a numb boys body in the end
barely living, couldn't contend
the misfortune he wanted amend
when all is gone can he ascend?

for the air is thick
and the world is sick
a melancholy wall built brick by brick

the boys name is tribulation
consummate by manipulation
everything but a simulation
but he waits for the last invitation

I’m a woman with some attitude--
not one who will dispense a platitude.
Chicken soup won’t give you soul;
from me, it’ll get you an eye roll.
You try to mask your disapproving looks
with sanctimonious advice from large print books:
“Embrace the moment” “Be grateful” and “Breathe”
“Pray” “See only the good” “Turn the other cheek”
“Accept others’ flaws” “Don’t criticize”--
I have some advice that’s a bit more wise:
“Don’t put up with *******” “Embrace your outrage."
While you were living in the “present,” history turned the page.
God is Dead, you’ve got to take charge;
you’ve been scammed by crooks in suits, who live large.
People aren’t so good; sometimes they’re ****.
They’ve pulled the rug out from under where you sit.
Don’t accept others’ flaws; tell them to go to hell.
If you’re really mad, don’t breathe, just yell.
Anger is good, it’s there for a reason.
You’re just a phony, with your people pleasin’.
Get off your **** and take some action--
stick it to the jerks, join the radical faction.
Accommodating ******* just brings on more--
just wait, and you’ll see what’s next in store.

I’m a hard-hearted woman;
I’ve seen too much of life.
I’ve seen the conflict, I’ve seen the strife.
I’ve seen the kindergarten
with its bombed-out walls.
And I know that your tax dollars
paid for it all.
Killing people in their homes,
in their hospitals, and schools,
was outlawed by the world
after World War II.
Do you need to question why
it breaks all the rules?
Putting people into camps,
and bulldozing where they lived--
so you can steal their land--
is a crime I can’t forgive.
There has to be one Law
for us all, on this planet.
There is no such thing as justice
if everyone can’t have it.
Your people aren’t special,
and no, they’re not “Chosen.”
They’re grandiose fanatics,
shooting, bombing and
bulldozing.

It only looks like we mean but looks are?
and then I get stuck because what is a look
and what does it mean?

Art Deco does things to me,

twentieth century?
mention me to
Clarice  

I can't come to terms with germs
remember ' Monk?'
sunk without a trace
his final case
was himself.

"It's a jungle out there"

Wednesday brings a ray of sun
in the weak light
we pray
for Friday to come

I hate 5am
nothing stirs
not me
not the spoon in the tea
nothing
but
it's not 5am for long

that's what looks are
I mean
maybe.

The 5:55 never came
what the hell happend
to that underground train?

We're just commuters
they boot us
from pillar to post
and the least I expect is
the most that they give.

The cost is
my time lost

no explanation given
TFL have driven me
to the point of
no return

but not on the 5:55.

The night becomes blind by
what plays on in my mind
I
link up to the lights that react
pupils contract
and the deal has been done.

In the arena and you should
have seen her
I did and wish I had more,

she beat me
fair and square
I was there and
that's a fact.

The day has a way
of
distorting the truth.
and the shadows are ruthless,
relentless.
which means less to her
than to me.

Out on the balcony
she
waves to me
and smiles.

One hundred and one
mahjong tiles and
I cannot find a
match.

would you like an interface
at your place?
just in case
say yes when
in doubt.

Out of the launch pad and into
the bad lad or
is that the frying pan and fire?
try a
little harder

me and the yardie
got this thing
going on
see
like the
song
going on.
we sing along.

it will all be
grist to the mill
until his will be done.

but if thine is the Kingdom
where is the bell
and who do we ring then
to get in?

(20 minute poetry)

The first service is expected if you expect such things at 06:34,
is this what Thursday is?
more
to the point
do we expect it to be?

so now I'm on the jubilee line
having what you might call a
waste of some time.

Not overly fond of Bond Street, (too much bling)
but the tube'll bring me to there
where I will wait in the frost of this cold Thursday air and catch a bus,

going or getting to work is a lot of work these days
everyone wants more pay
less responsibility
whatever happened to
flexibility?

I'll get there eventually.

In the meantime
on
the jubilee line
watching the scenery.