They heard the whistle,
necked their ration of ***,
put away photographs, letters and bibles
and wished good luck,
then over the top the lads went
They heard the deafening rat a tat tat of the machine guns,
the shells exploding
and saw their friends knees bend and fall
Onwards they ploughed
towards that deathly sound
Heart hammering,
Keep going son,  move
Many also died , bloodied in the wire,
They had gained a hundred yards
and thought that posters
in the towns never showed this
with Come lads slip across and help
and Hold up your end
and Kitchener's famous point
What had they said?
Be over by Christmas
No ****** way
The toffs comfortable in their billets
had sent them all to die, forgotten, cannon fodder
that's all and
God has his slippers on an all

You can die from their tears
I check the board to find out
who has passed away the previous night
  and then don my personal protective equipment
  Everything has been rigorously sterilised
 I have forty five minutes to treat and care
  as we sometimes collapse from heat exhaustion      
  I care for the weakest
  first  those who cannot move from their  blood
   **** and *****
  They look at me with such pleading sorrowful eyes
  babies, children, adults, , some have the courage to smile
  I smile back with my eyes
Care is compressing and feeding
to keep up their strength
They must fight this devastating disease alone
  I disrobe and painfully flick my elastic band
  every time I touch my face
We sterilise and sterilise but you can never be sure
  Rarely there is a ray of sunshine
  I have been singing and dancing with little Kaita for days
  behind the yellow fence
  and now she is free to go home
We celebrate any little victories to carry on
  Dear God, I beg you, please make terrifying Ebola gone


  This poem is a tribute to those with Ebola and the thousands of workers who  help them. In January cases are set to rise to a staggeringly sad 1.4 million.

If you are uncomfortable when you look in the mirror,
keep in mind:
We spent thousands of years
trying to convince the earth
she was flat.

We wrote her maps as evidence of the things we saw;
and she believed them.
She cried tsunamis, and had earthquake breakdowns.

Keep in mind: the Sun never gave up hope.
The earth will keep spinning and breathing
the star-dusty space void of encouragement.

Next time you look in the mirror
and second-guess your potential divinity,
remember you will keep shining and living.

Because the Sun is out there
believing in you,
compensating for lack of the human capacity
to treat each other empathically.

You don’t need proof or approval
to be exactly what you are;
Eventually everyone will see
your infinite beauty.

I was snorkeling in the Galapagos
surrounded by diving  *******
when some fun friendly angels
visited, they had  flippers not wings
and flapped and glided
  streamlined  through the ocean
  on their backs, sides and fronts
They were curious
about me, this goggled wide-eyed beast
and would come so close
I could see their bright eyes and whiskers
I thought they would collide
but at the last second they would downwards swoop
I was in heaven at this communion
Suddenly I saw from the corner of my eye
a massive grey giant crash into the water
I front crawled away like a man possessed
The bull was probably jealous of my dalliance

Would  you swap all your poems
for those of  the finest poet in the land?
Never, because in your eyes
your work wins every prize
because they are you

Why do biopics
have to dramatise and
sensationalise?
What is wrong with the unvarnished truth
Do they think that our brains can't handle it?
Harry Houdini the famous escapologist
never hated his father
met Rasputin and never was a spy
He did escape whilst tied to a cannon
with it's fuse lit
and don't ask people to punch
you in the stomach
because that is how he died

I'm feeling black
I'm feeling blue
I'm angry at the world
and it's colouring everything I do