Walking along the narrow track,
parents shepherding ice cream kids,
making way for pushchairs, making waves.
The lakeside watch on ducks and swans.
The nodding smiles and genteel grins,
like a 50's Sunday promenade,
while walking sticks wait by benches
dreams die when mobiles chime.

pushchairs followed by mothers holding hands with little ones
all shades of white and black
multicultural at its most innocent, and best

It's September and the sun is in the sky
No need for jumpers or coats as the sun blesses us with warmth from its rays on this beautiful balmy day
The Quay is busy today, people living different lives mixing with each other side by side
Children in their pushchairs being pushed by their mums
Children, men and woman in kayaks making the most of the late sun
Shops and cafes open, tables and chairs outdoors full
Birds flying in the sky and on the River, swans pigeons and gulls
A homeless man with all his worldly goods feeds the birds by his side with the last of  his food
Cyclists enjoying the sun whilst out for a ride
Elderly people out walking with their family by their side
People saying 'hello' , 'good afternoon'  'it's a pleasure to see you' 'let's meet up again soon'
It was a pleasure to be a part of the balmy day by the quay

Stepping through the portal, chaos’s pause is pressed.
I sit at a table with my baguette, fries & coke,
watching the world continue without me.

The sun is out today, it has been a long time coming,
yet I can hear complaints;
“It’s too **** hot!!!” – Typical Britishness.

I take a bite of baguette,
Savouring the flavours of cottage cheese & pineapple,
a burst of the tropical in my mouth, reflecting the weather outside.

The sunshine has brought with it an abundance of skin on show.
Short skirts & crop-tops; pecs out, shorts & flip-flops,
The wearing of whatever is cool.
Old guys in Panama hats, sandals & socks – Not Cool!!!

I take a bite of baguette and wash it down with coke.

An overpacked bus stops opposite, expelling its human cargo.
Limp, damp and glistening in the sunshine;
Sardine people exiting a giant can on wheels

I take a bite of baguette.

A homeless guy blows in from the concrete plains like a tumbleweed.
Despite the heat, he wears all he possesses;
jeans, jumper, an old school-style parka.
An old sleeping bag and blanket thrown over one shoulder, dragging along behind him.

He stops and asks me for change.
I give him my fries.
He seems grateful.
I feel guilt-free as he leaves;
But I wonder what else he will get to eat today?

I take a slightly guilt-ridden bite of baguette and wash it away with some more coke.

A posse of students come in and join some already seated.
Fist bumps and various cultural greetings are exchanged.
Instantly, the moderate hum of a busy eatery is shattered by the new arrivals as music goes on a portable speaker.

What a God-awful racket it is that passes for music these days!
Suddenly, I feel really old as I hear the voice of my grandfather in my head;
he expressed that very same opinion about my music of choice in the 80s.
The recollection makes me smile.

I take a bite of baguette.
Another bus stops opposite, and more sardine people get off.
More flesh passes by, both cool, and the Not Cool!
More of the homeless amble by asking for change and picking up discarded ***-butts that show the promise of a smoke for later.
Pushchairs laden with sleeping babes, toddlers trailing behind harassed mothers.
Workers, shoppers and moochers;
the whole mix of society passes by, doing what it does.

I take a final bite of baguette and finish up the last of the coke.

My sojourn over, I must now pass once more through the portal,
my window to the world.
Once again, I am simply part of the madding crowd.

Making my way up town,
         chaves  all-round.

And single mums with multiple
                          fathers wondering
                 with pushchairs  around.

And the kids miss there dads,
               one of there
                    multiple other half's..

        but mummy doesn't let
                           them come around.

Staring blankly ahead the crack heads
          head off to the job centre to
                  collect that Jiro that'll be...

Be in there arm, and they need it,
             and they want it now.
                       But the dealer got busted
before there next round.....

And people stare and  wander if they'll be
                   pretending to be homeless,
             scrounging for those lose coins
to get there
                  next fix injected down.

Making my way up town,
                people passing me by,

So many people walking around there
   cant be this much dole dosers
                                          walking around.

I sit on a seat and watch the world
                                                pass me by.
                              And I, and I just wonder

how many kids are walking around the town
               when schools open.
Yet I see them chaving around,
     the country is doomed,
                     as I see them plodding aimlessly

                

                                               around ..


This is me making my way up town,
            and I wonder if I'll get mugged
                      by some ****** that can't get a
job cos there benefits pay more than my

                       full time job makes,

But I still need this watch,
             but I wonder if I hadn't battered the
  **** out of this ****, would I have seen tonight.

Making my up town knuckles bruised with satisfaction.

  That I made my way up town, and I know that
                          I'll smile in the crowd because ill
           be proud after my shift


that I come home to you tonight.

a story
By
Jude Kyrie

*I did not see it coming
The car hit me head on.
It took my breath away.
No more than that it
Took my legs away
17 and a paraplegic.
The object of pity.
She was married
She had just had a baby
It was crazyville
I watched her struggle
as her her husband
worked his *** off.
I fell in love with her too.
But only from my wheelchair.
She was thirty something
I did not ask.
I did not care.
I listened to her music.
She listened to mine.
I listened to everything
She shouted or whispered.
I did not know
What I could do if she
came to me naked.
I just wanted her that way.
Hormones don't have wheelchairs.
But paraplegics don't have girlfriends.

She came over to my den
I whispered it .
Too afraid to speak loudly.
I said I want you
I need you.
Indont know
if it was from pity.
She undressed
And she came to me
I felt myself respond
She did what women
Have done to men
that need them
Since time began.
She did What she could.

I missed her terribly
when she moved.
She said she was wrong.
But I did not listen.
I had lost my heart
and my legs.

Five years later

It was summer
The flowers were abundant.
Sally my wife
Brought the children
They were ready to leave
Their pushchairs
Even though
I would never
Leave mine.
She said
I love you so much honey
I kissed her beautiful face.
And said
Not as much as I love you.

On some quiet moments
I think of the lady next door.
She lit a candle in my manhood
And it set fire to my soul
It became an inferno.
And I became a full man.

I did not see it coming
The car hit me head on
It took my breath away
No more than that it
Took my legs away
17 and legless
The object of pity.
She was married
She had just had a baby
It was crazyville
I watched her struggle
as her husband
worked his *** off.
I fell in love with her too.
But only from my wheelchair.
She was thirty something
I did not ask
I did not care.
I listened to her music
She listened to mine.
I listened to everything
She shouted or whispered.
I did not know
What I could do if she
came to me naked.
I just wanted her that way.
Hormones don't have wheelchairs.
But paraplegics don't have girlfriends.
She came over to my den
I whispered it .
Too afraid to speak loudly.
I said I want you
I need you
She undressed
And she came to me
I felt myself respond
She did what woman
Have done to men
that need them
Since time began.
She did What she could.
I missed her terribly
when she moved.
She said she was wrong.
But I did not listen.
I had lost my heart
and my legs.

Five years later

It was summer
The flowers were abundant
Sally my wife
Brought the children
They were ready to leave
Their pushchairs
Even though
I would never
Leave mine.
She said
I love you so much honey
I kissed her beautiful face.
And said
Not as much as I love you.

On some quiet moments
I think of the lady next door.
She lit a candle in my manhood
And it set fire to my soul
It became an inferno.
And I became a man.

There's nowt round here but wasted opportunities,
two or more pushchairs constitutes community,
"no-one smiles", the badge of indignity,
the most used queue is the one for electricity
                                                             TOKENS
                   high-rise tenement heart-broken,
                       yearns for pleasure unspoken,
               Daydream Tee-Vee
                            comfy setee
                                  casualty
         accident & emergency
........SOCIAL CLUB...
..down the "RUB-A-DUB"
DUB AN' BASS                 Time and place
vanish without trace          in the land of the briefcase
no jobs at the coalface       no room in the rat-race
selling jesus on a pillowcase
while your soul falls from grace
your light vanishes without trace
your brain starts to think............

poetry can be really depressing
especially when you're dressing
to go out to dinner
and wishing you were thinner
and wanting to be a winner
so we can have more losers
more unfulfilled consumers
the last thing you want
is a SACRED CLOWN
making you frown
bringing you down
bringing you round
with the sound
of your round
and round
the Mulberry Bush!!!

Paper money from the bark
"in god we trust", quite frank
promises the bank
of pyramids
the bank of semi-solid
promises
to the bearer
What could be fairer?
Are you a sharer?
or a failure........
to understand
the Promised Land
was always in our hands
till you took it from our care
and made us unaware
that we even owned a share
of this earthly paradise
as you rented us a slice
and told us we were mice
well! isn't that nice
to be getting advice
from the ministry of price
to suit all pockets
invested in rockets
cash crops for guns
fast food in a bun
truth on the run
beg for the crumbs
from the Vampires
from the Vulture
who design your
FUTURE
then  sell you "here and now"
on an installment plan
with a final demand
for more prompt payments
for the balance outstanding
bailiffs impending
more paper lending
PROMISES THE BEARER
there could be quarer
times than this
hit and miss
jug-o-****
just round the corner
of a windswept
tenement block
could be molten rock
or some ****-stars ****
selling you a crock
of something less
than wholesome
of something less
than Freedom
Of a product called
EMOTION-INNA-LOTION
MAJIK-POTION-PROMOTION
BRAND-LOYAL-DEV­OTION
with nothing to pay
while the tides at bay
BANISHES GREY
and gets in the corners
where others cant reach
on a "holiday-brochure-beach"
with your elektronik LEASH
BLOWIN' IN THE WIND
like a flag of BELIEF
vanity steals your beauty
like a THIEF
there’s no let up
no RELIEF
JUST TASTE SENSATIONS
AND SPARKLING TEETH
0% FINANCE
and 100% GRIEF