All dressed up and…

At the early morning bus stop

First cigarette of the day

Think on - of lovers left in bed

Think on, of lovers 

If only you had said

Baby can I walk you home

Roam around those thoughts

Alive, twirled fast inside your head

At the early morning bus stop

Baby, for certain you could have said

Can I share your life forever

Can I wake inside your head

Instead, you think on: 

Too much make up

Too dreary perm set hair

Too tight the crimplene trousers

Too late the finals of the beauty cup…

Can I share your life forever

Can I wake inside your head

Instead you stare

Beyond the early morning

Beyond the bust stop and the flair

You think on – of lovers left in bed

You think on, lover, if only you had said

Baby can I walk you home

Can I share your life forever

Can I wake one day beside you

In your silk laced, soft skin, bed

free from poetry shop.co.uk

Glass Houses

Noise
Surrounded by inadequate lives
Black and white noise
Counselled out of expectations

I saw it on the news
Kids out of control
In Time magazine
Young people
Without direction
Youthfulness
Without correction

Noise
Picked on by the big boys
Black and white noise
Torn apart, by media mogul dedications

available free from poetry shop

More Than This

There are many separate rooms
We are all alone in the separation
How soon are we to shrivel up and die
Without a light or some familiar fragrance
The talk is of the vagrancy of the youth who
Celebrates tramps boxed up on the pavements
Talk of parents, undone by truth, purely agents
Unsure of their place in society’s rearrangements
Rooms with open doors; places to sit and to search
For that inner self, behind a screened containment
The talk is of open prisons, declassified because
The prisoners no longer do desire to escape
The talk is of economic depression, of
Contested paternity, of council house
Relocation; old walls to knock out
Perfumed gardens to make over
The poem talks of redemption

available free from poetry shop

After The Alarm

Inspired by a broken nights sleep
Too late
The disappearance came to overwhelm me

Creep in daylight, stars behind grey skies
Too soon
The reappearance came forward to call me

I hold on to those last few words
Too kind
Goodbye, I love you; I will see you this evening

available free from poetry shop

Spatial

The poetry of Scandinavian log cabins
Days are shorter
Nights are dark
Time sits precisely
In the writers remainder park

Leave the forest to permeate
Make the tea
Make the toast
Make time tick on
For me, and for my Norwegian host

Cold water, clear water, archipelago’s
Roads are passable
Lakes are free from tide
Ingrained with work
The journeys (where we all for sure) reside

In translation I argue against the rhyme
Words are transferable
Thoughts are less tangible
Emotions, dark secrets
Find themselves lost; sounds seem less edible

available free from poetry shop