In a philosophic way

I’ve swapped my touch of love

For one that’s unrequited

I’ve swapped my near you love

For now I’m uninvited

Though unrequited is quite handy

You’re with me now I’m sure

Yes uninvited is quite handy

Sitting on the southern shore

I’ll steal from Mister Arnold

I’ll steal from Master Keats

Yes unrequited is quite handy

When stealing from the Beats

It is a new found freedom

Writing what and when I like

The spite and haste are put aside

On this new found magic carpet ride

It is a somewhat different Journey

Not known in the several stages of grief

It is a distinct overtly stranger journey

My past mind kind of that I leave

Rattle on the rail track

Verges merge behind

Chattel’s up the smoke stack

Uninvited; do you mind, thank you kind

I’ve read all the papers

Cheap at half the price

Reading rooms are quite a caper

Unrequited; don’t ask twice, that’s nice

The tone is turned and twisted

Freedom once again to roam

The tome is weighted, but I’m not listed

I wonder, but only in a philosophic way

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Landing Stage

I’d like to be your lover

I’d like to take you out to tea

Perhaps one day

To meet your mother

Does this all sound far too twee

We’d writhe and roll

In frenzied

Rampant passion

Cling on; nails engaged

As love’s juices flow

Afterwards a cigarette

Steady now

Can you put a mash on

Slap our thighs

Out loud laughs

Smiles gin sloe

You could see me

In my dorm

From what I hear

(The walls are thin you see)

It’s quite the norm 

Come up early

The sooner we can be free

It’s a pipe dream that I know

But pipe dreams

Sometimes have an afterglow

Motorway services

Saturday morning

Mythic garden

Morning dew

Middle-aged

And middle 

England

It’s not a crime

Its criminology

To leave 

These thoughts sublime 

I hope you smile

Before you turn the page

Loud with laughter

Another daft idea

It’s grim up north you see

Another landing stage

Purposefully crafted

Just to catch her

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Last

Today is the last of the last

Gone past the previous cast

Repeat the slog 

Third generation, clog to clog

Great grandfathers before

In eighteen sixty-four

Missed the war

Chose the close of door

Now it is my time

Read the rhyme

Off to do my thing

Sounds to have a similar ring

From principles mathematic

To humanities emphatic

To some it makes no sense

Without recompense

But please come on near

I am agog with fear

Trepidation in depth

Marks my breadth

What is to learn

But past concerns

Present understandings

Laughter on the landings

Clog or sculpture

Approach the vulture

Is it daft to mine or craft

This unknown shaft

The cobblers shop

The mighty stop

The rusted hinge

With lusts syringe

So it’s a must

Last take on just

Today’s the day

The slaves stole away

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Darkness

The door is closed

The blackout blacks out

The finest pinpoint

Of light or spout

Wander of bass

Slow the rhythms fold

No walls to touch

No chains to hold

Accustomed to nought

Nought is lost

Unless you count

The time you cost

Therapeutic introspection

Images roll

Scroll through wasted years

Memories unfold

The door opens

Into night

Into nowhere

Further than sight

The blackout

Blacks out the night

Now the finest pinpoint

Shapes the shapeless flight

Burn the acorns

Crush the leaves

In the darkness

Sight deceives

The time is now

Over hollow floors

That we receive

The open chamber door

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There it is

There it is

The new car has been ordered

Another random reflex reaction

On my way to PE22 7NA

This time it is a Kia

My brother an ex mechanic

Speaks very highly of them

Anyway it is Interstellar Metallic Grey

I did seek approval

Not wishing nor wanting to surprise

I don’t know the deeper thoughts

But put on the spot she said yes

Its due to be collected

This time Friday week

After my retreat with the Bamford Quakers

Who may or may not have anything to say

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