i find delight in the spider
he of long and spindly leg
that floats in air as a glider
affixed to silken string o' web

concentric circles in straight line
affixed with spokes from hub
dripping glue of deadly shine
to catch the flying grub

in centrepoint, without a breath,
he sits with pincers poised,
ready to deal blow of death
in lethal void of noise

with patience, as ship in berth,
he waits, with glee 'n mirth
sits very still, grin suppressed,
to welcome unwary guest

the slightest tremour from his trap
sends him racing to his food
in cocoon with zap and snap,
mummifies unfortunate dude

and when he's ****** out last saliva
of life and meaning from his caller
he retracts as deep-sea diver
to the depths of fatal mauler

there to bide his time again
until the next crashing plane,
insect flies into his den
and 🕷 smiles and nods, 'amen'.

Stop press!
I confess
for wedding-band
i did not stand
nor for my rights
to scale life's heights
to spend my nights
with set sight
my soul's delight
who shined so bright
upon my midheaven

oh yes, i regret,
my life's meander,
i'll not quick forget
that living wonder
drop o' thousand rainbows
secret of green meadows
more delicate than a buttercup
graced by angelic dewdrop
why did i not tell you
not send you billet-doux
about the million sparks of you
that shine upon my heaven

cherub so fair
raven black hair
eyes azure
as grandfather
face radiant
perfect, pure, true,
features salient
i remember you

with tiny hands 'n fingers moving
there you lay swathed in pipes
in distress from convolut'd tubing
not from teething or testinal gripes

in ICU unit of babies diverse
at mercy of overworked nurse
no sound left your mouth, no whimper or cry
when they said you had predilection to die

when no-one was looking, your face turned blue
from lack of oxygen from outside to you,
no-one noticed as your life slipped away
none there for you on your last day

In gelid breath of winter's night,
Shadows chase a fading light,

Beneath grey moon,
the stars are still,
No warmth to break the biting chill,

Through frosty winds and icy rain,
In cloak of winter's harsh domain,
As landscape wraps in frozen frill,
Another victim in frigid ****,
A helpless world lies still,
In winter's grip.

First came the credit crunch
As millions lost their stash
And scammers on a hunch
Helped the markets crash

Then came Brexit,
Dividing the nation,
Lies like sepsis
Spreading altercation

Next with classic whiplash
Population took some dives
As Covid became a smash
And millions lost their lives

Roller-coaster aint yet ended
we've got some way to go
As Putin's got intended
And Trump laughs **-**-**

Let's hold hands now as we duck
Coz the next one's gonna hurt,
Wish I could turn clock back..
The future to avert ...

In haze of wintry pallor,
Weighed by days gone by,
My memories flutter,
Once pristine, like cloudless sky,
now, beleaguered by heavy sighs,
they fade one by one b'fore my eyes.

Where dreams once swelled
they now falter. Quelled.
Fated to die.

Yet where they lie lingers a shadowy breath,
With echoes eternal beyond the setting sun,
Beyond the quiet of creeping death,
Emotions as a tapestry spun,
Newest fingerprint of the One.

Dawn is knocking at the door
Peeping through the curtain
I turn, pretend again to snore
But sleep's gone for a Burton

Heavy-eyed I eye the clock
Squint and try to focus
It's not yet gone five o' clock
I lie back feeling hopeless.

How many hours of beauty-sleep
Brain attempts to calculate
Maybe I'll try counting sheep
Running wild, jumping gate.

Must have snoozed off, pretty sure,
I eye the clock again,
Long hands pointing to the four
Short hand to the ten!

Can't be true,
beggar's belief!
I look anew,
sigh with relief,

'Twas the second hand
Now on eleven
And the time?
Twenty past seven.

eyes piercing as arrows shot
deadly with venom 'n menace
tie my heart in double-knot,
nerves as vine on trellis

shaking, delicate, easily hurt,
by look, word, cutting 'n curt,
reaches deep, to stomach 'n innards,
hotter than red poker, colder than blizzards.

humanity that can heal and love,
a ray of God's golden sunshine
can hit 'n ****, push and shove,
server of devil's malign.

the way is clear
the choice is yours
be a light in heaven's sphere
or a darkness on the moors.

In the forest, deep and ancient,
Where the whispering winds do wander,
Where the rivers, swift and silver,
Sing their song in seeping sorrow,
Stood the oak, of mighty ancients,
Still, its silence, strong 'n steadfast,
Gnarled roots deep in highland soil,
Mighty arms stretched wide to heavens,
Stretching arms of ancient sages,
In the war of wisdom waging,
Witness to the passing ages,
Solace to the aged bearing,
Tidings good to those who carry
Light to cleanse the dark and shadow,
As from east, the dawn approaches,
Dawning scarlet's silver glow,
Sure as leopard 'pon her prey,
Soft of foot upon the meadow,
Soft upon the Morning star,
Ishtar in her morn arrayed,
Shinning 'fore the four-horsed carriage,
Bids adieu to the darkness,
Adieu to deepest night,
With presage of hope and courage
Bows 'fore brightest, king of light.
Brightest dawn in fire resplendence,
Night surrenders to the day.

he walked along cracked, parched earth,
stick in hand, bent over,
gone were the dreams of youth and birth,
gone was resilience and fervour.

life had ****** out all vitality
no tears could be wrung from his heart
all was dry, all banality,
how he longed now for fresh start.

too long he'd walked along perfection,
not stepping on someone's toes,
too long ignored his own connection,
had fallen on his nose

he had laid himself wide open
to pink and pinch and ***** and punch,
now he saw the path a-slopin'
heading for final crunch.

he saw a rope, a saving line,
but had no strength to reach it,
so slid he down steep incline
his life and blood long-leeched

and now, at end, at finish-line,
he walks a crooked walk,
he cares no more for life's decline
nor those of crooked talk

there's a veil flappin' beckonin',
he knows now he must go,
he knows there'll be a reckonin'
for his play in the show

but he's had enough of fakery,
the double-talk and sham,
he welcomes break from apery
the falsehood and the scam

and as he neared his last few days,
his step 'came spry 'n sprightly,
for he could hear the songs of praise,
the sun that shone so brightly

for from the mist came love and truth,
a smile he used to dream of,
so he skipped to that new-found youth
and left the world that seemed of

down into the valley of death
went two hundred and fifty five
into the mouth and jaws of death
into the jaws of hell.

Was there a man dismayed?
Not that the soldiers knew,
(Someone had blundered.
   Theirs not to make reply,
   Theirs not to reason why,
   Theirs but to do and die.)

For they'd come in their ****** brigade
marauders in planned coup,
burnt the children with parents alive,
wrapped with wire of hate,
***** the girls as thousands died,
bullets spelled checkmate.
  Theirs not to reason why,
   Theirs to suffer and die.

sliced off fingers, gouged out eye,
sliced off *****, left to die,
Theirs not to make reply,
  Theirs but to bleed and die.

They left no vestige of life
Where they plundered with murderous knife
Flamed the houses with kids inside
Laughed at the screams as they burnt and died

(Someone had blundered.
   Theirs not to make reply,
   Theirs not to reason why,
   Theirs but to do and die.)

down into the valley of death
Went two hundred and fifty five
into the smoke of bomb and canon
into the smoke of hell

'there's none so queer as folks',
me grandma used to say,
'for different folks there's different strokes'
i'd hear from other blokes.

'to make a world takes all types'
said me aunt one day,
that's what i think when i see the stripes
that different folks display

everyone's an individual,
an' everyone's distinct,
and so to each their ritual
stops 'em going extinct

Uncanny world 'tmay seem
but that's its wondrous beauty
to everyone their personal dream
their sense of divine duty.

so fill yourself another drink
'n pour me another shot,
let's celebrate and clink in sync
to the weird strange things we've got.

what would breath be
if we did not inhale
if breath had no break
but as water of lake
was still and eternal
no rhythm or change,
vernal, sempiternal,
no beat nor range,
diurnal, nocturnal,
no give or exchange,

what would sound be
if it did not dulate,
if it did not have waves
that flow 'n oscillate,
if it was continuous
without vibration,
if its sphere of influence
had no fluctuation,

what would light be
without pulsation
with no shadow or shade
or variation

it would not be hell
nor heavenly bliss
but stagnation and smell
of eternal abyss

or the light of the Other
Unknown to another
Self unaware
no here and no there
forever the same
He of no name.

I dip my quill
Into the ink
And wait for it to write,
Thought starts flowing,
Letters appear,
As sweet fire ignites.

Letter begets word,
And word - image,
Creating worlds old and new,
Magic of words
Combines with mind
Enchant you as voodoo.

From my mind,
The words flow,
Guided by rhythm 'n tempo,
Through my arm,
Into a pen,
Rising to a crescendo.

Like musical notes
There is a beat,
A tune the poet hears,
With dexterity
He arranges
Sweet music for your ears.

Quill, quite dry,
I let it rest,
Peruse rhyme manifest,
Mind finds pleasure
To read at leisure,
And sweet rhyme ingest.

loathsome stink,
the stench of mundane,
suffocates spark.
the pull of body,
fingers the neck and squeezes.

soul splutters,
spirit flounders,
hope is all but lost.

Yet whisper laughter,
and light flickers,
in moment, eternity,
life into shadow.

Then it passes.
corpse lies still,
as spirit lives on
in choice of host.

the tender heart was open
sensitive to the touch
now in blood it's chokin'
can only take so much

they lie on my couch and reminisce
and call to mind what's amiss
i feed them with ideas of light
that turns their thoughts sunshine bright

and whilst it's them i try to heal
it's really me that's beginning to feel
life's manageable, there's a way out,
action speaks loud and it's got clout

so when you're feeling down in the dumps
from life's travails, its humps and bumps,
when you're in receipt of dark deceit
of sorrows that turn to bitter the sweet

helping others is a way to trump
the things that make your heart go thump
it's a therapy like no other
the help you give to one another.

they say you marry your mother
i don't know whether that's true
but every time i hear another
scolding from my shrew
it's mother's image my brain conjures
shaking her finger anew
i hear her voice through wife's responders
A feeling of déjà vu.

"you're not made of glass," he said,
no. glass cannot die. I'm dead.

"you gotta be more joyful," he quipped,
try it when you've been slipper-whipped.

does no-one understand?
is there no-one here?
in this bitter land
does no-one lend an ear?

when you've been crushed and daunted
abused, smeared and taunted
your soul remains haunted
believe me

after pain, sling 'n sting
you forget how to sing
a broken bowstring
cannot stand king

believe me.

i'm broken.

sun set at midday,
you closed your eyes, breathed your last,
stole my breath away,
your time went too fast.

the sky was azure
blue and pure,
the air was light,
untouched.

at break of day
when angels sing
when pixie, fay,
still fearless swing

amongst the harebells and the snowdrops
beneath the moss-lined wall
in liminal state, when world has stopped
when silence is its shawl

i ventured out onto the moor,
towards the river bank,
there I saw great beasts in tour
heads hidden as they drank

a host of ancient dinosaurs
sauropods fifty grouped
gigantic reptiles, herbivores,
their long necks steeply stooped

betwixt the sand and pebbles,
framed by trees of yore,
i saw that gathered 'ssemble
on edge of hallowed shore

but when i neared the mise en scène
behold a change took place
for in their place by field green
Canadian Geese took chase

And, as one mind, with charm and grace,
they fled those banks of water,
as they set sail from place with haste
away from scare of slaughter

and now, each time i spy a goose
i think of that occasion
when in their place i saw let loose
an antediluvian invasion

there's a noose around my neck
and it's getting tighter,
tick-tock ticktock pendulum
the old swinging blighter,
free at last from corporal shackle
spirit's so much lighter
free at last from crackle-hackle
the ol' cursed backbiter.

I once knew a boy
Blue-eyed wonder
dressed in corduroy
and knit-weave jumper

he'd go amongst the laurel
in hidden, shady paths
surrounded by leaf 'n floral
sheltered from the blasts

of domestic quarrel
shouting and loud noises
he'd speak amongst wood-sorrel
and he'd hear the voices

of his own whispers
to his own G-d
he'd say his own Scriptures
upon the ****** sod

that boy is still around
buried beneath burnt ember
sometimes when i make no sound,
he makes my soul remember

One ray brightens a thousand mirrors,
One sun lights a thousand lights,
One sea feeds a thousand rivers,
One bad 'un makes thousand blight.

One kind word illuminates world,
As lighthouse, or banner, newly unfurled,
One mean word or palaver
Drapes the universe in balaclava.

One good deed begets another,
and that other has a brother,
and so the goodness will multiply
to rid the world of sorrow 'n sigh

Let's quench our own selfish nature
By realising we're all G-d's creation
let everyone be humanity's saviour
before we cause our own cessation

the music in the wood
sweet rustle in the trees
there's a blackbird and a thrush
whistling in the breeze

the gurgling of the brook
clear water runs its way
the squawk of duck and goose
reveling in its spray

sunlight glints off wings
of the mayfly and its mate
there's a fox i see swift running
in the hedgerows by the gate

and by the gate lies the horrors
of grey cement and death
the rushing of the traffic
that suffocates baby's breath

the coldness of the person
who cannot spare a smile
a helping hand or word
to the beggar or senile

whilst those in a torpor
tend to parry the capricious,
those with vigour,
invite the flighty 'n ambitious,

but as in all themes,
these two extremes
have a golden mean
that lies in-between

the middle way is to move with grit
along a forethought plan,
when things get hard, not to quit,
but stride with resolve as a man.

the people, in jostle,
of divers emotion,
eddied by current,
eternal motion,

this one pushing a nascent life,
this one pushed by trouble and strife,
this one sniffing his way to heaven,
this one sniveling twix six or seven,
this one's nose high up in the air,
this one's tripping with jazz a-blare

discordant melody that rocks the earth
surrounds one's life from home and hearth

happy's the one who attaches to spirit,
thinks instead of repeating like parrot,
material of life to disinherit,
dissolves the chains, the collar of garrote.

In the quiet of dawn,
Shadows yawn,
As the tome turns over a page,

Here no leaf is torn,
none too worn,
For every side is an age,

Each whisper of wind,
neatly tinned,
nothing assigned backstage.

Each life is drawn,
whether king or pawn,
politician, fool or sage,

Heartbeats recorded,
the clean and the sordid,
As the ink bleeds through veins on the page.

i didn't find G-d in study houses
when i went for him to search
nor on the lecterns of pulpit rabbis
nor neath arches of the church

i found him not amongst the folds
of priests' robes and their cassocks,
nor in design of braid and gold
of curtains and the hassocks

i didn't hear him in the cries
of prayers, no, nor their sighs
nor in the swirling of the dervish
or the mass or jumah service

but when i lifted the old man's bags,
helped a beggar in dirt and rags,
gave bread 'n shelter to the drifter,
then i heard His voice, a whisper.

there's a heartbeat in a second
eternity in a moment
time lives till he's beckon'd
to surrender his endowment

in the shadow
of a rainbow
through the prism of divine
in the soft light
by the window
sits a woman in her shrine

there she paints
among the saints
that like the sun and stars do shine
in the night
when all is faint
her expression of divine

free of slander
golden candour
gives her voice to yearning pine
shining bright
as shining amber
caught in moment crystalline

Late night
little rest
Midday bite
caffeine blest

Little wonder
Creativity
torn asunder
unto passivity.

Truth will last
Falseness will pass
Crumble, out cast,
As dead, dry grass

But what till then the buildings
the edifices built on lies,
how much blood and killings
will they cause on their capsize?

the air is stretching balloon's confines
till, of a sudden, pop!
but pity the persons it defines
all heading for the chop

knock, knock,
who's there?
then again,
Couldn't care

I'm lethargic,
mind can't think,
Standing on
edge of brink

someone catch me,
Anyone there?
Anyone love me?
anyone care?

G-d, I beg you,
heed my cry,
G-d I need you,
'Yes', you reply

I hear you say
'that's all i wanted,
to hear you pray,
"L-rd, I'm daunted"

I can't alone
I so need you
nobody else
at all will do

yes, i'm flawed,
You made me so,
I'm a fraud
but good also

so, yes, I'm saying,
i may be swaying,
but from Your Grace
I fall to Your Face

For in the depths
Of the darkness
in back-steps,
when sky is starless

there I know Your hand in mine
there my tears in Yours entwine,
and when i hear Thine Heart beating
I'll know the reason o' mine entreating

that when things are bright
and things look right,
I'm really far
from seeing Your Might

and when i dwell in lifetime's night,
I know that dark adjoins to bright,
and as the moon reflects sun's light,
i know the sun will end the night.

and at the end,
when things unfold,
all will ascend
as of old

for the prophets told of things exemplary
that will be of You testamentary
that all will behold Your Face in reverie
as no more will this world bear stench of treachery

and as past and future fore You are one,
in this moment, it's all begun,
revelation of Your Face,
and in this darkness is Your Grace.

Sinking, drifting out so far
How I wonder where you are
Once a world that aimed so high
Now curled up and ready to die
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are