Mud is good,
Its dead good mud,
It's in me blood,
But where not understood,
Us people of mud,
In the shadow of a gas tank and born on a Mersey bank, I lived on cobbled streets dark and dank,
I played on a ship that sank, and for anything else I wouldn’t thank....... you
On king street docks, girls in cheap frocks, curly locks, time tocks, the boat rocks,
The tanyard smell made life hell for all that dwell, under the bridge,
In Garston L19, it’s the scene, its clean, it’s where I’ve been, it’s not obscene or green, if you know what I mean.
Its community security sincerity and every other word that ends with erity,
But it’s fallen apart,
Don’t lose heart.
I go into town when I’m down, it clears me frown,
I don’t go in me jarmies or me dressin gown,
There’s men with round bellies, toddlers in wellies,
Posh ladies gather in their marks and spencer swagger,
There’s scouse brow teens, sunbed queens,
Hunks and punks, lonely drunks,
Suits in boots forgetting their roots and hens in *****,
Big issue sellers, statue fellas holding golf umbrellas,
Coz of all the rain,
But it’s all good, coz we come from mud,
Let’s cheer, why?
Coz I’m here,
I’m me, me names T, and me hubbys P me best friends she..... lagh,
I like coffee and toffee and Roger Mcgoughy,
I like statistics logistics eye shadow and lipsticks,
I like bags and wags and cigarette ****, but not beer,
I’m fine on wine if I take me time,
I don’t do a line, unless I’m hanging me washing on it,
I work in a bar, not far, I don’t drive a car, and I don’t say Lar or kid or lad or lid or mar,
I’m proud and loud, don’t live on a cloud, and I don’t follow the crowd,
I’m a mum to some, I’ve got a big round ***, but I’m me you see,
I’m not square, I dye me hair, I swear but you can take me anywhere,
Coz I care,
I’m good,
I’m mud; it’s in me blood,
Understood

By Christina Ford

Distant island shapes beguiling
Floating ghosts of far off land
Appear sentinel as we lay
Hot and sunbathed on the sand.

Scorching beach has tricked our minds
Ever beckoning cool seas flow
Finely placed as time stands still
Myths of people long ago

Heat above the deep caldera
Yet at water’s edge a breeze
Every wave a stroke of calmness
Drags the black sand out with ease

Pushing, combing lava rock
Once a liquid burning hot
Hearts massaged by the tender noise
Deep sighs as the day burns on

Windy gusts caress unclad torsos
Smiling we hold hands out to catch
Throwing our heads back with the pleasure
Letting our warm brown frames collapse

Lazy resting towels on bodies
Sunbed dreaming, time for lunch
Decisions on the midday menu
A carafe of red or white, too much!

Later when the sun’s behind us
Deserted beaches for the night
Couples then prepare for evening
Soon tavernas come alight

Poolside dwelling welcomes back
Two weary souls from day outside
Scorching sun takes all about us
Thanks for love where we abide

Since we came and soaked our souls
In this perfect atmosphere
Love has blossomed even further
All is wonderful never fear

Patio evenings lying out
Herb aroma fills the nose
Drifting in and out of sleepy
Eyes feel heavy in repose

Cool wet noses brush our legs
Warm fur strokes a silken pass
Feline friends have come to visit
Glad that we are home at last

Nervous ******* lying still
Mewing loudly all surpassed
Two so gentle but true survivors
Bright eyes hiding traumas past

How lovely to have given respite
As more and more attached we grew
Warm and tender stroking softly
Alongside us as if they knew

I want to tan
I want to sit in the hot mid day sun
and install a sunbed
to add that extra crisp
to my birth marks
when I fry

I want to pop pills
I want to do hallucinative drugs
like mushrooms or acid
and gamble with my mental health
because I can
it is mine to waste

I want to smoke
I want to inhale the perfume
of cancer
and begin self-destruction
my own revolution
in small steps

I scuttle of into the sunset
my pillows my sunbed
my blanket suns warmth
the pools in my head
I’m swimming a length
my book I have read
my body is spent
this day was a long tread
I’ll sleep back to health

I took this ******* a date to the Purple Pakora,
Lil did I know how much this girl would order,
I met her on tinder-loo, she orderd a vinderloo madras and a korma
What the actual tandoori duck ??  how many animals does this ***** wanna slaughter?  
  
I'm already thinking **** how much they gonna charge me,  
When she puts  an order in for another 12 oinion bhaji  

I could stop what was going on,  
Next thing I know she wants a side order of poppadom with extra ******* yogurt on  

Then she looks me in the eye an says " shall we get a starter coz I absolutely love a chiken tika masala  

Holy ****,,,,, ****,,,, god dam!!!  
Now to wants to try each different  flavor of naan

10 cocktails that didn't even touch the ******* coaster,
Then she goes " I'm on a diet. So I'll just have 1 vegetable samosa
  
Burn a hole in my pocket the size of the equator,  
And she didn't forget to tell me to tip the ****** waiter

After we left this girl wants to party
She goes I'll come with you if you get some charlie

All I got to eat was her sunbed barbecued punnani,  and that ******* tasted like a gone off seafood biriani,,

BEWARE!!!!

A colorful life,
something I’ve never known before,
only the shades of blue,
which can get repetitive after a while,
but one day I found you,
and you painted me wholly in yellow,
like the rising sun is
between palm trees in Montana Ave,
Santa Monica sunrise,

you’ve done so many things sweetie,

you replaced the wallpaper on my soul’s walls with a new one,
turning the landscape behind my window into an oil painting,
it’s because of you N.,
you brought new hues into my boring world,

and you know what?

I was wondering lately how would I look like if I were a painting done by you,
I’d probably be writing poetry on my sunbed,
and in the distance there would be the sun going to bed,
but I wouldn’t be gone by moonlight,
I’d maybe bathe in the cool water after dark,
so many places where I would possibly be,
and all those things I would do,

and it all thanks to you.

I thought it was you,
but I wasn't certain.
One last glance back,
your sunbed definitely empty,
  towel crumpled / empty shell
I follow you out to sea.

Squinting; without glasses
I cannot tell if it's you.
Your head bobbing.

Alone.

The hazy afternoon sun
creates dancing ripples
of horizontal light.
As I swim nearer,
still uncertain,
I see you - but you as a boy.

Suddenly, I feel the same intense love
I felt when little you would stumble
back into my open arms
  laughing / crying / needing
needing me.

I reach you, but I see
the fine young man
you have become.

Floating together,
smiling at one another,
I am filled with a sad pride;
family holidays were always too short.