Spitting cobra’s

They do politics in triplicate a syndicate three card tricksters, politicians are mathematicians they fix the odds and the odds are we’re fucked the minute we vote for them. the alternative could be anarchy and that’d suit me because anarchists help the aged don’t they? I’m in two minds which is a bit of a…

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Nine iron

Eyes on the last days the first of a few days, a reprieve or reprise it’s still a surprise and we have to believe that what comes next will be good. I’d touch wood but the Amazon’s almost gone, taken by loggers who have flogged off the future touching plastic isn’t the same and I…

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When

I can’t decide have I lived or died trapped inside a plastic tent or bubble trouble is I never could, decide I mean other things seem matter of factly the cotton town munitions factory the day out at the local spa which was never far from her, the girl next door. but have I seen…

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The patterns on snowflakes

We have to knit one and pearl one, two bouncing babies, a boy and a girl one because we like to keep things neat. I used to be neat not a beatnik like Rik, who is immortalised yet again in the poem he should pay me. and who can blame me? I’m coming up short…

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all will be well

cross my fingers hope to fly before my heart stops, and I wonder why some birds have wings but prefer to walk? nothing to say and yet you talk must be something in the water. If I catch the dawn before it can break would you take me to your heart or sit there in…

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Viscous circles

Those feelings we reel in when we’re reeling with pain, I am guilty of casting that net. If one cannot get blood from a stone then I know that I am not that hard, for I bleed with the need to feel something more than disgust at the blood on the living room floor. Nothing…

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Them blues

It’s only Monday? then yesterday must have been Sunday and the day before that Saturday? The weekend went in less time than it takes to shake a stick at a cat and that’s that my nose to the grindstone to work and then back home I wish it was Friday again…

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Private wards

when the collapse came in the form of like, total, I was trying to add things up but they wouldn’t reconcile and I lay there for some time but in a while which may have been a long while I pulled myself together as if my life were not the drapes (and who uses drapes…

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Bonus

In that never ending night where every wrong just felt so right. time tells but it’s not saying much…

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Coffee kicking in

Why poetry? why not it’s got everything and it’s low in calories. okay it’s addictive but most things are poetry is by far the nearest place to nearly there where I’ll ever be…

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How to breaka monotony or WTF part two

gently touching on her sweet lips kissing her until the evening fades into night watching stars that burn and light up love in her eyes dreaming silver on the beaches that flow down to the sea sand that builds the castles just for you and for me we laugh looking through this spyglass in a…

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Saturday for a spell

Not quite midnight but I feel secure and sure that the witches won’t get me tonight I locked my door tight bolted the windows put out the light and hid under the bed she said I’m overreacting and feels that with her the odds are stacked in my favour, try telling that to a crazy…

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In the darkness

Of course I’ve seen them ghostly men spirits in the night, of course, they wander abroad tied to me by a cord because I don’t want to let them go. the loved ones I know who knew who went through the doorway and why I asked why did I stay? tomorrow being that other day…

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Like ants in a colony

Electro convulsive therapy which I felt when it rocketed through me, The buzzing in my ears went on and on for years and sparks flew from my fingertips, my eyelashes and when I touched your lips with mine? static! static all the time, no propulsion see and I blame it on the therapy. although it…

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The book club

There is silence in the library although Tolstoy’s talking quietly I’m drinking coffee in the cafe a noisy archipelago Solzhenitsyn puts his two pennerth in I order a buttered barm cake…

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Bedtime in Bedlam

Writing poetry is like having a gun at your head bullets for breakfast blood on the bed and few can understand the words that you planned would change the world. it’s a suicide murder on the inside and it kills me on the outside, I write even though it might make me crazy…

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Poppers

The irreparable is replaceable matching like for like but once the damage is done it cannot be fixed without leaving a scar. Time and the passing of it may help a bit, but it’s debatable, the future is unreadable. Shipton and Nostradamus tried to charm us with what they could see but they didn’t fool…

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pilates at Pilate’s court?

exercise madness. put him to death and in less time than it takes to draw one single breath the history of man began, that’s modern history and not Neanderthal stuff although there’s not nearly enough known about them, and we end up with porn stars and rock stars and star wars and more whores who…

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5 strings to a theory

Day becomes night and in the lamplight I write until my eyelids are drooping, but it’s a carefully managed addiction perfectly suited to a man who’s seen action and prefers now to take it a bit slow. The heart beats a bit faster every time that I master a rhyme it’s a pity that time…

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