By stealth of night and fierce-fought fight The Saxons seized Talfryn – Then put the Welsh to frantic flight And killed the royal kin. Now, within the castle fireplace The dancing flames did roar And up the massive chimneyface The rushing smoke did soar Two mastiff hounds did stretch and yawn Their mistress at their…
To be honest: I’ve not slept with enough women To write poetry like Mr Leonard Cohen. A zen master of his craft, Leonard rolls and rhymes, From bed to bed he glides, countless, intimate, times; Some choose to believe, then rudely exaggerate, That, above all else, our Leonard loved to copulate, But it was just…
I was born upside down In Primrose Hill In London Town Cursed without a working heart, my mind expanded fast And took control too easily as childhood quickly passed; No time to run and brightly play, no time to sing or laugh – Crippled now emotionally, my psyche was cut in half. No need to…
He chooses his dying words with great care Each syllable selected to inform Breathing deeply he gasps the precious air That ventilates his slowly dying form To keep his decaying body still warm Those final parting words are all he has Left to show he is still conscious, alive, Lying there on the hospital death…
Seclude? Misconstrued? Not rude? In a mood? That’s attitude! You can be in the mood to simply sit, ruminate… or sadly brood. A selfish vibe you may exude? Introverted? Seemingly rude? Friends you may exclude as you shun the pressing multitude. But Hey! You’re free to self-delude… to be one, worked-up, meditative dude. Because then…
Sweet Lady of the Silent Night, Powder, snow, dust, blow, pearl, white, You blight my life with your strange delight, But which of us is the parasite? My pain is gone when you comfort me Your blindness enables me to see To be and breathe and be set free No longer trapped nor solitary, But…
Standard Version Your lyrical words are oral crosswords; They twist, they rhyme… it’s a pantomime The way you disturb the nouns and verbs – Confusing, confounding us all of the time. Are you a singing wordsmith, or rhyming poet? Novelist, writer or singing man? You’re so good, we all just know it – The Picasso…
I am an addict for your priceless love Made for each other – like a hand in a glove – For you, I thank the Lord and I thank Christ above, Because I’m an addict for your love. I lust for you by day, and I crave for you at night; God! What can I…
Washington, Brussels, man, they’re just the same – Corporates and bankers playing their private game; Guys in well-cut suits and wearing fancy ties Running the economy for themselves with their bonuses and lies. Market traders giving US jobs to those far-off foreign folks Ignoring the racism and protectionism it inevitably provokes; It’s time the common…
I wish I’d never seen you Across the dance room floor; With skin tight hips and reddened lips, You caught my roving eye, Your jet black hair, jewellery everywhere, A glowing teen allure – With fancy suits, outrageous boots, I couldn’t walk on by. I wish I’d never kissed you Beneath the disco light; Our…
Coool… It’s always been The Street Not Carnaby, not Boogie, not Hip Just The Street It’s where the cool cats hang out And the hipsters and the punks Artists, painters, writers, rebels Dreamers, thinkers, activists Wow Even Dadaists… All young in age or of heart Coool… But now It’s bankers, lawyers, estate agents, chic boutiques,…
Don’t tell me to pack my bags – The Hermes reminds me of you – It’s battered, it’s ripped and it sags; But they’re the good times we often had Stains of spilt wines, and burns of dropped fags, They keep you alive in my mind. So don’t tell me to pack my bags dear…
Hold me when my courage fades in that hour before I die Hold me when the death knell calls and my lifetime flashes by Save me and save no other as selfishness pervades Hold me when my courage fades Hold me Hold me with tenderness, you bring a tranquility serene, Hold me and speak gently…
The fickle finger of fate Will decide if I live or die; But who can tell me if my heart will be broken – Shall I smile or shall I cry? Will death come early or late? That’s the fickle finger of fate. Is it carved in stone for evermore, What lies in store for…
On Monday My love is a rambling rose She holds me close and tight Entwines within my willing arms Our passion, it grows and grows. On Tuesday My love is an orchid’s bloom Made of love-born poetry Divine in form and sweet to smell I breathe her musked perfume. On Wednesday My love is a…
My mate Phil’s a lovely bloke – one of your old-fashioned east end folk; what you’d call a diamond fellah. Bad health made him a Monaco dweller. Was once king of the retail scene, ended up as Sir Philip Green! Now he’s known as old money bags (made his billions out of fancy rags). Phil…
Another Silk Cut my friend? Yeah thanks – but I guess this‘ll be my last order That grim reapers out there and he’s looking for me My puffing’s caught up with me in the end Consultant says I’ve got something called COPD What’s that? Well I had to look it up on the web Bottom…
Pestilence and turbulence are messing up my brain Trapped within this pretense…. lost in the House of Pain. Two of us living alone in our House of Pain: Walking through our gravestones, wondering why we’re here again Listening to the monotone of that ever-pouring rain. Always on the telephone, you’re messing with my brain,…
Where the singing ibis danced and flew, And in the shade of the shedding cedar tree I lived, happy, with my family. But now I am a refugee I have no home I am alone. My dear mother’s smile stays in my mind. On her death, we left our home behind – Father fearful of…
“Another beer my friend, to pass away the time?” I’d had six already but was feeling pretty steady, “Yeah thanks – a Corona with a shot of lime – It’s a bit light, and not too heady”. My mate was Stan, another drinking man, Keen on lager – he likes a Czech Budvar Or a…
