How is it slightly shocking
when the jokers cease their mocking?
When our silent door’s been knocked in?
When this time spent out is slept in?
How our lovers call their debts in?

Why does the thought make criers
of those bigots
All the cheaters and deceivers?
All the thieves-crooks-plebs-receivers?

Where can the buck be halted?
Why is the last,
Where are our truths remoulded?
Why are our mem’ries jolted
and when will this Hate be hated?!

[from November 2011]

Grey Air

Clouds announce their entrance
as they camouflage the sun.
Though I know that they are many,
their appearance is as one…

A coldly breeze envelopes me
then follows certain rain:
This does not cast a cloud o’er me –
I’ll know the sun again.

One More Song

One tiny verse
sung tight-lipped,
as it all gets worse.

Lost the bounce,
gave spring away –
Time tears at my eyes
and squeezes my day.

Thoughts pound my brain,
old thoughts; so sad
as still I clasp
at lives I’ve had.

Short painful routes
are all I see:
They scream my name
to recapture me.

Still the light dances
just out of my reach
so I follow the shadows
that lead from the beach.


Light up the night
when you bring what is right
to the back of this slight
blood location
Go on light
shine so bright
This your light in my slothen night

Mine was this music
Your laughing made me sick
The tunes which I’d trick
For your tuneless ears

The scribbles of music
A mix and rewrite script
This music you hated
Your light saw me blind
I can’t play
Pluck the way
Not the way that you wanted thru’ day

This is our failing
your light and my wailing
for a tempo regarded by most
as absurd
Let us finish
this sour dish
A time to replenish and go our own way


clouds 2007Smoke curls gladly
through my iris
reflections in recess.
This is my first
I can’t let it happen
I shan’t let it happen
Easily said…

So my lungs numb
to music in my brains,
humdrum, passages.
And outside, somewhere,
someone else;
another one, is shot!

Impersonal formality.
I pay no heed to this atrocity…
Still my cigarettes burn
Still my minds yearn
Still I don’t earn…enough to smoke!!


Injections of objective retention,
recondite, a bile-like-ripe lifer.
Can profane living
give rise to oblivion?
Give re-issuing license to losers?

Outstanding, derivative pleasurer
found lighting the end of a fuse:
Warnings abounded about her
moreover land closed in around her!
Still silence in mind,
expletives well timed,
I’d rather live lightly than longer…

A moaning most maudlin disgruntler
caught slinking and loudly around me.
These sorry sad Sinbads,
these bored boring bastards.
All fellow food-fighters forever!


Moan moan moan moan
fart smoke eat groan
moan sleep smoke moan
groan moan moan

Stress fart sleep moan
worry work eat groan
smoke groan moan moan
groan shit moan

I slip quietly
from your voiceless noises
and flee
to the smallest room

Bo Ditty

You cannot save this, we haven’t time
I don’t even know, the problem’s not mine
Bring your ideas to the panel enquiry
We’ll hunt a scapegoat and write a story

With not enough hours left in today
To possibly find a possible way
Our enigma’s lost in convoluted drama’s
We’re busier than Barrack Obama

Weighted down by the rush to push
Never quite close enough to close, leaves
A feeling of ambiguous feebleness
Far from any routes culminating at Trust

Each of us in all life’s stations
Knows there’s more that can never be known
Moments die to a beat so sinister
Being busier than Barrack Obama

And right behind you
In your warm footprint
Another soul flairs on a familiar sprint
Repeating, reflecting, what you half captured
Still busier than Barrack Obama

Sightlessly Hopeful

Smoking Utopia
Numbly draining
unstraight thinkingness –
Self-image confusory.
Temporal aching for focus.
What if one’s already on the greenest side of the fence?

Blankly hankering
(insolvent lungful),
regurgatory states
where memory plays the strongest link!
My weakest link,
my thoughts…
Feelings of floatyness
blankness – like a virgin canvas.

Body painage.
Recently used-up
everyday the cycle uses me more.
Old and reliant on mothering still
where does/can one go from here?

Dreams of living on own, not loan
dreams you see
My base is flawed
So naked
As friends slip sandily through limp, feeble fingers
Good for shrugging and waving
and precious little else.
Oh good – to be here at the bottom again!

Derrière Mastication

Dear Sir,
I am a man –
though I may dress like a girl
and smell like a pig
a man is what I am.
So do let me by
with my lazy eye,
with my nineties cut,
with my face – like your butt!
And with this limp (why I walk like a pimp)
let me pass.

Let my skinny arse
breeze by your frame.
Let my dim-dull brain
and my too-big feet
tread this nowhere street.
Give my erroneous nose
the space it needs,
as it goes,
do not stand in my stride
as my knock-knees collide.

’Cause I’d do the same
for your irksome name –
and I’ll let your flat face pass on free
if you’ll just shut it tight
and let me be.

Questions of oral tormentors

One by one you break me down
Call my bluff wreak havoc around
Dish my dirt
Break my heart
Calamitous felon
Where have I left, to start?

Oh great red mouth so close to death
Why my heartache each jibe you jest?
Every breath your voice emits
Through candour
Drenched in shit!

From where do your great statements spring?
Lost reality (or let it free?)
So stuck just west of truth you craze
Lost and circling in your own wasted maze
Even my coarse questions fail
Why am I asking?
Who cares at all?


Cults of criminal violence breathe
Inhaling youth
Exhaling disease
Regularly stealing hopes and enjoyment
Cursing hard workers
And praising deceit

Where is your milkround, realm of the damned?
How do the misfits
Somehow find your band?
As the gravitas simply pulls all to your feet
only those like minded hardballs think freely!

At night when you’re busy
All calm and unwise
Don’t let my bleak torch
Burn truth in your eyes
Digital con’s, or pickpocket prizes
Broad as this country
You’ve no more surprises!

Lost only heart things
And not much there to start
Each day out to strike
May be one day your last.

Singular Heart

Out of the reach of love
Standing clear of the paths that others dream of
How did you get so lost?
So far from warm hearts in this long frost
When worlds get close enough to touch
Your lonely tide draws all heat off

Here’s no blind old preacher
Crushed by the weight of a heart breached!
Just turning the other cheek
Keeping thoughts clear and pain out of reach

A rising chorus of lovers wail
for lost chance and misdirection
Somehow your drive is stuck on fail
When teased with a threat of emotion
And this shield that is fear’s
Some coarse protection

Unwilling to tempt a hope of union
So you stand clear of the
rough hewn path
And let those pass
Who promise what love desires…

Lost in space

Squared up and square eyed
well fixed on the scene
transmitted through space
to your sparkling square screen.

Caught by the eyes
held fast in a trance
unable to break
from this transient dance

Wasted and lost
free floating in space
unusable wreck
with time lost on your face.


“Get down
you let down!
Please, just let us be!”
Is the caustic
retort they shall
once lie on me.
My whimsy all worn out –
bravado expired.
It’s the last blunt remark
as the rest of all’s fired.

“Get back
you sad sack!”
With a cringing retreat,
thus, I’m sacked
through their tongue
swiftly licked
to defeat.

red onion slice

red onion