He knew the importance of words
and treated life like a crossword;
taking hints and context to places
that he never knew were possible,
solving them faster than his mind could keep,
he was full of it,
and every letter got him closer
to his dreams of entitlement.

Oh you've solved it, all right,
but his genius was limited,
nothing but words on a page;
The puzzles? He'd just skimmed it,
and each box became his defeat
for his words would no longer speak.

He could only solve the same book;
shoulders up, blamed his luck
on his limited palette,
maybe he'd done better if he invested
in a thing like vocabulary.

A forgotten mission, a new edition,
blew around in his mind,
but somehow he never could manage
to find the time
to understand these riddles' complexity,
and so to this challenge, *he'd flee.

chocolate fireguard, teapot,
or fender, icecream sofa, dry sea
or wet towel, glass hammer,

waterproof teabag, newspaper
raincoat and umbrella, lead parachute, ashtray on a motorbike,

handbrake on a canoe,
vote in a dictatorship,
loudhailer to a deaf mute,
grief at a wedding,

****** in a monastery.
inflatable dartboard,
spoon in a knife-fight,
screen door on a submarine,

wooden soap, shortbread tires,  
knitted light bulb,
bread boat, plasticine wire cutters,
paper hole punch, water hat,

custard floorboards,
ceiling tiles made of gravy,
portrait of a bowl of soup,
a stone cigarette,

syrup knickers, hole in my bucket,
plastic oven, wax truss,
liquorice bridge,
false teeth made of soap,

lemonade roof,
jelly boots,
jam cardigan,

paper bicycle pump,
ice-cream saucepans,
soluble drain pipe,
packet of rubber nails,

see-through mirror,
revolving basement restaurant
roll-on hairspray, rubber pencil,

****** with a hole in it,
limp ****, pockets on a lettuce,
**** on a fish, lolly pop van in Hell,

one-legged man in an ****
kicking competition,

meaningless life,
unnecessary death,
forgotten words and deeds,
ignored needs,


this poem.

green, as I'm cabbage looking
red, as I'm devilish seeming
blue, as I'm sky tasting
black, as I'm painted sounding
grey, as I'm fogged if I'm knowing
white, as I'm angelic touching
brown, as I'm **** feeling

far down
into the pit of hell
as it is possible to go
and still see the stars shining.

far up
into the spit of sky
as it is possible to go
and still see the wood for the trees.

down the Dearne on a digestive,
up the Thames on a Bourbon,
down the Sheaf on a Garibaldi,
up the Don on a Flapjack.

down the Tyne on a Brandy Snap,
up the Wear on a Hobnob,
down the Severn on a Ginger Nut,
up the Lune on a Custard Creme.

down the Styx on a sunflower seed bun,
up the Lethe on a lemongrass stick,
down the Rhine on a Raisin Slice,
up the Seine on a Belgian Pancake.

tha wanna get some TN's
in, man. It'll not be well for him
if he's not got none in colour
I like. Silver and blue.

Won £160 quid, man,
on the spin. Could see
the numbers dropping.
I knew what numbers
were coming up next, yeh.
So I sets up the twenty pences.
Folk looking at me straight up,
like I'm all these flashing lights.

Lost £200 on horses.
I'll try to get another grant.
Might get those TN's.
Have you signed up
for them classes
in mental illness
and depression?

Three probation officers
drilling me, man. I broke
the tag. It were dragging.
I was going to be had up
for criminal damage, yeh.
But when I were convicted
of armed robbery,
first conviction was quashed.

These trainers, man, just
turn your foot and its
like all these colours,
ultraviolet, and all those
blues. Trainers, man, yeh.

There is so much time spent being a reservoir
A holder of the things they want us to cherish
A tribe defined by what we hold in common
Yet our differences breathe life into our individuality
I don’t know if it is that I need a passenger
Should it be my destiny to explain guide or suggest
When it is that I prefer no past
And no future
Not because of shame or death
But because these things cause discomfort
It is instead a life of calm that I seek
As it is walking with nature or the animals we care for
I can only ask if you want to fall in love
Or if there is a word that would describe me
I hope it is honor
And truth
I don’t know how it is we can agree not to be perfect
We have such a precise expectations for our life
Would it be better not to watch through a moving window
Instead we could be a part of what it is we seek
Or create it for ourselves
If only we knew how

The most valuable resource that we possess is time
And I'm so very glad I developed a love for wiring together words that rhyme
Because making that investment of minutes of your life
Can be so impactful to somebody who needs it,  we poets sometimes don't realize
The power that comes with words,  whether spoken or written
We created something,  we brought it into existence

Airports are sad places
Or at least that’s how I’ve seen them
Through my fog laden eyes
Bright, florescent lighting
Lines upon lines of people excited
Or scared to death
Or drained from the previous three flights
And then there are families
Babies who look just like their adult counterparts

And then there’s me who sees you
Out of the corner of my eye
Hiding behind a pole
I’m brought back to reality again
Back to this tangible hole
I’m elated and devastated
At the same time