Shame she didn't quite outlast Maggie,

My nan was nicer!

It was only the other day you fell asleep in your old chair
The one that was in your front room decades ago
You didn't see Andy Murray lose but you didn't care
You’d eaten well and heavy eyed you dozed

I’m sorry but when I lost the house it had to go
I know throwing it out was a bit wrong
But if chairs go to heaven though
At least you’ll have something there to sit on

I wish I’d never told you off for smoking by the pump
You looked so sad that I’d made you feel a fool
But imagine how you would have made those people jump
As they were all engulfed by a massive fireball

Enjoy your new lungs and try keeping them clean for a few hours
Enjoy your time with Granddad it’s been thirty years too long
Enjoy strolling through those heavenly gardens with all your favourite flowers
But in heaven, please don’t bag cuttings; I’m sure up there it’s wrong!

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

Sarcasm, the lowest form of wit
Yet if the highest form is wasteful, the lowest form could fit

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

And all the fishes in the sea,
They swim around but they don't swim as fast as me
And all the birds that are in the skies,
They swoop and dive but then you've never seen me fly
It's because I'm Superman, It's because I'm Superman

Tell me darling it’s all true, I’ve not flipped tonight
I’d do anything for you, I’d eat kryptonite!

Sometimes I look through walls,
I’ve seen you through your clothes
I’ll catch you if you fall,
I'll fly you round the world
I’m just a man of steel,
Can stop a speeding train
I’ve told you how I feel,  
Won’t you be my Lois Lane,  
Won’t you be my Lois Lane.

Tell me darling it’s all true, I’ve not flipped tonight
I’d do anything for you, I’d eat kryptonite!

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

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

Clickety clack, clickety clack go the perfect white plastic teeth as they clip together
Reality bites like a pair of comedy dentures sprung from the pocket of a sad faced clown
Look again; are they plastic? Or are they waterloo teeth plucked from the warm corpse of a cold friend
Either way they are far too close to my face for this to be funny.
For redemption he squeezes his droopy flower between finger and thumb
But to no avail.....The comedy squirt is missing; it is as dry as the tears on his powder white cheek
Squeak, squeak, squeak goes the wheel on his unicycle as he painfully pedals away
But it is not he that failed you....No it is those that stole the part of you that used to be easily pleased
Like thieves in the night, feasting on your happiness and enjoying the thought of wonderful you falling from your erroneously perceived perch
Well let them take their pound of flesh, if they can rejoice in my pain it will only erode them from the inside out
I renounce such bitterness because before long I will find me again, I will be stronger and better
I will take flight and alight a pedestal far higher than the one they imagined I thought I was on


“Just words!” screams that child in my soul...Actions are stifled like the image of a five year old you with a cloth clasped to the face; breathing on the anaesthetic evil of life.
You want to help but you can only see him through the one way glass of time, what is done is done and can only be undone through reliving this terror and fixing the damage
His struggle is short lived and the monsters descend, dragging him by a foot naked and bruised, head banging the contours of this corridor of depravity
He cannot hear your screams but his fill your ears like the blood of a million paper cuts, not one measured but together a pain like no other
Where was his saviour? Or was he always considered as a low risk category a misconception of strength and need
Was his ***, the white of his skin, the bread on his table, the money in his mothers pocket and the education he received render him ineligible for salvation
In short...“Yes”...he was expected to save himself and learn to save others...Those less fortunate.
Little do they know in some ways, once you’ve scratched the surface, they were far luckier
Their vices were less harmful than his own devices, as a little knowledge is dangerous
With great power comes great responsibility but some can be responsible for others without learning to take care of themselves.

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!

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

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon england's mountains green?
And was the holy lamb of god
... On england's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was jerusalem builded here
Among those dark satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear: o clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariots of fire!
I will not cease from metal fight;
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built jerusalem
In england's green and pleasant land.

Today she brought her lunch in a Tesco’s bag
She had Co Op cheese,
Waitrose rolls,
And Sainsbury’s basic butter

Does she not care that people see she shops around!?

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.

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

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

I'll never forget those despairing eyes the very last time ours met
Washed away as my love was drained but that's not why her cheeks were wet
She knew it could not be the same, she knew our time had passed
On her lips, another's name, despoiled I stood aghast
How could a love so sweet ruin so quick
What was once thought everlasting, die without being sick
How could she be so reckless with a kinship deemed so hallow
Burdened with the weight of love on shoulders far too narrow
I begged her to share her woes, alas her tongue held fast
I bargained with a currency of joyous days gone past
Her mind was set, where plentiful lakes of passion once sprung from her heart
Lay a baron desolate wasteland, two extremes, poles apart
I had to close my eyes and curse the stars above
I couldn't watch her wash away in a flash flood of my love.

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

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

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?

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

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

Two trees now lean
One lost trampoline

Hardly a hurricane.

Delicately you place your words, beautifully moulded, a true window too your soul
Exposed to the world courageously
Pegged out for all to see like silky knickers on the line

I envy such craft

My words are crudely hacked from the dictionary and flung from the shoulder like the carcass of some unwanted vermin
Left in the dust for the circling vultures to swoop down and pick to the bone

But I am just a chrysalis waiting in my cocoon

One day I shall become refined
One day I shall find the honey and not the sting
One day I shall sow my words like seeds
I shall watch them burst into a thousand different colours and dance playfully in the meadows breeze.

For the second time in March we have snow
Could someone please wake spring from her slumber
She should be here by now fighting the good fight, wiping clean the wintersmiths frosty drawings

Last year she had tucked him away
She had read him his bedtime story
Last year we had seventeen, this year we have merely two

How he must be laughing, running amok through the hills and the valleys
Turning everything white with a wave of his hand
But where is she? Even he must miss her so, even he must be longing to dance

Still it is not his place to question
He can only do what is in him to do
With a sigh he exhales a bitter northerly wind and coats the confused daffodil with a jacket of ice

Then off he goes dancing alone
Spinning wildy through the towns like a leaf in a web
Stopping only to place his hands on those foolish enough to leave flesh exposed

Maybe she has forsaken us
Maybe she has resigned her post
Like when the last ice age hit and she took a sabbatical

I hope she has just slept in
Or maybe she is just getting ready for the grandest of entries
Yes let us hope she is just sorting through her vast collection of colourful dresses

Because if she does not appear and dance the dance of seasons change
If she doesn't take the wintersmith by the hand and sing him softly to sleep
Then that giant golden skinned adonis of a man summer will not come!

Without her he will not appear
Without her beauty we will not feel the warmth of his love
Oh someone please wake spring from her slumber

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

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

She once quivered at my touch
She once shivered oh so much
But now if I touched her skin she'd just recoil in horror
As if I was draping a sticky used ****** upon'er

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

Sitting out on the porch with grandma, talking about winters past
Sitting out on the porch with grandma, wishing the summer would last
I remember when I would fit under her arm, as snuggly as she now fits mine
I remember when she would watch over me, I remember when she was just fine
But now it is her that is childish, now it is her that needs me
I will not judge, I will not scold, I will just let it be, let it be

For sometimes, she sits real quiet,
and says............'nothing'.........but sometimes that says it all!

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

"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

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

“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’m fine at work, I’m me again
I don’t think of women when surrounded by men
All in this together, all in the same boat
But come Five O’clock, I’m cut loose to float
I’m sat in my dingy, alone once more
Just sat in my dingy, without an oar
Again cast adrift to float through this sea
Like life of Pi, yet no one but me
Bobbing around, sending up flares
But nobody notices, nobody cares
Hardly aware I’m feeling this pain
Then come Nine O’clock I’m needed again

That's not right
Is that chicken? I mean I thought it was chicken
Doesn't feel like chicken
Is it worth checking

Doesn't taste like chicken.

Oh.... I swallowed.

Now I'm going to have live the rest of my days never knowing whether that was actually chicken!

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

You can read my text
You can like my text
You can comment on my text
You can even hate my text
But understand these compositions aren’t for you
They’re for me... and her.....but mostly me.

Sometimes I read them as if I was brave enough to send them
Sometimes I read them in her voice, in my head
Sometimes she smiles and laughs, still in my head
Sometimes she just sighs and fakes a laugh
If in my head I picture her with much scorn I tear it up and start again

I wonder if she’d like these thoughts
I wonder if she’d like me more
I wonder if she also writes
Her love letters were so beautiful, of this I am sure

Largely loathing laborious loveless life
Lustless, listless lacking lady lifemate

It's been four days since she hated me
Five nights since she cut me loose
I was angry, she had ditched me
But she was playing by her rules

My phone buzzed with her preset tone
"I'm home soon are you about x"
I don't like being all alone
But it's late to be going out

I found myself sat on her bed
Discussing how my text was wrong
How her drunken antics are in my head
I wasn't staying long

Yet although this girl is wrong for me
As I am wrong for her
She looks so **** angry
And something starts to stir

"friends can kiss" we kiss
"friends can touch" we touch
After a frantic hour of bliss
Doing stuff friends don't do much

I leave

Once again testing the boundaries of friendship.

On the road of true love is this just a dip?

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

The best made plans of mice and men often go awry
So why make plans you cannot keep, why d’we even try?
Why does man seek comfort in familiarity?
When familiarity breeds contempt
Why do we miss this unsubtle hilarity?
Within all the things we’ve dreamt

I’m not giving in just giving up
I’m going to let life wash over me and overflow my cup
I’m going to take all that it offers, even if it’s not expected
And live each day as they come as if they’re not connected
I won’t get what I want, I’ll get what I need
I shall cast off the shackles, unbridled and freed

I shall walk bare foot through the grass and savour the cool crisp air
I shall live only for the moment as if I just don’t care!

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

She lived so effervescently, so vivid, so iridescent
The brightness of her life force knew no equal
She burnt like oxy acetylene a blinding, blazing, brilliance
But once extinguished there can be no sequel

For soon her radiant light grew dim
Like the flame of a candle dancing in a cold draft
Though vulnerable her spirit lingers
She knew her days were numbered
Like the doors in the hospital corridors
Her flame went out, like it was pressed between wetted fingers

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