I’ve been romancing honey
Jacks tennesee gal
I shouldn’t do
Not with this checkered heart of mine
Jack knows my heart
He’s a friend like that
Says I need a change of clothes
My heart looks like a lesbian
In these checkered rags
So i’ve suited up this old heart
Tie an all, cover the bullet hole
Thats what I tell ’em anyway
“I surived the bullet, ma’am
I’m tough and ‘ard me, like!”
I don’t tell them I
Fell heart first
Over heels
(c) 2016 Feb
I’ve been on the whiskey again
Gone to tennessee
See my friend
Jack is always at the docks
And we talk of chicks and rock
Like the fluffiness of a few day old chicken
Freshly hatched
And everyones already finger lickin’!
And the rocks on the pennines
Way back yonder
Where I come from
Velvety smooth
Down the hatch
I love Jack
Pitter patter
Pitted against one another
The story of rain
On a window
Much like the story of humanity
downhearted men
Trapped in the lace of melancholy widows
(c) 2014
Archived poems
Delirious are drooling boys
As beauty will have missed him
Because as she blew him
He missed the deer among the trees
(c) feb 2016
Corduroy trousers
Always sound like
they’re about to set fire
as old men shuffle
through their retirement
Taking the time
to refine their temperament
So the wife
Will wind ‘er neck in
Stop naggin’
For all the gamblin’
Now he has learnt the humour
In tryin’ to outdo her
And he pulls faces
Through shop windows!
Bets on the side for another pack ’o cigarettes
And when she turns back round
He smiles and points out her assets
His smile feigning innocence
And at the weekends
She goes to their usual haunts
The ladies book club
Where she can moan
About his nuisances
But with a lingering smile
Upon her lips
With an affectionate humour
Because she knows
She is his.
(c) 2016 Feb
I am all the colours the rainbow forgot
Grey, black and teal
I am the have nots
And I was born
Grey bubble gum
No one knew
Of the thoughts
I’d provoke them to chew
And I was born
Teal cigarettes
The signs were in the smoke
They couldn’t forget
And I fell into
A pot of black paint
At a young age
They called it Matt black
Who’d have thought it
Think about it, what’s my name?
I am the colours the rainbow forgot
I am the have nots
(c) 2016 Jan
I put on my dancing shoes
In bedlam
Or is it Alcatraz
One can’t tell
When you’re on the razz
Shiny brown shoes
Got on my suit too
Slick my hair back
I’m a silverback gorilla
Wanna put on a fight?
I’ve got fists of fuckin’ Dynamite
Golden rings on fingers
You’ll be goin’ ‘ome in blisters!
So put on ya dancin’ shoes
I’ll put the grit
Back in ya grin!
(c) 2016 March
I’m scared you’re holding on for me
For something I can’t offer you
If it’s time for you to go
Let go
And
I’m sorry
I couldn’t truly be there
And
I’m sorry if it ever looked like
I didn’t care
I will miss you
I’m taking on my demons role
staring him in the face
I take a step back
Sharpening my knife
I reject the monsters bark
Cutting his mask
From my face
It’s been sewn on
And underneath
I become no one
Which is a new monster
In of itself
What have I done
I stare at my nothingness
Mouth gaping open
Without a sound
But I can hear my scream
Inside my labyrinth
Who am I
What am I meant to be?
(c) Jan 2016
Her eyes a painting
In Venice
A boat made of Oakwood
Glossed to a perfect shine
Making my way through
The iris, a tunnel in her eyes
Lost in the turquoise reflections
Of an art painted to perfection
In the night
The frame changes
In her eyes
The moon reflecting
On ripples of water
As we take a canoe
Paddling on through
“Were you even listening to what I was saying?”
She smiles, wine glass just below her lips
A pendant hanging just above her cleavage
I smile back
Back in the room
Must have been dreaming.
(c) 2015
