It was nine o’clock monday night
and thinking about getting dark.
There they were, tottering outside the station,
dressed to the nines and heels so high
leading to instability in light winds.
A token bloke in tow,
what was he thinking of?
I couldn’t make out
if they were on their way out
or on their way in
or what indeed they were doing there.
Tom alighted from the train and
we left them to their evening.
June 15, 2009
The totty
May 31, 2009
The green wall of summer
The green wall of summer,
Birds in evening chorus in the park,
New growth ripples along the hedge,
The light remains,
Though sense says it should be dark.
Rays filter through the canopy,
A rose commends its lovely presence,
Its colour in delicate harmony,
Without the wall,
Pink beauty conferred with deep fragrance.
May 28, 2009
When was the last time you used a phonebox?
When was the last time you used a phonebox?
Freedom is going out without
your mobile phone alone.
When was the last time you used a phonebox?
Only the strongest constitution
can take this liberation.
When was the last time you used a phonebox?
Blow a raspberry to the Blackberry,
real men don’t need email on the move.
When was the last time you used a phonebox?
The text message
The phone goes ping, ping. Someone’s poking me.
Oooh, a text. Who can this be ?
A thought, a plan, or maybe just a wave, which
I save, because it has enriched
My day. Then I send back my reply, and try
To be witty, and clever, but mostly it’s meant
To return their compliment.
May 23, 2009
Nothing exists outside these four walls
Nothing exists outside these four walls,
The light is reflected on the windows and
All is black beyond the glass.
My access to the external world
Is a mobile phone which is used
To send text messages,
And Facebook.
It is a virtual world.
I finish a bottle of red wine
And have nothing but my thoughts
And the tick of the clock on the kitchen wall.
The kitchen
A sirloin steak, rare, 2 minutes on the first side and 1 minute on the second, coated in crushed black pepper.
A simple salad , lettuce, vine tomatoes and spring onions with olive oil and aged balsamic vinegar dressing.
Caramelised red onions and whole button mushrooms cooked in their own juices.
Salt, pepper and Dijon mustard.
Wolf Blass, Yellow Label, South Australia, Cabernet Sauvignon 2007.
Crusty white bread with butter.
Blackness outside.
Silence.
May 17, 2009
Random Symmetry
I see a random symmetry
As the drops hit the puddle
And concentric circles grow
Until they collide and are consumed.
Cares vanish as the rings fade,
Geometric self-hypnosis,
Walking in the gentle rain.
May 2, 2009
Breakfast
Bank Holiday. As if they need one.
Weekend.
Like we used to have.
Peat on the fire, as the lady cools.
Some camping, but
I’m not there, I’m not invited
Into the front room.
Why there?
It might rain, so be safe
And sanitised.
Is that a sneeze I hear?
Will we live Tref?
Should we stock up?
Let loose the 21st Century’s dogs of war.
Telegraph the news abroad.
April 30, 2009
Swine Flu
Swine flu has put me on a high,
Another pandemic in progress,
The end of the world is nigh,
Whilst you can, live life to excess.
One more drink before the end of play,
A calming effect don’t panic,
Oblivion wends its certain way,
Endemic or not, it’s academic.
As we await our final moments,
A time for thought and deep reflection,
A battle fought with inner torments,
If life is cheap, what price infection?
April 26, 2009
On the premature death of a neighbour
He died, young,
Though many have gone before,
The shock remains,
As if for the first time.
The community, silenced,
In unexpected grief,
Left thinking,
Pondering their own mortality.
April 24, 2009
On stage tomorrow
We’re on the Tesco stage at the Millennium Centre tomorrow.
Singing some songs that as yet I haven’t seen and don’t know.
I’ll be standing at the back doing my best as anyone would,
I really hope I don’t do an impression of John Redwood.
April 16, 2009
And he’s out!
Not cricket. He said.
Don’t care. Said Mr Turner.
What am I to do between 5 and 7?
Not my concern, you’re not sitting here,
We don’t like you’re demographic and its lack of money.
But my listeners. But my games, my lines. My life.
Commercial radio is no place for cost cutting,
Just people cutting and Mike has gone.
Beware all those who plan careers
In this, the people marketplace.
You’re young once only
And then only briefly.
April 11, 2009
A Loving God
In Italy this week
A loving God
Who is all powerful,
Killed off a couple
Of hundred people
In an earthquake.
They must have been
Evil, presumably?!
The bell tolled,
The faithful went to prayer
And their Leader sent a message
“Assuring us of his spiritual nearness,
Sharing the anguish”.
The bereaved I’m sure,
Would be comforted,
That the souls of the departed
Were fine,
Presuming they were
Good Catholics and
Regularly went
To confession,
The dead that is.
Some mercy was shown –
Survivors were found
Pleased that their names
Were not this time
On the celestial roll call.
The dead, Sofia, Carlo,
Anna, Francesco
Fictitious and fleeting,
Will be remembered for some years
By a plaque, itself destined
For destruction by some future
Wanton act of the same God.
The Starbucks Bubble
Sitting there sipping my tea on the indoor terrace
I was completely relaxed and the noises
That bounced off the skin of my bubble
Added to my sense of wellbeing.
The sounds were never quite prominent enough to intrude
But I could hear what they were.
Chairs moved, table tennis balls pinged and ponged,
People spoke and I could, I thought, detect
The faint whirring of the air-conditioning fans above,
Teaspoons clicked and straws sucked as footsteps went by.
I could see the rainwater running
Down the glass roof outside the bubble
But the sound of the rain was only in my imagination.
Climbers went slowly up and down the wall.
A man, who had been sat with his daughter
For at least ten minutes in front of me finally spoke:
“When is your first exam?”
The family eventually found me and the bubble burst .
Jardin Des Sports, Longleat Center Parcs, Easter 09
April 6, 2009
What a show
Well,
We listened with amusement.
We enjoyed the later banter.
The elder male grandchild was on.
He held the crowd.
He shouted clear.
The description was crisp and the cola was tasty (so we hear).
Then we heard the sirens.