poetry is much like a themed fancy dress ball
once you have your clothes on
its easy to get into character.

Fire and smoke
smoke and mirrors

Mirrors and disguise
fire and ashes.

with a cap on back to
front a well known brand
tattooed more than clear skin
ear rings ****** rings ringed fingers
rings in places intimate
gold teeth golden necklace
and sneakers costing far too much
to wear while sporting any kind of
sport ears plugged in to somewhere other
than where you are physically
a card to get you anything anywhere
and a bill the shape and size of America waiting
on the door mat back home.

Bone dust
skin flake
to rot
rotten
in
the Earth.
Womb
Mother
cradles
her
children
breast
milk
all
dried
up.­

Tiny speck with very limited time scale
riding into the future on unstoppable disco ball

living next the sea full of life and plastic
on knees often praying for God knows what

I desire to be an eternal 'alleluia' a thanksgiving
in heart and mind this tiny speck in time and space
, singing 'Alleluia'

when you sing out your thanks
"Alleluia" leaves your throat:
the heart of the Universe rejoices
with all the Angels and Saints.

deep in time
in mind

hearts beat
their song

on lips
singing

Alleluia!
Alleluia!

each word freely given
a voice to sing

Alleluia
rising

from tongue
to wing.

happenstance,
coincidence,
chance,
luck,
fact,
fiction,
faith,
all ends
with death.

after a given amount of lived years
all fashion is retro

who would ever have believed
not I for sure

Happiness could be found in a key board

I come from a generation
where the only ones to work a key board
were called Secretaries
and they were all female

All ferries are cancelled making way for the storm
tied to their piers, rocking back and forth, back and forth
ropes pulled tight, taut, no mail today, no fresh supplies
this is Robinson Crusoe life lived alive in the 21st century
a time set aside, cut off, forgotten by the rest of the World.

Rain hits the windows with a vengeance
two whole days held at bay by the sunshine
but now all floodgates are open
and the birds stay at home in the dry.

As we spin and tip
the Sun comes to visit
longer each day.

An old friend
the Sun from first
times.

We feel the touch
and see
how much we are loved.

Winter gives way
gives up her reign
all for love.

Patience and perseverance
people power
pebbles and ponds

hugged tight by wonderful life
these eternal moments
fulfilled in loves keening
all for you love says, all for you.

We need the teenage idealist
to help offset our growing apathy.

Major cannot do without minor
and minor is where I am comfortable
at ease, serene, peaceful, most useful.

The Sunrise in stealthy silence
spreads across the meadow

and my mind accepts its skull
will outlast all minds Earth consciousness

bide its time in the grave
a thousand thousand Sunsets

will come and go until the final Sunrise
bursts open the grave of the Earth

and all her buried skulls
will explode into space.

wind is master of today
blowing off the Atlantic

she brings purity of breath
makes the Sycamores dance

all huddle in their nests
creatures one and all.

you can get lost out there
when everything is moving
and you are sitting still
when all in flux is fluxating
inside your bony capsule

upshot, consequence, end game
future best guess
all in the mind of mice and men

Most wave on our island
we wave as we go by
Some hands
refuse to wave
often wonder
what affliction
could cause
such limpness

I would venture that tongue is a pretty universal appendage in most creatures
but its only Mankind that trips off lies and flattery and backstabbing all in the same breath.

I wear Adams DNA
feel the space where I miss one rib

can taste that fruit that everyone says was an apple
whereas in fact it was no such thing(check it out)

every snake I see I can hear a serpent hissing
knowing I could be dinner

all my clothes are eaten by moths
no matter how much I hide my nakedness

the sweat on my brow drips into my eyes
blinding me to my folly

I work and acquire, work and acquire
all in vain and false labour.

when your national mouthpiece is a tool
with the depth of mind of a spoilt child

she sings of the Moon
cups stars in her eyes

the Sun sits on her palm
as she watches the Earth turn

all her lovers are gone
weaved into her heart

the night is long
as the day is short

poetry sings in her ear
- all is beautiful.

heat seeps through the walls
all is calm
Orcas patrol the sea
just down the road
one neighbour dives for coal
spilt out the many wrecks
I wouldn't be him
for all the coal in China

All is gifted.
Where all is thanks.
All is offered up.
(In union with Jesus nailed to the Holy Cross)

You stripped off your skin
moving within the ether
where imagination roams.

All is possible here
the fantastic and the weird.
Falling in love.

Its a poets world
not everyone goes there
as often as us.

Coming back into your skin
with tell tale signs
written upon your heart.

where voices fall into whispers
whispers into silence
on a poets breath all is song.

all is tucked in comfy
waiting for the story;
expectant child
knowing love

I am the male sleeping in beauty
am kissed by life awake every day
groggy sometimes too early to function
like a prince all dressed and ready-
for whatever may come my way
dragging half remembered dreams
around my space and time thinking
while slowly looking what's happening
out the windows of mind and building
yes I will be king soon of all I survey

slowly but with purpose
we tilt toward the Sun

light spills ever longer
into the shadows

all is waking
to follow a star.

you can plummet through the layers of consciousness
find yourself deep, all a sudden somewhere other
transported as if by magic, a dreaming, a reliving.
You are not the same as you were, you have experienced
many, many, things. And you take all with you, every time.
Standing on a platform, waiting for a train, running into
a very old friendship, and you wonder just what it is
what you need to learn, what's being said, why you find
yourself back way back when, all it seemed was a coincidence.

up close and personal all faults and failings
jump out the closet the moment my back is turned
bolts out the blue are just that and there's nothing to be done
its a crippler no doubt about it and we are all just hobbling along.

detachment is a beautiful road
all lined with flowers

a way to see beyond the mountain
and follow the flowers home

Every struggle is a diamond
set in the crown of victory

Each heartache awakens
the need for love

All love is destined
for eternity

you jumped from reality
into fantasy
the fantasy was all mine

white-out-sea-fog
envelopes all
sounds of ghostly
goings on
somewhere out there
along the invisible shore
a man calls to his dog
and seagulls answer
grounded unable to fly

I never sleep at night
the dreamlands claim my mind

propel me head first into strange stories
at once familiar and unknown

sleep would be welcome
- a kind of forgetting

but it seems dreams are written down
and I must act them out.

advances in science
science in advance
love will share all mystery.

being under suspicion of using AI
not sure if its a compliment or not?

the coming together in union
the understanding of frailty
all on the road but of course
not all at the same location.

Silence slips in between all other voices
waiting patiently to be heard
with sealed lips,never forcing itself.

all our trains are arriving together
fast slow fast slow
it matters little
all our trains are arriving
together
fast fast slow slow fast fast slow slow
it matters little
all our trains are arriving together

muted voices rounded up and schooled
all the local children are back to their books
no screams of delight and noisy games
can be heard in our small community this day
summer holidays have come to their end
only their ghosts remain all at play
in the memories of all our yesterdays

Flustered.

All out
of control.

Let go
be.
Be.


Be

be


Child
be.

nothing happens by chance
you rolled another six
but its been ten years
since you counted that many dots
and you feel all out of luck
but nothing happens by chance