Displaying posts published in

March 2010

Poem: Panic Stations.

Panic Stations. . . What is the meaning Of the panic attacks, The sudden turbulence Of quickened fear and doubt. Everything is just the same As it was yesterday And all the days before And all the days before that. . .

Bringing In The Sheaves.

Hey, . It’s yet another Sunday, and it is a beautiful one. I woke up once more to a marvellously blue sky and bright sunshine, there is a bit of blustery wind but who cares! . I have fed my friends the birds too. This morning they only got a cup of birdseed from the […]

Poem: Up On The Moors.

Up On The Moors. . . There is great beauty on the moors, The pull of the open expanse The call of real emptiness. There are still secrets there Far above the steepled streets Where people sit down together To eat their Hovis bread And frighten each other With tales of real monsters On Movietone […]

What A Start To The Weekend.

Greetings Peeps, . This is the most beautiful morning that anyone could possibly ask for. The sky is an electric blue, with just a few fat and puffy white clouds and the sun is bleaching down to make everything look fabulous. . I am watching an old guy in a horrible ” hat walking up […]

Poem: Great White.

Great White. . . What good did it do me to build a boma round my heart. You stalked me like a legendary hunter and broke through my defences without even a scratch. . .

Poem: Sounds Like Fun.

Sounds Like Fun. . . Some people hanker for Japan Or want to see the Scillies Or walk on Paris boulevards To buy some naughty frillies. I’d like to see a special place, Dunno where it is exakerley, But if I had to make a choice I think I’d pick Fazakerley. . .

Could Not Sleep Again.

Good Morning, . It is still warm here, although quite grey, plus we have quite a wind. But it is still warmer so that’s OK. . I am up very early today because I kept waking  at intervals all through the night and I eventually got so sick of it that I just decided to […]

Poem: Figure Of A Man.

Figure Of A Man. . . It was a strange day To sit under the special tree Crushing down the summer grass Deep within cool shade. I saw a dark figure in the distance At the far edge of the field Standing quite motionless. When I looked again later It seemed to be much nearer […]

Poem: Money, Money, Money.

Money, Money, Money. . . It does not matter about money It has no conscience, It’s the things you do for money That will do the damage. . .

Poem: The Woods.

The Woods. . It’s a quiet world tonight Looking out onto the woods, No shine at all from the moon Just shadows as far as the eye can see. I wonder what is moving out there Deep within the tree line, Perhaps only the smallest creatures Hiding away from the dangers of the night. . […]