Round and round the ragged rock
The ragged rascal ran
He knew not of the point o it
Or how he had began

The rock it was enormous
And though he'd only been round twice
It felt like several days had passed
The sun set at least thrice

On and on he kept
Unwilling to maintain But unable to stop
On this vast remote empty beach
Around that ******* rock

His beard it grew
His feet they blistered
But round and round
He still persisted

There was a lady somewhere
Outraged her care worn thin
But that can't be it surely
What was driving him?

He wore a rut into the sand
That became a trench
Had she put a curse on him That cruel vindictive witch?

He limped now in agony
Circuiting his narrow canyon
Till a freak tsunami wave
Gave him peace
And drown him.

iiii
don't even know
the name,
love's gallop
colors my poems
with just one color,
to recover
to spring
to eruption
to falling
heavy snowy.......cleaning.

There must be strategy and tactics
If they are not the same thing
Spacing pacing
Distribution o sizes
What does it take
To win all the prizes?
Is it resist first or tug?
Or maybe give it a shove
Oh no that clearly won't work
Blitzkrieg or endurance test?
As you sweat there in yer vest
It may seem completely manual
But it helps if you have read the manual.

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******

forget the critics
the naysayers
the reviews

forget those who pounce
at first glance with
unsolicited feedback

forget those who wait
with serrated edges
for the unveiling
of your back

forget those who lambaste
and castrate your creativity

or worse, those who
try to help you
improve it

and then there are those who
uplift and support your work

say thank you
and
forget them
too.

forget about polishing the knobs
off the editors of poesy or
the literary brotherhood
and sisterhood

forget about your friends,
your enemies and
your audience
all together

they are a cough drop
trying to cure an illness

do it
the way it was meant to be done:
without obtrusion
without approval
without asking

don’t allow them
to cloud your mind
with judgment
of any kind

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******.

You've got to joyfully participate in the sorrows of the world
Not matter what the cause
There's no polishing a ****
beauty is in the eye o the beholder
Children should be seen and not heard
What does it profit a man who gains the whole world
And loses his soul?
The only way to stay moss free
Is to continually roll
Many a  slip twixst a cup and a lip
A single step the start o a thousand mile trip
What goes around comes around
Now that's deffo not true
Jimmy saville
Are the words
That I have for you.

All of a sudden
Is a phrase that
I keep thinking of
As if it
Could
Spark something
That would make
Me worthy of
The people who went
Before
Those that kept keeping on going
To give us this point
On which we keep failing.

Ozzy's not quite the prince o darkness anymore
No more coke no more ******
The road miles and habits
Have piled on the damage
Hardly surprising
The man was a savage
His lower colon
Is now like liquidised spam
Sharon has to deal with
The diarrhea of a madman.