Your entreaties resound
Off of deaf wood
I'm up another tree
In a different neighbourhood.

He fell out of the poet tree
          And
               Hit
        Every
                   Branch
                                 On
                           The
                       Way
                  Down.

Him.
                                                            ­                   Hit
                                                             ­      Need to
                                                              ­   No
                                              Branches felt
                                      But the
                           Ugly tree
                       The
                   Up
He climbed

The quick brown fox
Jumped over the lazy dog
He could not be bettered
Like a super efficient postman
He just run out o letters.

Imagine seeing your vices
All Piled up
Or In a crate
or a vat
The eternal filing cabinet
Lists that
The Stirling equivalent
Of what you paid out
Could have bought you a boat
And not a cheap one at that.

I've only had
One dog
That was truly mine
He got euthanised
When I was seven
To me he was hardly alive
Me auld fellah
Brought him back
From Lambourne
When he laid the roads
A fat beagle type mungral
Clumsy
But his love fully exposed
My memories are hazy
He exists now
Only in a Polaroid
From Christmas morning
Leaning heavy on me
In my cowboy uniform.

I like the word preternatural
It's like a bridge between
The achievable
And the functional impossible
What we all might do
Versus some Hellraiser ****
The step that says
I can't believe
You got away with it.

The biggie of course was Fredo Corleone
Betrayed his blood
Cos he was passed over
He had plenty o time to think what he'd done
Till he didn't on a rowing boat
At the end of a shotgun

Joey pants in the Matrix
Did it for wine and steak
With little  time to contemplate
His moral mistake

You can hardly blame
Lando Calrissian
They threatened his people
With total destruction
And he made up for it later
When he led the attack
That threw the empire
Down into hell's crack

When eagles dared
Richard Burton let Colonel turner
Jump out o the plane over the frozen tundra
Some say he cheated the hangman's rope
But Burton's logic is easy to scope
Flying low over snow
It might not have killed him
But shattered his body
So in agony freezing
He had some time to
Mull his betrayal
Maybe he felt some regret
Before his eyes went pale

And at the Hot Gates of Thermopylae
After the slaughter and terror
As Leonides hailed Ephialtes
MAY YOU LIVE FOREVER.

Youth is wasted on the young
Life on the living
Always imparted by the old
And ghosts unforgiving
Quantify waste
You smunt!
The arch criticism
Of the lacking
What was it?
Did your time run out
Just as you was packing?

My ma would say
It's bin a funny old year
But I remember her saying that
Since I've bin able to hear
Or at least to remember
That I could do the same
Everyone does it
Everybody is to blame
We generally don't  demur
To the ones we deem smart
There is in em
The  truth
That we feel in our hearts
But do us a favour
And check the year's news
And see just how accurate
These ***** were with
Their  views.

There's deffo a ghost in this machine
Though maybe not accidental
If you know what I mean
Once you reach an impasse
And press save on your draft
A prompt immediate appears beneath what you craft
The sneaky *******!
What does it say?
It orders
Delete this poem
In gas lighting grey.

She had a thing for tapered candles
In a dildonourous way
Wick fully lit
On the end pointing outwards
Or So they say
But the same drugs
That fuelled her depravity
Sent her to sleep
As the flame burned on
stuck there in the deep
Luckily the candle blew out
And the wax hardened there
Once thought lubricant
Become sealant
Set standing there
And so the gods posed her
In an image so stark
An avante garde
Candlebra
Displayed in the dark

Chernobyl fall out!
Chernobyl fall out!
Russian ******
Are nowt to shout about!

There's a glass in my cupboard
That's seventy two years old
Sometimes I drink ***** out of it
To see what might unfold
It belonged to my grandma
It's a coronation relic
I've checked
It's not collectible
It's fate
Is rather hectic.