Three kids in a car

Two fast asleep

One awake

It was always me

Too much to see

Sipping on the mystery

The drama of silent midnight

Abandoned buildings wet with early rain

Still broken and brown from a war I had only heard about

Moonlight on shattered windows

Papers fluttered

A pub sign blew in the wind and squeaked as we stopped at the lights

And a painted peeling 'Jack the Ripper' moved in the fog

I closed my eyes and only looked a little bit

Enjoying the thrill

Safe in our solid old car with the radio playing softly

A pea green family tank to protect me from the darkness

The sleepy watcher at the window

Who had no idea she was a writer in training!

Frustrated angry people

Pushed to the brink

Cease to think

They act

It's a fact!

A 3am wind
disturbs the fallen leaves
which once lay dull and flat upon the pavement of your day,
those might have beens and maybe yets
which dance and fly with skipped regrets,
they only blow on you it seems
to taunt your mind and seed your dreams

5am,
snuffed between the fingers of the day
slumming stars and a night not fully broken,
the waking world, its petals still to open
is filled with silent promises unspoken

The profits of crime

Are not half as sublime

As the wages of sin

So jump right on in!

Listen to the silence

As the world holds its breath

And waits in hiding

Grass grows in the streets

Parking lots entwine with ivy

Around the rusty carts

And the spaces in-between

Yellow boxes faded by sun through empty windows

No breeze stirs the pavement cracks

Due for mending long ago

Thin cats lick their dusty paws

Stretching out on the hot trunks of cars

Sleeping peacefully

Until the bold rats come out to  play in the moonlight

Skipping down the hoardings

Unafraid

And what of the thousands

Their pale and haunted eyes

Looking from behind every curtain

Radios tuned

Listening

As the world holds its breath

And waits for life to begin again

A mashed banana car crash of a morning

Messy and awkward

Words won't heal

Actions are not enough

To **** the silence

Anger heats the room

To a cold simmer

Resentment boils away below the surface

Occasionally something will bubble to the top

The elephant in the room

Lurks, as you dance around him

The clock ticks

Showing it is way too soon

For the building blocks of memory

To start their slow repairs

For now it's just a band aid

On an open wound

So deep you could drive a bus through it

The smashed embers of words that hang unsaid

And the ones you should never have used

It will settle but never leave

Someone will bring it out

Like that ugly Christmas china you always hated

Sad

But you will all learn to live with it

Eventually!

Silence after rain
no drip on bending leaves
no sound remains
no faint and whispered breath
nothing to be heard
except the wind
and a sweetly singing bird

Could falling angels

cast from heaven one by one

create as much pain as we have done?

Long ago,
when earth was clean and silver bright
an angel fell, compelled by vast eternal might
beyond all time
through endless night so brightly starred
his wings aflame his halo charred
remembering beauty through his tears
to see him through in later years

I wish I had a copy

A replica of you

One to take me shopping

One to hug me too


I wish I'd kept a copy

Now that you are gone

I wish I had that copy

But life still carries on


I wish I'd made that copy

So that you could stay

Instead I watched the real you

Grow faint and fade away

Olives are round

They don't make much sound

When slipped in a drink

Plink!

Green or black

Think how far back

Man decided to eat

This little treat

Romans on couches

Those toga wearing slouches

Enjoyed them

Employed them

To liven their food

It would be rude

Not to give them some praise

So please stand up and raise

A glass

To pure class

[I give you the olive]

To live a life unscathed
is not to live at all
the nature of existence
means learning how to fall
how can you know what's out there
if you never jump off the wall

A Butterly ***** its wings

Warm air stirs

Clouds rise

Temperature drops

Rain begins

Seeds move in the earth

Dry rivers fill their bellies

Landlocked fish dance to the sea

The ocean moves

Cool air stirs

Storms rage

Clouds appear

And somewhere

A butterfly ***** its wings!

Take all the stars to string a necklace
thread on a burning sun of molten gold
it could not please me more my love
than when I have your hand to hold

All things bright and beautiful
all creatures great and small
all things wise and wonderful
we have defiled them all
a heap of broken butterflies
dodos & tigers too
it tells us all we need to know
about wonderful me and you!

Draw down the waning moon
****** the gentle light of fading stars
take not their shine
to be extinguished one by one
I love you
let this night be never done

To change
to fundamentally rearrange
what you are,
or to alter the fit
just a tiny little bit

I have a pleasant face
nothing special so they tell me
but pleasant all the same
I have a surprisingly pleasant singing voice
ok to listen to
but not pleasant enough to bring me fame
I live in a very pleasant house
in a very pleasant place
with my pleasant singing voice
and my chubby pleasant face
If only they all knew
how I long to be less commonplace
and just for once I would like to cheat and win the ****** race!

The human mind
can be defined
as a darkened cave
from the warmth of the womb
to the chill of the grave
each thought is carried on flapping wings
by tiny furry flying things
sometimes one will fall from a claw
to grow in the guano that litters the floor
the best ideas start off bat crap crazy!

I slipped through a crack in the world

To a place where dreams lay dying

And a hundred empty bottles broke my fall

Invisible to all the stomping feet

Who would not see

Among the cans and the sidewalk garbage

You came and lifted me

***** blind and raging

Gave me wings

And mended the tear in my soul

Made me whole

So I would not fall again.

And the rain fell
grey through holes in a badly darned sky
which looked like it had seen better days
a coffee shop whine of grinding beans
mixed with the sound of irish voices
made a better day than the one forecast
and brought a little sunshine to my winter cup

Anew
is not to wipe the embarrassing stains of the past
anew is to take them with you
wave them like a flag
wear them as a reminder of your former self
a new beginning
is often wrapped in the rags of an old ending

Half of the somebody
that used to be
the widow nobody
that is me
in a whole new state
of washing up a single plate
at the isolated station
of solo occupation

In the garden stir the flowers
that whisper through the trees
a subtle hint of fragrance
fading on the breeze


Ripples over pebbles
gentle rushing of the stream
is the smile in cool reflection
that of you or Angeline


In the **** that's slowly choking
to stem the watery flow
do you find her auburn tresses
and that face as white as snow


Does she walk beside you
like she did so long ago
it was you that drowned her
so only you would know!

In the garden stir the flowers
That whisper through the trees
A subtle hint of fragrance fading on the breeze
Ripples over pebbles
Gentle rushing of the stream
Is the smile in cool reflection
That of you or Angeline?
In the binding choking clinging ****
Which stops the waters flow
Do you find her auburn tresses
And that face as white as snow
Does she walk beside you?
Like she did so long ago
It was you that drowned her
So only you would know!

My words are birds
beautiful delicate feathered things
on graceful multicoloured wings
set free to range the mental sky
they take me where
I dare not fly

Tennis racket
lost along with your skis
like falling leaves
blown into the cupboard
they stayed for 90 years
waiting for Anthony to finish the game
but he never came

Stand
before those Giant feet in sand
the ones forgotten in a foreign land
look upon the shattered visage lying there
'I am Ozymandius King of Kings
Look Upon My Works, ye Mighty and Despair'
remember well when hubris comes to call
we are nothing but a pile of wind blown dust
that's all

A tiny feather small and soft
makes little impact
when it floats aloft,
ten thousand feathers
make a bird
which sings out loud
and can be heard,
it’s hard to be a single feather
but we are strong
when we fly together

Victory wine can be  divine

A taste of defeat is not quite as sweet!

Whatever you choose to put in your glass

Finish it off then let it pass

Cork the bottle and shut it away

Drink the rest another day!

Grief is a room

It has no doors

No one can join you

For each of us has our own


You sit in the centre

On the hardest chair

Wondering how you will escape and join the world again

Leaving the sorrow behind


You take the sadness with you when you go

It is a burden all must carry

You will learn to manage the load

One of the many rocks we must bear on our journey through life


One day you will leave

The walls will know when it is time

You will see the crack of light under an exit you never even knew was there


Do not fear it

Embrace its protection

This room

Is a womb

'Green blue of the sky
heated white-hot'
Vincent saw, what we could not
captured through an artists eye
he put aside his pain
to give us fields of lavender
and glorious scented rain

Ash
falls soft
upon the name of love
the game of love
the eternal flame of love
which cools until
through burning embers
one remembers after all
how sweet it was to fall

Those loving words,
the ones that burned my living lips,
have turned to ash upon my tongue,
clinker sharp and bitter cold,
now I see that you wanted to have,
but you didn’t want to hold

Come spring
extend your hand
caress  the waiting warming land
give us singing birds on green and leafy trees
swap gale for breeze
soft light and scented air
disperse our shivering winter cares
and bless each fertile blooming day
through April and then on to May
please stay

Early morning fingers
clutching at the sill
as I lay quiet, warm and still
half awake yet wrapped in night
not ready for the coming light
which filters softly through the blind
to **** my peaceful state of mind

How long?

Four years maybe five

Still alive

Survivor of a storm

At least it's warm

And fairly flat

Except for the hill

Which I still

Climb every day

It's the only way

You could see a sail

I have to believe

That I will leave

My sandy jail

Do I need to explain

It's the way I keep sane

The thought that there might

Be a touch of white

Sailing the blue

Is what gets me through

Yet another day

As a castaway

Forgiveness
is wine that has to breathe
it needs to sit a while
uncorked to slowly warm
so that the cloudy lees will fall
and once again the glass pours clear
a sweeter vintage overall

A thousand fallen souls

They leave no footprint

Make no sound

Walking silently

On dusty ground

Following the road

That leads to nowhere and beyond

Winter has a raw and savage charm
he will not bow a knee to Spring
nor Spring bend down to Summer
for the fertile warmth she brings
and in her turn that green and gracious lady fair
makes no atonement to the Autumn
for the fruit he bears