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Sunday 24 May 2015

Once a Knight, any Knight?

Send me a knight in shining armour,
Astride a shiny chestnut steed. 
Send me a knight in shining armour,
To pander and cosset me.
To massage my feet, oh how I'd love him!
Send me a knight in hardworn 
armour
- as long as he is not dim.

Send me a knight, or just a man,
Who can see me for who I am.
A man of steel, of iron will,
To withstand my madness and love me still.
Send me a man of strength and honour,
Of humour, character and fortitude.
(Sigh.) Just send me a man in jeans and t shirt,
As long as he brings with him, Chinese food.

Sunday 17 May 2015

You or me?

A physical attraction, mind over matter.
A look at you from a younger me,
A fusion of what I missed. 
Strange. 
Foreign. 
Alien to my life, 
You intrigue, confuse, recoil;
This isn't me.

Sadness of my past
Covering and coping
Smiling and joking 
Playing the role
Fear wouldn't let me change.
Maybe a chrysalis, cocoon
Or moth I fly, 
Personally I don't think a butterfly.

Confused, regretful of life,
Of life I missed
Chances. oh chances, 
Did they exist?
Or was I just trapped by life,
By marriage, my lack of wealth
Into a life of nothingness.
Was it all just a front?

And now?
I shrug, what is now?
A reflection of the past
A reflection of the now,
Or just a fragment,
A small particle of the future.

An atom
An amoeba.
One moment
One cell
Of an unknown future.

And the last. 4 better late than never!

28/04/15

Once upon a time as I opened a book,
Humpty Dumpty was marrying the cook.
All the kings horses and all the kings men,
Were a guard of honour along with three French hens.

Little Miss Muffet had sold on her tuffet, 
Making a few quid on eBay,
And started a small business
Selling her curds and whey.

Old Jack and Jill had a right rough time
After the kids had grown up.
His knock on the head made his memory pants
And Jill threatened to divorce.



29/04/15

What do you think of
When the pages turn in life?
Is that why you left?

30/04/15

Walking down the street
A girl staring at her feet
Her hands pointing forward 
Joined under breast.

She senses rather than sees me
As I walk in her direction
Her hair frames her face and hangs
Hiding her perception,
Disabling sight in any direction,
Other than down.

She fails to notice bluebells 
Swaying in the breeze,
Or the lonely daffodil just by the tree.
Not even the car that stopped
To ask for number thirty three.
She keeps looking down 
Like a forlorn clown.

Her thumbs are working frantic
At the only thing she sees...
Her phone.
Every morning she walks by
School blouse, skirt and tie; texting.

Missing the world race by,
Hunched before her time,
Losing her life: press SEND.


31/04/15

Summers day sweet scent
Sun kissing each cheek gently
Smile on rosy lips.

Sunday 3 May 2015

almost there

not always easy to write up the poems that you have scribbled down. nor edit them [so apologies!] 


18/04/2015

Step outside and squint
Sun beams from a clear blue sky
I need it to reach my skin
So pale
Withdrawn
Hermit like
Always indoors
Seeing not feeling
The evening comes
I feel the last rays
Ebb and flow
Ebb and flow


19/04/2015

I saw your face today
Smiling, chatting away.
I dropped back in time
To days when that face was mine.
I knew every contour
Every wild hair
The twinkle in your eyes
When I was near.

You were the man of my dreams
My soulmate
My friend
My love.
At times we didn’t need to speak
To know we were near was enough

I saw your face today.
Smiling, chatting away
Not knowing I was looking on
My heart didn’t leap
Which felt really strange
It always had, back in the day.

The days of love now long gone
You were just a stranger
Chatting away,
With straggy grey hair.

I relaxed. I didn’t care.




20/04/2015


Icing on the cake
Bride and groom already gone off
To their pastures new


21/04/2015

I was ready.

A look in the mirror to double check
Check. Check
I grabbed my keys and took a deep breath.
In. Out.

It was now or never.

I pushed through the door
Familiar feelings from long ago.
People busy in their own space
Didn’t see me standing there
Surveying the place.

And so it began.

A gentle walk to warm up,
Then a hill and higher still.
The sweat was trickling down my face,
Sip some water:
It wasn’t a race.

Cross trainer called
It was soon too much.
The knee groaned and the hip yelled STOP!
I eased off and went to the weights,
Pushing knobs in
Pulling knobs out.

Breathing out.
Breathing in.
Crunches ended my new sin.

After a two year break,
I was back in the gym.






22/04/2015


Roll up, roll up for it’s soon May day,
a day of fun for families to be one.
Come along to the Village Green,
well, Headless Cross Orchard
to you and me.

Bring your scarecrow in Star Wars dress
and have it judged by the Mayor [or is it Mayoress?]
Come play on the human fruit machine,
all are welcome on the Village Green.

The stomp and pride of heavy horses,
Brass band playing through the orchard.
Eat your fill of soup and bread,
The Jedi’s are concocting a light sabre spread.

Buy some trinkets from the stalls around,
jams and chutneys and garlic pickle abound.
Paintings and home crafted object d’art
Whittling wood and even a tipple from a jar.

As you watch the ribbons weaving
around the Maypole with the sun gleaming.
Roll up, roll up, come and play,
May the fourth be with you for its May Day.





23/04/2015

Ribbons dangling free
Awaiting brownies to weave
May day tradition






24/04/3015

Feel your arm around me.
Comfort. Warmth.
Allow me safety as I sleep
to feel cherished,
drifting into the deep of sleep.
Protected from the wolf
that snarls at my door.
Protect me from the demon
that comes when I sleep,
that arm around me.
That slayer of the deep
battling my demons
only known when I am asleep.
Brandishing sword and
impenetrable guard.
Protector,
defender,
saviour of my peace.

25/04/2014

Earth’s destabilisation brings about destruction
In the most violent and tragic way; earthquake.
Buildings tumble crushing the innocent.
Buried beneath imploded structures.
Many survived, others entombed,
A crypt of holy bricks
Shrouded in dust.

26/04/2015

The mountain quivered on the edge
Over laden and burdened with snow and rocks
Dislodging climbers and sherpas alike
To tumble thousands of feet below.
There lies the bodies of the new
Cheek by jowl with the bodies of old.

Entombed in the snow.



We think of them now.

Thursday 30 April 2015

What can you do in 15 minutes?

You know the first thing people are going to say is sex: more than once. But I'm not thinking that at all ( novel I know).

Really, think about it, what can you do in 15 minutes?
Change a bed
Write the shopping list
Order a take away
Now the lawn
Cook dinner
What? Nah not feasible say so many people hence why they plump for the take away option. Of course you can! Nah, we can't afford to cook from scratch. Really? Yeah, take away is much cheaper. You think?

I've never fallen for this crap, Infact it's always annoyed the hell out of me. 
I'm a fussy eater. I'm not mad on red meat and hate English vegetables. So the Sunday roast type meal isn't really my thing. What I do like to do is eat food that's full of flavour that's cooked quickly.
I mean, how does this look? Stirs fried veg with quorn 'chicken' and some chorizo on a bed of spaghetti. How much would that cost in a restaurant? Probably around a tenner. How long does it take to cook? Well, according to the spaghetti, 12 minutes. Whack on the pasta, stir fry the veg and any meat you want to have and bingo, a healthy tasty meal in less than 15 minutes that costs about £1.50-£3 per person.
Now what was that excuse about not being able to afford good food?

Wednesday 22 April 2015

Almost up to date!

14/04/2014

Shall I compare thee to a mobile App,
select your QR code
download your data
to see if meeting you would be sweeter?

Swipe left, swipe right
onto the next
no words spoken,
was it the eyes or the legs?

Two months now we’ve been mobile dating
Whatsapp, text, messenger relating.
with emoticons we bare our soul
not a spoken word or a hint of meeting


15/04/2015

I’m still pondering performance words
entertaining the masses: well a select few.
It’s an art, exploration not a potential installation,
it’s something pure,
but, not necessarily clean.
The language flies
Some f-ing and c-ing here and there
spat out loud in boastful manner

[I don’t mind but I’m not keen]

Is it possible to keep it clean
to express life in the raw
without expletives spouting forth?
Can it be done with tone alone
expressing anger, passion,
death in its throws?

A pause. Deep breath. A scream.
As effective as the f-ing c?




16/04/2015

Smug.
The feeling of satisfaction as the boiler is switched off,
calculating early savings.
“ It was at least another month, this time last year,” said Bert,
hitching up his trousers,
“I remember we had that frost
before yer mother was back from Skeggy.
Do you remember our Nellie?”

Nellie rocks in her chair,
specs balanced on nose.
Knit one, pearl one, clickety clack
the jumper slowly grows.
“Aye Bert it was but fetch in the coal,
it’ll be chilly now the radiators cold.”
Knit one, pearl one, “oh bother”
a dropped stitch runs into a ladder.
Bert shuffles through the kitchen to do as he’s bid.


17/04/2015

Can a look be love
That first flutter of sweetness
Or just a little itch?







Tuesday 21 April 2015

Another 4, including 3 haikus

10/04/2015

Sun waking the day
dog walking in the crisp air.
Breathing. Smiling. Life.




11/04/2015


Gently hold the heart.
Cherish, nurture, protect, love.
Repayment in kind.











12/04/2015

Steady breathing
Long exhale
Paws twitching
A whimper
Then silence

Paws running in free air
Nose twitching
Tiny barks
Snorts
Small cry

Paws twitching
Nose running
Tiny whimper
Silent snorts
Then breathing

Joey sleeping




13/04/2015

Be kind to each one.
We know not their path or pain.
Each and every one.






Friday 10 April 2015

days 7, 8, 9

07/04/2015


D-day for the dawg.
Short cut.
Cut short.
Skin head.
Snipped and razored.
Puppyfied.

2 hours later.
All a dither.
Waggy tail.
Clipped.
Clean and happy.
Cuddlyfied.




08/04/2015

Back to work,
Easter break
no eggs [I know I’ve said].
PC on, emails in
daily grind begins
over porridge oats and tea.

Phone rings.
Emails ping.
Facebook interrupts,
grabs attention,
funny jokes,
happy news.
Diversion.

Clock strikes 5
leave in light
sun is shining warm.
Inviting.
Work? Hmmmm.
Begin again.
Tomorrow.

09/04/2015

Exciting day with fun to come,
to see the Salford One:
The Bard himself,
John Cooper Clarke.

Will words flow on distant dereliction,
or feisty forms frisson forth?
Will it inflict upon me
like a knife twisting words,
into my brain?


Joey with his new hair cut


Thursday 9 April 2015

NaPoWriMo..on catch up!

I've missed doing this for a few years but as I realised only a few days late I thought I would add it to my overloaded life and catch up in chunks!


Some poems may be whimsical, others serious. Some may follow a set pattern, others in my usual random style....lets see what happens. But each will have a relevance to my day.

01/04/2015

Lirpa Loof is released
to raid the brains of waffle and warp
before the clock strikes twelve
and the carriage deminishes into pumkin mush
beriddled with mice crawling and feasting
leaving you questioning the sanity of man



02/04/2015

Late on line launch party
makes for weary eyes and brain
as Agnil and the Centaur's Secret
strides boldly up to Amazon
resplendent with my illustrations

and takes a bow
amongst peers.

Joining the throng to stand
head and shoulders above.


03/04/2015


A down day from sad news.

                                        A death.
Too soon.
Too early.
Too.........................everything.

A man I was yet to know truly.
Suffered fools never.
Held friends dear, has passed.
Too shocked.
Too stunned.
Too.....................................



04/04/2015


Three million!!!!! I have won three million!!
How will I spend it?
A car or two or three?
A house with indoor pool and a library full of books?
A propery abroad maybe?
A party for friends, a round the world trip?

So Grace Patel in South Africa,
your direct line is in my phone
Johannesburg I'm coming
for my Three Million pounds
I'm no fool, it's for real.



05/04/2015

He rose on Easter Sunday so it's said,
not a chocolate egg in sight.
No gorging in E numbers to the supermarlets delight
on this very day.

I rose on Sunday to make tea.
To let the dog out for release.
A bright blue day.
No man rising.

No egg for me.



06/04/2015

To stretch and relax,
fourth lie-in in a row.
Dog pawing hand,
waiting to wee
I pad downstairs:
make tea.

Ponder what the day will bring. 
Rescue a bee.
First cut of the grass.
Sit. 
Enjoy the warmth of the sun.
Stop being a busy bee and breathe.

Enjoy what life has given,
relish the air, the sun, the day.
Do chores but enjoy
Be me.
Relax.
Be thankful. 





Friday 2 January 2015

New Month Musings

The happy memory jar was emptied last night. Not too many things in there  but that's not because not a lot of good things happened; just because I hadn't jotted down all of the good things. But there are times when we don't always realise what is a happy great moment. What is obvious is that what has made me happy over the last 12 months actually cost nothing.

The note worthy times have all been people related. Illustrating children's books, commissioned drawings and one that had me laughing out loud, the singing of Bohemian Rhapsody on the train back from a beer festival with a bunch of guys we didn't know. This time last year I had no idea I would end up with Joey, the only guy that has stuck in my life for more than a month or two: despite his attempts to escape to the neighbours. You've got to love a second hand dog.

Sad times are always easier to call to mind and it's hard sometimes not to let them make you bitter. A friend that turns into someone who tries to abuse your hospitality, old friends who, for their own reason, move onto new friends and cast you by the wayside. Hurtful in both ways but it's their choice as it is mine to not allow 'friends' to walk over me. I miss them all. The incredible sadness of two friends being diagnosed with cancer and the dreadful death of one within a few months of him finding out.

It's been a tough year as I hang in whilst I try to sell the business, coming home to feel drained of energy and full of stress. It's been hard not to just lock the door and run away; to fight off another bout of depression, to stay positive. To sometimes just lock the door and cry, sleep it off and start again. To believe it, when friends offer their support when asked or without asking, and they tell you that you are a great person. In the darkest days, these friends are worth their weight in gold.

So the year moved on. A trial at a new business idea was cast aside; I really don't have the energy. My social life dwindled, but that was my choice; I became a home bod and hid myself away just to try and regain some energy.

With more relaxation time, I have begun to feel better. Yes I still have to drag myself out of bed some days to take Joey for a walk and to go to work, but I do it: the survival instinct is within me.

I learned a lot last year and a lot of that was about me and how to handle me so I don't get too stressed and spiral into depression. I don't expect everyone to understand that, I wouldn't have a few years ago. I've learned to walk away from stress, to say no [in a nice way], to accept peoples choices and not take it too personally if they try to con me or move on to others, it's their personality not mine. So what I'm saying is that I have learned to let go.

This month, the most important 'letting go' will take place as I publish the Memoir, Calamity Spain. It has been reworked a number of times, originally starting it's life as a diary of angst, sadness and letting go. The more I added and more recently rewrote, the more cathartic it became. I've shed tears of anger and sadness for the first time over the events but I finally feel a calmness as I now work on the editing. Once it is complete, another huge boulder will be shed from my life and I will be happier for it.

What will this month bring? Another children's book to illustrate, a number of jobs already lined up for when I get back into work, who knows what else.

One day at a time and I will handle it as best I can. Happy moments will go in the jar and I will not stress: that I promise myself and deserves going in the happy jar.


True happiness really does cost nothing but time