A Night's Insomnia

In through the blinds
Moonlight shines in parallel lines
Transports my mind to another time
Childhood and it's lively naivety
Moments in a Cumbrian house of haunting shadows
Minutes on a Manx mountain surveying the kingdom
Hours breathing in burning turf across an emerald bog
Days on Cornish cliffs overlooking wild Atlantic surf
Weeks in camp holiday camps with red coats and florid faces
Months in class rooms of education
Years learning to grow from boy to man via adolescent angst
Decadent decades decaying to austere anxiety
It's all in a night's solemn insomnia

Selfish to Sell Fish

Why do fleecy tracksuit wearers always look sheepish?
Why do cows sometimes look bullish?
Why wasn't Gregory ever peckish?
Why aren't odoriferous fishmongers selfish to sell fish?

Flawed Paws

They refuse to conform to feline laws
Prowling his lawns with flawed paws
Fouling his garden their sickening cause
Howling in desperation he clutches at straws

24 bottles of water are scattered
Neighbours whisper, "his head's battered"
Pussycats shitting 'til his nerves are shattered
His life in tatters, nothing else mattered

You Can't, You Can

You can't hear birdsong if you tweet too much
You can still be liked without Facebook's crutch
You can't find EVERYTHING on Wikipedia
You can still be fulfilled without social media

You can't be an individual and a clone
You can view the world without a phone
You can't sail through life with a holed boat
You can enjoy the rain with a decent coat

You can't trust politicians and their lies
You can seek the truth, integrity, the wise
You can't change the world and all it's strife
You can take a righteous path and enrich your life

You can't lose when you find a way to unwind
You can meditate, breathe, open up your mind
You can't find true love if you close your heart
You can be caring and considerate...at least that's a start

Two Hour Chihuahua

A diminutive dog ran away
During torrential Manchester showers
He was later found cowering
Amongst pretty spring flowers

120 minutes later his owner showed up
A local resident with a face so sour
The evening news later ran the headline 
"The Troublesome Tiny Two Hour Chihuahua"

Destination Unknown

Which of life's metaphorical roads are you traversing?  
Stopping and starting like the M25?
Fast, then slow, then slower, then stop

Maybe, the undulating streets of San Francisco?
Gradually ascending to highs
Then descending sharply back to new lows

Could it be Route 66?
Passing through deserts then unexpected attractions
In an ever-changing climate

Others are negotiating the bustle of New Delhi
Pushed into perpetual motion
Avoiding collisions at every turn

Some are on a "B" road in Norfolk
Flat and featureless
But with wide horizons

When you pass your final traffic cone
Believe you can leave a positive legacy
When you finally arrive at destination unknown

Genuine Fake

Whether days are short
or days are long
our most difficult task
is to admit we were wrong

We're all prone to human error
we can all make a mistake
better to accept our honest shortcomings
than strive to be a genuine fake

Share Your Dream

If you share your dream
I'll lend you my thoughts
I'll mark my crosses
Against your naughts

I'll give you half
Of my quarter of sweets
I'll watch with you a sunrise
When night and day meets

Give me poetic licence
I'll pay you with amour
Shame we don't speak French
Like Frances de la Tour

If you give me a break
I'll put you back together
When you have nothing to say
I'll talk about the weather

There may be only two of us
But we can make a great team
Glad to have lent you my thoughts
Thanks for sharing your dream

Dead Poets Walking

Too many poets' stars rise
After their earthly demise
Planted words dormant
Waiting and waiting
Waiting for history to nourish their legacy
Flowery language of redundant words and phrases
Blooming into view
An exotic edge alluring
To the ear of modern parlance
Love and marriage
Body and soul
War and peace
Timeless material for the creative scribe
In spirit, dead poets' words live on
Many living poets' recognition
Will only come to fruition
When they too are long gone

An Unlovely Bunch

Racing white Audi's with black leather seats
Overpriced apartments and penthouse suites
A sickly smell of success mixing with ill-gotten gains
Steroidal meat-heads mixing with talented brains

In the south of the city runs a shallow stream of consciousness
Eating and bleating with an air of pretentiousness

Using both barrels of their double-barrelled name
Patronising, condescending and lacking in shame


The clamour of materialism, I want, I get, i-Pad
Swaggering past the homeless, a sight so sad
Many are privileged sons and daughters of the rich
I'm sure he's a bastard and she's definitely a bitch


A low paid workers week's food spent on a throwaway lunch
They may have the money but they're an unlovely bunch