The day after

The day afterImmersed in history yesterday

My eyes rest today upon a new page

And I can’t help but wonder

If that was so special, so significant

When darkness came and the world revolved

Our bodies harnessed as the heaven’s twist

We emerged from the cycle, again

Struggling to find gravitas

In the bleary eyed lack of profundity

That is the norm

 

How I crave more energy

To slake my greed

And put a smile

On the worn features of my face

Some terrific urge

To over-take my torpor

God’s spell

An evolution of letters

That must emerge

As love and hope

In my mind

Which always pleads

But should be out to please.

It’s a wrap

It's a wrapI feel delightfully irrelevant

As I wrap some late presents

To members of the family

Old paper strewn like remnants of goodwill

A scrap and match of gift-wrap

That will eventually perform the rite

When all the folds and sellotape succumb

To form a parcel

 

Then goodwill overtakes the gnawing doubt

That the bank account will frown

On the bravado that largesse induced

And I hope

My last minute lunge in the giving game

Bears fruit

 

A smile, a hug, some gratitude

For the daft old sod

Who tried to go the extra mile

Might just make the big day

Worthwhile

Happy Christmas. You All.

A stroll on the mild side

 

London walk. ReflectionCoolbeans. Amazeballs.

I have a younger friend

Who uses these words

And others like them

As expressions to describe

Conditions that apply

To happenings in life

 

How sensible it is

To give feelings a disguise

And put a cloak on the back

Of a difficult stroke

 

It’s fun to play with words

That run around in the playground

Of your head

And come up with a pick and mix

Of colourful ribbons to wrap around

Escaping thoughts

 

I like that game

Let me in

Even with my ruined alphabet

I can play

With my tumbledown

memory

Accounting Tips

 

Accounting Tips PoemI’m bunged-up

The words won’t come

Five days to go

And I’m not in the mood

An incident in a theatre last night

Brought the ceiling down

Which brings the morning news

In a different light. Lights actually

Pulsing blue. Sirens and wailing

So fever grips the furtive crew

While church steeples mount

A stoic vigil above roof tops and knaves

Dependable as they allow

The echoes of centuries of worship

Warm the calm embracing space

For souls to celebrate in peace

A special day

Utter with clarity and grace

Without preference or compromise

Two easily adopted words

God Bless

A wobble on the way to Christmas

A wobble on the way to ChristmasSherbet dabs and penny chews

Cold custard and cheese-cake

A teacher kind enough to give me praise

And days when I was free. A king

Score a goal. Win a race

Feel that I had earned my place

Those are captions from good days

Tokens from the sweetness of memory

 

How easy to forget the good

And believe in a parody of the past

Where shadows and puppets

Played the major parts

Reality sits uneasily

Next to the hard evidence

That vanity has made a pass and lost

 

Left with rancour

Instead of gloss

Self-pity grimaces at the mirror

Leaves hands cuddling loss

Emptiness, a stain on the place

Where the atoms sat

The ghost that drags it’s heavy load

Is on the trail of Heaven’s scent

Champagne and lies

 

Champagne and liesTheir flutes contain chatty bubbles

Nothing else says’ it so clear

Celebrate

 

As laughter fills the air

A pat on the back is inevitable

If it’s your name that’s been uncorked

 

But imagine the mess

If all of them gathered there

Had got it wrong

 

You just might have heard

A gob that spewed

A bucket full of lies

 

And then the chuckles

All sugar coated air’s

May suffer the fate of any fool

 

As euphoria makes a great escape

In a rapt and blushing company

Of half remembered truths

 

Stale eyes

Might light upon the mess

Gathering flys

A call to arms

 

A call to armsWe can go out into the rampant dawn

We can be heroes

You can just imagine the man at the front

Say that before he falls back behind the lines

The glorious shout that drips with valour

Goes limp as the syllables slip

And the enemy opens its eye

 

How hard is it to get up in the morning

How much of a gauge to life is the effort

Required to raise heavy blood and heed

The tug of a new dawn

And the perpetual call to arms

That each day commands

How enthusiastic is the morsel?

 

Time and vice and the ageing process

See to it that we fall behind

In so many regrettable ways

And that delicious slice of life

Those enduring memories of ribbon soaked glory

Are simply crumbs from a cake gone stale

Go on, stretch out and reach for the heights.

Vital Signs

Vital SignsThe lines are drawn

Dismal or bliss

Wake-up to the mood and function in this

A blessing or a dirge

Decide

 

Everything is better worn

When the shine is off

Bland newness goes

As texture abrades the novelty

And lends surface to experience

 

Confusion can be the precursor

To apathy

So the grey middle ground will adopt

Functionality

You may have to dig deep to carry on

 

Success may not be the tangible thing

But a feeling inside

Some inner glow. Some energy

That elusive thing that tugs at pride

And asks the question of a deeper place