I am quite sure that we've all had those dreams
and you may wonder, what dreams?
well
if you forgot them they weren't all that hot then,
were they?

It's been too long,
we
should have talked
we
could have walked
in the park
discussed things
but
it's been too long
and time' has carried us on
to a point far beyond
where it all began.

I don't feed you
I don't need to
but I want you
to want me,

love is so,
no!
not that old chestnut,
but it is.

They'll add on a step or two
to justify the things they do
and make it tougher for you
to climb that ladder.

I'm on the escalator
going down,
been up there
seen the view
watched them do
the things they do

leaving unimpressed.

I like it when things are so hot that even the water can't run and comes comatose out of the tap,
that and the taste of Cornish ice cream, but what I don't like are those look-at-me drama queens making awful scenes, the muchtodo ballyhoo about ****** all.

I could have been in Bellevue if I had wanted to and as happy as Larry with the carry on that's always going on in that place,

but here I am
writing crazy ****,
wait
I guess that I'm halfway there.

thinking it was Tuesday when in reality it is Wednesday.
they threw an extra Bank Holiday in and
this is how they make old people confused.

I, however, am not confused
and that's because
I'm not old
I'm only pretending.

Of course, I'm only dreaming
and when I wake
the joints start screaming,

thank god for paracetamol.

Flawed
you think that you're flawed?
yeah, well
listen up you bonebag
I should get an award for being flawed
a flaming tap on the shoulder with a sword
for being flawed,
but I get fug all
because I don't carry on like a baby about it
I just get on with it,

Being in Bedlam,
that's me.
working with madmen

and you know what they say,
if you can't make a mountain of madmen
you're using the wrong type of beans.

seems fanciful?
well
I've had just about a belly full,

wishing that someone would pull out the plug
wash me away down the drain,

I'd change my name too
yes
that's what I'd do,
but all the same
I'd still miss Napoleon.

Just when you start getting lazy on Monday it turns into a Tuesday, call me crazy, call me a nut, but things like this happen.

he prays
for a week full of Fridays.

Dark?
no light to spare and it's like midnight out there,
someone please wind up the Sun.

There has been no activity
this thing must be dead
all the things that I've written
and hardly one of them
been read,

It could be
I can't see
it might just be me,

or it's only Hello Poetry
and the algorithm

(Adeste Fideles')


Just saying.
God never saved the Queen
perhaps God will save the King,
maybe God's so ******* busy
that
God can't think of everything.

We'll not be going to the cemetery
to watch them bury
Her Majesty
no,
we
will not
because
Royalty's
not for the peasantry,

whether they're
dead or alive.

Voice croaky?
kissed any frogs lately?
She says,
only you.

Sirens wail
can you hear them?
the cops are out
and chasing bad men,
but
we're safe in here
killing the beer
waiting for the
Russians to arrive.

If you can't remember what you used to be like you're old enough
now to choose what you want to be like and if you like this, press like for more useful information,
alternatively
you can be what you see in the mirror,
forever.

Saturday and it's a chilly beginning
the Cheshire cat is shivering,
grinning is reserved for the good times,

I'm reading the life and crimes of
Mother Theresa,
plenty of life in it
not a single crime,
what a waste of my time.

Daylight's kicking in and
I'm getting up,
but
not up to no good
because that would never do,

my inner voice says,
if it ain't me being saintly
it must be someone else.

That was not the sound of distant drums
it was the four horsemen
clippety flamin' clop
and
they're getting nearer

how do you make them stop

and before you say it,
No,
Woah
does not work.

Friday, at last,
cast off the cares of the week
dress up, go out and
look chic,
be sleek
forget the drums.

Yes,
Friday
and I have to say that so far it's looking very good, of course at this time of the day 'so far' isn't very far at all, the night lingers a bit longer now than it did a month ago and as a result, Friday has farther to go to get here.

And it's a long weekend which is always a friend of mine.

Nothing planned though,
just going to take things easy
watch a show,
let my get up and go
take it
nice and slow
and save pennies for my thoughts.

When your mind is numb and
you're running out of things to run through,
do you ever stop to think
that a blink
is just
a reset
for the brain.

get with the program or ship out.

Thursday is here,
seems to me that Wednesday
took a long walk off a short pier.

It could almost be
appealing to me
but he won't go overboard with
the jubilation
not until he reaches his destination
which is Friday at three and then
he being me might crack open a smile.

There are chips of wood on the floor
I see what I sawed and that was a board.

Wiley Coyote
sent a note to me,
it read
beware of ACME,
it ****** me

cartoons and aren't we all?

I wouldn't mind a bit of snow,
oh please,
not the stuff you shove up your nose,
I mean the stuff that goes under your skis.

Someone sees something in everything
but some things to someone are everything.

It's nearly Winter and now it's as warm as toast
one goes out in the morning dressed like an Eskimo
and comes home in the evening melting like a baked Alaska.

Never knowing what to wear wears me out when I'm out in the wrong outfit but when I stay in I don the smoking jacket with a packet of fig newtons in the pocket, fat or thin, out or in, it's all about the weather in the end.

It's raining and it's Wednesday
so I guess that I'm awake.

there's not a lot to say when it's Wednesday
but there's always lots to do,

some do not do lots
some do ****** all.

I was going to have a rant
and call things as they are
but decided to be nice instead

a midweek misery?
not me,
already
there are pots of them
men with nothing on their minds
except to find faults with everything.

Still raining but my heart's in the right place
I'm in gear and ready to release the brakes
and face the day.

might take an umbrella.

If your heart skips a beat and you're still stood on your feet
quit with the bellyachin'
at least someone's taking time out to check you out while all you can think about is your medical condition,
jeez
get with the program.

when she's had a decent gander and she wants you to take a wander with her up the garden path
and you have to laugh?

what a ***** pillock you must be,

a singularity among the gender
when she wants to bend your fender
and you think that might be a euphemism
but
you're just a broken down old wreck.

I think I think
but sometimes
She says,
'you don't think'

who's right and
are they only right
sometimes?

Monday is good for you
it's like a tonic that runs through you
a bit like Alka Seltzer,
but I'm
glad that it's done and left
me a little time for some fun
before Tuesday breaks the spell.

Apparently
Andy Pandy's coming to play
or was that years ago and not today?

time rushes through me
and I hope Tuesday
does the same.

Silence, and it's again with the eerie,
if you're
like me and getting weary of the eerie
what you need to do is scream loud enough
to wake the dead,

that being said
prepare yourself for the zombie apocalypse.

I was never really certain
but I'm sure deep down inside
there was a sense of some belonging
to a God in whom I could confide
and
I waited all my life to find
but when the time came She found me
I was never really certain
but now I'm as certain as can be
that
She is the one
that makes it all worthwhile,
She is the one
that makes it possible for me
to go on and we go on and on
until
the end.

We wonder how the time was spent
and yet
it was we that spent it all.

The robust turn old
and trust in God
is not enough
to get your act together

can't find your shoes, lost your teeth and
who the hell is Heath Ledger?
you got
to dredge your memory to
remember how to make a cup of tea

oh, ****** me is that the time?
because now all is past
and
the flags at half mast

I'm holding tight to the sweep hand,
the second hand
the big hand and the little hand
but
time still moves on

That's another fine mess, said Oliver,
Stanley never heard because he was
somewhere up the Limpopo.

that's the thing with explorers
they're always off somewhere exploring

Oliver's at home composing
a letter to his friend far away.

It's only forty eight paces to your place
from my garden gate to your door,
and
you sit there and wonder about me
and think what the **** is he waiting for.

those forty eight paces could be forty eight years
and I cannot take them until I've conquered my fears
I wonder if you'll want to wait.

when you think that someone is giving you the eye
but then you realise it's just the radio on the blink,

You watch me drown as I sink into the sea
and you're all with your iPhones and Samsungs
taking pictures of me,

suddenly I'm a star but it didn't get me too far
but it got me in deep
and at twenty-three fathoms
I finally sleep,

in these green dreams, I'm trending,
#hashtag his world is just ending,
somebody send in the lifeguards.

and what will we do now,
now that she's gone?
we'll go on said, John,
because continuity is who we are,

but
he thinks to himself
how brief those years.

Now that it's here
Friday doesn't feel so important
there is
not such an urgent need to get away.

Sadly
Her most Royal Majesty has died,
and
I'm guessing because she was old,

'and if old becomes a memory, she becomes one too'

My batteries need recharging
I'm wearing a bit thin
feels like I'm trying to thread a needle
but can't get the cotton in

perhaps I need a service
maybe a tune-up might do the trick
because this bodywork is knackered
and the engine's really sick.

never mind the butter
I can't believe it's not Friday,

Spreading myself so thin
you can almost see through me,

this week it has been hide and seek
as I searched for that thing called
positivity,
but all I found was a lot more ground
to cover.

Within these constant streams of thought
I still manage to paddle my boat which is surely
a feat of endurance worthy of Hyadal.

don't know who he is?
Google him,
I'm not here as a public information service
I am just trying to survive.

There's always an agenda
reasons behind the smile
they always want you to shift up a gear
and go the extra mile
well,
I've gone the extra mile and back
a waste of flamin' time

and
time consumes us with its flames
licks our faces
calls our names
ticks us off in the here and now
moves us on to the there and then
where the clock strikes done
when we will be.

It's Wednesday
and someone sings a song
although it could still be Tuesday
and yours truly might be wrong.

If I can only make it through
to an hour after two,
(which is three but three didn't rhyme)

no plans to celebrate yet
but there are some in the pipeline,
and no,
not the gas one because we all know
that's gone up the Swanee or the Dnieper
whichever is nearer..

The nights are drawing in
and leaving me dangling
strangling my dreams
of a longer summer

wanting it all to last forever
would be, I suppose, greedy,
but
we all need something
in whatever measure,

I need more time and
more feed for my imagination

I expect that in the afterlife
no one will need,
so I might as well need lots
while I'm still here

The dial is turning
but I can't seem to tune in
and there's not much room
to manoeuvre,

Tuesday?
yeah
they say it's a new day
but it
feels like some new way
for them to con us.

I can't wait for the next life,
said the cat on his eighth life
not knowing it would be its
last life,

everything is about hope
that's how we cope
until Friday
and then all bets are off.

Monday
drops in through the letterbox
I put on a pair of odd socks
while thinking about the weekend
and how it wasn't long enough,

the bedroom clock's reading four?

what the *** is a clock reading for?

blip
blip

only a brain slip
back into gear.

we're past the halfway mark
it's getting darker earlier
and lighter later,

this year
unlike the weekend
has lasted long enough.

Realisations.

coffee doesn't work until it's topped up
I can't work unless I'm propped up with
several cups of coffee that are topped up
and
the weekends are never ever long enough.

Even as the dice are rolling
they'll take your belongings
after kicking your door in
and there's not much point
in calling the law in
because they'll cart you off to
the joint.

This is not the time to rhyme in
when the ship we're in is sinking
when
half the country is coked up
and the other half are drinking,

no!
definitely not the time to rhyme in.

The River

we're floating down Niagara
the barrel's sprung a leak and
the falls are right in front of us,

Moses,
save me from this dreadful fate
turn back the tide, it's not too late
he says,
take a pill, drink your fill
and then I wake up in a state,

just
another ******' dream.

well
it's Sunday
which should really be a rest day,
but the wicked get no rest.

Even the Summer
leaves
as trees draw in a breath
from the Autumnal breeze

and Winter
sharpens its claws

the wary stay indoors

lighting candles
saying mass
praying for Spring.

Coventry's not far enough for me.
I would
set them adrift in a boat on an
endless sea.

let them spout off at seagulls
pull salt from their skins
eat wholesome K-rations
from world war two tins.

If it was any earlier it'd be yesterday and I'd be a day younger but it's not because it's now and it's Saturday,

I still get messages from the gulag on the crystal set,
everyone is trying to break free except for me
I'm just trying to break bread for my repast.

I should be at the top of the make it ******' stop list
but as usual
they have forgotten me until they want to call on me,
then they remember me.

I can't go out and it's Friday night
worked all week and I feel like *****,
going to take a pill or a bottle of ***
get myself kaylied and wait for the
Kingdom to come

we know that Jesus saves
but I hope he doesn't drink.

everything is so ****** endless
except for the bottle, we see our dreams in.

I'm tiring but still tied into the brickwork

if you're ready
press send.
let the weekend begin
and the week of work end.