Monday, 27 October 2025

My Song



I travelled the world, far and long
through towns and plains singing my song
I never knew where I could rest
to write down thoughts of my digress
the battle fought was a war too long
words that were written to end my song
passions kiss in a loves embrace
satin cloth trimmed with lace
peace was shattered by a broken sound
of running water flowing on the ground
a river close had burst its bank
fish lie dying and a boat had sank
the small craft had gone but urgency calls
save the fish was my very first thought 
if I hadn’t done so then my life was worth nought
carrying it down the river to Perrotts Brook
then lowered it in, slipping forward from my grasp 
I placed it down then released its rasp
it fell and floated in a side kind of sway
then waking gradually it swam away
my song ended as it had once began
on and on every single day
to tell of life, its many twists that get in the way
no doubt it will end quite quickly one of these days






Monday, 20 October 2025

Family & Friends

Two together in an empty house 
avoiding getting in the way of one another 
family and children in the same house 
confusion all around, battles of sound
a cosy quiet corner can always be found  
the gathering of warmth and love 
sharing a wild hysterial ground
when alone again loneliness around
avoiding the others space with no music



Sunday, 12 October 2025

Love until May



The heart to give away, love deeply in any way
happiness along with peace, everything you say 
caring for others all around, just spread the joy everyday
passionate caress for June until May


Wednesday, 1 October 2025

Life’s simulation



I have two minutes to say all I want
two minutes to say what is long
not much time when I am not feeling strong
So much to write, oh my mind has gone
all I can think of is ‘fuck’, I am falling 
though; today is the day, my memory is found
to turn my ridiculous life around
a battery in my hearing aid for sound
damn I crashed the plane on the ground
that’s what happens in a simulator


Thursday, 25 September 2025

Tragic Agenda

Away in the wind when the storm blows
distance the sounds of a horns crow
Bagpipes are feint; sing about a saint
mama passes over afore a long ole wait

the big ‘C’ burdens thee, is it time? possibly
striving to come, agony to go, confusion maybe
would you wallow in shame or weep
go in peaceful friends as sheep

A ship sails the troubled way across the sea
to a land bewitched with sinful peasantry
enjoyment in a find the strange noise sounds
chants of calling to pray on the mound

beautiful flags of hatred hanging
St George the foreign Prince a dangling
England became a place of hell
viciousness under a racist smell

Tonight eating a curry from my Indian friend
tomorrow a Chinese restaurant sends
a pizza flops meaty mozzarella cheese 
amazingly tasty, send some more please

Sting in the tail of a locust
poisonous death from a snake
no - only one way to warm a glove
a hand of warmth and filled with love. 






Thursday, 4 September 2025

The Broken Horse

Barbed wire namely life shredding skin 
the once upon a time you were  
irrevantly perturbed in guilt ridden sin 
the little child growing in time long  
ages to grow, fed lies which maketh one strong 
then; eventually destructive force hits  
truth hits hard as a horse with a bit 
all hurt, pain, destructive force 
catches up energy, dies of course 
accepting it is as it is with remorse 
existence as a broken horse.



Tuesday, 19 August 2025

A Working Man’s Legacy

I remember sixteen as if it were yesterday 
five different jobs not a single day away
wanting success, keen to be blessed
yet secretly, deep down, wanting caress

working in a greyhound stadium with my dad
on the tote, a brass museum piece clad
painting, selling, Amway was bad
so many jobs, not a university grad

years have gone, still without a song
never to join a rich man’s throng
not up for the challenge, can’t be bothered 
work, wore my life thin, then I felt smothered

Just like John Lennon, a working class hero
who created nothing then went to zero
intelligently stupid, a rich man’s tool
living a life, yet feeling the fool

When I die, it will not be long
To  join Jesus or Elvis to sing my own song
then he’ll say to me ‘come along’
There is a staircase for painting and it’s very long

Hats on my Brow

Lay the offer of ‘Kind Sensual Sex’  I would say ‘Sorry Not Now’ Coz, I always wear my ‘Hats’ on my brow though I feel I must say for there ...