Once

Once there was a man and that man had a plan to write the best poetry in the land. So off he went in search of inspiration. He went to a field and spied a dandelion. Right down did he put his nose and sniff did he. And up his nose flew a bumble bee.

Staring at the sea

I am a poet. I can make it. The sea gives me inspiration. I take it. I hear a call, I fake it. I am a living being. A mortal. Pitting my skills against Poseidon…   Standing on the shore staring out. The sea stares back, oblivious Obviously, I have clout to choose my time,

Whence

It began like so many other stories in the wind, On a hilltop overlooking a vale. A farmers yard, clean except for the odd wisp of straw and a gardeners fork that was resting against a steel gate, the clucking of hens and the mooing of the cows mixed in with the gentle bleats of the

Dogs,Doctors,Dirges

I have seen the future and it sucks and I have done my research. Memories are better than new experiences. What do you think I did twenty and thirty for. To carry on being a dick in my forties? No way! Its muffins bacon and egg for breakfast then steaks and mushrooms for elevenses. At

God free fix available £5.99

The reality the idea held together with bonds insoluble in water A fence is a two way street only if you happen to be tall enough to step over it hows about something not like barbed wire but like a crown of thorns or not. Isn’t Jesus sacrifice enough to stop talk of war fields

All That Chimes

All that chimes isn’t rhyme All that succours isn’t true And wedded bliss well, that bird flew (away into the hills) Sometimes my heart follows my eyes and it becomes difficult to know what is, what’s not or where the plot is leading I want it to lead somewhere new Like the bird that flew

Every Time

I wish I were a poet and could sing about my life.   Even words cannot describe what happened then.   Remember that once you had friends and times that should not be forgotten. The future was beckoning like a roaring lion. And jackals and laughing hyenas ran too In the streets of somewhere that in

Hello Cupboard

Hello! Cupboard How Are You? My Name Is Andrew. Comment Allez Vous? Ca Va? Ca va bien merci, Est ce que voudrais un cafe? C’est in bon idee! See how we live in the twenty-first century Talking to my cupboard about the day might seem strange In fact its as pink as blancmange to say

Runs (again)

Here is another Runs piece of writing with some rhymes thrown in it. ————————————————————————————————– Runs from one place to another without moving. Runs forward and backward without moving. Runs up your back without moving runs with your legs. There is a place where reflections catch the light in the glass mirror surface of the pool, Where