I'm just a little apostrophe
So won't you please be nice to me
Use me when there's a letter missed out
Or when it's possession you're talking about
But when you write plurals just leave me out!

Be here by this date you say
I get there late , by a month less a day

So, you meant April, the fifth day
To me it says fourth of May

My friends and I are sitting in this bombed out house
Our rifles rest against the wall
No lamp is lit
As daylight fades the little window frames the moon
We smoke, we read, we write a letter home
We don't dwell on horrors past
Nor on what is yet to come

                                                I won't let my guts gush out
                                                Into foreign mud
                                                Nor die in no man's land alone
                                                I want to make it back to you
                                                I want to make it home

We're winning now, they're on the run
Supplies cut off, they're desperate
They've suffered even more than us
But we have to keep the pressure up
One thing I've learned while I've been here
Don't underestimate the ***

                                                     I've been here such a long time now
                                                     Seen so many good men die
                                                     Killed a good few too
                                                     I know that danger still surrounds us
                                                     Even now I might not make it through

I just need to carry on
Hold on to my life
You know that when I make it back to you
Soon we will be man and wife

                                                      Jack

Another masterpiece born
Want to hear it?
Blank face, yawns

As my wife predicted
This is getting
A bit addictive

For those who want to learn
There are many teachers

Oh for a life of mirth, without an increasing girth!

Hello poetry friends, great lexicon
Facebook friends, need English lesson

Obama fulfills his destiny
  as the president born
        to campaign.

Not too much on offer
Empty as the word coffer

Do not send me Easter cards
Christmas is enough thanks

Is it cheating
To give ten worders
Very long titles ?

I will be your storyteller
Just stay here with me
We can show each other
Things we never would have believed

I will keep you company
At the end of every day
I will lull you off to sleep
If you let me stay

I will build a house
Made from hearts of oak
I will warm your water up
When you want a soak

I will write you poems
About the moon, the stars, the clouds, the sky
I will stay with you
Until the day I die

Because you're the one who's good to have around
You're the one I'm glad I found
I may not say I love you all the time
But I do,
My special valentine

A little story (true) from a hundred years (almost), passed on to me by word of mouth by someone whose identity my memory has lost.

A man and wife lived in the house which I owned much later. He was called away to war and for four whole years he disappeared, she didn't hear a word.

I guess he was no writer.

He found himself released, no longer mired in foreign soil. War was won, the only thing to be done was go home once more.

He sent a telegram from the port, I'm coming home real soon. But he arrived before the post, and surprised his wife, who probably said something like,

Why my dear, did you not write?

Santa brought no toys so...
... I play with words instead



She passed her driving test
on Christmas eve....
               ...No-L celebrations!

There was a young man from Zagreb
Whose pencil ran out of lead
He went to the quack
Whose answer to that
Was use a biro instead

There was a vicar from the Tyne
Who put all his sermons online
A woman wrote please,
I'm weak at the knees
Here's my address, what's thine?

The Prime Minister went for a walk
Invited a woman to talk
She said  "If you want a bang you can jolly well scram"
He said  Do you know who I am?"

the elephant in the room....  
...you need to lose weight


unrealistically optimistic
focuses on goals
ignores pitfalls
stumbles
astonished
fails


we could argue
we could fight
but not tonight
josephine


Now how about
some Leonard Cohen
from memory
happy christmas

If a camel challenges you to a drinking contest just say no thank you.

I met a young camel from Tralee
Who could down fifty pints easily
He never got drunk
It went to his ****
And he never went for a wee

I won't be goin back there, 'tis a near certainty, you can be sure o' dat now.

Whatever you want to talk about you
can be sure she will immediately be in
the zone. Unconventional in lifestyle,
she lives alone without modern comforts.
She seems to hitch-hike through life,
having at times ridden with extraordinary
wealth and good fortune. At others, loneliness
and poverty have been her wearisome
companions. A fatalist, she will note your
material wishes, and promise that when
luck shines on her again, they will be yours.
Don't try to change her, you won't get far.
Generous to a fault, when she has money
it slips through her fingers like a croupier
dealing cards. Once she is your friend
rest assured she will remain so for life.

We go way back
To bits of boys

We shook hands
He crushed his can
So I crushed mine

We walked
We biked just like we used to
He's done well, we both have
In our different ways

Some things we didn't need to say
It was there
Funny slightly scary he remembers
Stuff I had forgot

Oh my god
He knows me better than
I know myself

Big wide gaps we strode across
Filled them up in seconds flat

Left me feeling good
There's no substitute
For a friend like that

-After Diana-                                              
The paparrazi are nobody's friend            
It all seems such a pity
He shouldn't have trained his big long lens
On her poor little Bristol Cities

-After Maggie-
When the daisies push up with Maggie beneath
To mark her grave will be taking a chance
For some may come to lay a wreath
But others will come to dance

-After the war-
The Argentine girl was all smiles
All went well between us
I didn't mention the Falkland Isles
And she didn't say Las Malvinas

All through school they were peers
Their friendship lasted for years
They knew that they must
Not give way to lust
For then it would end in tears

Their vows they made, he kissed her
He couldn't now resist her
Then later on he said so long
I should have married your sister

She said I love you Billy
And asked for something silly
To prove you love me
There's no one above me
Tattoo my name on your *****

There are plenty of fish in the sea
At least there used to be
But now there are not
We've got to stop
And let them recover you see

We fixed your heart, it's all spare parts
Your liver ugh, we threw away
This one's new, the one we grew
It's going in today

Those wobbly wonky worn-out knees
Let's consign them to the past
With these bionic ones you'll see
You'll run twice as fast

Need new eyes? It's no surprise
We have all you need and more
Take your colour and your size
Down to our new store

Your genome's on our database
There's nothing we can't do
So come on down, no time to waste
It's everlasting life, guaranteed for you

It was a summer morning. The man got up, got ready quite quickly. He pulled the door to, and stepped into the street. It was still early, the sunshine was bright, the street like a wasteland.

A small boy was kicking a football against a low wall. As the man approached, the boy kicked it towards him.  The man returned it, the boy returned it again. The man lifted it with his toe, flicked it ten feet in the air. The boy let it bounce and headed it back.
The man trapped it and left it at the boy's feet as he walked by.

'Where you going?'  asked the boy.
'To see my dad.'
'When was your dad born?'  asked the boy.
'Nineteen twenty four.'
The boy lifted his finger to his mouth.
'Ninety, that makes him ninety.'  said the man.
'Better hurry then.'  said the boy.
The man looked at the boy properly for the first time.
And smiled.

Weary already, weary miles to-night
I walked for bed: and so, to get some ease,
I dogged the flying moon with similes.
And like a wisp she doubled on my sight
In ponds; and caught in tree-tops like a kite;
And in a globe of film all liquorish
Swam full-faced like a silly silver fish; -
Last like a bubble shot the welkin's height
Where my road turned, and got behind me, and sent
My wizened shadow craning round at me,
And jeered, ' So, step the measure, - one, two, three! '
And if I faced her, looked innocent.
But just at parting, halfway down a dell,
She kissed me for good-night. So you'll not tell.

My friends and I are sitting in this bombed out house
Our rifles rest against the wall
No lamp is lit
As daylight fades the little window frames the moon
We smoke, we read, we write a letter home
We don't dwell on horrors past
Nor on what is yet to come

                                                I won't let my guts gush out
                                                Into foreign mud
                                                Nor die in no man's land alone
                                                I want to make it back to you
                                                I want to make it home

We're winning now, they're on the run
Supplies cut off, they're desperate
They've suffered even more than us
But we have to keep the pressure up
One thing I've learned while I've been here
Don't underestimate the ***

                                                     I've been here such a long time now
                                                     Seen so many good men die
                                                     Killed a good few too
                                                     I know that danger still surrounds us
                                                     Even now I might not make it through

I just need to carry on
Hold on to my life
You know that when I make it back to you
Soon we will be man and wife

                                                      Jack

Just as the horizon was at it's brightest yellow
Before the light began to really fade
I stood and watched the daily starling show
Staged it seemed just for me

How privileged I felt to see
Our very own murmuration
Circle, tightly in a group
Morph into a jet fighter
Then a fragile bi-plane
Direction changing overhead
I heard their wings a lovely sound
As they circled round

What perfect choreography
To soar and dive, flip and twist
And as they passed a clump of firs
Some filtered down
Dropping as if poured
Each new pass some more

The last few, five or six
Carried on just as fast
Until they too went down

The show was over for another day

When I can no longer see
And the way is dark
You shine a light ahead for me
And beat for me a path

When I feel I'm sinking
You help me rise above
When I want to hate
You show me how to love

You may be real or perhaps
Just inside my mind
But I feel you watching over me
Almost all the time

There was a girl from Dunoon
With thighs like a barrage balloon
When a man did her wrong
Her grip was so strong
He quickly met his doom

Ahhhh

          ----------------------

Don't have a baby with this man
If you do, don't let him push the pram.

Seems so long ago, Nancy     (Leonard Cohen)

It seems so long ago, Nancy was alone
Looking at the Late Late Show through a semi-precious stone
In the House of Honesty her father was on trial
In the House of Mystery there was no one at all
There was no one at all

It seems so long ago, none of us were strong
Nancy wore green stockings and she slept with everyone
She never said she'd wait for us although she was alone
I think she fell in love with us in nineteen sixty-one
Nineteen sixty-one

It seems so long ago, Nancy was alone
A forty-five beside her head, an open telephone
We told her she was beautiful
We told her she was free
But none of us would meet her in the House of Mystery
The House of Mystery

And now you look around you
See her everywhere
Many use her body
Many comb her hair
And in the hollow of the night when you are cold and numb
You hear her talking freely then
She's happy that you've come
She's happy that you've come

I love my work, I love my dogs
I love my wife, I love my life
It's not that I don't want to stay
But I'm looking for adventure
So I have to go away.

I'll never say I'm cold again
Not after being here
The stars will  never shine so bright
The air will never seem so clear.

Not many people witness this
It's not a people place
Where the sun stays up all day and night
And the earth meets outer space.

There's not much food down here,
Just krill and fishy treats
No vegetables will ever grow
And you can't go out to eat.

Some say this  place will drive you mad,
Nothing but ice and snow
Others that it gets to you
Like nowhere else they know.

Now I'm ready, soon I go
To the cold round bottom of the globe.

I will be busy, but there may be times
In those quiet moments that I find
To sit and reminisce
About the other cold round bottom that I miss
The one I left behind.

If you think we're going to fight
And it's your intention, we just might.
But it's not what I would like to do
That's why I send this note to you.

Your home's a special place to be
Your refuge from the world, your sanctuary
So please don't fret or get upset
Your privacy we will respect.

As we reflect on our situation
We hope that this communication
Will ease the tension in the air
And show we understand and care.

Feel in my words a soothing balm
Let all your thoughts be smooth and calm
Quell those fears, unknit that furrowed brow
I'm sure we will be friends somehow.

I've been sifting through
the scrawls and scribbles
written on some whim

passed by, not followed up
like lights that shine too dim

anyone can write a poem
it seems innate somehow
anyone can write a poem
except for me right now

What did I do with my glasses?
I had them a minute ago
They’re always disappearing
I don’t know where they go

My eyes don’t focus without them
Now that me youth has gone
One of the things I’ve learned is
You don’t stay young very long

I waste so much time just searching
Can anyone tell me where?
I could be being useful
Or having a kip in the chair

I asked my wife to help me
With a roll of her eyes she said
Try where your hair used to be dear
They’re on the top of your head

We called our maths master *** happy Chappie,  Mr Chapman stank to high heaven like an ash tray and smoked like a chimney even while taking class.

We called the English teacher Jesus because he was young, bearded and wore a white suit. One of the lads flicked ink all down his back one day without him noticing as he walked up and down between the desks.

Another English teacher took it on himself to teach *** education. He advised us not to ******* the night before an exam. He doubled up as a career adviser and told everyone to go into banking or insurance.

The history master liked to nod off in lessons when he was supposed to be teaching us and we had to stay completely silent. If anyone made a noise he would yell at us, and he would sometimes hit us with a tennis shoe with a golf ball jammed in it.  He wrote Stoke City for the cup in chalk mirror writing on the sole so that it would come out on our backsides when he whacked us.

The first headmaster was nice, we liked him, he was human. But then *** took over. He tightened up the rules about school uniform, no coloured shirts, things like that, but wore luminous green socks himself, the silly *******. He gave me the slipper for sciving off an afternoon once, I hated him. I think if I'd had a gun I might have shot him.  Someone said they think he's dead now, and I thought good, I hope he died in agony ha ha.

Then there was Mr Eaton, another English master. He was one of those truly inspiring teachers whose enthusiasm for his subject was infectious.
On the day he introduced us to Chaucer's  'The Prologue '  he gave us the text and proceeded to recite from memory the whole thing.  I never forgot that.  

It was a mixed experience, Grammar School in the 1970's.

You always had to me a look exotic
Though none could be more native
Nestled in our landscape here
Since ice melt these ten thousand year

No enemies, or so we thought
Warming, useful, strong yet supple
Ubiquitous, vigorous, unstoppable
What could harm you now?

Windy days you sway and clash
Skeletal click-clack in the canopy
But now it seems the common Ash
Must suffer life's fragility

Against this invading menace
You find you have no defence
The assassin fungus
chalara fraxinea

The three toed sloth
Rhymes with goth
Or is it oath

Moves slowly

Sometimes algae grows on his head
Joni Mitchell didn't mean him
when she said

Wild things run fast
Randy, three toed sloth,
he'd come last

Once a week he climbs down from his tree
And that's to have a poo
and ***

Now even sloths get amorous
But *** is tricky up a tree
He moves too quick, he's not used to it
And hits the ground involuntarily

Randy broke his arm
Some people fixed it
with titanium

So he can resume his slothful days
But he's more careful now
in his loving ways

Did you see that Usain Bolt
The surname sure fits there
Yeah, not bad thinks Dusty dog
But can he catch a hare?

That long jump champ, well done mate
You're better than the rest
But any Ozzie joey
Would hardly be impressed

Those divers, back flips in the water
Splashing two by two
Any dolphin anywhere
Could make you look like fools

So it is with everything
Try as hard  we might
Mind, I've not seen anything
Go quite as quick by bike

The atom he wanted to split
But didn't quite manage it
So he changed his tack
And instead of that
Wrote a limerick

Jim and Jill on market day
Watch a gret ol' bull hev his way

"Do you look at that now Jim,
Why can't you be more like him?"

"Well," said Jim, "there's a difference now-
He don't stick to the same old cow."

The village pump is where she was stationed
Her purpose in life, to glean information
Every morsel of 'news' she'd greedily savour
Though reluctant to empty her head, to fill up her neighbour's

That mucky young *****'s expecting you'll find
I'm certain I know who did it this time
He bought a bike, the crafty young fella
And no good came on it Doris I tell ya

He put one in Fram in the family way
And thas a good fifteen mile away
And if you ask me, he's too fond of his sister
If there's a young'un who's willing round here he'd not miss her

So lock up your daughter do she'll be the next
He'll be snouting round here before long I expect
And look at poor Bob, they say he's frustrated
They reckon his hip bone is half discolated

Same as old ****, see him hick with his stick
All wore up and not sixty as yit
You don't look wholey clever yourself
Doris you really should keep an eye on your health

And Grandma Green has took to her bed
I'll drop by there today, 'cos same as I say
You're a long time dead

Well I should be going, I've said too much already
Cheerio now, and do you goo steady

Barefoot -
Atavistic !

Hello martin, how's the back?
Lie down here, left side, crack!

Relax the shoulders now, don't hunch
On your tummy then, and ... crunch

Breathe out, breathe in, and let it go
Click clack twang, you should feel better so

Turn around, just one more tweek
To keep you going, not perfection's what we seek

Full movement in your neck you lack
I see the problem, one more snap

My eyes they water through my smile
That's me sorted for a while

A poem with an awkward rhyme
Is like a bell, with an off-key chime
The craftsmanship has gone all wrong
Like a perfume, with a hint of pong
Of course our poems don't have to rhyme
But I like it better

There it lay
Down by the kerb
A scrap of paper
Covered in words

A little poem
Thrown away
Without a message
Nothing to say

To write such verse
Is nearly a sin
So I cast it away
This time in a bin

Comes round every morning
           No days off
           What a star

See the young one's shining face
Freshly joined the human race
Chubby cheeks and wrinkled ***
Flailing arms and little tum

A life of learning lays ahead
But rest for now your weeny head
What this miracle will be, who knows
With his tiny hands and feet and snotty nose

Stop your mewling now be calm
You're coming to no harm
I'll hold you for a little while
Although your shrieks do cause alarm

Why choose now, oh little one
To exercise those fearsome lungs
And then projectile squirt
Green ***** on my nice clean shirt

I'll hand you back, you look much better
In your mother's arms
I feel I am immune alas
To your supposed charms

Quiet now, would I hold?
If you don't mind I will refrain
If I may be so bold

Left with an odour, a downright smell
I must confess
I don't do babies very well

What relief, they've gone away
Give me a dog any day

No, you can't nest there!
Chatter, swooping, fly around
I must close the doors!