Never cry, Never cry,  bottle it all in.
If you die before you cry you win!

Be more dog.... and she was..... til the very end
An unplanned sleep...... in a heap...... Goodbye dear friend

He couldn't just use tracing paper to trace his father

I don't want to seem like a barbecue **** but please won't you turn that meat!
If it wasn't bad enough you put it on early that chicken just won't stand the heat
Your confounding the issue by loading on bangers for the dripping fat's sure to ignite
With those flames getting higher and your steaks all on fire, you know you're not doing it right
Black on the outside and pink in the middle, is not how you're supposed to do chicken
And even revamped your bathroom's too cramped, for all of your guests to be sick in
"It's time" you declare, as you pull up a chair "is anyone ready for grub!?"
But with no contemplation, I'll ditch this cremation, I'm ******* off back down the pub!

"Take my hand as planned" she said
Leaning from the precipice with outstretched arm
"But what if I slip your grip" I said
Fearing my heavy bones could pull us both to harm
"I won't let go!" she cried
"I know, I know!" I replied
"It's what I fear the most"

"Please just go on without me, you surely know the way"
But she didn't even answer and I knew my love would stay

It was all or nothing
Both free or dashed upon the rocks as one
But no more suffering

Again her hand dropped down above me
"Come on we'll soon be safe"
So I placed my hand in hers and took that leap of faith

There's a cat on my street called Clive
Everyone loves that cat

He's slinky and sleek and so dignified
He wonders the street like the world's on his side
He simply won't fear the snarliest hounds, walking the wall as they jump by his feet
He simply won't carry any extra pounds, even after eating at every house on the street
He has always caught himself a bird
or a lizard
or sometimes a rat
He's so smug it's just absurd
And he'll break into a purr at the drop of a hat
He'll circle your legs and paw at your feet
and jump on your lap wherever you're sat

But I think he's a ****

Cos I ******* hate cats!

Life should be simple, if not, you're doing it wrong

When I was a boy and still wasn't sure that there wasn't a God
I attended a nice catholic primary school
It was there we used to sing:

Love is like a magic penny
hold it tight and you won't have any
lend it spend it you'll have so many
they'll roll all over the floor

Now maybe that was the case
But people today have changed
Giving out love like it was free
Maybe love is a magic penny
But due to inflation
Love has lost its value

Love being thrown around carelessly
Love unattended in the centre console of their car
Love slipping out your pocket and down the side of the sofa
Love rolling by on the road and you don't even give it a second glance

For what is love now to those dead of heart but unnecessarily old fashioned?

Dropped toast span hitting floor
Butter on carpet, sod's law

I'm such a devil, terrible rebel, eleven words on a Thursday!

Along time ago in the land of the Elves
With the Pixies, Gnomes and Sprites
Lived Millicent Mary, a belly button fairy
Adorned in her tutu and tights

Now poor little Millicent
Super cute and innocent
Hadn't been a fluffer very long
When trusted by superiors
Which that alone's mysterious
Only got the purchase order wrong!

Whilst ordering the belly fluff
She found the maths a little tough
And set upon her path to sheer disgrace
Before she'd ordered every hue
She started with the colour blue
And accidentally missed the decimal place

Full moons blueish light breaks through the curtains gap illuminating your fake photo smile
I wish I had taken more at times much less contrived, a true smile would be more worthwhile
But I should really count my blessings, for with true class you would never pout
Imagine the horror of gazing upon your beautiful face and only seeing Pete Burns looking out

I used to be a broken man, lost and so confused
But over time I think I've changed
and all because of you
Now I wouldn't say I'm still not lost
or wiser than before
But all my bits are back as one and it's you that I adore

Only the Irish could appoint a Welsh slave their patron

Do you ever think it takes a certain someone?
A certain someone to do a certain thing
But what if I am not that certain someone?
The more I doubt it the more certain I’m not him

What if I am just another faker?
A lone wolf, on the wrong side of the fence
An accidental, slightly mental impostor
Who made you fall in love with my pretense!

Whilst kicking  through the autumn leaves
A little boy runs by
Oops I found a doggy poo
And kicked it in his eye

Twas my very first day at the poetry factory
A man took my name and wouldn't give it back to me

"You make a name for yourself by sweeping up letters
And gradually son, you get better and better"

So nameless and soulless I wandered unsure
Sweeping my words from the factory floor
I'll make one so big,  everyone knows
Apprentice to master of poems and prose

That fat cat spat fat on my mat hat, splat!

I was late for school but it was cool, my chauffeur took the wrap
I even blamed the butler for the absence of my cap
My cravat was always crease-less and my slacks were really snappy
My shoes were always shiny, which made my pappy happy

Lesson one was cookery, but not for me today
So I sent our chef, an hour ahead, to make a nice soufflé
He usually does a marvelous job or when his mood permits
For Daddy signed him on a whim, after dining at the Ritz

Lesson two was Polo or Gymkhana if you must
So I chose fresh clothes and donned my hose as Polo’s upper crust
Oh I wish I’d brought my pony for the school ones just won’t do
They are barely fit for peasants, they are barely fit for glue

Morning break was late to take and the Polo match was drawn
But if you pleased, they’d bring cream teas to be taken on the lawn
I really didn't fancy Maths, so I stayed and sipped my char
For who could bear, and hour with Blair and his dreadful algebra

Lesson four was falconry with Mr Preston Love
His birds were plump but deadly and so quick off the glove
I loved to watch them soar and dive, a spiffing show for all
Reminds me of my gap year, hunting foxes in Nepal  

Lesson five was cancelled as Mummsy wrote a letter
She felt that English won’t suffice and elocution’s better
So Wilson rolled up in the Rolls and whisked me off to class
I hope tomorrow’s much improved, for today was oh so crass

The problem with Orange
Is nothing will rhyme
So instead of an Orange
I'll write about Lime.

The wind doth blow
And chills my bones
How I miss you radiant sun
Like marionettes
The leaves pirouette
At least they're all having fun

It was a glorious night for a moonlit flight
On Barry my Big Berkshire Boar
Huffing and puffing like flying was nothing
Over the treetops we’d soar

Well I never knew, that other pigs flew
As Darren came circling down
Sat proud on top his Gloucester Old Spot
Wow! What a wonderful sow

I’m sure I can claim that Darren was the same
As his jaw nearly dropped to the ground
For Darren and I, had pigs that could fly
And you don’t really see that around

“Hey your pig flies!” Darren wailed with surprise
“And we only just met for a drink”
“I didn't know you, had a flying pig too
  Just what would the other guys think!?”

So we soon made a pact, with our secret intact
Everything worked out just fine
Now we’re both out at night, when the weather is right
Racing our rare flying swine!

I think wonder spreads like wild fire in curious minds

Curiosity (10 words)

It may well **** cats but it makes humans great

Have you used a dead dog's **** for a lipstick?

Tear me open, you outta
'Instant poet just add water'

No longer will she come a-calling
She left his keys
With a twist of the knife he's falling
To his knees
A stab in the dark without warning
She never flees
How can she sit there ignoring
A dying man's pleas?

Someone who has immense talent, learns little and produces less

My head swoons upon exhalation an expectation of exhilaration
A sharp burst of pleasure, a tingling measure of raw and unrefined lust
Dopamine courses through our brains, as pupils dilate, we can’t wait
Scrabbling like starved mongrels, tearing at each others clothes

Lips locked our tongues meet in open mouthed passion
Uninhibited, unbridled, no holds barred
Mouthing lobes and unguarded necks, teasing flesh with the brush of teeth
Vulnerable yet willing, surrendered to the inevitability of need

Fingers tracing gently across trembling skin, fumbling therein
Mounds of ample pink flesh, in firm press
Bodies arched and contorted, twisted together as natures root
Incalescent fervour, further ardour, lost in a single moment

No world, just boy and girl, dancing the dance of desire
Swaying like willows, propped amongst pillows, hands clasped as tempo completes
Enbosomed things slow, grinding to a halt, heavy breathed and spent
Basking in the afterglow of satisfaction..........life could not be so sweet

Bright red lips
Taking sips
As poisonous as apple pips

“Follow your dreams!” Said the sage
“But what if you wake and they’re gone?”
“Well maybe you’ll soon come of age?”
“Or maybe I simply have none!”

The years soon past and enlightenment never came
Maybe the wise man was wrong
To rise every morning always the same
No direction for moving along

“Reach for the stars!” said the sage
“But what if I can’t see the sky?”
“Maybe it’s only a stage?”
“Maybe I can, if I try!?”

Well time ticked by but the stars never shone
Maybe the wise man was wrong
Had those pin ****** to heaven faded and gone
Or just never there all along

“What should I do?” said the youth
“Follow your dreams!” I replied
“But for you it was never the truth!”
“Well maybe the old sage had lied?”

Since all my thoughts became entwined, I find it hard to pick one out
Since all my words have muddled up, I cloud my judgement with self doubt
Since all my lines have merged as one, I find it hard to even think
Since all my poems sound the same, I think I'm probably wasting ink

I think I’m still moving on
Still writing music son
I’m still righting wrongs
Still writing songs
I’m still singing like nobody is listening
Even when everyone’s listening
I’m still moving rapidly
I’m still when I need to be
But I think most importantly
I’m still me..........I’m still me

This bull's horns are oily
Alas my hands just slip
How am I to seize the day
If I cannot get a grip

I remember when poems were good not **** like this!

I nibbled my apple right to the core
But my lunch box was empty, I still wanted more
So I thought, what the hell, there’s no one around
And I chewed it all up and swallowed it down

Upon the next day on my way back from school
The bus had broke down, I felt awfully full
We were all simply stranded with no help in sight
I was going to burst I had to alight

Now my house wasn't far, a ten minute walk
But I just couldn't wait and I hadn't a cork
So I slide down the bank to a spot underneath
And when I had finished I found me a leaf

Now ten years have passed and right on that route
Stands a proud apple tree all laden with fruit
So just with my bottom I managed to grow a tree
And now reminisce with my poo-a-tree poetry

Two trees now lean
One lost trampoline

Hardly a hurricane.

A terrible fall in the autumn of my life
I met an ugly woman and that woman's now my wife
She's ugly on the inside and ugly on the out
She's really mean and nasty she always has to shout
So I put her up on eBay and wrote 'she's really nice'
But nobody was interested she was only checked out twice
So if you like them old and ugly or even mean and nasty
Please ring Billy on 0789967893

Twisted light perforates the dust filled room and the pungent odour of history hangs in the air like stale bread and old forgotten pantomime costumes.
Yet somehow the smell recalls recollections of a jolly past. Transporting me back through the years, tumbling over and over in the rapids of time until I splash down and emerge as the keen eyed five year old I once was.
I can still hear the shrill screams of play bounce around my head and feel the boy in me longing to join them on the playground outside. I can feel the tight lace wrapped round my hand as I swing my unsurpassed conker to victory. I can still see the bouncing curly locks of the sweet little girls as they hop and skip to long forgotten nursery rhymes.  I can still feel the dried mud caked on my palms sending shudders of discomfort all down my spine and the cold drafts of air through the green hole covered knees of my short nylon trousers.
Swinging the blackboard round to reveal the partially erased remnants of the very last lesson, my mind adopts that old familiar position. Arms folded, head in arms wishing that time would move on.
Sadly my wish came true. Sure it took its time but these days time flows by like a babbling weir stopping for nothing.  
How I now long for that dripping tap like time once was. Those long summer breaks and endless days playing in the meadows where I lived. Even boredom is no longer as sweet. The kind of boredom where you aren't making excuses for not doing something. For these days there is always something that needs to be done.
Oh how I miss the innocence of youth that carefree era where ironically, what you desired, was everything you don’t want now.
Wiping a single tear from my cheek I left my old classroom, hopped over the fence and walked away from school one last time.

Don't be so vague
Be specific now please Craig

Muted skies dim the light, as deep dark clouds roll across the big wide blue
The air is alive with the anticipation of electrical discharge
The wind whips up, catching the vane, spinning it round unsure where to point
The temperature drops, but not unpleasantly, as it cools the skin and soothes the tension
Drip by drip it all begins, each single drop picking its own spot on the dusty road
Sparsely and sporadically, as random as the stars in the night they plot their course to earth
Within seconds the duration between drips lessens and the unblemished dry becomes the spots
The heavens open and the deluge commences, spots turn to puddles and puddles to pools
Soon the gutters are awash with ***** water and debris; small streams emerge and meander across the roadways
People scatter and rush for shelter, shielding themselves from the rain with whatever comes to hand
Then all of a sudden lightening comes fourth, with the grandest of entries, splitting the old oak in twain
Black too its trunk, burnt by immense power, leaving it dismembered in a cacophony of sound
The rain doesn't ease but steps up in pace and fills all the dips and curves in the land
Then as if the taps have been turned, it slows and stops and the sun peaks around the corner of its shroud
The blanket is lifted, the brilliant sun is now back in all its glory and the temperature rises once more
Within an hour the air is humid and the road reappears, the storm has passed soon to be forgotten, but not by the once mighty oak

Rejoicing in her splendour, feeling truly blessed
I kiss her tenderly on her brow and hold her too my chest
I whisper softly in her ear, sweet words to make her smile
Such warm embrace, the perfect place, to linger for a while

To all intents and purposes I find myself alone
As quiet as a blank page, a dog without a bone
Nothing but my own thoughts clangerous in my empty head
I long for freedom from myself, but I'm not sure if that's dead?

Green slowly turns to brown
Still warm but you know it’s coming
Short but sweet, don’t leave!

Many a poem speaks of love
Love in its most tempestuous form
But sometimes love is only love
Sometimes love can be the norm

Sometimes love just wears away
And sometimes love just disappears
Sometimes love comes back one day
But sometimes love can last the years

For love is a many-faceted thing
It comes in many guises
It sometimes just explodes from in
And sometimes it just rises

Maybe I will love again
Maybe I will not
For love is always found within
To never be forgot

At the start
Beside myself
Can’t find peace
Don’t get wealth
Even Joy
Flits away
Gone tomorrow
Here today
Inside my arms
Joy found you
Kindles hope
Like dreams come true
My head spins round
Nothing’s through
Opinions differ
People too
Questions raised
Rants and raves
Some complain
To be praised
Undesired
Vile horrific
Wedged within
Xenolithic

Yet with time you’ll soon set free

Zest for life and zest for me

When it comes to affairs of the heart
I never know where I should start

I never know where to begin
I never know when to stand back
I never know when to dive in
I never know when to change tact

It’s not that I've ever been dense
Though I’m probably far too intense

I’m probably too much for most birds
I’m probably not right in the head
I’m probably obsessed with my words
I’m probably too good in bed

I came to you last night in a dream
My soul left my body and drifted away
The scenery went by at speed
Over oceans and mountains and forests and plains

I feared for the worst
I might disappear
But my soul knew the way
I had nothing to fear
I was calm and relaxed, enjoying the ride
I floated in gently to lay at your side

So if only in spirit, in a fashion there's passion
Then just like that, I'm gone, like a ninja assassin

Man can't live on bread alone
Even magic'd from a stone
Jesus Christ said
"Cheese is nice!"
"Once a day or maybe twice"
"And as we're turning stones to bread
We'll make this water a glass of red"
Who'd of thought he'd be so fickle
The 'naughty boy' he conjured pickle

I once ate flan in a pan from a can with a man in a van called Dan then ran!

I was sure I’d have an issue
When you went to Mogadishu
But I didn’t use a tissue
Cos I didn’t even miss you

I was sure I’d feel some pain
When you left here for Bahrain
But as long as there’s a plane
You’d soon be back again

I have to see a quack
Since you left here for Iraq
And now we’re wearing black
Cos you’re never coming back