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

A shiny halo can work loose
and when it slips
it becomes a noose
your sainthood lasts until the day
the rest of us see your boots of clay!

The price we pay to be free
is all that we have to give
no matter in what cause it is shed
blood in the gutters is always red
buying liberty
is expensive
taking it costs more

Can water know
when it flows and drips like rain
through the palm of your hand
does it understand
and feel for the drops that remain
to linger
on your freezing fingers

She’s been gone
for so long
we are different now
much older
and perhaps a little colder inside
because something in all of us died
when she did!

Paint me the cold of midnight
or dawn in the hills,
mix me the feel of fresh grass
under tired feet
and the smell of rain
on a long and dusty road,
boiling rage
or the sweet sweet joy of relief
blend me a colour
for the things my eyes cannot see

We have to deal with the emotion
and the fear we have built up in over a year
of being inside
the internal wrecking ball we try to hide
from our nearest and our dearest
when on zoom
as we try to pretend that they are in the room
so now we get to meet in the sun
and to have a little fun, from a distance
at the insistance of the men in grey
who are supposed to be leading the way
back to reality and some form of normality
will we make it this time
climb up and out
lose the doubt and the lack of trust
I guess we must
learn to smile
but it might take a while

The poem bird
a stubborn thing
of fickle wings
and shuttered beak
that will not sing
decided he would fly
he left the nest between my ears
and never said goodbye!

Count up raindrops or snowflakes or tiny grains of sand,
way too many to hold in your hand
each one unique and perfect in its ubiquity

Jazz is a free flying bird which sings
you cannot clip its scarlet wings
passion mixed with ice and fire
the burning flame of sweet desire

Find me
feel my pain
mend my soul
make me whole again

Touch me
calm my fears
hold me close
catch my falling tears

Love me
hold my hand
talk to me
try to understand

I don’t know what will heal the world
see the colours of hope unfurled
maybe we should ban all flags
the universal rags
of sovereignty
those emblems of pride
which divide
what part belongs to you or to me
where even the sea is chopped into bits
so it fits very neatly and oh so completely
into tiny bites
with regards to fishing rights
that say where we can sail
you can go to jail
or face a huge fine
for dangling your line
into someone elses pond
we are way too fond of the
walls that were provided
by any empire
who decided
it should all subdivided
so it could take the best
and fling out the rest
like meat to a dog
while they hogged the mineral wealth
that they took by stealth
how proudly they planted their pennant
became the sitting tenant and saw it wave
over the graves of the people they had enslaved
pretend separation of each earthly nation
what is it for?
to stop us going to war?
we can be entirely sure
that wouldn’t work
because it’s happened before
maybe we need a long cold drink
and a post-pandemic think
about what we could do
to improve our sprawling human zoo
and bridge a divide that has become way too wide
it won’t work, it’s political suicide
but consider the millions who have died
did the virus follow orders
or stop at any borders
no, it jumped all the silly dotted lines
that we use to define what is yours from what is mine
and after all if not under one God, we are under one sky
so we could at least give it a try!

Feed the flame
lead don’t follow
show the way
be the candle
that single burning spark
shine a light
into someone else's darkness
and illuminate your own

Freedom smells of coffee, you don’t have to make yourself
or do the washing up after
freedom has a view
that isn’t your garden
freedom is the clattering of cutlery
and plates in a kitchen
that is not your own
freedom is other people
their noise and chatter
freedom is asking them to turn the speaker down
because you want to talk
to a friend that you haven’t seen for ages
without a screen in front of you
or posters saying 'wash your hands. on government advice'
freedom is whatever the hell you want it to be
because it is yours and that is being truly free

To live only in the present
means you battle the storms of today
without a coat or a hat
you cannot plan for future weather
without the rain of the past
experience is an umbrella

Stuck coming down the slide
since lockdown made my *** too wide
when I was bored and trapped inside,
eating home made cake and bread
has caused my lardy bits to spread
I should have munched on fruit instead

Smiles
hidden behind miles of printed cloth
weddings and the Christmas we called off
people we loved and held dear
everlasting warnings have led to national mourning  
for things that have gone and cannot be replaced
and we have chased the rainbows that appeared
on every window, every door
what was that for
to make us feel one for all, all for one
until we could look up and find the sun
in its proper place
once again
and dodge the pain of the mental rain
which has been falling
washing out dreams
and churning them to soggy dust
most of all we have lost our trust
that sense that everything will all be ok
has upped and melted away
chopped down, chipped up
like the limbs of a tree
and with it our sense of certainty
the shock is profound
because we have found that we stand on much shakier ground
than anyone thought it could possibly be

Low tide
the sea has retreated
leaving  behind a keepsake box of **** and shells
spilled out across the beach
hidden watery things
drawn from the deep
they melt as footprints
when the sea returns
gathering her chicks
to rest below the waves
in sandy contemplation
of the world above

Life, that divine eternal spark
did it really start
as a shot in the endless dark
or were we fated
to be created
neatly planned
by a pencil
in some vast immortal hand!

I cannot say is miss you
well not every day
life moved on, and took me with it
carried with the tide
and weathered by waves
you stayed as you were
as you will always be
safe and dry on the shore
but you cannot dip your toes
or dance in the sand as I have done
feel the sun on your back
or the wind against your face
for you the race was too quickly run
all over and done
before it had really begun

I strongly suggest that you put on a vest
and maybe some pants
nobody wants to see
what is dangling from your people tree
I think it would be best
if you got yourself dressed
it's a sensible request
before your arrest!

Why do we do it
tear a fragile piece
of inner self
a printed page
and hang it raw
for public crows to peck and gnaw
blowing dry for all the world to see
what need have we
but still we strive to write
to search our foggy tired brains
and sift the ashes that remain
to lay them bare
upon the hearth and stone
to carry on
and give a little blood and bone
with every word we make our own!

Smooth, the touch of a lovers hand upon your skin
which wakes a beating heart within
it stirs the sparks of bold desire
and fans the flames a little higher

Mountains are folded napkins
laid out on the cloth of the world
remnants of a picnic
that finished long ago

Scratch off the surface
of anyone's mind
and you might be surprised
at the picture you find
the one that's behind the smile that you see every day
we all paint our faces but leave little traces
in shades of Dorian Gray

Lift the lid of life
plunge in
enjoy it
embrace it
because you can't replace it

Bay of Funday
shines in the fog
smoky landscape
wide grey ocean
flower *** rocks and rolling tides
I long to breathe your salty air
and throw my cares into your breeze
feeling the freeze around my toes
who knows, perhaps one day
Bay of Funday

What is it makes us take that flight
on wings of fancy, chasing words that keep us up at night
obssessed invaders of our every waking daytime thought
they rule our lives
until at last the writing’s done
we float to earth to rest and sleep
until we start another one

I am keeping watch
as you lay in your nest of wires
an electric symphony plays
in the background
beeps to wish you goodbye
it is the hardest thing to say to anyone
but I want you to go
because the waiting is killing us all!

I have this friend
her rage
at the world
is her cage
she won’t turn the page
or try to fly
to a brighter sun
in a bluer sky
a sad little bird
who constantly weeps
for the memories
she clings to
and keeps
clutched to her chest
ignoring the rest
of her life going by
and the scars
that she’s given herself
through the bars

Don't put me in a corner
or back me in tight
it's probably the only time that I will stand and fight
If you leave me little option
here's what I'm gonna do
I'll leap out of my corner
and bite a chunk off you!

Tears of the world
a salt tide that floods
feeding the marshes
windswept waiting places
sentinels of the hollow margins
lonely but for the cries of birds
wading the cracks where land meets sky and endless water
at the edge
of something and nothing

People are rivers
some are deep
some are shallow
some are a little bit twisted
some you definitely don't want to cross
and others are just wet and full of crap!

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

Letters returned to sender
my heart in the blender
fingers burned
lesson learned!

When we dream
we take down a book
from the shelf
of ourself

Stones in my pockets
weigh me down
and roll like eggs while I wade in the blue
further than I thought my nerve would ever hold
chill creeps a frosty band around my chest
feet no longer touching sand
hands two waving fish among the ****
gulls as they cry pay little heed
I am beyond them now, those earthly things
Ophelia has her water wings

Almost a year of low level stress
a summer and winter of trying to guess
will it be over, can we progress
the urge to cheer up and get on has expired
not sure about you
but my God I am tired!

No love
No hope
No freedom
No voice
No future
nothing is the absence of something
and that can mean everything!

The reason I write
to **** the banality
of reality

Everyone brought flowers
oh so many pretty flowers
to grieve with me through the hours
and to take the pain away
roses and daffodils in every shade and colour
because they wanted to say something, but they didn’t know what to say!

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!

The wind outside my window
is a lonely wayward soul
forever seeking company
searching around corners
whipping sand up into drifts
but the beach won’t play today
nor will the dark and boiling sea
or the marram grass, bent down and flat among the dunes
only the gulls with their wheeling cries
will try to hug the wind

Paradise is a free flying bird
with feathers to trim a hat
made especially for you

Sunrise
is always a surprise
we bask in the glow
and we know
that millennia ago
people were doing the same
like us they gasped as the sky turn to flame
the way if affects us
connects us

Candles light the dark
They illuminate a room
So monsters can see

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!

Pick up the brush
although the handle be thorns
and paint with words, or love or tears or rain
paint them all the same
paint your heart or the sky or a thousand other things
paint until the brush is dry and fingers bleed
for you are blessed indeed

Word butterflies
free on the wind
they escaped my head
while I was sleeping
the window in my mind
it seems
was open

You irritating ****!
Somehow you got yourself under my teenage skin
and you stayed there for thirty odd years
with the stubborness of a tick
we have grown up together
and old together
dynamite wouldn’t shift you now
you are a part of me
as I am a part of you