tongues tied inside our mouths
eyes closed to the endorphin rush
from sensations of feel and touch
as we explore the possibilities
of just how far we want to go

tongues tied inside our mouths
from intimacy to strangers now
separated by fear and trust
the spell is broken magic dispelled
what's been seen can't be forgotten

when I first tried it
on the world
it was a loud incomprehensible
yell
but they came running
pandering to my every need
though sleep deprived and ragged
I was the centre of their life
but as I grew they stopped listening
despite the advancement
of language skills
I became dismissed
an irritant
so it got quieter
reduced to a whisper

they take my blood for their machines
to analyse
the very heart of me
laid bare to scrutiny

a diagnosis
of an ill I never realised
I needed a prescription for
just to survive
so nice of them
to save my life
but I feel fine

someday I'd like to sit
in my armchair
by the window
bathed with sunlight
book open at a portal
to drift off into storyland
like Alice
down the rabbit hole

put this in the old thought engine
to mince
what if this isn't the right pen
the perfect paper
a location worthy
of provocation

a lie all this time
when somewhere there is truth
I thought already found
interlaced in these words
that eludes me
and I've never had the gumption
to look

content to carry on
a thought pattern
already designed
a mind set
already plundered

a hard cold fact
that chills me to the marrow

a possibility the machine is broken
a pause, a stutter
a halt in locomotion
sometimes the parts wear out
not made for the harsh road
travelled
sometimes a weakness will shout
to demonstrate a need for slowing
but after all we've been through
to be betrayed
this far on the journey
I'd chop you in for a new one
if it weren't for the fact
I'm human

I take the tray from her lap
evening over
blinds drawn to darkening skies
we have weathered
the fury of another day
she sleeps, and I will have to
wake her to go to bed
those rosy coloured dreams
when our bodies and minds
were young and naïve
have caved in to reality
travellers on an epic journey
we have survived so far
who knows what lies around
the next corner
for now I'm happy to do
the washing up
tomorrow can wait in the wings

I have a theory
that when the world ends
for mankind
all that will be left
on a piece of wasteland
is a Coke machine
still lit
it will sum us up
perfectly

flowers by the roadside
tell their tale
all things must end
prematurely sometimes
you move on to enjoy your day
a little lighter
a little brighter
sometime
it will be your flowers
your story
but not yet
now is time to celebrate life

as I left the theatre
she held the door open for me
the hint of a smile on lip-sticked lips
slipping into her leather jacket
to combat the cold night air
leaving an intoxicating trace of perfume
I'm just a face in the crowd
that she never noticed or will remember
" cheers " and an attempted smile
as we interacted for the only time
in our lives, but I miss her
she stole my lust
and a youth I never had

I'm going through a quiet patch
the voices have lost their urgency
turning to annoying whispers
sometimes they give me a line
and I ignore it, try to remember
then regret not writing it down
it's almost nice, the quiet
I still have the urge, but not
the spark to carry it out
like an old dog that lies
on the step in the sun dreaming
that once he could've herded sheep
but it's beyond him now
so dreaming is all he has left
but the sun is warm on his back
and there's always tomorrow

wherever men gather
there is the hierarchy of deceit
there are those that know
those that think they know
and the sucker
who's the **** of the joke

wherever men gather
there is the hierarchy of the beast
there are those that rule
those that think they're in charge
and those who shelter in the shadow
of all of the above

wherever men gather
there is a code
wherever men gather
high or low
never to tell the secrets
they all know

in the end
every warzone looks the same
eyeless broken buildings
personal possessions strewn
across rubble scattered streets
the odd house
against all odds still standing
the sudden shock of a body
the husk of a life
where is the victory
where is the glory
why do men have to break so much
just to say they won

never too near a vein
the pills
left where they can be found
and always someone on hand
to save the day
your silent shout
heard by distant crowds
who want to help
but don't know how
one day you have to realise
just how ******* mundane
life is
then you can join in
with the rest of us

when we were young
everyday was an adventure
the farthest we could walk
the fastest we could run
ten minutes was a lifetime
when a lifetime was just begun

no guilt could outweigh us
no conscious could ***** us
sleeping blameless sleep
only our own dreams to keep
darkness hid no demons
because we had never met

but then the world moulded us
told us to be responsible
sensible, obedient, subservient
we could be whatever we wanted
if lines were towed, rules obeyed
it was our oyster to be enjoyed

but with clipped wings
we can never fly
the appearance of a freedom
we can never find

you reach out
but the journey is too far
and I have not the faith
to go the distance
the void between us
is a chasm I can't bridge
it's not you, it's me
all the old excuses
it is easier to be alone
than to try to share time
open some doors
push some boundaries
all this potential activity
is met with my weariness
of all the times
I've been let down before

the sound of the ice cream van
evokes memories of summers
wearing shorts on hot tarmac
which you can almost smell
the heat coming up on your legs
a blast of warm air and fumes
as an engine fights the heat
to bring you your chosen treat
passed from an impossibly high
window already dripping onto
a hand that you pray won't drop it
coldness on the tongue anticipated
but still not ready for just how cold
something can be in contrast to
the baking sun on the back of your
neck, mission complete ritual satisfied
until you hear again the Pied Piper
like chimes of Greensleeves outside

the cherry blossom blooms brightly
nature smiles on deserted streets
leaving a carpet of pink to colour
the desolate lonely landscape
it's like an empty welcome home
begging for the normality of children
playing among the flowers, commuters
enjoying the colour of a bright spring
morning on their way to work where
work is no longer an option
the trees will fruit from the poison earth
only the birds will enjoy their bounty
man no longer a part of what was once
a home, a life, a sanctuary

what scares me most
is the crazies could be right
the **** stirrers and cynics
could have a point
what if the non believers
have the truest religion of all
what if the doomers and gloomers
hold the light
and the true path is oblivion
into meaningless night

when time was something that passed

rather than to be grasped
finishing post in sight
chequered flag on the sat nav
telling you you've arrived

when time was acres of summer sunshine

not pollution coated air, holes in the ozone
worrying about global warming
but still building building building
for the future they say....

when time was your own to cherish

not jobs to do meetings to attend
places to visit but not really see
bills to pay questions to answer
a debt to honour for the ever after

when time just existed
it felt like forever
now there's no forever after

the defeated man
sees the possibility
in grey skies
the hope of sunshine
cleansing rain
the defeated man appreciates
a moments silence
kept from useless words
empty promises
failure is a trophy worth winning
now life can begin
now it means something

these are my coward shoes
we have walked many a mile
leaving trouble behind
unafraid to lose

they are comfortable and warm
with a slight smell of deceit
to be a coward you lie
keeping your happy feet

eggs
jug, broken shells
in the sink
Radiohead wails OK Computer
from Alexa archive
Jack glugs from a freshly
unsealed present from my wife
am I hip like Motorhead
or just another tipsy old dad
I wonder what Urbex explorers
would discover if they
crawled through my letter box
into this mess of a kitchen
onion makes me cry
something I never did
as a child
cheese and ham
how much **** can I cram
into this frying pan
an alchemical cupboard
of herbs and spices pervades
my sense of smell
am I brave enough
should I have beans
I’ll only eat half a can
people are starving somewhere
out of date packets call
do you feel lucky punk
but sliced beef for **** sake
who can resist that
a forgotten sandwich
never made
the truth in the pan
unmixed ingredients
never mind says bourbon head
it’s all the same
gas ring ignites
north sea pipelines
fishermen risking their lives for
for Brexit quota lies
the fiery grill, another bourbon
once you pop
small one in a big glass
carnage of packet autopsy
for the morning after
waits

we build a bridge
one brick at a time
that will hold our weight

so we can run into
each others arms again

will I enter the kingdom of heaven
through pearly gates
or a crack
in the garden fence
will I take a stairway
Led Zeppelin like
or an overgrown path
that's hard to trace
will there be anyone waiting
to welcome my earthly trace
or will I have to find
my own imperfect space

or perhaps there is a highway
that leads to a warmer place

I will scratch that itch
and she will devour my anger

in a room dimly lit
we play back half a relationship
like it's something we deserve
or even dare to understand

I'm sorry I'm so much like you
that you want to live through me
my alabaster features
from the same old block chipped
spitting of your image
if images could spit

I'm sorry I'm so much like you
because I wanted to be me
experience days, months, years
not a predestined journey
with footsteps I should follow
treading in your expectations

so that one day when I'm not
the dream you had for me
I become the disappointment
in your family tree

the sky is being stolen
so that so much human soup
can high rise
to live above one another
a hierarchy to whisper
in God's ear

sunlight fills the cracks
illuminated grouting

I see clouds skitter by
I'm a prisoner
jealous of their freedom
wishing I could fly

I have looked upon his face
so many times
on windows that he graced
pictures on pages of the pious kind
relied upon his mercy
when all else failed
while calling his name in vain
after some ill or painful wound
but I have never looked
him in the eye
for fear that true belief
might trespass in my mind

waiting for the miracle

burning candles at both ends
on the alter of time
hanging out with false friends
the blind leading the blind
enraptured by belief
that we all have our chance
dreaming through existence
that some may call a life

waiting for the miracle

to be like us
stamped on, tortured, beaten to dust

a jealous rage that yells
at the gates of perceived equality

you want our world
then have it

you were beautiful
unique
mysterious

so welcome
now you're not

can you see the girl
as she traverses the street
a world of hope
on heavily grounded feet
she walks in shadow
she walks in light
the hope of creation
the burden of love
where she is going
we can only guess
she can take us with her
for the want of a kiss
to get to know her
walk in her light
or follow behind
in the shadow she casts

If I ever make it
these books will burn
I don’t want anyone to know
how I suffered to make
the good stuff glow
like a photographer
shooting a thousand frames
for a keeper
I want people to think
it flowed
here to entertain
not the sympathy vote

I became hard
not like a man
but like a stone
impenetrable
camouflaged
a pebble on
the beach
able to blend
in with all the
other pebbles
and let the tide
wash over me

how do you feel

the silence weighs heavy between us

gone the friendly how ya doin’
for which I had the stock
I’m fine how are you
now we’ve brought real emotion
now we’ve opened a door

I really haven’t a clue
I’m a little sad
because winter makes me feel that way
among the trees shedding leaves
something dies in me
there is the loneliness of Christmas
from when parents wanted the cuckoo
to leave the nest

I’m happy when the sun shines
casting smiles among the shadows
I’m afraid I’ll live this day
with the disappointment of any other
little achieved in too short a time

how am I
I feel like
a hurricane in a tunnel
a fall on a spiral stairway
a dark stain on a white carpet
an accident in a car park
a raindrop on the windshield
of a moving car, an unseen shooting star
a baby feeling hunger for the first time

I feel like I’m going to burst into tears
for no apparent reason

I feel the money for this hour was wasted
I’m leaving going nowhere

they can steal your mind
if you're not doing anything with it
make the thoughts inside your head
voices we all deny we can hear

I feel love trip on the stairs
carless footfall of a suicide damsel
I see love fail in comfy chairs
the silence of a Netflix series
I taste the end of what seems like
a lifetime of omelette Wednesdays
I hear love crackle with all the excuses
of working late phoned from pub car parks
it's faint call from the bedroom door
"are you coming up to bed soon love"
the click of the refrigerator door
***** of another cold one the psst
of a bottle opening giving it's solemn "no"

a drug addled brain
wrote this refrain
I can relate
but never realise
the need to scratch the itch
where the needle went in
to release this vision
from a troubled soul
of pure thought
I will never know
the suffering it brought

they all leave me in the end

I love too soon
without knowing what love is
I want to express it
see if I can wear it
know if I can bear it
but it is unrequited
weird even

and they all leave me in the end

I write lines that are sublime
I write lines that aren't mine
words are written on the page
by my hand but not my mind

they are going to save the world
one protest at a time

but what they don't realise
is the world doesn't care

billions of years gone
it will never end

same old circus
but the monkeys get changed

heavy hearts in empty homes
vacant seats on empty thrones
we travel for to be alone
the world revolves cold as stone
horizons draw us with our hearts
we have to see we have to know
but in the end we always find
we're better off among our own kind
the decibels ring in my ears
blank out the noise of inner fears
if we all shout that we are brave
perhaps none of us will be enslaved

I watch the rat boys
trip the light fantastic
across once well manicured floors
of forests of wood and panel
lined walls graffitied with
the signature **** and *****
language that would not
have been tolerated in such
hallowed halls, falls easily
from lips accented with Yorkshire drawl
appreciating architecture they can
(like the rest of us)
only dream could be their pad
their crib, their humble abode
with a taste for the gothic
or art nouveau
they are lookers, explorers
nosey little toads fuelled by
an unquenchable curiosity
to see what's behind that fence
that hedge or garden wall
if you find them in your house
you are a ghost, for they hunger
only for the derelict, the abandoned
time stopped in a moment preserved

slowly I process them
like tracks on a record
giving nature a helping hand
to enhance the music of light
and as I sit and look at them
they sing to me of memories
of Welsh hills lit by God
brought home as a moment
I can play over and over
until they become the soundtrack
that always makes me feel
I'm alive

a sculptor
I chip away
making some form
from time
changing shape
then direction
sometimes the hero
others the villain
whatever it is
I leave behind
I know for sure
will never be finished

close
like next to me
emotionally touching
I love you
close
like a door
slammed on an argument
a last word
finishing a relationship
ending a meeting
how funny the English language
so much room for misinterpretation
so much scope for joy
or crashing
disappointment

my ship has sailed
I waited all my ****** life
for it to come in
and now I turn round
it's on the ****** horizon
heading into the metaphorical sunset
admittedly it was only a metaphorical ship
anyway
but none the less
I've missed it

"I cannot help you
with this publication"
it said
a closed door
a full stop
even an exclamation mark
you are swimming with the sharks
trying to run
with the wrong pack
basically you're a loser
your work just doesn't cut it
I recede back into
my protective shell of defeat
enclosing me
with the force field
of self denial and hate
here I am safe
nowhere to go but down
failure such an easy road
I travel with the crowd
all rejects of the elite
unwelcome in their kingdom
worse than unbelievers
we are the unbelieved in

the clatter of machinery
invades my bedroom
as rotors defeat gravity
for as long as fuel allows
someone's on the run
headed for the woods
at the back of my house
why do they think the
darkness of trees and
undergrowth will hide
them from infrared's
all seeing eye, their
journey to freedom
is about to end dramatically
under spotlight
I've got to get up for work
in under four hours

I envy you
your suppleness of body
tuned muscular perfection
poised between
a creature of land
and a creature of water
shimmering with almost naked
beauty, you dive a perfect ten
into my imagination