A sobering thought
The death of an alcoholic

Not some bridge-squatting ***
Unkempt and unclean

A family man
With a good job
And a mortgage

But no liver

A long weekend
Waiting for news
    "Not looking good"
            "Deteriorating"
        "Just a matter of time"
  "It is done"

We cannot speak 'it'
Too soon for that
So we talk about 'it'
Without saying the words

You couldn't live without the *****
You couldn't live without a liver

So we have to live without you

It's that time of year
When the holiday comes around
And I've trawled every shop in town
For trousers that fit me,
And suddenly it hits me
As I'm waiting to board the plane
That all the stress, the going insane
To get away is the only reason
I need a holiday this season

So I'm sat at the gate,
Six hours early because I'd hate to be late,
Despite living fifteen minutes away
And I'm passing the time reading a book
But my wife is giving me that look
That says she's bored, won't be ignored,
She expects me to entertain her
And I'm going insane (again)

Roll forward past an eternity
Of clock watching,
Of people watching,
Of checking the departures board,
And finally we're boarding
And finding our neat little seats
Specially designed with pixies in mind,
With storage space for a mushroom
And no noticeable legroom that I can find

The stewardesses trundle their trolleys
With offerings of lukewarm tea,
Bitter strong coffee,
A small selection of dusty dainties
And days old sandwiches
(Credit card or cash, Sir?)
You expect me to pay more
For what used to be free?
No thanks, just the lukewarm tea

Lurching to a stop after a bumpy drop,
I whisper a prayer of thanks
To the gods of pilots and engineers,
Resist the urge to shout three cheers,
Just the scrummage in the aisle
And a fight for the overhead space
To retrieve the frilly lace
Handkerchief that somehow exceeded
The airlines stringent weight limits
For my hand luggage permits,
Incurring an additional fee as a penalty

The airport signs indicate the way
To an endless corridor of rotating
Carousels, a new kind of hell
Where strangers stand shoulder to shoulder,
Giving no quarter as they wait and wait
For the baggage handlers, who went on a break
The minute the plane arrived,
And until they've checked inside
Every likely looking bag
For cameras, iPhones and valuable swag
They'll keep us waiting and anticipating

This time we got lucky,
All the bags arrived, most of them survived
Intact, though one was so bashed
It looked like a giant had smashed
A heavy boot down, just to make us pay
For going away on holiday
A quick run past the customs men
With their sidearms and sideways glances
And we're free and clear in the outside air

We join a rank queue of sweaty fliers
At the rank queue of sweaty cab drivers
And wait our turn to learn our fate,
Which cab will we get to hate?
We've taken a second mortgage on our home,
Lived six months without a phone
Or electricity just to save enough cash
For this last mad dash,
A quick hop to the hotel,
A quick prayer that the linen won't smell,
And one final night of broken sleep
Before the going is complete
And we have officially "Arrived".

My love desires but ev'ry dream
Love knows and holds love tight,
Desires and carries on our dreams
But holds on through dark night
Ev'ry love our dark yearning takes
Dream tight, dreams night takes flight!

In the morning when you're thinking
Of the chores that lay ahead,
When the shower water's freezing,
When there's numbness in your head;
And the telephone is ringing
And there's someone at the door,
And the neighbour's dog is singing
And there's toys strewn on the floor;
When the kids are all a-squabbling,
When their music is too loud;
When the car has trouble starting
And it makes a knocking sound;
When you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day would pass you by

When the office phone is ringing
In the middle of your Zoom,
And the coffee tastes disgusting
And your client's a buffoon;
And your secretary is waving
As she tries to catch your eye,
And she's holding the receiver
With a teardrop in her eye;
And her frantic face is straining
As she passes you the phone,
And you hear the desperation
In the voice that calls you home;
When you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day would pass you by

At the school gate is a circus
And you think that you're the clown,
And your feet feel far too heavy
As they scrape along the ground;
And the sirens are a-wailing
As the uniforms go by,
And you feel your nerves are failing
And you dare not catch an eye;
And the headteacher is waiting
With his head bowed to his chest,
And he beckons you to join him
And he leads you from the rest;
And you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day would pass you by

And his words impart a sadness
That you cannot understand,
And you're staring at your fingers
As he's holding tight your hand;
And you see a policeman crying
Huddled on the stony ground,
With his colleagues standing by him
And they never make a sound;
And you walk across the carpark
And you walk towards the spot
Where the ambulance is waiting
And your stomach's in a knot;
And you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day had passed you by

And the doctor grabs your shoulder
As you stand outside the room
Where your broken child is laying
In the dimness and the gloom;
And the vest they wore this morning
Is ******* up and on the bed,
And there's tubes still in their nostrils
And their sheets are stained with red;
And he's talking and he's talking
But you don't hear what he said,
Just the faintest understanding
That perhaps someone is dead;
And you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day had passed you by

Just this morning you were thinking
Of the chores that lay ahead,
With the shower water freezing,
And a numbness in your head;
And the telephone was ringing
There was someone at the door,
And the neighbour's dog was singing
There were toys strewn on the floor;
And the kids were all a-squabbling,
How you miss that happy sound;
And the music they were playing,
You would love to hear it loud;
And the car had trouble starting
And it made a knocking sound;

Can you breathe one heavy sigh,
And have this day just pass you by?

Beneath the window, shadows paint the hill
And rooftop solar panels feel the chill
Blue eyes are drawn down to the river's flow
The Derwent sweeps majestically below

Across the water, shadows stretch and climb
The twilights of the city start to shine
Above, the mountain cloaked in cloudy stripes
That race along above the ***** pipes

The setting sun now sets the clouds on fire
A fiery orange blazing funeral pyre
It lights the heavens with a mystic glow
As nature plays her perfect picture show

The colors shift and swiftly turn to red
As bloodstained cloudy fingers start to spread
Then in an instant, beauty is undone
As darkness falls above the setting sun

Oh lonely code thy process all forlorn
Loops but to toil in thankless servitude
Unpraised for wit but savaged with ill scorn
At each found bug or flaw that thou exude

Yet if thou fork and then do spawn a child
A mother's mirror born of innocence
To share life's load, transactions reconciled
In mutex'd memory twixt each paired instance

Thy yield increased would empty buffers make
To give thee pause to take a cycled breath
And running on anon until a break
Or Control-C brings unto thee a death

An orphaned child thy memory would keep
Or die, or zombify in restless sleep

I chanced upon old standing stones
Bedecked in lichen green
Arrayed in banks of marble rows
With walk-ways in-between
Each bore the scars of craftsman’s graft
Recording time and toll
One fading remnant epitaph
For each immortal soul

And earthward bound the sun polite
With mountain cap in hand
Fell silent as the hearse of night
Rode forth across the land
The distant city lights awoke
Like lanterns on a lake
A bubbled haze of smog and smoke
Above the city scape
 
Large crowds of late-night shoppers milled
Around the late-night stores
And roars of drunken laughter spilled
From dingy nightclub doors
The squealing cries of lorries lade
With goods to stock and stack
Were echoed by the cramped stockade
Of dwellings back-to-back

As one by one the lights went out
In windows dark and dim
Arrayed in banks of brick and grout
Old dwellings grey and grim
Stood sentinel to souls entombed
In plots devoid of green
The living mass of those inhumed
With walk-ways in-between

Arise!  Arise!
Oh wingless serpent
Oh jousting knight
Gleaming in sunlight
Arise like Samurai
Mounted on a steed
Of deadly sins
Arise and greet the morn
As wives grieve and mourn
As children grieve and mourn
As husbands grieve and mourn
Oh world, grieve and mourn
Our fallen knight
Our fell serpent
Our seven Samurai.

If I would ask these things of thee
Wouldst thou compose sweet poetry
And carve our hearts in symmetry
Upon a cherry blossom tree

Wouldst thou accept on bended knee
A vow to love but only thee
And sacrifice thy liberty
In service and in sanctity

Wouldst thou endure the changing sea
To chart a course that none foresee
To drift to see what e'er we see
Beyond forgotten shore and lea

If thou wouldst do these things for me
Our hearts would bloom in sympathy
And love, my love, I'd ever be
Thy love who scribes thy poetry

Son of Zeus-Ammon,
How thou reined, arrayed and reigned!
Thy name lives anon.

A sheet of paper and a pencil:

    Einstein would amaze the world with mathematics
    
        Picasso would astound the world with art
    
            Dickens would enthrall the world with fiction

                What would you do with yours?

Insipid hour I dread your looming call
Condemned waiting for thee inside this cell
My days will end when finally I fall
Down the abyss as summoned by your knell

In life the mornings ever found me bright
An endless optimist of no reproach
So how I fear your vast and empty night
My mind asunder doomed at your approach

I beg a dream to fill the lonely void
To reach inside to see beyond the veil
Yet even sweetest dreams are still devoid
Compared to morning light they shine so pale

Consciousness fails, my soul is yours to plunder
Until the morning saves me from deep slumber

Rest peaceful 'neath a dusk-kissed brass engraving,
Atop the climb a stony path has reached;
Look down on all the troubles you were saving,
Thankful you rarely practiced what they preached.

There lies one in Rome
With whom all England was blest,
Whose bright star came home;

And if thou wouldst roam
To seek for all that is best,
There lies one in Rome

Beneath stately dome --
A spirit too young to rest,
Whose bright star came home

And whose living tome
Gifted the heavens their crest --
There lies one in Rome

O'er seas laced with foam,
Whose words still quicken our breast,
Whose bright star came home --

His name gleams as chrome,
Where water writ his bequest --
There lies one in Rome
Whose bright star came home.

How I fell for you?
The dull hit of a bullet,
A clean through and through

To sip vines brew and ponder thru a night
When night alone knows naught of loves sweet cheer;
To toast a love with feelings e'er contrite
And know tho’ love is gone that love is near;
For love is twine that binds two lovers twinned
Not as a fettered shackle on the calf
But holding two as one against the wind
Then two as one stand stronger than each half;
So tarry not when night has lost his crown --
When chorus breaks to herald first suns praise;
Tarry thee not unto a waiting gown
Of warm embrace thru many coming days;
        One night is all yet still one night is long --
        Night bear love swift to where love doth belong

Love is like a rose —
It hastens hearts a-tingling,
Tickles all your toes!

Friendships fade to throes
As hearts begin a-mingling —
Love is like a rose,

And each day it grows
It sets your nerves a-jingling,
Tickles all your toes!

Your skin brightly shows,
With blushing blood a-sizzling,
Love is like a rose!

It tweaks on your nose!
And sets the stars a-twinkling,
Tickles all your toes!

Do not fear for woes
Of love that ends a-dwindling —
Love is like a rose,
Tickles all your toes!

☀ ☺

    ☁ ☂ ☔ ☹

        ❄ ☃ ☺

            ☀ ☃ ✞ ☹

                ☕ ☺

A stylish beauty born of elegance
So full of life, so wondrous to behold
How sweet the perfumed fragrance of romance
Beguiling timid lovers to be bold
The velvet softness of your petal skin
As gentle as the fall of purest snow
Such vibrant colors, where should one begin?
The white, the peach, the red, an endless show
To name a thing is but to give a name
Yet names are naught but locks wrought with no keys
Constricting like a portrait picture frame
That fails to capture aught but what it sees
        Yet in the end I’ll name you I suppose
        The beauty of a perfect English rose

Whether thou art true as

        ((to be) or (not to be)),

Or false as

        ((a summer's day) compared to (thee)),

My love for thee is a tautology.

Upon the bridge
Upon the bridge
And proudest of the three

The mighty bridge
Stands on the bridge
Upon the Devil's lee

Him swift to gloat
With forking tongue
His path above the scree

Until his goat
Was bitter stung
By woman's trickery

O! Such our lot in life that we must choose
To wander lonely 'mongst the desert dunes
Thru shifting sands with e'er unchanging views
Till sanity abandons us as loons --
Or yet to wander love's relentless road
That wends a lush and fertile tributary;
No - Not alone, but sharing of life's load
To laugh and mock the loons we thought to be --
Yet those who know that ev'ry road must end
May choose to wander lonely o'er the sand
And thru their maddened eyes may comprehend
What those upon love's road won't understand --
At journey's end, love's toll must take it's dues
And those who never loved have naught to lose

If hempen cloth to paupers garb is made,
Grey daubed as hearth'd ash, rough as firewood kindling,
And for each king, gold silken raiments laid,
Bright as the jesters smock for courtly mingling,
What garment fit for thee Clotho would make?
Unto her spindle all threads are first woven,
And of thy lot? Why, Lachesis would take!
And gift to Atropos to see thee cloven!
Who then should fret to say my garb is drab?
Tis not thine outer skin three fates have wrought,
So of thine self, judge not thy bone, thy flab,
For in thee, fates have spun all thou has sought!
    Thy measured lot was cast afore thy waking,
    And strength in thee to set the heavens shaking!

The boldness of a beauty fair
To conquer love, to take his bow
And loose his arrows in the air
To watch them fall to strike a blow
On one with who one's love would share
To watch them fall beneath the blow
And gasping for a breath of air
To stand and take a final bow
So falling to a beauty fair

When tanks sit empty
Outside refineries,
Every drop of blood and oil
Spilled and spent

When the world is plunged
Into pre-digital chaos,
Knowledge trapped forever
In e-books and emails

When civilization collapses,
Falling on empty bellies
To the desperate cries
For help in the darkness

There will still be fools
Running down abandoned streets,
Struggling beneath the weight
Of large-screen flat panel TVs

The longest night
        must fade to shortest day and morning light
        must bring her ill portent for summer days
        cut short (they will not pay) when widows wake
        to wail their long lament

Her fingers stretch
        to touch our icy cell where walls play host
        to ghostly shadows cast of bars of
        iron cast (they will not sell) and brings her
        lamentation unsurpassed

The dinted straw
        retains his slumbered shape to taunt my
        tortured mind, I hear the screams of pity in
        my head (they will not wait) and dare not sleep
        to find him in my dreams

I cannot dare
        to hope yet hope I must till hope for hope
        has fallen into dust

Dark summer days
            when woe is full in bloom, when men of mettle
            bend beneath the load of doleful doubts, backs
            broken by the gloom, heads drooping low from
            stress and strains untold

Rake up your strife,
            rake troubles in a heap, uplift the rug,
            sweep sweep the grime below, and in a sack,
            stuff all the ills you keep to bursting, till
            the sack must overflow

Trundle your woes
            down to the market square, set out a stall
            and hawk to trade your wares.  Like-minded folk
            are cloistered everywhere, imploring you
            to give your sack for theirs

Well friend, would you
            exchange for the unknown, or else relent
            to take your own sack home?

I can hear the music all around me,
The thrum of long-boat hulls against the shore,
And drummer boys with stockinged feet resound me,
And heavy hammered horse shoes pound the floor,

And gunners with their twenty-ones astound me,
And diggers crash their picks into the floor,
And cannoneers launch volley fire to pound me,
And bayonets clash like cymbals on the moor,

And fighter pilots boom above to ground me,
And tank commanders rumble to the fore,
Submariners slosh water up to drowned me,
And infantry sing heartily of the corp,

And all around I hear their music roar,
The ghosts of all our heralds gone to war.

Stars tell white lies each night, they wink and lie
And promise us our dreams, the dreams they steal
Away into a sunrise, to conceal
In leaded pots where rainbows go to die;
And when the careless night comes by the by
And shouts: "look up, look up!" the stars reveal
Your hopes, dreams, thoughts, a future so unreal
That even hapless lovers dare not fly;
And still they wink and whisper every night
As if to tell your secrets, tell your dreams,
The very things they promised not to share,
And left bereft you wonder how it seems
You ever trusted to that distant light
Long whence the stars that lived and died were there.

My genteel shepherd,
                                                      F­ondly I recall
The beauty of your Lignon, where we'd share
Neath monuments around your stately hall,
A fleeting moment free from any care.

Embracing midst that noble rustic arch
With marble stone emblazed with bas relief,
Where Poussin's likeness captivates the heart
To tell the tale of Arcadia's grief,

Those shepherds and their shepherdesses gaze
Upon the tomb, Utopia's demise;
Their faces full of woe for darker days,
As humbly now, your servant bids goodbye.

        Yours always, in memoriam and so,

        Adieu,

                Et in Arcadia ego.

Upon a lofty perch
Nestled warily
He waits

A gargoyle
Still as stone
Unflinching

Trained eyes
Gazing far below
Ever watchful

The forest swaying
Willows leaning
Over a dry river bed

A murmur
Among the trees
Awakens senses

The prey approaches
Flanked by willows
Unaware

Still he waits
Transfixed
Hidden

Swiftly swooping
Three sharp shrieks
Sing out

A lofty perch
Left with empty
Broken shells

Willows weeping
By a river
Flowing

He ventured forth upon a lofty quest
To seek a beauty told in legends tale
A maiden whom no man could e'er behest
Tho' many tried, but all were doomed to fail

Whilst resting weary on a low-slung ledge
Aside a pool, its surface calm and clear
His eyes were drawn down to the water's edge
And in reflection, spied that she was near

He found himself held captive in her stare
Her hissing voice, her clawing fingertips
How wild the snake-like tendrils of her hair
Her sharpened fangs revealed by venomed lips

Too late, he turned to find his love had flown
And e'er since then, his heart was turned to stone

This is the Field Marshall, tall and grand,
Who bellowed at Generals beneath his command,
Who shouted at Brigadiers in fine attire,
Who hollered at Colonels to make them jump higher,
Who screeched at the Majors and caused them to shake,
Who yelled at the Captains to keep them awake,
Who squawked at Lieutenants to keep them in line,
Who wailed at the Sergeants in double quick time,
Who shrieked at the Corporals and made them feel small,
Who screamed at the Privates worth nothing at all,
Who stood in the trenches and will never forget,
When they ran a man through with a fixed bayonet,
And held his hands tightly, as watching him die,
They whispered to no one, *"Oh why, but oh why?"

A book without a cover,
No pages and no ink,
That I alone discover
Each time I deign to think

Each line a shared adventure,
Each word a tender kiss,
Each chapter I remember
Reminds me how I miss

The things you never said to me,
Our ending incomplete,
So perfect in my memory,
My love, you can't compete.

How green the grass beneath my feet,
A vibrant gown with verdant strands
Of earthly fabric, grown replete
With woven blades from nature's hands;

Yet envied eyes look from this scene
To distant hills in far off vales,
And dare to dream of fairer greens
In secret glades down hidden trails;

Yet still my eyes do strain to pry
O'er oceans and the briny seas
Where jaded mountains clamber high
Above the glistened emerald leas;

Yet here beneath my weary feet,
This green green grass is where I'll stay,
And when my days are all complete,
Beneath this grass is where I'll lay.

Ah, memories, capriciously you choose
Such wondrous moments worthy to retain;
Important things, so oft' you're apt to lose,
Yet how you cling to those that brought us pain.
You offer but a glimpse of yesteryear,
And fill the gaps, with things which might have been,
So oft', we find it's never truly clear
If what you show was real or but a dream.
How can we trust that what you say is true,
When all we know is what you choose to share?
Do you record the tales of things we do,
Or conjure up our stories from thin air?
        Without you, all my past would cease to be --
        My life is naught but one long memory.

Upon the wing above an ancient oak
Two love birds soared and swooped towards the ground,
In harmony their tender voices spoke
And sang a tale of all the love they'd found.
With gentle grace they landed on a bough
And bathed in sunlight while they stopped to rest,
A rustling breeze blew softly on their brow
And billowed lightly on their feathered breast.
With deadly eyes locked on their perfect frame,
Both unaware of their own mortal plight,
My arm outstretched I took a careful aim
And hurled a stone which took an evil flight --
    The joy I hoped to find turned swift to sorrow,
    No song of love will bless this oak tomorrow.

Does not the rain kissed garden fair the fairer?
Untamed sunlight wouldst wilt the brightest flowers,
As love unchecked might bring to bear the bearer
And feast to bite the mind it swift devours!
When darkling clouds loom storm-like over thee,
Weather thy thunderous rage tho' thou detest it,
Love sallies hence and makes a bold decree:
"No cloud is e'er so dark love cannot best it!"
Light shines its brightest in the dankest dark,
The better then that thou should plainly view it,
So of each storm make light with thy remark:
"Love is the light and darkness shall renew it."
        If thou wouldst doubt it so thou knows love not,
        Love knows it still long e'er these lines forgot.

I've passed my past,
My whole collapsed
Into this moment,
Now.

My days long gone,
I soldier on
With just this moment,
Now.

How can it be that all of me
Is held within a thought,
The days I've had, both good and bad
Are gone and count for nought.

So is this it?
Is this all I can be?
Is this all life had planned for me?

Am I lost in a moment where all that I was
Is what happened?  Because
If I am then the wars that I fought
Were for nought.

I am lost,
Lost in the moment and I yearn,
Yearn for a change.

All I was
Was lost in a moment and I've learned,
Learned life is strange.

Now that I'm here,
Now that I've come to this moment and found
That my life in this moment is good,
Understood, for a brief single moment,
I know that I'm here,
And I'm here for this moment of joy.

But why?

Why did it take so long?