The Big Time

Clear Head. Begin.

It was a drowsy morning thought Drew watching the crane on the horizon go back and forth back and forth.

He took a break for a buttered bun and a cup of coffee at 11:00. A break from lying in bed.

Now he was sitting at his computer looking at his Dandy Warhols background wallpaper a new WordPress Document open before him wondering what to type…

He shouldn’t be scared by this New Document Empty and white. After all, he has written hundreds of blog entries be they poems, rants, thoughts, drawings. So what makes this one so different?

Well, something quite profound actually. This science-phobe has gone on and applied for an Access To Science course at a local college. He has an interview and assessment in a months time and seeing how the future may unfold has already been out (well, on Amazon) an purchased a new laptop bag, duffel bag for carrying around all those textbooks and ring binders and oversized pencil cases so loved by studenty types of which he is to become one of …)

But apart from the science -phobia which is really all about maths and chemistry and biochemistry, he feels he knows nothing about all the really BIG issues in science today. After all he left education after part completing a mechanical engineering vehicle mechanics course aged 17 and has only very briefly stepped inside the hallowed halls of EDUCATION since then. He is now 43.

An atom without any electrons, neutrons or protons. A lone boulder deposited by the last ice age hundreds of miles from the nearest boulder gathering.  All the elements that have yet to be discovered are more well known that this one WatkinsAlonium. Atomic Number Zero. That’s the limits of his scientific metaphors. Far from infinity. No valences. No equations. BUT I HAVE NO CHOICE!!!

What? I hear you gasp. Did you have a vision in which you were a stunningly intelligent biochemistry student? Did you have a dream that you wrote paper after paper and got published in scholarly journals? Did you dream of long multi-course faculty dinners during which times you would entertain with prescient anecdotes the downfall of your mutual enemies? Did you watch ‘Lucky Jim’ and thought ‘That’s me’ (but in science not in History) Well in short ‘YES!’ that may be true. I did have a dream of being a young biochemistry student with a stunning girlfriend and Big pharma prospects. I did. But now I am faced with a blank page I feel more than that notion that this was pre-ordained destiny. It feels Human to be staring and not know what to write. It feels human to be at the beginning of an unknown journey in which I might encounter gypsies and go on my own journey of human discovery.

Success is defined in the OED as ‘the accomplishment of aim or purpose’ and surely this goes deeper than mere marks on a sheet of paper, essays and dissertations, theories and theorems.

Monkey bars are difficult to overcome. At first they seem impossible. Then improbable, then merely difficult then easy as pie. It’s not failure that should be afraid of. It’s not trying.

The thing we can all do is get behind the triers and give them a big push and help them on their way.

My cup of coffee has now gone cold and the bun, well that never existed. I am going for an interview in a months time though in which time i might learn basic addition and subtraction, nay THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE.

Perhaps I should read more…


It Doesn’t Wash Does It?

Are we the British public on the brink of becoming like Americans? Does Brexit signal a change in Opinion or just more headlines for the newspapers to feed on? Does politics in the twenty-first century actually have anything to do with targets or are we supposed to happy and content with the shore leave rhetoric of British politicians?

Army cadets the once proud members of our fighting forces. Now lackeys for unpaid work.

High Streets the once proud burger bar now a snivelling place for delinquent dole dodgers.

In my youth there was only one Britain. You left school and then somehow magically got a job and got married and got a pension. Magic. Gullivers Travels more real. Poetry more real.

Being a Politician is not an admission of guilt

of Media savvy and the punchline photograph.

Nor is it the ability of having the right friends

to open the right doors at the right time. It’s instead a free pass to celebrity of the kind bestowed on Morecambe and Wise. Comfortable, cuddly people whose opinion we don’t care about so long as we see them smiling at the camera.

If they are the managers of our country then why not hold interviews for the jobs and then rate them on performance instead of on imponderables?

But that involves defining what it is a politician is actually supposed to do. Do we pay them to speak about whatever problems are happening? Or is it that we want someone to complain to when things get badly wrong?

Now we have multiple Britains aided in no small part by technology which the current establishment seem woefully inadequate in.

Anyway. I must do what I am good at (I hope) and stop rambling. So. Limerick

There was an old-timer from New York

who was bored of the name on his passport

So he looked at the seal and thought ‘I could do a deal.

and went on to become in charge of it ALL.



Brexit, Brexit, Brexit, I wonder thought Phillip

Will I be here long enough to see what passes

or will I be presenting to Nigel Farage, King of New England

and savior of Britain Kind next year in the new world.

What does this mean for a seventy-year-old WI County Board Member?

What does it mean for her disabled son living in the gutter? (metaphorically at least)

Depressing monologue cum soliloquy which we will skip to concentrate on the news.


Where was I?

The news. 


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!





Why is it that I feel guilty for listening to music aloud in my room

when I could put on headphones and simply drown out the voices in my head?


It wouldn’t be the same and luxury seems somehow attached to pricking that blames balloon. Why shouldn’t I listen to music in my room? Who cares anyway? But it feels like someone is watching me. And I silently flutter flatly afraid of causing a breeze or a sneeze. What is it in me that causes such fragility? of spirit when other people are near me? or if it’s the spirits of some trees and flowers I still get jumpy because of the angry stag beetles hiding beneath the gently rustling leaves! Persistent cruelty. I never was as confident as an ant in a colony of ants going about their business wearing their pants on the outsides of their trousers as My Father would say, or would have said if he wasn’t dead now he’s retired. It’s all nice to have a friend who is persistently around the bend as he is about the weather, and what food I am eating and fucking shit when you really get down to it. There’s no such thing as a biscuit for dunking. I might take up arm wrestling and go down to my local woods and find a disabled ant to have a go with. If I can stare him down or handle the rushing of the wind between the trees that seem to signal No, No, No, Wrong, Wrong, Wrong that is. There used to be solace for me in a winding stream but now I see toothbrushes and lonely bedtimes. I am a bear they say loudly as if the volume will embolden me and make me shake off the knowing I am only poor old me. It’s shit getting old and as people die it’s bound to get worst, as I thirst for solitude or human company.

I wonder why people don’t come near to me as they used to, or it could just be me. I don’t meet as many people now as I did when I was at school or in the army or anywhere for that matter. Except online of course. I meet new people everyday there. Maybe its only me and theres nothing wrong with My Mum, My Dad, My whole family. But if it wasn’t for Christmas I would never see half of them. I never had it really good so I don’t know what I’m missing. It’s all glued and mended now. My soul but its still bending as the silent treatment intensifies all around me and persistent offenders multiply stealing my belongings, otherwise ignoring me.

I feel close to tears. There is something distinctly author-ish about that comment and it speaks volumes to me in that moment I typed the words. I mean, wouldn’t most people just not bother to write it down, or try to do it in some style. I mean, that’s what I desire and admire. If it wasn’t for writing I would be a ‘sardines in tomato sauce curmudgeon’, never bothering to wash my shirt collars or to iron a crease down the front of my jeans. I have seen it happen and other strange occurrences too.

There is a trick you think you learn as a writer and that is to know when to hold onto something longer rather than just click ‘publish’. I have mastered that trick one week only to find that the rules have changed the following week. Now and then I throw caution to the wind, half the time I fear I am losing my edge If I don’t or losing my mind if I do. You wonder if you are any good even though people click and leave comments saying they like what you do.

I really don’t know what to say now as I type this at past my bedtime but it’s been like this for a few weeks now. A 3 am sleeping time and then lying in all morning. It’s like I have been washed of my experiences and now am expected to act like a child again for the pleasure of others, not my own. There is give and take in most things but it doesn’t make it any easier.

Oh, tonight I have really gone to town! Such fun to be around! Not. But if you have stuck around thanks and as I wind up to pressing ‘publish’ I feel one step closer to getting published, and not only on a blog. Because practice, practice, practice is what it takes. And they all say, If I can do it so can you. And big fool that I am, I believe them. and I have seen the results. I am now 257 followers, 25000 hits on my DA pages and seven posts today (counting this one) The numbers don’t seem real nothing does, to be honest. Goodnight patient reader and don’t let the bedbugs bite.

Holy Duck!

It’s time for me to do some writing. I don’t know what will come out of this but I intend to give it a go. My recent attempts at varying my output all seem to have fallen on deaf or dumbfounded ears while the standard of blogs I have been coming across has been very high. This is good for blogging as more people will be attracted to it.

Two worth checking out are IceCream Magazine and Tea and That.

So here I am sitting in my tin can, far away from trees. If I were in a forest I would take the opportunity to go hug a tree. There is nothing like the smell of the bark in your nostrils and the aroma of rotting vegetation at your feet to bring out the Ray Mears in me. Immediately I begin wondering where it is best to trap rabbits, where the stream is for a supply of cool fresh drinking water, where is the high ground good for a bivi site, where are landmarks for trekking onto. It’s all coming flooding back. I swear if I could do it all again I would do it wearing Gore-Tex.

Holy Duck! I am at 1647 of my 1800 calorie a day allowance and it’s only just past dinner time! There is nothing worse than trying to diet and learning along the way. Now I think about it NOT learning would be worse yet, but only just. Did you know that eating two Weetabix with skimmed milk at breakfast counts for 200 calories? That a single Rich Tea biscuit is alone 40 calories? And deserts? Don’t get me started on desserts. Except that I love them! One proper desert a week is what I am allowing myself. And I am adjusting the rest of my diet accordingly.

Chelsea hammered Man City in the FA Cup Sixth Round this afternoon. This was in part due to the fact that the match was unfair in that it was men against boys. The boys of Manuel Pelligrini’s Man City may be talented but they were no match for the depth and experience a Chelsea side even without the injured John Terry. That said the game was entertaining football and the majority of the goals were of a high quality. Man City certainly have some good youngsters coming through but it will be some time before they are ready to start games in the Premiership or in Europe where much of City’s ambitions lie this season.

Computer Gaming is not for nerds! Computer gaming is cool, relevant, entertaining, engrossing, demanding*…Today I purchased four computer games for the PC in the Assassin’s Creed series for ten pounds. This makes me quadruple happy! Now I have a half-decent monitor, keyboard, desk, and speakers but no computer. No computer? I hear you say? Well, I do have one suitable for browsing the internet in my study. I do have my laptop I am typing at now for general use but I do not have one for gaming on. There is a good reason for this. For one, I do not want to put all my eggs in one basket and buy a computer that is all singing all dancing. This is extremely expensive and doesn’t make good sense. Rather have a reasonable machine for everyday use, a cheap machine for the study and a basic one for gaming on. This does make sense both financially and practically. I have found an excellent supplier of second-hand computers HandyGeek where I got my browsing machine from and where I intend to purchase my gaming machine. Hopefully, gaming will be fun and if one machine breaks down, well, at least I’ll be able to make a quick swap-over so it won’t stop me doing everything else I do on computers or worst bored!

*from testimonials of friends and personal experience.

Other bloggers on WordPress continue to impress in poetry, song, photography, you-name-it there is probably a blog I follow containing it! See the community menu for other blogs I interact with – you won’t be disappointed.

I am currently watching TV on my laptop as I save for a new television. I think that I am going to have to go with an indoor ariel once I find out if it’s that that was causing the problem with my picture, or my TV set itself which was a ‘tube’ model and probably on the blink. I am looking for a model at least 24 inch, preferably 32 inch with a built in DVD. I even have space for it which in my flat is at something once found soon taken.

Well with so many things half finished (read my last few blogs also) I should take a pause and breathe once in a while. Before I go on again. Breathe.

Happy blogging! See you soon!


Was It All Worth It

I have drawn hundreds of Pictures for this blog. I have written thousands and thousands of words here on my blog. And what do I have to show for it. A blog nobody bothers to explore the menu on. Perhaps I need to stop sulking and begin promoting my blog. OK, I made ninety-nine percent of the pictures here on my blog. And I wrote all the words. I am an artist, a bit of a prolific one some say. But all of the websites I have found on promotion either involve paying money to someone or have either described convoluted methods of community blogging festivals which seem nice but a lot of effort possibly few and far between and requiring a social part of me that I find difficult. And I haven’t a lot to say except ‘look at my blog’ I did all the work on it. “The pictures I took or drew, the words I wrote” could be my quote I suppose.

Where did it all go wrong? I was happily producing, producing and producing but now I just ask myself difficult questions every day. Ones like ‘Do you have any prospects?’ ‘Whats the long term plan?’ ‘Why did you ever think you could be an artist?”Why did you ever think you were any good?’ ‘How old are you?’

You could call it a creative crisis.

My faithful ‘likers’ feel like friends now and I wonder sometimes what it means when they ‘like’ a piece of my work. Are they trying to tell me something? That they like it, that they agree with me, or find it edifying anyway.

I can’t seem to concentrate on one thing for long enough to make sense of it.

Isn’t the sky blue today?

See what I mean?


I just read a blog on Tumblr

That had in it colour codes for communicating the way you feel about a blog or the person behind the blog.

It went something like this:-

black – I would date you

Brown-  I don’t like you/your blog

Purple – Your blog made me think of waterfalls

Rainbow – BED PLZ

As someone who has stated that colour is the way I think I commend this blog to you.

You can see the original here.