Cherry Stone

Like pebbles on a beach

kicked around displaced by feet

this song is not my own

I’m about to get done for copyright

Sorry Paul Weller I didn’t mean to fella

for your world and mine to collide

over a choice of words.

Cherry stone pips, spit like bricks

onto upturned hubcap, circa 1983

chrome cigarette ends too, hullabaloo.

It’s a knackers yard this card system sucks

I’d rather Mac than Fleetwood Jack Bro.

Word soup kitchen flow, nowhere to go

might as well read, no time to feed,

getting in trouble again over nothing.

Beastie boys cat grown up at last

paw prints in custard tarts in the oven

got no missus, got no bruvver. I’m

alone in the kitchen of life got my tin

foil, boil an egg, sit on my bed. Watch

the rolling news again. Take tablet

throw it in bin. Connect with people

again. Got no mower got not dog

don’t like walking. Got a gift for

talking like Christmas Chocolates

Want one I’m giving feels good

in my hood again. Got a call from

the agent of doom at the CAB

about my claim for a new life.

The appeal is going ahead. I’m

better of dead with that

life insurance policy I took

out so they can bury me

expenses paid and free of debt

at last.Books unread I prefer

on my shelves I aver to their

knowledge and good looks

Bloody books, Bloody books

I could write my own, sell it

online be a millionaire! That’s

my claim to fame. I sold 2 ebooks.

not yet , not yet…

My toothbrush is new and my tube

is full. I’m a happy man at  bedtime

and in the morning. Spitting blood

no problem. Shower too, some

mornings. Deoderant wear, band in hair,

ready for another day in hell. Computer

started I check emails and blogs and feeds

who has been reading my works and how

many times did they like it. Not many.

Seems I have a niche appeal or my maggots

come loose yet again. need to bait these clicks

get more hits than thirty thousand to feel good

about my chances of becoming glitterati.

I look around my flat and see it clean tidy

and comfy. No My flat is small cramped

and dirty. No my flat is not mine its

paid by the local authority

I am entrusted to keep it clean and tidy.

I do this with ease. I do not tease I got it

easy. Except for the mental illness. Playing cards

is easy. and cheesy. Suits me down to the

ground. Bottle of pop and chews, checking

on the crews who run this place locally.

It’s a sordid family affair probably. Most

things are when you get down to it.

Love passes me by usually. I see it on

TV and I know it from home where

my heart is sometimes. And I have loved

and been loved at least twice in my life.

i count myself lucky little rubber ducky.

has been squeezed and came out

smiling, eventually. I am getting

older but not bolder like babes in]the paper

and looking for action in my area. No,

Its more like sleep has become more #attractive

and easy to spend time than thinking

about women booze and football which

have been surgically removed and then

restitched into my life many times

by forces unknown. Phone is not

sound nor word but phoneme. This

interesting fact keeps them guessing

and wondering; me too its fascinating

but above my head really theory and the like.

Still its good to have your interests in life.

isn’t it mate?People watching is another

hobby of mine.I bet you wondering how

it is I find the time to rhyme and can I do ti

all the time . yes is the answer to your question.

It hurts sometimes but not often and gets

me in trouble less. I am pleased to get kudos

and be part of a community of like minded writers

on WordPress. Project yourself, express yourself

to a place outside the rat-race that is clean

and safe to be. meet new people look at photos

and read about other people and what they do.

Be surprised, bemused and forgotten how to

make friends. Do it again and again until

you get that glow all around you. You’ll

never look back.

Back to reality and  theres weeds in the garden

But thats me done for now. Bleeding hell, its the longest poem EVER!




Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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