After the storm the mist forms over Mussenden.
A cargo ship appears to sit still in the bay.
Lit up like a landing beacon at night.
Hardy souls on board.
White sea horses rumble over kelp strewn shores.

Wagtails dart over basalt towers
The strand with it's white sand round the corner.
Donegal, hidden by dreich looks like a far away land.
All is quiet.. nothing to report...calm returns.

Notifications come in..
'Your iCloud account is full'
'Your Google account is full'
Full of what.. I wonder?
Bits and bytes of memories
Some of which matter, most of which don't
Data cooking on servers, data cooking the world with heat

Handle won't move
Drawers full
Wardrobes full
Full of what.. I wonder?
Clothes that haven't been worn once this year
Shoes that lie dormant in little door mice boxes
Decent covers for others that need them to stay warm

Fridge door is stuck
Shelves are full
Cupboards are full
Full of what.. I wonder?
Good fruit, tinned meat and veg that I sometimes eat
But mostly goes into recycling
Fuel for hungry soles

I stutt..er, words can't come out
Synapses stuck
Brain is full
Full of what.. I wonder?
Media junk from many screens
Mostly *******, occasionally useful
Negative rhetoric filling valuable spaces
Brain fog and digital clouds, clouding the future

Unexpected September sun
Beaming down settling, settling, blinding between leaves
Pigeon sunbathing, motionless head down, comfortable, mulling over something nice
The leaves are almost done
Steam rising from the wet laundry on the line
A change of view... and it's gone

I want to be a nice narcissist
perhaps a mediocre misogynist
being comfortable being uncomfortable
maybe a polite and pleasant *****

In my world I
control everything
my destiny is written 'n
your value has been calculated 'n summed up

I am the author of your future
Trading you for something else is modern day barter
converting you into money, a simple task and honey trapping your friend into a
pyramid scheme just a wave of my hand.

my confidence is soaring
don't threaten me with your matrix media
your questions are not relevant
my questions are your mandate

you have to listen because I love you
I can give you what you want
take you from your broken body and make you my creation

I have become a figure of hate
no wait.....
fk this, fk this, I'm no Andrew Tate

La Coste cap, Gucci glasses, Mr Porter white trainers
Snapchat, Whatsapp, Insta
You've been sending me messages
About who you are
You're the I in 'SelfIe'

Charity shoes, bland jeans, non branded gear,
Talking, smiling, laughing
I'm sending you my response
About what I value but you aren't listening

Earpods in, zoned out
You're not even attempting to listen to me
You'll see I'm comfortable about being uncomfortable
You are connected, I'm disconnected
You want more, I want less

Where does your message thread connect with mine?
Which bit or byte do we sync on?
We are both heating up ends of this silicon
But when will we hope to share an emoticon?

I belong to a wrong wing think tank
I like my toast buttered on no sides
I go in through the exit and..
I'm comfortable being uncomfortable

Morning, so nice to hate you
Get out, we were expecting you
I have have always disliked you
You'll, never be my friend

Come back, I'd like to give you a Glasgow kiss
Rest assured, I have no confidence in you
Once a family, never a family
Don't take what it is yours, I worked hard to provide it for you

We barged hard against the old door and managed to get in
Dark corridors led to a back alley where fantasy met reality
There they were, hundreds a shiny boxed small windows waiting for us
Richard picked up a stone, pulled his home made catapult and released.
Bam, a broken window now more broken
You have a go
I took it and hit a window, amazing sound and joy
The windows were in our sights

Left a bit, right a bit...
Patang, reload, hutchuck, dut, snnuuuck,
Missed
Adjust scope a little to the right
This time a hit, no movement from the crow
A small troop are marching up towards our house
Door bell rings
dad looks concerned
'There's a report of a youngster with a rifle?'
It's the UDR
dad looks very nervous
'Its just my son with an air rifle'
dad brings the rifle to the door and the gun licence he had
Firkin wee Duffie the headmaster has seen me with his binoculars
The wee sneak ..I rumble under my breath
'No problem sir, we're on our way out of here'
Wee Duffie had me in his sights

Returning from England the green walk up the Dungannon road is a fresh change from the hustle and bustle
Passing a bungalow on the right a man stares out at me, hands by his side
I take a left up a hill past Derek's place
We rode his white horse bare back in that field
Suddenly a car pulls up with the man and he winds the window down
'What's the name?' he growls
'What do you mean what's the name, I'm just out for a walk?' I retort
He reaches for the glove box, I stop
'What's the name?' he shouts again
I ignore him and continue walking
He accelerates quickly forwards stops and manages to make a U turn

Walking back home I'm confronted a small troop of soldiers marching the other way
A car pulls up
'What's the name?'
'Turner' I say
"It's the bank manager's son, stand down'
On reflection I processed this situation years later
The big man Stewart had thought I was a 'spotter' from the IRA spotting him an off duty policeman in his home so that a shooter could take him out
He had his hand on his pistol in his glove box with a view to pull the trigger
He had me in his sights

They say when you are given a terminal diagnosis
That you reach a moment of clarity
A moment where material goods don't matter
A moment where that thing 'n'
her and him fighting doesn't matter either
A moment of euphoria

Psychologists debate why it takes this diagnosis to trigger such happiness?
Why can't we bottle up that feeling and press play today?
Let's not wait until that day
Let's go for that moment
Let's embrace Euphoria

Comfortable being uncomfortable
Comfortable with war and terror in the Middle East
Uncomfortable with the new price of Netflix and the Supermarket's next feast.

Guilty and not guilty
Guilty of walking past the homeless person
Not guilty in protesting against hate's latest version

Ashamed and not ashamed
Ashamed of the toothpaste stain on my denim
Not ashamed of homeless children in Yemen.

Gimme a piece of tape
So I can stick your mouth and stop you learning to vape

Gimme an EXIT
So I can stop everyone talking about Brexit

Gimme a curse
So I can stop you entering the multiverse

Gimme a reason
So I can be happy this Christmas season

Gimme a heart
So I can stop this world falling apart

Wandering willow leaves
dropping...
spinning...
spinning in control
no sound
nature's quiet bunch
getting on with it with no fuss
as they reach the ground I look up
to see more take their short journey

digital noise...everyday
humming at low frequency
disrupting the human flow

human noise... everyday
balking at volume in desparation
causing harm to all

animal noise.. everyday
beautiful tones and chirps
a free choir that brings joy

we have the choice to subscribe to all of these noises
or to seek peace with careful selection, wisdom and a smile

Maybe something was wrong but
For a moment I thought I was dying
I saw the pit, I saw my soul.
The darkest moments

Maybe something was right but
For a moment I thought I was living
My heart pulsed wildly
As you and I laughed together

Maybe something was destined to be
For a moment I believed the future was bright
Sunlight glistening over the house through the windows
As I looked up to the sky

Maybe these are just my thoughts
For moment they tried to convince me that they were real
I get up and start the day
Content and confident that I can have a positive day

Morning dew, morning sun
Looking out on the morning run
Past 'Byers Keep' ’n' fields of wheat

'Shurlock row', 'Glebe farm'
Watch out little squirrel I mean you no harm
Sound of rubber coming from the tyre
Past the ducks, the stream, field ’n' 'Blantyre'

Beads of sweat on my forehead
I look up and smile
At one with nature, leaving a busy world for a while

Gentle seas reflect light near the island of Brac
Local men tender their allotments early in the morning
Swifts start to dart about
A local lady carries herbs and flowers down hill to the restaurants

Old men gather for coffee and cigarettes
People carry bread and cherry baklava from the bakery
The butcher's door is always open, he is working hard
Tourists sprint about in a hurry

Kids play cards as if it's the 1970's
Ladies show off dramatic tattoos on their backs
Walking down the steps to the beach
I sit near the outdoor shower and relax, getting ready to dive in

After the freeze came the warm days in December 22
The days starting getting longer
The morning grass dew

The leaves stayed on for longer this year
Due to the warmth of November
We didn't expect it
We didn't remember

Walking is joy
And joy to see
Man and women and dogs
Forest, leaves and the trees

Iced leaf
Like a candy peal
Sitting upright
On a frozen morn

Iced pond
Grass caught upright standing still
Blackbirds frantically seek food
Squirrels bury nuts for later

Iced gate
Someone has been here
Opening it
To start the day

Walking through the park
Light pores through trees and leaves
Two swans stand casually preening themselves
Their white feathers lifting gently then settling, then lifting in the wind
A heron parks on a wooden post in the pond
Signets busy themselves on the surface
Just being, being there to witness this
That's all that is needed today
Being..

Stark, definition. ..gut, gross, hart, stabil
Stark world, stark value
Driven by obsessive digital noise
Driven by the need to control the narrative

Dark, definition..with little or no light
Dark world, darker world
Driven by people with dark voices
Driven by the need to bleed

Bark, definition ...loud noise that a dog and some other animals make
Bark world, full of 'other' animals
Driven by the need to be heard
Driven by the need to be part of the pack

Give me your noise
On the Internet, on the airwaves
Give me your chaos
In the house, in the streets

Let's hear the sounds
Of metal grinding against bone
Let's hear you taking it all
Destroying that phone

Staple me to the floor
Do your worst to it all
Be the devil incarnate
Join the foray, join the mall

Tower above us
Show us your rage
Be the worst you can
Rattle that cage

Something is in the water ..
Something is coming towards me..
It's shaped like a Viking ship..
The front end is the S shaped bow..
Like the Loch Ness monster
The rear a flat stern
Catching the wind
Taking it forwards, then port, then starboard
It's magic, it's an S shaped leaf
Caught travelling on a beautiful day

Culturally connected
Kneeling with both hands
Deep in home soil
Staring at green mountains

Culturally disconnected
Hands on head
On unfamiliar ground
Looking for solace

Dangerously attractive
Sentient being
Sitting opposite...
God has given her a full hand

Seriously smooth
Androgynous clothed alien
Knows her place in society
Plays the room

Confidently quiet
She eyes up the weak in front of her
And turns her head back to the glass wall
It's not time to preen

Smiling nervously
The weak gibber and gabber
Trying to place a hook
But the sea is vast and the catch is not biting

You know things are dire
When you study the Internet and buy an air fryer
A material abduction
That comes in a large box with no instruction

You search in vain for something to cook
Struggling on YouTube, you make that look
Of someone lost in absolution consumption
No sense of normal behaviour resumption

With social top trump psychology
We debate 'extra crisp' technology
Creating new food mashups from hell
What comes out of the sliding drawer no-one can tell

After dehydrating decent food
You may find you need to do some good
Switch off that new fire
And bin your air fryer

This morning I caught the sky
Right in my hands
Nebulous, Cumulus all in one hand
Brightness, brightness , beaming out of my fingers

Holding it up
The power is unimaginable
I try not to put it out
Then suddenly...
Like a butterfly I let it go

Wonder if there is a parallel life?
Opportunity to be nice to my wife.....or partner
Maybe we should see life through a double lens
Time to make amends

Wonder if we could pause time
Stop and look for God's sign
Maybe we might change how we act
When torrid people start their attack

Wonder if I could spare a life
From death's door, that would be rife
Maybe you can join my stand
Time to join the parallel band

Unexpected smile from the lady beside me
As I say goodbye after a day's work in the office
Such joy,  such a great smile , such radiance
Perhaps we can can it?

Unexpected number plate 'Ph1 1LL'
As he undercuts me at the traffic lights
Calm down Phil
It's only 8 a.m the morning
I'm sure you'll get to work ok.

Unexpected gorilla bursts into my home
Heads straight to the office and grabs my laptop
Logs into my old Facebook account
And starts sending illicit messages and naughty pictures
You're welcome mate, grab a banana too

Unexpected kindness from the beggar at the parking bay
Tells me that the meter is broken so don't bother
I buy him a sandwich
'Ham and white bread will do'.
No problem mate enjoy

Perfectly presented
In white linen smock
Perfect smile
And perfect floppy hat

Perfectly seen
Prism of beauty
Axis of arc
Staring back at me

Perfectly grounded
Sereen sapphire lens
Moccasin heals
Treading towards me

In 1979 she walked into my life
Perfectly presented
Perfect smile
And a perfect floppy hat

Induced Autumn, induced coma for the world
Tramping on crispy red leaves in Summer
The birds aren't showing up as much now
Something is wrong, something is very wrong

Chestnut trees are dying or trying to survive
Severe cracks in paths and roads
Like earth scars from a violent encounter
Something is wrong, something is very wrong

England's green and pleasant land has become
England ***** brown and unpleasant land from air
People walk their dogs without noticing
Others raise their heads to the sky and ask why?

Genetically glad
Genetically sad
I'm running with momentum over scrag and path
My muscles drag me to the destination

Other's pass by me
Other's I pass
All shapes and sizes
All styles and devices

The view from the top is sublime
Body sore from the climb
The town below think we are mad
Me ...I'm genetically glad

Can you separate a man from his art?
Can you see under his skin?
Do you judge his art by his views?
Look under yours to see what is true

Shining lights on a Dalmatian shore
Broken little mirrors on an aqua sea
provides the backdrop for boys wrestling on a concrete diving board

Girls soaking each other with a push button tap
The thin old man in speedos intervenes
One hand holding a roll up
The other gesturing in Croatian

The setting sun behind the city of Split
Is a rusty heat haze for swallows to dart over
Truffle oil fills the air from the cafe
A couple use sign language to speak as the sea roars in

Backs and shoulders covered in beautiful inked art with Angels, crosses and devils
Pine trees provide shelter on the stony beach
Families playing cards and laughing.

The church bells signal it is time to go in
We start up the hill and look back at the sky.
A night to remember and a night to repeat.

System sounds, air-conditioning
Steel and glass monolith
Designed for a cast of thousands
But only a small cast today

Wondering through this building
The sound is deafening
Automatic doors, occasional voices
Free desks everywhere

This is some kind of dark business tourism
The toilets are empty and clean
The printer stacked with paper ready to go
A lone warrior armed with PC and head mic

What has happened?
What made the shift?
When will it end?
When will we work from work again?

It's not a mobile or desktop jibe
I'm simply asking you to unsubscribe
From every bit of crap you see
For every URL you key

Scrolling through pics and words does not make any sense
The urge to stop... just so tense
The flashing screen with made up stories
Is nothing to celebrate, there is no glory

Let's unsubscribe.

With 2G phone in hand
No sign of a ring-light stand
The un-influencer comes to the table

He doesn't tweet when people die
Says negative things that will make you cry
Gets stuck when logging in
Wears holes in his clothes that really should be in a bin

Writes bad poetry that nobody reads
Writes bad blogs that would make your eyes bleed
States the obvious when asked
Laughs and then makes you gasp

Doesn't check his look before zooming
Doesn't check his volume, it's booming
To be avoided at social functions
Should be served with a court injunction

Flowers dropping from a tree
White glimpses of light
Softly swirling, spinning, spinning
Gently resting on green
Time standing still for a few seconds.

Night draws in on cityscapes
Sirens blaring, people swearing
Night people during night times
Streets move go from muted silence to untamed violence

People *******, people passing
Spare us some change, sorry, sorry luv
Gangs of women labelled hen do
Gangs of men, sailor hats drinking brew

Donna kebabs here, curry sauce there
Avoiding deliveroo, deliver who?
Alchemists mixing drinks and dry ice
More bouncers on the door, really, really be nice

Lovers drinking coffee liqueurs
Haters acting like cold Fuhrers
Avoiding bike, electric bike, trike, man, woman
Avoiding cars, buses and vans

12 year old screaming lying on wall
Police arriving there's a squall
In the next alley silence beacons us in
A different world a different din

Cloud people, living in the clouds
Wondering what it was like for the 'ground born'
City scapes, towering above ruined land masses
Avoiding the shame of centuries of negligence

Sealed solitude, as we ensure our cocoons survive the pressure at 30,000 feet
Video relay, of the ancient times skipping in fields and harvesting crops
Self sustenance, as we protect our supplies and start a new life

Tribal allegiance, as we maintain a strict discipline of following the 'sky script'
Remote sensing, looking for residual life on the ground
Next gen, as we build the mother ship
To take us off this broken planet

The first bee landed on the open
tulip just then
He stopped and worked away
Did you see it?

He wasn't interested in me or the the news
Just focused on his work
and left....

Blood spelt sweat
Poisoned stick at my throat
Rush of adrenalin as I stand at the edge
Here's to being at this place again

The place, a false flag of declaration
The place, a false red light when it's green
The mind is detached from the body
And declares harm and evil is on it's way

The battle begins and I push against an invisible enemy
The first attack leads to no victors
The second like a punch in the gut
I kneel in pain, but the body is not hurt

Rotten forest leads to rotten homes and rotten people
Passing through the swamp of social deity
I cross a bridge with breaking timbers
Suddenly light breaks through a small gap and the toil ends

Were we weak to react to unprovoked attack?
Did we let down those n break our human pact?
Politicians debate lethal aid with cynicism
Contributing to our mortal bleakism

Pity the child that knocks on our shore
Pity the government that's rotten to the core
To stop a life with tabloid criticism
Contributes more to our mortal bleakism

Wave after wave
White tips of foam
With grey linings run towards
A warm brun sand

Spider web white threads
On a turquoise canvas
Swirling in and out
Lapping in on a black granite frame

Emerald shore
Lined with dulse and crab
The changing sea palette
Paints a different picture every second

Slate, ash, porpoise, dove
Lead, pebble, coin and fossil
Pewter , cloud, silver and smoke
All dash towards the shore

Grey sandpipers run like kids in unison
In and out, in and out
Orange puffins land on small nests
Black and white Oystercatchers nod for food

Shifting cloud darkens the beach
Walkers led by happy dogs
Traverse the length of the coast
As the setting sun signals time to go home

Building a deathbox for the enemy to find
Concealed entrance, lethal aid inside for being so unkind
Not to big, not to small
Evil body shaped for evil to crawl
To meet their destiny
Revenge for the fall

We tried non-lethal but lethal aid is the way
To stem the fight
To stop the afray
Checking inside for the number killed
Is a bloodthirsty task, an uneasy chill

Removing the bodies is an arduous task
Left out for the red-kite
The dinner table is vast
Reset the mechanism, conceal the top deck
Ready for the next wave
Ready to wreck

Building a nest
Selecting piece by piece
Twig by twig
The foundation for new life

Building a family
New born by new born
From offspring to offsprung
From eyes open to first run

Fleeing the nest
From uni offer to tearful goodbye
From first cycle to mother's cry
The nest is still called home
The nest is still called home

Calmer skies are coming
Through nimbus and cumulus
From cirrus to alto
They are coming

Calmer words are coming
From rhetoric to echo chamber
From missile attack to mortal danger
They are coming

Kinder people are coming
From torrid social media to ignorant stand
From punch to outreached hand
They are coming

Running at night
Guided by a torso mounted light
Stepping from the the pavement
Into the darkness

Into the wood
Scanning the forest floor
Looking to avoid the trip
Looking to find the way out

UFO lights turn out to be neon lit dogs
Jumping up steps, jumping over logs
The full moon provides more light
To guide me into sight

Cool air hugs my legs and face
Warm sweat heats my torso
The dark park is silent now
I smile as moisture drips from my brow

January thru
January blue
Looking out at dull skies
Wishing you'd come to an end

January thru
Winter's true
Drop in mood
Energy subsides

January thru
Spring's crew
Planning to take us all
From the depth's of the darkness

January thru
Slippery cue
To throw us off life's course
Let's end this remorse

The answer is not on your phone..
So stop staring at it in your zombie zone
There is nothing there to see
Nothing there to help your life feel free

We go from day to day
Looking down, nothing new to say
Lost on the street and in the shops
Blind to nature and blind to clocks

Put that flipping thing away
Stop living in the afray
Look up instead of down
Look forward to life, drop that frown.

Underneath the rug
Beside the discarded crumpled crisp bag
There is still joy

Underneath the illness
Near the vial of medication
There is still joy

Underneath the hyperventilate
As panic sets in and desparation takes over
There is still joy

Undereneath the funeral pamphlet
Reading the order of service
There is still joy

Light may fade
Light may go but come the morning
Joy can be found still

She speaks without thinking
He thinks without speaking
Two forces once linked as one
Bound for social discourse

She touches without feeling
He feels without touching
Desperate to entwine
Repelled by thoughts of separation

They break without being broken
They fall without moving
Mental forces at work
Emotions rushing out of sync