more of the dropped stuff

I stare at the blank piece of paper
My thoughts all over the place
At work, at play, at rest
Melancholy could be allowed to enter
Saturday night in bed by ten all alone long way from home
But more than this would be needed for the basis of despair

Imagine one gene from where their is energy
Imagine more than one, a cellarfull of cells
Where is energy
Meditation calms, relaxes, releases minds energy
Where is energy
Lucozade gives glucose gives body energy
Where is energy
Alcohol stimulates, inebriates, eventually suffocates energy
Where
Nicotine infiltrates to create headache energy
Why
Passion rouses bodies warm fluids flow in a flood a burst of energy
Wow

this poem lies on the cutting room floor, for the ones that made it into the pamphlet Yorkshire Love Poems & Other Desperate Stuff click her

More dropped stuff

And so we go our own way
A path not trod before
Each bracken broke
A breaking new

We know this way to be our own way
Our own not known before
Each thought awoke
A thinking new

With light and might we walk our own way
Stealth of stride alone no more
Each slice of slight
Incite light new

this poem lies on the cutting room floor, for the ones that made it into the pamphlet Yorkshire Love Poems & Other Desperate Stuff click her

Dropped

that same old inconsistency
always the same
old inconsistency
continues always
along that same old
road to incredulity
segregated - why
you like to write
egress outward
like to words
release unleash
forgotten depths


this poem lies on the cutting room floor, for the ones that made it into the pamphlet Yorkshire Love Poems & Other Desperate Stuff click her

Bosh

With an impersonators skill
Complete with arm movements
& pointed finger
We are given another chapter
In the latest saga
Of the destructive monologues
Through fizzling gritted teeth
& pursed lips
We hear the detritus
Of the old man’s worldly thoughts
& guidance for youths to follow

to read the full collection online or download for free from issuu click here

Port

Island waters: seas, lochs, streams, waterfalls
The poet’s father’s daughter plays the pipes and all
All to have a calling from the birth date to the wake
Words that stall, fall short of deep within
Rhythms of the oceans & of the seven deadly sins

Sunlight on the ferry
As for the boys in France
Back to making merry
Lead the nearly men a dance

Tall ships and seaborne warriors
Divers for the crab and clam
Hear the anthems of the Highlands
Fire the fear and then be damned

Dream of wide open moorland
Sleep on thoughts of mountain tan
Lay down old preoccupations
As you would in far away Japan

With the author who committed seppuku
After turning the pages on the love that ran

to read the full collection online or download for free from issuu click here