Wednesday, 28 June 2017

Labels


Labels

Being labelled constantly
I peel off the ones adhering to me
Some stick some come off easily
I tug at them persistently
Rip my skin and finally
Naked now and label free
I look in the mirror
What do I see?

I see a lie
It tells me my left is my right eye
I take a selfie and I try
To truthfully identify
The real me
And the real me
Label less as when I die
Shows me I am
What I am

What am I?


Monday, 19 June 2017

One last kiss



One last kiss

Fine evening, end of May
Exhibition at the V&A
Outside table, spicy food
Sultry tranquil ambient mood
Across the table gorgeous wife
Making small talk loving life
Hotel room a tube away
A perfect end to a perfect da-

Wine and dinner evening show
Pay the waiter then they go
Plenty of time before the bell
And to use the loo as well
Among the crowd they walk about
Many have their smart phones out
His map marker points to where
“Look the theatre’s over the--

Young men getting drunk outside
Swilling pints of London Pride
Shouting swearing voices loud
Stag night antics boisterous proud
A father looks on with a frown
“Can you keep the language down?”
Daughter feels embarrassed now
“Dad be quiet you’ll start a ro-

Suspicious character ahead
What was it the mayor said?
“Part and parcel” was his view
And people should be “Vigilante” too
Hurrying anxious looking man   
Funny place to leave a van
Fleeting thoughts by many shared
Each paranoid but not prepa---

Early evening sun still bright
The Thames below reflecting light
A blinding FLASH and suddenly
God I can’t see GOD I CAN’T SEE!
Wide awake confused not dreaming
Tears from dazzled eyes streaming
To my lips I hold your hand
One last kiss before we land

Wednesday, 14 June 2017

Two Great Uncles


Two great uncles

Two great uncles who I never knew
Got killed whilst serving in world war two
One died somewhere in Italy
And the other in a ship was lost at sea

My Grandad (their elder brother) was told
When he volunteered that he was too old
So he signed up to the Home guard instead
And at night as bombers flew overhead
He lay and waited for morning to come
With his wife (my Nan) and daughter (my Mum)
In the daytime he worked in Stratford and Bow
Delivering coal and he got to know
A man with connections and in a back street
He paid a bit extra for black market meat
Then he went home to his daughter and wife
And that’s how he spent the war years of his life

Now I wonder what he must have felt.
How did he deal with the hand he was dealt?
Striving to keep his family fed
All the while knowing his brothers were dead

If not for my Mum I’d never have known
Of those two Great uncles whose lives were blown
Away with other young men in their prime
Who fought for our lives in that terrible time

Long after the war my Grandad died
I remember him now as a man with pride
A working class man whose daughter and wife
And grandchildren too were the joy of his life

About the young brothers he said not a word
Like I said it was only through Mum that I heard
And their names she’s forgotten now she’s grown old
What’s related above is a story she told

So here’s my tribute for what it’s worth
To a man whose past gave rise to my birth
A nod of remembrance to what he went through
And the two Great uncles who I never knew





Friday, 9 June 2017

Facebook Rage

Facebook Rage

I typed an opinion of discontent
And you sent back immediately
An emoji showing your dissent
A statement begging to disagree
I countered with an abrupt remark
(A clever one I thought it was)
That evidently hit the mark
(Your curt reply was very cross)
And so we had an angry row
Like stags with antlers on display
Or boars fighting over a sow
Battling for the final say
There was no surrendering
We fought each other and in the end
I deleted everything
And you removed me as a friend

Now it’s damaged beyond repair
No going back for you and me
Unfriending now seems pretty fair
(Although I took it personally)
Wine and anger’s a toxic mix
It’s fatal when you’ve had a few
To be broadcasting politics
A keyboard warrior’s point of view
We could’ve used the phone that night
And spoke in private for a while 
Instead we had a public fight
Like rival guests on Jeremy Kyle
Hence aggressive stubborn and proud
The two of us there on the stage
Gave before the watching crowd
A demonstration of Facebook rage







Thursday, 8 June 2017

Spring 1989



Spring 1989

We sat at a table
In The Hard Rock Café
The Stone Rose’s debut
Was the latest thing
Their songs were relayed
And we had a sing
Ate chicken and chips
And looking around
Everyone there

Was tuned into their sound

I’m looking back that now
On that escapade
Surrounded by baggies
Casually displayed
As Madchester’s finest
On the turntable played
And the optimism
On everyone’s face
Made the world seem
A safer and happier place





Tuesday, 6 June 2017

The fallen tree

6th June 2017 (6 pm) The fallen tree

This evening, whilst out walking the dog,
I saw some poppies in a field;
I looked at them and thought for a while
Of a long ago war and millions killed.

Further on, at the edge of the wood,
I came across a fallen tree;
I pondered the random power of storms
And then another thought came to me…….

On this day in June; 1944
Men ran forth into hostile fire;
On a Normandy beach
Some breathed their last
Amidst bullets, shells,
And barbed wire.

I stood by the tree, and reflected
On soldiers deaths untimely met.
Sometimes, in the simplest of ways,

Nature reminds us, lest we forget.