is the hard A in water
the things that caught you
when growing up
and some things
you never grow out of.

I am outside the priory,
inside
Quasimodo's getting lively
and
the bells sound quite lovely.

I must be dreaming.

Still here
still in gear
just waiting to double de-clutch.

No powered assistance for me
and nothing untoward that I can see
but
I know that the future is heading for me
so
I just have to keep my eyes open.

Chimneys
that pump up carcinogens
which rain down on the citizens
who all inhale them in again,
a never-ending cycle.

At the beginning when the end
has already begun
we must learn to fend for ourselves.

life is
a bed of roses for some
a bed of nails for the most

and as we persevere
we endeavour to do better,

is that a mantra
or a ray
of hope?

Even the animals are 'woke' now and offended when locked in a cage, wow!
they want to walk among the tourists
mingle with the sightseers
and for the lions,
it's like meat on the bone and maybe a couple of beers
to wash it down,

the penguins are cruising and p p p picking up penguins,
polar bears are refusing to sit on cool mints and any hints you may have had about monkeys acting awfully bad
were right,

the vultures have gone vegan and they're all sitting out in the garden playing canasta with the gnu which is news because perhaps it should be gnus,

yes, 'woke' is coming of age and we're doing away with the cage.

That moment when you wake up to
the 'shipping forecast' and you start to grin
because you're still tucked up in
bed, but
the bed can be a stormy place too

Saturday!
I don't need telling twice
even if it was spoken in ''double dutch'
I'd understand that it was a me and my day,
sometimes it's
a me oh my day
but we'll not talk about that.

Well.
that's it then
bed before ten
and then up again.
no surprises when
you get old.

I have been naked in front of you
and you've seen what you've seen
if you wanted to,
and the world digests a bit more space
as it looks and it laughs at the look on your face.

It took its time to get here and I feared for a while it would not, groundless of course because it arrived quite smartly as if to say, should we begin and begin we will when the toil of this day has been washed from me,

time for a tea?
time's being fun,
I said,
pour me a ***
and time did,

but its hands are always
on the move
wearing another groove
into the grooves of so many
starts.

When the gas dropped out of the boiler
leaving my living space a whole lot colder,
I got hot and bothered.

Friday and now it's easy to chill and
getting easier the colder it gets,

they'll come to fix it eventually
I mean
this isn't the eighteenth century,
but it feels like the ice age to me.

one degree above and
as my blood turns back into liquid
which is something I usually stick with
my body starts moving again.

She speaks of her heartbreak
he's having his tea break
talking of how Arsenal won.

Oh yes,
he's on the ball.

She falls into despair
but
it was always waiting for her,

the shy one
sticking with the wrong one
how wrong was that?
she knows now.

What if every bad decision that crept up on you in madness made you act upon the moment until you stopped to wonder was this all worthwhile,
so
there are pros and cons
see, you
stop now and consider
the likely outcome of each
action
which is better than throwing
caution to the wind.

I see a black cat on the border
I tip some salt over my shoulder,
it doesn't do to tempt a superstition.

I think that I've grown up now,
**** knows how
but I really think I have.

When it's over
it all goes under!

okay
got that?
good.

although to be honest
over and under
sounds more like a
cricketing term
than a recipe for sorrow.

I'm gearing up
but not for cricket,
jeez
gotta go work
again!
and rain's forecast.

She says,
it keeps you out of mischief
ha
I'm so out of mischief
I'm almost a saint.

When spiders on the floor
sound like an army on the march,
but
in the mausoleum, no one hears the
echoes bounce from mildewed walls from
rust that flakes off iron bars

that splendour of the final resting place
all gone
no light shines
and there's a ghost of yesteryear
wondering what he's doing here
and thinking,
this is just like living.

They told you that the twenties were roaring when you were thirty in the sixties and you thought that you'd missed out, now you're ninety in the twenties wondering what all the fuss was about.

times a funny ******
in the sixties when you were thirty
you were a good looker
and now in the twenties when you're ninety
you no longer laugh at time

but it's still a funny ******.

Down there in the wood
where
the piggy-wig once stood,
stands now
a hamburger joint.

Thinking it was the dawn cracking but it was my bones uncurling after sleep and now I'm set at least for the day, coffee on the way, trousers freshly pressed, I may even get dressed, but I could easily nod off again and it's only Wednesday.

..and there are some who know where they're going to
and some others who only think they do
which one are you,
do you really know where you're going to
or only think you do?

There are a few flakes of light along the way and sometimes
we get a 'fair shake'
at other times we have to make the best of it,

what helps me a bit
is that I know
I am going somewhere
and for now
that's good enough.

Get it into your head,
it'll never last,
and that is what they said,

but so far, (touch wood), so good
and yet I always count my chickens when foxes are on the sly and
I'm told,
never count your chickens, and I have to wonder why.

When you want to go
time moves ever so slow
but when you don't want to go
time's like, Formula 1 and it
races along at breakneck speed.

I fancy
staying in bed
but
I know that I won't,

I also fancy,
but that's another story,

time for coffee.

I caught a fish
but I was waiting to catch a bus,
peculiar,
but dreams play stranger games than that.

Way to go!
unless you don't know the way
ah
but the way is the light
unless it is night and
then you couldn't know.

there's usually an unless
and
sometimes they're useless
mostly though they're useful.

Here's a thought,
they say
that the universe is expanding,
but
maybe it's just getting fat on those
poor souls who pass beyond.
Random?
well,
what isn't these days?
Sleep
eyes down
bingo for old folk.

It was
put into a folder
and as I get older
the folder gets fuller,

but what can I do?
it's impossible not to
save those delicious
memories.